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cursedcola · 1 year

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde(here!), Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): The relationship is kinda toxic because it's Idia and I have to be realistic - but it gets better as you read. Just know that there are themes of miscommunication, self-sabotage, self-neglect, and insecurity in both Idia and the MC. I gave him some character growth at least and some maturation to the character. Note: All Ignihyde has is Idia so I gave his piece some extra love(super long. Like, this isn't even considered a headcannon set anymore. I really went overboard, I'm so sorry). Not proofread for grammar since I'm a bit lazy right now. Also, I haven't finished his chapter in game because I'm too weak (seriously wtf is up with these fights). I know the plot mostly but forgive me if there's an inaccuracy in a reference

Idia had it made during his youth - and deep down he knows it despite all his complaining. He knows that he won the introvert lottery. For three years he was able to live in a reclusive dorm room with no expectations beyond showing up to class (via a tablet of all things) and doing his work. Sure, he had to return home at some point and deal with that hot mess...but it was a displaced problem. One to be dealt with whenever. As a full-time 'student' he had junk food readily available, his brother down the hall, all the games and tech he needed, and somehow managed to land himself a loving partner despite his quirks.

The Ramshackle prefect - someone he initially wanted nothing to do with. Chaos seemed to follow their every move and Idia wanted no part of it. He never expected to come within a twenty-foot radius of them without force.

For the record, force indeed was used. Unfortunately they had a nasty habit of being nosy. Very 'main character complex' of them, if you ask him.

Yet it worked in his favor. Their stubbornness and intrusive ways wormed a place in his stone-cold heart. It fueled his ego much to everyone's chagrin. Out of everyone - princes, busy bodies, future doctors and the literal fish mafia - you picked him. The noob cursed to lose all his 50/50s and rot in bluelight. Idia seriously questions your tastes, but hey! He beat the normies and that's all he cares about.

Well, at least that's how he phrases it. Underneath that god-tier ego is an inferiority complex that he tries to keep down for your benefit. Something about your mood dipping by 20% when he talks trash? He'd need Ortho to run another test on that. Just to be safe.

Unfortunately, he still can't reign it in all the way. Victories can be temporary and who's he to say that your relationship isn't a one-shot story? Nothing worthwhile is ever that simple. Good games always get sequels...so the question lingers, will he still be a main character in yours?

When Idia graduates, he fully expects for you to walk out of his life. He returns to S.T.Y.X and leaves NRC to fulfill his role back home. You have no reason to care about him when he's no longer nearby. Life isn't like an isekai manga. You won't wait for him - no, you'll get a taste for how life is without him and indulge. Slowly you'll stop texting him, calling him, playing games with him - well, he'll do it first! He refuses to be the second male lead that gets dumped when you finally find your prince. That's for chumps.

He'd rather you just up and leave this world! At least then he wouldn't be in this pitiful situation...but he's seen that crow's shitty work ethic. You're stuck.

Idia's scared to say the least. One could say that his self sabotage was in action before your relationship even began. Old habits die hard, and no one could stop his spiral. Not even Ortho. Idia left his little brother behind as well. The boy sent him off with a smile, promising to take good care of you in his big brother's stead. After all, you both were in the same year.

It's not surprising that he reverts to his old ways. A hard battle is even more difficult to win when you don't have the motivation to fight it in the first place. Idia loses his drive...and in turn his already negative outlook grows worse.

Needless to say, Idia ... neglects you.

Your relationship has always been more of an 80:20 than a 50:50 - with him taking more than he ever gave. You always set aside time and made sure he was comfortable. You respected his anxieties and dealt with his temper on more than one occasion. His jealousy. You indulged his hobbies, always tried to include him in on activities with your friends (even though he rarely ever accepted), wore your heart on your sleeve and always took the lead. You were always too good to be true.

Two years. Two years with him at S.T.Y.X and you at NRC. Not a day passed where you did not text him or call. Not a week passed where you did not video-chat or play a game with him. You made time. You checked in. Told him stories about your life an friends. Ortho often would send him recordings and clips as well. During vacations you'd make plans to see him and always invited him to come to campus for events. Even though he never accepted, you still always offered. Throughout it all he kept you at a distance, yet unable to fully let you go at the same time. He needed you to do it. He needed his inner thoughts to shut up and to have someone else to blame.

You. You. You. When would you stop? Why weren't you tired of him yet? On a good day he can be frustrating, so how were you not mad when he was physically trying to make you hate him? Were you waiting until graduation to drop the bomb on him that you'd leave for good? On another's arm or back to your world?

Imagine his surprise when neither happened. On the dawn after Ortho's graduation ceremony, Idia came out of his cave to greet him at the S.T.Y.X entrance. He would no longer be as lonely, and perhaps without Ortho around, you'd finally put distance between yourself and the Shroud family. All would be as it should.

He did not expect to see you at the gate as well. Ortho flew up to him with a bright grin and twirl in the air - babbling on and on about how he arranged for you to come work as a research assistant in the lab. After all, you had an extensive knowledge of blot as well as field experience. It was a win-win situation for the company and your relationship! You could now be a happy family! Isn't that just amazing?

"It was extremally difficult to keep this a surprise!...Brother?" Ortho halts mid-rant, his receptors going haywire, "Brother, your heartrate has increased and your temperature is dropping below stable levels. You must regulate your breathing pattern!"

White noise rang like television static in Idia's eardrum. He watched you thank one of the guards while handing off your suitcase. His pulse increased and mind went under water. How long had it been since you were together longterm? You looked different. More mature. Meanwhile he was still the same - physically and emotionally. Still the pasty shut-in with dark eyebags and energy drinks running through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't used to seeing you in person. How should he react? Should he hug you? Do you want him to? That's weird. He hasn't held you in a while - yeah, it would be creepy. Does he even deserve to? What made you want to work here anyways?! You could have gone anywhere. ANYWHERE. - Shit. You're looking this way. What should he do?! aHH! You're walking over!

He does what he knows best. Shuts down. You receive a disgraceful greeting. No affection. Not even a smile.

Idia's brow furrows at your approach and he buries his hands deep into the pockets of his lab-coat. When you lean in to kiss his cheek, he catches you by the forearms and holds you in place. "Since when were you going to work here? You do remember what S.T.Y.X is in charge of, right? Once you're in, there's no going back. Are you a masochist or something?" Ah. There goes the heartfelt reunion. Being home did bring out a more harsh and cut-throat side of him after all.

Despite his poor treatment, you don't react upset. Now the relationship has now become something of a 90 : 10. He knows you have no reason to come here other than for Ortho and himself. You really are an Otome protagonist, jeez. Willing to do all that for him? Giving up your future and friends just to be at his side...dammit. Don't give him hopes! Don't undo all the work he's put in to survive without you! Stop welcoming misfortune for his sake! You're stupid. Stupidstupidstupid .... man he loves that stupidity. Gods he missed it.

Shit. Not even an hour in and he's reverting.

You don't realize it but you're heading straight for a bad ending. He does though. He's read the guides and played more visual novels than he can count. As a pro, he needs to steer you off this villainy ending and towards the true route.

After all ... what was that one saying? Heroes will sacrifice you for the world, while Villans will sacrifice the world for you? He heard it from some normie bookworm...but it seems fitting right now.

Idia's no hero. He'll destroy his world if it means you get to be happy. Not that he had much of one to begin with. You...gave him a life beyond fiction while all he's offered is a curse. Literally and figuratively. Its time he returned what he so greedily stole. He'll make you move on through force.

The months are slow and difficult. Despite being nearby, Idia only ever seeks you out for work-related reasons. Even then he is very cold and dismissive . He also does not turn you away when you take the initiative. Just like old times, you linger around his room and prod him for attention. He wants you to leave, but also doesn't want to be cruel. So, he maintains this impassive position and lets you do whatever you please. Yet the situation is scarily similar to how you both were at NRC. Except instead of using his past as an excuse, he now uses your work dynamic to enable his noncommittal ways.

There really is only so much one person can take. After Idia left NRC, you pinned his switch in behavior on the lifestyle change and distance separating you both. You knew Idia would be someone you had to work hard for when you started to date, and so the situation was one you viewed as an obstacle to overcome. The solution was simple - you would go to S.T.Y.X and prove to him that you were willing to make it work. Without the physical distance, you hoped that he would let you in again. That you wouldn't have to hear reassurances from his brother anymore, and instead hear his feelings from his own mouth instead. Then you both could work out the details together in time. Seeing him reject you at first was discouraging, but you did not let it rest there. Perhaps he needed time and to get used to your presence in his home. After all, these were new waters. You would be patient. You would prove yourself capable.

Life becomes a time capsule. As the days went by, a bitter feeling grew in your stomach. Why wouldn't he laugh? Why wouldn't he look in your eyes anymore? Why is he retreating even further? What were you doing wrong? How could you fix it? Is it you? Your performance in the lab is outstanding according to your supervisors, and your work friends seem to find you agreeable enough. Can't he see that you've adjusted well and are happy here? There's nothing to worry about. How else can you prove yourself?

These thoughts plague your mind to an extend that Ortho felt the need to preform psychiatric evaluation. You dismissed his concerns with a long list of things about your new home that make you happy - including him. It pacifies his panic and somehow mitigates your own as well.

Until one fateful day, when you decided to take your lunch early and overheard a conversation between two senior S.T.Y.X employees

"Isn't the boss' partner kind of pitiful?" One technician spoke in a hush whisper, taking a bite from her salad, "He doesn't give them the time of day. I can't believe they've stuck around this long. Screw the job, I would have been out after the first week," "Shhh! Quit gossiping, it's bad. Especially about the one who pays our bills," The other scolds. "I know....but isn't it just sad. They're clearly being taken advantage of. I can't help but feel sorry" "It's not just you...to tell the truth, I had no clue Director Idia had a partner up until recently. If anything, I thought he disliked Assistant MC and kept them around for Director Ortho's sake. Imagine my shock..." They both snicker at the notion. "Yeah. I give them a few more months...maybe a year. Despite being smart in the lab, they clearly can't read the room:

It was the last straw. Like ice water being dunked over your head after a hot shower. The lunch pale in your grasp suddenly felt like it weighed ten times heavier, and a cold sweat dripped down your back. They were right. He didn't want you here. It was time to move on or else you'll just be living out an endless loop. Nothing has changed since your youth aside from the location. No matter how long you wait, no matter how much effort and time you offer ... the relationship is doomed to fail. You gave him everything...and it was time to stop waiting. To stop expecting and hoping. Time to accept reality.

Your lunch goes discarded in a nearby bin and your shift abandoned. You would not work another second for S.T.Y.X despite the facility not being the source of your anguish. Your shoes clack loudly against the tile flooring as you speed-walk to Idia's office, where he was lazily reviewing data on a recent experiment. His phone set off to the side with some automated gatcha daily playing.

You use your 'special' pass (curtesy of ortho) to get in. The metal door swings out as you march inside and turn off his screen without asking.

"H-h'-hey! What are you-" He shrieks and turns in his chair. "We need to talk" "Can't it wait until later? I'm busy working, if you can't tell" "No" Your tone is demanding. Definite. You all but yank the badge from around your neck and drop it in his lap. In that motion, he knew. Your eyes scrunch tight and teeth grind together. He was prepared for this. For you to lash out and yell at him for your suffering. Make him the bad guy in your story and finally beat the game for good. Not for you to deflate. Not for the glassy, disappointed stain on your eyes. Or the shallow breaths as you calm yourself - not letting your emotions frighten him like a spooked cat. "I'm quitting," "S.T.Y.X? You know you can't just quit. There's a process," He refutes, lazily pushing his chair back with an anxious fidget. "Not just S.T.Y.X...I'm quitting us. I can't do this anymore," "Oh. Alright. Let me get the paperwork," "Alright?" You whisper, gaping at him "...just alright? That's all you have to say to me? Not even 'why' ?" He pauses typing on a holographic keyboard, cocking an eyebrow at the question. "What? You want me to beg you to stay or something like that? We're not in an anime," His words die out at the end, and had it not been for your disbelief you would have caught the note of sadness in them, "you want to go? Then go. I warned you about this place" "No...you warned me about the facility. It's not the facility I have a problem with. I actually like it here" "So it's me then, huh? I warned you about that too," He grumbles and continues to type, "I'm not whatever it is that you saw in me. It's your fault for sticking it out this long. I knew this was how it would end from the start" A silence follows aside from the occasional noise from his computer. That's it. The nail in the coffin. You finally realized the truth. He was no good for you. He couldn't be 'fixed'. With an approving chime, he finally has all the departure paperwork pulled up for you to sign. "Alright. Sign these and I'll get you an escort," He holds out a tablet in pen without looking from his computer. You don't take it. "Hello? I said - " he turns to face you, irritated "....here" Silent tears stream down your cheeks and pool at the tip of your chin, dripping to the tile below. Wide eyes lock in his general direction. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, as if your mind was thousands of miles away. His heart breaks. "You never even gave us a chance, did you?" He says nothing. "It wasn't about 'making it work' for you. It was always a matter of 'how long'. You've been waiting for me to leave you, all this time?" It wasn't a question. "All this time, I've been trying to prove myself. I've been thinking that I did something wrong...that I needed to be better" the word stings your tongue and seems to strike him, " but I was never even close to enough" we were never enough

With languid movements, you take the pen from him and sign the papers. You would not hide your sadness. Your grief. Your pain for a relationship that was never actually one. For a battle that only had one party fighting.

He lets you go, the metal door swinging shut and rattling him to his core. Idia's hands shake as he tries to return to his work. They tremble over the holographic keyboard, making his blue nails look like moving neon streaks in the air.

He had always thought you ere just being kind. That your self-sacrificing nature was natural, and that someone else was more deserving of it. He failed to consider the possibility that all the things you did...you did for him alone. You did out of the same anxieties and fears he felt.

In a way, you both were at fault. He led himself down a self-fulfilling prophecy - letting his anxieties and what-ifs become reality. And you? You thought everything could be fixed with time. With sacrifice. That eventually he would grow. You both were plants, one overwatered and the other left parched in the sun.

He did get one thing right. This was defiantly a bad end. Just not in the way he originally believed...

Somehow, life becomes worse than before you arrived at S.T.Y.X. At least when you were around, people did see him more out of his office or room. Seeing him revert to his previous ways without so much as an inkling of sadness for losing you....yeah, it did not look good. Worse than people not even knowing you were his partner at first. After your departure, rumors began to spread that you had finally snapped. The pity felt for you morphed into judgement towards his character. Others saw him as a heartless recluse, and the pity was extended to Ortho of all things. If Idia could toss out a loyal partner of years, what about the little robot? Perhaps despite all the gossip, the others at S.T.Y.X did not fully believe that he would let you leave so easily. That he wasn't as detached as the Shroud name dictates.

Little do they know that he's become a shadow of his former self. He can't even act self-depreciative. Pleasantries don't hit like they used to. Having you at a distance...well, was still considered as being with you. Now that you're never coming back, it's harder. Everything reminds him of you. Your favorite snacks are still stocked in the cafeteria, and there are blankets in his room that still have your scent. Occasionally a file will pop up with your work in it while he's doing reviews...and then there's Ortho. When you left, he was crushed. He pestered Idia for days - the security cameras giving him full knowledge of what happened. Yet no matter what the robot said about the situation, Idia didn't want to hear it. Eventually he took away Ortho's access data to his personal spaces.

That didn't stop the bot from talking through the door and spamming his brother's inboxes. Despite cutting off contact with his big brother, you still spoke to Ortho regularly. He refused to let his big brother lose all connection to you, and updated him on your well-being. Regardless of what Idia said, hearing about you made a difference. At first it increases his anxiety and drops his mood...but every time, like a scheduled delay, his serotonin levels will spike. Be it from a clip of your voice, a picture, or even just the mention of your name.

"Brother! I just finished a call with MC. Today they decided to adopt a cat! Would you like to see a picture?" His computer beeps with an incoming missive. Idia clicks it, and the screen displays a photo of you with a small white kitten in your arms. "They've decided to name it Grimm Jr. From what I heard, the predecessor was not pleased to be 'replaced,' as he calls it" Ortho laughs from the other side of the door, but Idia is too focused on the image on his screen. The curve in your smile and the way you gently cradle the kitten. You seem...happy. Much better than how he is doing. He fails to hear the door beep, granting access, neither the bot fly up next to him to look at the picture. "Big brother, why don't you apologize to MC? They would listen," Idia startles, clutching his chest as his hair flairs cherry red for a brief moment. He swivels in his chair and closes the image quickly. "I'm not apologizing for nothing. It's not like I miss them or anything. My life's great without having a normie relationship to manage" "Your body language suggests that you are lying" Ortho states, his eyes squinting cheekily. Idia hunches over, glaring at his keyboard and fiddling with his sleeves, "It's not like they'd want to see me anyways. I blew it. Only an idiot would forgive what I did," "That's not true! MC loves you!" Idia glares at him from the corner of his eye, "Yeah? They look pretty happy without me. They were miserable here" "Because you purposefully made them miserable! You are very smart brother, but even I understand emotions better than you and I am an artificial lifeform!" "Then what should I do, Ortho? Go beg them to take me back like some cringe sitcom?!" "Yes!" Idia blanches at the thought, but doesn't entirely dismiss it. Ortho glares holes into his head, causing Idia to shrink into his chair. "You are always afraid, brother. You lost them to your fears once...do you want to regret that? Are you really satisfied with pictures and stories? Why deny yourself wonderful things! We are not trapped anymore!"

Ortho leaves him with one piece of information - an apartment address. He sends it to all of Idia's emails and even somehow makes it the background of his tablet. He can't change it or take it off.

He stares at it long and hard. Searches the place up and even uses virtual reality to scope out the building. While perhaps a bit creepy...he hacks the security cameras and watches feed of you coming and going over the past moths. Some days you look perfectly well, and others you look worse for wear. If he went...would you even want to see him? Would you let him in? Kick him out? Is he willing to even try? What if you already moved on...no, Ortho wouldn't set him up for that if he knew you were happy with someone else.

Idia leaves S.T.Y.X for the first time in months. His request for leave shocks other employees. Yet he's gone the moment it's approved, afraid that he'll lose his edge if he thinks too long on it.

He finds himself at the door of a middle-class apartment in the Kingdom of Roses. Second floor, third door to the left, just like he memorized. He knows its yours from the ribbons tied on the doorknob, themed after one of your favorite animes. One he introduced to you...

In his hands is a small box of candies - a peace offering, just in case you want to kill him on sight.

His boney knuckles wrap around the doorknocker and thwack it three times. Sweat pools in his palms and he jolts away. The seconds like hours as his painted nails dig crescents into his palms. The door opens. "Hi, how can I -" You pause mid-sentence, your mouth going dry. Grimm Jr. snuggled in one of your arms while the other holds the door open, "I-idia?" "T-that's my name," He grimaces, looking anywhere but at you. "What are you doing here?" His tongue feels heavy and the tips of his hair fade to a pale orange. He studders and fumbles with the box of candies, holding them out to you with a grimace. "I wanted to see you...urk. I hope that's not weird! Can ... I come in?" You eye the box in thought, before reaching out to take it and opening the door further. It was a start.

You hear him out - through the stuttering and the self-depreciative comments that he hastily retracts. This isn't just about him. It's about you and everything else in-between. Shockingly enough, you agree to give him a second chance. It wasn't entirely his fault after all ... and you did still love him. Although now there are ground rules. You would not be returning to S.T.Y.X. You've finally created a stable home for yourself and have a life in this new city. You have a career, friends, and a life that doesn't include him. You need the individuality. You would no longer try to morph yourself for him or be placid. If he wanted to spend time with you, he would have to leave S.T.Y.X and come stay at your apartment. You would no longer be the one always reaching out, he would have to start showing initiative and making time for you. You would see how things progress from that point. He was not a child, and you would not beg for basic needs to be met anymore. Words would not be enough, you need actions. It was time for 50 : 50.

Weirdly enough, he agrees to all your rules without a single complaint. Not a normie comment or slang filled statement leaves his lips. He's still that nerdy dork you fell in love with at heart, but these 'normie' things? Well, Idia's accepted that he wants those things. As much as it is difficult for him to admit, they only grossed him out so much before because he always believed they were unattainable

He's true to his word. He calls you every day, first thing when he wakes up (in the late afternoon. He still is a hermit at heart). At first it made him anxious, and he'd hover over the contact for fifteen minutes before dialing. Yet it soon became easy, with his heart only beating fast from happiness. He takes the weekends off and comes to spend them at your apartments. Sometimes he brings Ortho and it becomes a sleepover with games - and at some point you start inviting your other heartslabyul friends from back in the day too. Eventually you do come around the compound again. It's awkward to say the least, considering how you left. Yet at the same time, it's a breath of fresh air. The others are shocked to see him out of his office, and he eats IN THE CAFETERIA. Woah. He calls you by your name and not 'assistant' when in public. Homie scares some people. That's what he does. He gives you a special watch for your anniversary. It's paired with on he has and solar powered, so you can contact him at any time. As a natural born worry-wart, he can't help but worry for your safety. Since watching the appartment CCTV is 'creepy,' he just asks that you wear the watch if you're going out anywhere. It won't die and with the click of a button he'll be alerted. In exchange, you can use it to contact him whenever you want. He'll always get back instantly since it might be an emergency. The watch is also directly linked to Ortho's system, so you can contact him as well. Who needs Cortana when you have Ortho?

For the first time, Idia feels secure in a relationship. He can't count Ortho since the boy is technically his creation. Ortho would always be there...and now? Idia's confident you will too.

Does that mean you should get married? Isn't that the next step in all this?

Well....shit (pleasant connotation)

He never would have tinkered with this idea before considering his 'family'. Who the hell in their right mind would marry a Shroud? A fool. Are you a fool? Maybe.

It's late evening on a Sunday night when you're both walking home together after hitting up a local diner for hearty eats. Wow. Look at him. On a date. So weird...pshh.

Idia walks at your side, forcing his pace to match yours. Not everyone is graced with his long stickman legs. His hands are buried deep in his hoodie and his posture is slightly slouched. Classic scary dog privilege for a nighttime walk - well, if his hair didn't scream valentine's day pink to the world. Although no one else has flaming hair other than the Shroud family, so he doubts anyone would interrupt.

You decide to take the long path home and through a nearby park. The night was still young for nightowls such as yourselves, and fresh air was always crisp at this hour.

Along that path you decide to stop at a cement bench by some vending machines and chill out for a bit. Despite having just ate, Idia gets you each a can of coffee.

He'd be leaving to go back to S.T.Y.X tomorrow. Like he does every Sunday. His gaze drifts to the watch on your wrist and thinks about adding some new features - maybe video chat? So he can see you throughout the day. He wonders what you'll be up to while he's stuck in the lab. Maybe you'll go shopping, or play a new game. Maybe you'll try out a new recipe or take Grimm Jr. out to play. He wishes he could see you during the week.

Ah. You're talking. He should probably tune in or you'll get mad at him. Why's it so hard to focus? He hasn't felt this uneasy in a while...

Why is he having these kinds of thoughts? It's weird.

"You okay? You seem a little spaced," You pull him from his thoughts, a concerned crease wrinkling your temple. "Eh. It's nothing. Just not looking forward to the week," he chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling. It's always a bummer when you dip. Not to sound clingy or anything" His golden hues spark for a moment, a pale pink dusting his cheeks as he whips his head to look at you.

"W-wait - really? I was just thinking the same thing...." "You were?" "Yeah. It's...kind of weird without you. Everything's emptier. Wow. That was pretty cringe. Sorry." He grimaces, internally screaming and knowing that this was going to replay when he tried to sleep later. You tilt your head at him, a slight frown on the cusp of your lip. Something tickles at his fingers and he looks down to see you lace your hand with his. "I miss you too," your words are soft. Genuine. He feels his neck grow hot, the pink glow radiating off him betraying him. Idia looks between your interlaced fingers and the drink in his hand. There...wouldn't ever be a 'right' time for this. Would there? You've waited long enough. He pulls his hand away and pops the soda tab off with deft hands.

"Hey..." he twiddles with the soda tab in his hands, "on a scale of 1-10, how are my odds of getting a yes?" "A 'yes' to what?" "To this, " he sighs through his nose, holding the tab out towards you with a shaking hand, "will you marry me?"

{A soda tab from canned coffee. Not the most charming offering, and it barely fits around your pinky finger. Yet, Idia's always been impulsive at his core. Had he not acted in the moment, he likely would have ran countless possibilities over and over in his mind. While not your forever ring, the tab will remain a sentimental piece}

{Idia is not a man with a keen eye fore jewelry - but he knows quality. Combine his eye for perfection with his craftsmanship and behold - a ring made from purified blot. The center gem is a piece of magestone in it's most refined state. The band is titanium and there are small sapphires along the molding. Since he would be wearing a matching band, Idia decided to keep the design simple. He prefers functionality over all. Yet he does want you to feel proud of his handiwork, so he includes vintage molding on your band only. He wears a smooth black band on his ring finger, and never removes it}

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twst idia #IM DEAD #THIS TOOK FOUR HOURS #I LEGIT WAS NOT PLANNING TO WRITE ALL THIS #MY HANDS

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ghostykapi · 2 months

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need to take this stress off (this stress off)

hirai momo & fem!reader // oopz i made it spicy ehe! // mentions of a lil jealous momo n like also a background jealous sana over dubu ehe!

momo swears she must have won the lottery to have you as her girlfriend

ever since meeting you, momo has been nothing but spoiled. may it be gifts, affection, time and love it doesn’t matter, a simple smile and you’re already doing anything and everything for her

it’s cute, the way you’re wrapped around her finger and the way you don’t bother denying it. why would you? you don’t even blink when they say you are a simp

it’s because they don’t know how much you’ve wrapped momo around your fingers and how much willing she is to worship you

nayeon can, unfortunately, attest to that

“y/n” the eldest is stressed at the way you are giggling, because she knows that you will cause trouble with that outfit you are wearing “we have work today”

“i also have work today” you pout, but nayeon smacks your arm out of stress “wha-hey! i can’t be the only one wearing cute outfits”

“yes but you have control” nayeon stresses her words, making sure it gets stuck in your head “momo has no self control when it comes to you”

“she’s going to be fine i swear!” you huff, though she knows deep down your intentions are different “she’s a big girl, she can handle herself”

“noooooo she literally can’t unless she’s on stage”

“she will have to make do, i have to look cute while working y’know. i may work as a day bartender but i will always be a cute day bartender”

nayeon is still groaning in protest, knowing how much momo will be distracted when you walk in the practice room, because you always drop food from the restaurant you work at on the dot every practice day

“don’t you have a uniform to wear?” nayeon asks, watching you dust down your skirt. it’s not short but because it’s paired with a cropped shirt that showcases your stomach and that new shiny belly piercing you have, she thinks that you’re looking too good for momo to handle

“yeah well today is the one day i’m free from the uniform rule. won a bet at work and now i’m cashing in” you giggle, and she thinks you are up to no good “anyway please step aside unnie i want to give you guys lunch and give my girlfriend a kiss”

“ffuuuuckking hell fine” nayeon gives up, letting you in and promptly causing all of twice to look over who just walked in the door.

you simply blink at the members who resume ‘fighting’ on the ground as you bring over bags full of lunch, to the couches, where momo gawks at you and your outfit. her words dying as she stares at you, too stunned at your outfit to even say anything

nayeon is right beside you getting lunch out of the boxes, eye rolling at how her roommate is acting.

you better not, nayeon’s mouths at momo over your back, we still have to practice the formation so you better not do what ever you think you want to do

“y/n!” dahyun appears right beside you, whistling at the boxes of food “thank you for bringing over food again”

“no problem dubu” you smile, ignoring momo’s staring, and the fact that dahyun’s seemingly a bit closer than usual. does she have the same intentions as you? “oh! i got you that drink you wanted too, you know the chocolate milk mixed with berries drink. i think i got the recipe dialed down so—”

you stop your rambling when you feel dahyun hug you, which is much appreciated, but you just got (1) caught off guard and (2) dahyun is wearing a short skirt and a tight top that she is using as a magnet for sana

“thank you unnie!” you’re blushing as you realize what she’s trying to do, especially with how (1) close she is, (2) how her lips are dangerously close to yours and (3) she has her hands on your exposed tummy oh god why does twice have such pointy nails–

“dahyunnie” “sweetheart”

whatever is happening though is immediately stopped, as momo and sana approach the both of you. where momo picks you up bridal style once sana manages to pull dahyun away. you swear you saw sana and momo have the same expression before it was wiped out with either a faux smile and a more sinister one

“emergency” momo says as you are carried out by her. her very strong arms carrying you away from twice, whom half are amused and the other half either stressed or confused on what just happened

sana hums at her best friend’s behavior before wrapping her arms around dahyun, whispering to her what kind of treatment she will get when she drags dahyun to her apartment.

the rest of twice watches as dahyun turns extremely red before requesting to finally eat lunch

you on the other hand are just so happy, because momo flags down a taxi, brings you inside and tells the driver to book it towards your apartment.

despite the earlier display, you were the one who puts her hand on your thigh, you’re the one who whispers to her all the things she can do when she gets home, she’s the one who takes in shaky breaths and smiles because goodness momo just looks so cute

despite the multiple texts of nayeon of i told you momo is unhinged when it comes to you, you laugh as you get dragged by momo towards inside your apartment and into your room.

momo is nothing but spoiled by you, so when you pull away from her advances, she starts whining and pouting

“no. you had practice today darling” you push her against the bed, making momo gulp at how sexy you look right now. “and i had work today. the manager only lets me out for 1 hour and you decide that i clock in out early? tsk tsk”

“you know better baby” you continue, but the smirk you wear and the way momo’s teeth are aching you both know whatever ‘scolding’ you have is pointless “so impulsive”

“please” momo lets you open her mouth, your thumb pressing down on her teeth, that brings out a whimper from her “please”

you coo, removing your thumb from her mouth before she can even try to suck on it

“awh baby you must be aching” her eyes are begging for any signal for her to go ahead, to do anything you both want and more

momo is desperate. you love her like this, proves to show how much you both need each other

“what are the magic words?”

“please” she gently grabs one of your hands that rests on her cheek and gives it a kiss “pretty girl please let me”

you kiss her, basically letting her loose. letting her fulfill whatever you promised her in that taxi

“you’re getting eager” you are delighted by the way she’s all over you, her hands sliding under your pathetic excuse of a shirt and bra, playing with the piercings you got just weeks ago “my pretty eager girl”

momo doesn’t bother replying, her mouth too preoccupied biting, nipping and sucking on the skin of your neck. your nails digging in the skin of her back, your eyes struggling to focus on the ceiling as she manhandles you like a toy

teeth aching and ready to do more, you feel her rip out whatever you are wearing. that actually shocks you, because you realize how flimsy cloth can be in your girlfriend’s strong hands, especially knowing she works out when she can

so by the time you’re just basically in your panties, you gently pull her by her hair

“ah ah ah” you gently push her away and standing up, the whine that escapes her mouth makes you even more wet “get rid of your clothes. wear a strap, pick which one you like baby, i wanna make sure you know who i belong to”

it takes her a few seconds to scramble to get rid of her clothes and to grab the pink glittery strap that’s just conveniently there, her mind only thinking of you

“cute” momo is so obedient, back to sitting, the only difference is that she has that glittery pink thick strap on her and you know that thing is going to break you

so you grant whatever she has been pleading. letting her get rid the last of what you are wearing, gently combing your hair as you lube up the strap and gently sink down on it. both of you gently moaning out the moment you fully take it all in, one in awe and one out of bliss

you control the pace by taking it slow. grabbing momo’s hands and letting them wherever you want them to stay on. whispering sweet words of praise at how good she is for letting you control her, how good she is for saying please, how much she deserves your mouth on her cunt after you are satisfied

it drives momo crazy, so much so that she gently thrusts her hips up at every praise, making you bit by bit up your own pace. suddenly you’re full on bouncing on her strap, panting and moaning at how it feels so amazing

“that’s it” momo is drooling over this view, the way you’re bouncing on her with your eyes hazy and the shiny piercings on your tits hypnotizing her “fucking bounce on me jus’ like that sweet girl”

you can feel the strap starting to break your mind, and it gets worse with the way momo is smirking, hips snapping up to meet yours. the slick already covering her hips and spreading to her abs making you absolutely more feral than you need to be

there’s a shift in the air, and all of the sudden momo has the control now

“look at you” she’s taunting you and yet she’s using one of her hands to draw slow tight circles on your clit, forcing you to start moaning louder and lose a bit of your rhythm “such a pretty fucking girl on top of me making a mess”

you can’t even comprehend that it’s coming to you like a truck, so when you snap, your back bends, eyes rolling too far back, thighs shake and you let out a choked up moan. momo’s quick to get a hold of you, pulling you against her, chest to chest, and continue to fuck you with animalistic speed

“oh no no no you don’t get to relax” she’s too feral for your own good, because now she’s got your back on the bed, you’re clinging and scratching unto her shoulders, her hips drilling deliciously more and more “my good girl doesn’t get to relax, oh no, she has to get fucked-mmph!-into oblivion!”

“please!” you wail, begging for something you don’t even know, your mind barely clinging on “baby–fuuuckkk–please let me–mph!–let me take a quick breather please please please”

“i can’t stop baby, you just look so good for me” she’s not stopping, only kissing you to silence your moans “sound so delicious for me, i think i need to eat you out after this hmm? would you let me pretty girl? you don’t want me to starve do you hm?”

“n-no i” you are so close again, the pleasure doubling up as you keep on going higher and higher “i’m so close please just let me cum again please”

she grants you what you want, that leads you to scream out, her lips messily locking against yours to muffle the moans, her hips rocking out the orgasm and her hands rubbing your sides to help you calm down when she pulls back

“my woman” you hear her whisper “my amazing sexy woman”

when you finally have the energy to properly take a look at her, you notice that she’s still slowly rocking that strap that’s inside of you. the slow movements and the hands that are placed on your hips only tell one thing

“my stunning girl”

her turn to be mean and ruin you

#twice x reader #twice smut #twice scenarios #twice imagine #twice imagines #hirai momo #hirai momo x reader #hirai momo scenarios #hirai momo imagines #hirai momo imagine

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stevie-petey · 6 months

Text

episode nine: the fall

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.” He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

Summary: surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, mentions of wounds

Words: 9.1k

Before you swing in: this is it !!! last official chapter of season 2 :) this chapter is pure fluff yall. just 9k words of utter disgusting bug n steve, so i hope it makes up for how long it took for them to get to this point lmao. enjoy !

True to your promise with Jonathan, nothing necessarily changes between the two of you; things just shift. You stop being so tactile with him out of respect for Nancy, now only reaching for his hand for comfort rather than to have him so near. It takes some trial and error, but eventually the two of you manage to strike up a good balance.

You still spend most of your days either together at his house or yours. Only now, Nancy accompanies you, and it’s lovely.

“Dustin told me that Steve practically drooled over you last night before the Snowball.” Jonathan teases you, hunched over his kitchen table scribbling a half-assed essay that’s already a day late.

Nancy giggles as you throw your pencil at the boy. “That did not happen, mind your own business.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. He kept staring at you today during lunch.” Nancy slides over her paper and taps her pencil on a particular problem she’s stuck on. She’s still getting used to talking about this with you, but she pushes aside her unease and tries anyway. “Do you know the answer for number five?”

Her words cause you to blush, your mind still reeling from your conversation with Steve last night. You told him you’d wait for him, and he looked at you as if you’d promised him the world and more. Then, today at lunch, Steve had boldly found you sitting with Nancy and Jonathan outside and joined.

It was a welcome change, and he sat so close to you that your thighs pressed together underneath the picnic bench you’d been eating at.

“He wasn’t staring at me,” you mumble, embarrassed and still feeling his weight pressed against you, before sliding your paper over to Nancy. “And I got Henry Ford.”

Frowning, Nancy erases her answer. “That makes no sense.”

“My answer or Steve not staring at me?”

“Both.” Nancy and Jonathan say at the same time.

You throw another pencil at Jonathan. “I wasn’t talking to you, write your late essay.”

He ducks, “Would you stop?”

“Not unless you stop speaking.”

“This is my house, bug–”

“And I can call your mom right now and she’d let me stay.” You cross your arms at Jonathan, knowing you’ve already won the argument. “Any more complaints?”

Jonathan goes back to writing his essay, grumbling under his breath about how you can’t keep pulling the mom card, and you giggle at his anger alongside Nancy. He’s the one who wanted the two of you to get along, he should’ve known that you and Nancy would just make his life miserable.

The three of you go back to working quietly at the table, you and Nancy occasionally asking each other for help on certain questions, while Jonathan grows more and more frustrated by his essay. After he’s angrily scribbled out his fifth line, Nancy snatches the paper from him and points towards the back door.

“Out,” she tells him.

Jonathan blinks. “What?”

“Go outside, take a small walk, and calm down. You’re frustrated and won’t get anywhere if you keep this up.”

They stare at each other, Nancy silently daring him to argue with her, and you watch in amusement. She has him wrapped around her finger, and after only a few seconds, Jonathan sighs and gets up from the kitchen table. “I’m doing this because I want to, alright?”

You snort. “Sure, buddy.”

He gives you the finger, presses a kiss to Nancy’s forehead, and then grabs a coat to go outside.

Once he’s gone, Nancy turns to you and sets down her pencil. “So, how long are you planning on pretending that Steve doesn’t like you?”

You whip your head up, dropping your pencil in the process, startled by her forward question. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I…” Though you’ve slowly gotten used to Nancy being with Jonathan, it still feels too soon to talk to her about Steve, even if she’s given you her blessing. It feels too raw, too inappropriate, to discuss it with her. “I don’t think we should talk about this–”

“C’mon, Y/N. It’s obvious he at least feels something for you, and if anyone deserves Steve, it’s you.” Nancy gently takes your hand, her voice sincere. “He came outside for lunch looking for you today, he drove you to the Snowball, he’s been visiting you at work ever since you smiled at him last year.”

You look away from her. “It’s… complicated.”

“It’s not…” Nancy swallows, clears her throat, and looks away as well. It still has taken her time to adjust to the shift between the four of you, to finally understand that it’s now okay to talk about these things with one another. “It’s not because of me, right?”

A beat of silence passes, and when you don’t say anything, Nancy sighs. “Shit.”

“He’s still healing, Nance.” You admit, feeling bad for bringing this upon her. You don’t want her to feel responsible for any of it, it’s not her fault that the boys you’ve loved have loved her first. The wound of it has healed now, though the scar that it has left will never fade.

You both know this, neither one of you want to admit it to the other.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She shakes her head, the familiar guilt of somehow always the one hurting you clawing at her. “I wish things had been different between me and him.”

You shrug, you don’t see any reason to blame her. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t wish things had been different between the two of you,” you admit, knowing how bizarre it may sound. When Nancy raises her eyebrows, you’re quick to explain. “What I mean is, if Steve had never been with you, who knows who he’d be now? Or if Jonathan had never been my best friend, would you still have found each other?”

Nancy bites her lip, still unconvinced. “I don’t know, Y/N…”

“I think, truthfully, that we all unwound with who we were supposed to.” You’re not sure how to explain this, to express your unusual way of viewing such complex situations. “Without our histories, without being so intertwined with one another, I don’t think we ever would’ve unwound how we were supposed to. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Nancy nods, although hesitant. “And Steve is still… Unwinding from me?”

You cringe, knowing how silly it all sounds. “I know it sounds dumb, but he is, and while I’m not saying he doesn’t like me… I told him to take his time.”

“You’d really wait for him?”

“I would.”

Nancy sighs and goes back to her assignment, continuously amazed by your selflessness. “You’re too good.”

You shrug again, now used to being told this by others. It doesn’t bother you like it used to, you’ve come to view your kindness as something wholly yours and no one else’s to understand. It took so much violence to become so kind, and you will never, ever apologize for it now. “It adds to my charm.”

Jonathan walks back in right as Nancy bursts into loud laughter, you do as well, the remaining tension between you and her now gone. He sees the way she clutches her stomach and how you have to grab onto the table so you don’t fall over as you laugh. “Did I miss something?”

You wipe at your eyes, still giggling. “No, bee. Sit down and do your work.”

“Yeah,” Nancy giggles again, feeling breathless. “What Y/N said.”

“You two are the worst.” Jonathan slumps in his seat and goes back to his essay.

“You love us,” you tease, knowing that he hasn’t told Nancy this yet.

He smiles shyly and avoids Nancy’s eye. “Yeah, I do.”

They both blush and there’s a childish energy to them, shy and soft and sweet. You watch them with a warm smile, endlessly happy for them both; they’re sweet to watch, still shy around one another.

As you watch Jonathan and Nancy giggle softly as they help each other with their assignments, looking over at you for help as well, you know that junior year is finally starting to look up.

–

Steve continues to join you, Jonathan, and Nancy for lunch. He makes himself a permanent seat next to you, never once straying far from your side, and eventually he even ends up back in the library with the three of you.

It’s reminiscent of your sophomore year, back when you’d just defeated the Demogorgon and Nancy had gone back to Steve. For a brief few months, you’d all study in the library together and formed your own nice, albeit tense, group.

Then lines and threads became tangled and unspoken feelings became harsh actions.

Now, Nancy and Jonathan are whispering about something, off in their own world, and you’re currently helping Steve with an English assignment.

It’s the last day before winter break, so it’s hard getting him to pay attention to what you’re saying. All he can focus on is the way you’ve pinned your hair up, some pieces of hair falling over your face, and how you look so lovely in your white sweater.

“Are you listening to me?” You ask him, narrowing your eyes.

Steve coughs, knowing he’s been caught. “Yeah, totally.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms and lean back in your seat, distancing yourself from the boy, which only makes him frown. “What did I just say, then?”

“C’mere,” he huffs at you, tugging at your chair so that you’re now pressed flush against him; just the way he likes it. You blush, your stomach flutters wildly at the idea that he can’t be more than five inches away from you. Steve sees this, sends you a wink, and tries to use this to his advantage. “We both know I wasn’t listening, angel.”

Angel.

It’s become his new name for you, though he hasn’t said it since the night of the Snowball; the name drips from his lips as if saturated in sunlight. Although you want to litter his face with kisses and call him lovely and handsome and wonderful, you know that in this instance, Steve has only used the nickname to get on your good side.

And two can play that game.

“I don’t know, honey.” You lean in closer to Steve, angling your head so that you look up at him while you use your own name for him. His breath always hitches when you look up at him like this, when you call him honey again for the first time all sweet and soft. “I was hoping you’d been listening.”

Steve gulps, he’s still not used to the way your voice dips low when you want his attention. How when you call him honey he swears he can taste the residue of it in his mouth. He leans closer as well, your faces inches apart, and he’s forgotten what the two of you are even talking about. “I–I’m sorry?”

As soon as he’s apologized, you pull yourself away, just before Steve’s lips land on yours, and go back to the English assignment. You’re immensely pleased with yourself, especially when Steve almost face plants against the library table when you suddenly move away. “Apology accepted! Now, let’s go back to Shakespeare, shall we?”

Steve’s jaw drops, only now realizing that he’s been tricked. “Oh, that was evil, Y/N.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You wink at him, and Steve has never wanted to kiss a smirk off of someone’s face more.

He’s addicted to it, honestly.

Later that day, once school has let out, Steve drives you to work. This was another shift that came with Jonathan and Nancy getting together. While your best friend still drives you to school, it’s now Steve who drives you to work and picks you up.

He enjoys spending the time with you, having you all to himself during the simple ten minute drive to Bookstrordinary. The two of you rarely say much during these drives, and it’s everything Steve could ask for and more; he simply has you with him, nothing else needs to be said or done.

Mrs. Waters greets him with a knowing smile, the woman has become more invested in Steve’s infatuation with you than even your mother. “Hello, young man.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” Steve gives her a wave and walks over to his usual station: behind the counter, waiting for you.

You give your boss a quick hug and clock in. “Any new shipments today?”

“All the new books are in the back, so make sure your handsome man does all the heavy lifting, sweetie.” Mrs. Waters giggles at her own words before she slowly makes her way into her office.

“Well,” you nudge Steve. “You heard the woman, you’re a handsome man. Go do the heavy lifting.”

The compliment, though indirect, still rolls over Steve in slow, warm waves. He smiles bashfully at you. “Handsome, huh?”

“Oh, don’t pretend as if you didn’t know.” You flick his nose and walk over to the back door to start retrieving the new shipment. “Seriously, though. Could you help me with these boxes?”

Steve is quick to run over and help, he will always be happy to help you, but before he picks up a box, a thought occurs to him. Leaning against the doorframe, he smirks at you. “I’ll help, after you explain to me that little stunt you pulled earlier in the library.”

“What stunt?” A huff escapes you as you try to pick up a box, but Mrs. Waters had been right. The shipment is heavy, and Steve is currently useless.

“The whole ‘honey’ thing.”

You look up at Steve, knowing exactly what he’s asking, but you toy with him anyways. “Only if you explain the whole ‘angel’ thing.”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groans, annoyed that you’re so good at dodging all of his questions. He doesn’t know what makes you Hendersons so great at deception, but it’s a terrifying thing to witness. “You’re an angel, it’s a fitting name for you.”

Though you’d been expecting him to say this, hearing Steve’s explanation still causes you to blush. Normally it bothers you when people call you an angel and act as if you’re some person above everyone else, but with Steve you know that he means it so genuinely. To him, you’re an angel because he knows you so well.

He doesn’t view you as this innocent creature that can do no wrong; Steve knows how you came to be, he knows the anger you once held, and it’s because of this that he has come to view you as angelic. It takes a lot for someone to become kind again, and Steve knows this better than anyone else.

“You’re sweet honey,” you finally respond, your face still warm from the vulnerability. You want to try for him, become okay with the feeling of being seen. “You asked for a nickname, and that’s what I’ve landed on. Any more questions?”

Steve practically melts against the doorway, and you almost giggle at the sight. “I’m honey?”

“Mhm, sweet honey, but honey sounds less dramatic.”

He laughs, his head is spinning and he’s so enamored with you. “Okay, I like that, but can I ask one more question before I agree to helping you?”

You roll your eyes but nod, secretly enjoying this moment with him. “Ask away.”

“Why honey? Not that I’m complaining, but…” Steve shrugs. “Not so creative.”

You gasp, “Are you saying you don’t accept my nickname for you?”

“No! I–” Steve frantically tries to correct what he’s said, but you grab his hand to calm him down.

“Relax, Steve. I was teasing,” you give his hand a squeeze, his fingers are strong against yours, and take a deep breath. The explanation is more intimate than you’d like, but he deserves to know. “Did you know that honey can be used to treat wounds?”

Steve shakes his head, silent as he listens.

“It’s a natural remedy, an unsuspecting cure, disguised as something only sweet.” You’re suddenly shy again, but you offer Steve more of yourself because you can; because he’s here, all warmth and love and summer. He’s healed wounds within you that you hadn’t known existed until you noticed their scars fading—cuts that have littered your skin from abandonment, guilt, and love. “When I was young, my dad would take me to this local farm on my birthday every summer and he would buy me honey. We’d use it to make sweet tea.”

You pause, the memory practically on your tongue as you remember the taste of the local farmer’s honey and how it would drizzle, slow and smooth, into your sweet tea. You remember your father’s laugh, how he would boast to the entire town that his sweet tea could win awards. “I never really liked tea, but my dad’s sweet tea was amazing.”

The honey had been his secret ingredient.

Steve is quiet after you’ve finished your story. He takes his time responding, he allows the story you’ve told to sink in, he rolls it around in his head, memorizes its details. He knows that you don’t like talking about your father, and the fact that you’ve shared a happy memory about him with Steve…

“Thank you,” he says. There’s a weight behind his thanks, he knows he will never be able to put into words how much this means to him. He tries, though, and pours every truth that he can into his words, “I love the nickname.”

The two of you begin unpacking the new shipment of books after that, working silently side by side.

It’s a lovely summer day within Bookstrordinary, even though it’s the middle of winter in Hawkins.

–

This Christmas Eve, you have your entire kitchen on lockdown. No one is allowed to come in, all food and drinks have been thrown onto the dining room table for others to use. Your hair is tied up, your apron is on, and you’ve banished Dustin from even looking at you.

“This is excessive, even for you.” Dustin scoffs from the living room, annoyed that he can’t even sit at the counter and watch.

You’ve just preheated the oven and are now whisking your dry ingredients together for Mike’s favorite brownies. There’s a rack of Will’s oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter cooling off, alongside Mrs. Wheeler’s sugar cookies she loves. “You lost your baking privileges when you mixed up the salt and sugar last year. Those gingerbread cookies were awful.”

“They’re both white! How was I supposed to know?”

“Stop talking and leave,” you point towards the living room with your whisk and some powder flies out of the bowl in the process.

Dustin tries to argue, but then the doorbell rings and he immediately breaks out into a shit eating grin. “Perfect timing.”

“What–” You try to question what your brother is up to, but he’s already run to answer the door. Sighing, you slowly mix in your wet ingredients and mumble to yourself, “I hate him. I really do.”

“Who do we hate?” Steve slides into the kitchen, not a care in the world, and slides right into Jonathan’s peanut butter cups. “Shit!”

“Steve!” You quickly catch the desserts, barely able to hold onto the bowl of brownie batter in your hands. Once the crisis is averted, you turn to Steve and begin hitting him with your batter covered whisk, effectively ruining his sweater. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited him!” Dustin now slides into the kitchen as well, a gleeful look in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Steve looks down at the batter he’s covered in and scraps some off with his finger before bringing it to his mouth. He hums, nods appreciatively, and smacks his lips. “Ya know, why haven’t I had this before?”

“The brownies are for Mike.” Dustin says, sneakily popping a peanut butter cup into his mouth.

“Wheeler should share, this batter is delicious.” Steve licks some more off of his sweater and you and Dustin cringe at him. When he sees this, he simply shrugs at you both. “What? My sweater is clean.”

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face and go back to the batter. “Again I ask: what are you doing here?”

“Like the kid said, he invited me.” Steve points to Dustin, who sends you a thumbs up. “Didn’t know I’d be walking into a war zone, though.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you say, as if this is all the explanation he needs. When Steve only tilts his head at you in confusion, you huff and put down your bowl so you can quickly explain. “I bake everyone their favorite desserts for Christmas, and normally it’s fine. However, now I have Max, Nancy, Hopper, and El to add to my baking list and I…”

You stumble, now suddenly feeling the effects of baking all day catching up to you. You’re slightly woozy, you can’t remember if you had lunch today. “I’m doing great, honestly.”

“She’s going insane.” Dustin loudly whispers to Steve, his fingers circling around his head in a “crazy” motion.

Steve ignores the boy and stands next to you, placing a hand to the small of your back and leans over your shoulder, allowing you to lean back against him. It’s a simple gesture, and you melt immediately against him. “Give me a bowl and recipe, angel. I’ll help you bake.”

You reluctantly move away from Steve and quickly find a piece of paper and a pen to scribble the recipe for Nancy’s chocolate chip cookies. It’s an easy enough recipe, you trust that Steve can handle the basics.

As you hand the recipe to him, Dustin’s jaw drops. “What, no fair! Why can’t I help bake?”

“Salt and sugar, Dustin. Salt and sugar.”

Steve gathers the ingredients he needs. “Do you have a spare apron?”

“I mean, sure,” you show him where one hangs next to the doorway. “But you’re already covered in brownie batter, so I’m not sure why you need one now.”

“Wanna match with you,” Steve quickly ties the strings around his waist, the apron is far too small on him and it makes you giggle.

Dustin, now very much third wheeling, throws his hands up in the air and marches out of the room. “You two are disgusting, ya know that?”

“Love you too!” You call after the boy, who responds by marching even louder towards his room.

With your brother gone and with Steve’s help, you manage to get through the rest of your baking list in no time. While you hadn’t expected Steve to necessarily fail in the kitchen, you were also pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he seemed to be while helping you bake.

“How’d you get so good at measuring sugar?”

Steve doesn’t look up from his measuring cup, too focused on the task at hand as he carefully counts out how many cups he will need. “My mom.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, not having expected the answer. He never really brought his parents up, something that you’ve noticed but never touched on with him. You figured it was like your father, never wanting to talk about someone who has hurt you.

Hesitantly, you try to learn more. “Does she bake with you a lot?”

“She used to,” Steve counts his third cup and mixes it into the bowl, now working on Max’s coconut bites. “Back when I was little, we used to bake her banana bread together all the time.”

His voice is light, the conversation isn’t a painful one for Steve, so you decide it’s safe to press further. “Well, if you can remember the recipe, I’m sure we can bake it today.”

Steve looks up at you, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, dummy.” The way he’s looking at you with such genuine enthusiasm makes your heart hurt; he’s surprised you’ve offered him kindness. “I was going to bake you those caramel banana cookies, so I have some ripe bananas anyways–”

You’re cut off by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, and he smells of sugar and cinnamon; it’s an addicting scent. “Thank you,” he breathes out, touched that you would do such a thing for him, and you tighten around him, happy that you’re able to give him this.

Later that night, when you walk Steve to his car after a long day of baking, he opens his passenger side door and grabs something from the seat. You watch him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You think I came all the way here on Christmas Eve without a gift for you?” Steve teases, a smirk on his face as he hides something behind his arms.

You gasp, “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Dustin called, I answered, and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to surprise you,” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “Plus, I got homemade banana bread out of it, so shush and close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only because I have your gift waiting in my room. The second we’re done here, I’m running inside and bragging about my impeccable gift giving abilities.”

Steve chuckles fondly, knowing that whatever you will give him will ultimately be his favorite gift he’s ever received. “Okay, moron. Close your eyes.”

With a giggle, you close your eyes and eagerly await whatever you’re about to be given. Steve’s gift from last year, a signed poster of the original Spider-Man comic, now hangs on your bedroom wall. You love it dearly, every time you look at it, you smile.

Something soft is placed within your hands. Its texture is woolen, the material is heavy yet lightweight, and while you can’t figure out exactly what it is, you can’t help but notice how expensive it feels. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You do, and when you see what Steve has given you, you gasp. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

Within your hands is a cardigan. The wool it has been knitted with is a lovely cream color, and you bring the clothing closer to admire all the wonderful details within the knit pattern. With small pieces of wool, hints of baby blues and pinks weave in and out of the cream. Along the front are buttons made from a beautiful dark wood, polished to perfection.

Steve lets out a nervous chuckle and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well. Figured I owed you a new cardigan after basically tearing apart your old one.”

“I was bleeding out, Steve.” Your finger traces over a button, its wood is cool to the touch and so smooth that you can hardly believe it’s real. “If you hadn’t torn my favorite cardigan to stop the bleeding, I wouldn’t be alive today to call you an idiot for even considering I would be mad about that–”

As you admire one of the sleeves, your finger catches on something. Turning the clothing around, you see, within the inside of the sleeve, a messily sewn on patch. The stitches are crooked and horribly uneven, clearly done by someone unskinned with a needle. “What’s this?”

Steve clears his throat, uncharacteristically flustered. “Just… Something I added.”

The patch is small, no bigger than an inch or so, with messy handwriting on it that has become familiar to you through long hours at Bookstrordinary helping you write down all the orders needed for shipments.

S.H.

Steve must mistake your stunned silence for disgust, because he quickly tries to take the cardigan away from you in embarrassment. “Fuck, you–you think it’s weird and you hate it and I went too far–”

He had wanted to give you a piece of himself somehow.

His panicked rambling is cut off by your entire body being thrown against his. Suddenly he has an armful of you, flushed against him in the December chill, and Steve’s heartbeat threatens to beat out of his chest. He has you right where he wants you, in his arms with your perfume swirling around his brain as he buries his face into your hair.

Everything calms within him, all the panic and insecurity he had just been feeling is now gone.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re now crying. No one has ever made something for you, and the hand sewn patch that now resides on your beautiful cardigan makes everything within you burn.

Steve’s fingers slowly make their way to your hair and he risks pressing a kiss atop of your head. He relishes in the way his lips feel against your hair, how it feels like he’s done this all his life. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” You pull your head from his chest and catch his eye. They shine when they look at you, and you can’t help but think about how similar they look compared to last summer. Last July Steve had looked at you like he’d fall to his knees for you and kiss every crevice of your skin if you’d asked him to, and you had run away, terrified of the feelings you weren’t ready to face.

Now, as Steve stares down at you still as if you’re holding the sun within your hands, all you can think is home.

Home.

What a fascinating concept, being able to find a home within someone’s arms.

And it’s a fall like no other.

“I’m glad you love it,” Steve is breathless, both relieved and in awe that he’s done something to render you this speechless, that he has this effect on you.

Neither of you know how long you stand there wrapped in each other, but eventually you force yourself to detangle from the boy. When Steve groans at the loss of your touch, you gently shove him away with a smile. “I still owe you a gift, dummy.”

He thinks about this for a moment, hums to himself and taps his finger against his chin. You giggle, which is all he wanted to make you do, and finally he seems to come to a decision. “Fine, I will allow this because I wanna know what you got me.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick Steve’s nose and begin walking towards your house. “I’ll be back in a second!”

Steve watches as you run back inside, the cardigan he has gifted you is clutched tightly to your chest, and he knows he’s falling as well. He can feel it, the slight tug within his chest that expands into a warmth that steadily beats alongside his heart.

As you promised, you’re back with a small box wrapped in a simple blue paper within no time. Only this time, you’re now wearing the cardigan and Steve’s heart skips a beat when he sees you.

You’re practically skipping as you return to his side, stupidly excited for Steve to see what you’ve gotten for him; you all but shove the gift into his hands. “Open it!”

He can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, though his heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled yet. “So bossy.”

You ignore Steve’s teasing and instead watch the look on his face as he unwraps the box and opens its lid. Within the box, tucked delicately between sheets of tissue paper, is a framed photo of Steve and Dustin.

A mix of emotions cross Steve’s face, from shock to curiosity to pure adoration. His lips part slightly, a slight gasp escapes him. “Y/N…”

You’re beaming, though you shrug as if it’s just another Monday for you. The photo is your favorite, taken the other day while they worked on a robot set that Steve had brought over. “Jonathan left his camera at my place a few weeks ago, and you and Dustin looked incredibly sweet working together, so… I snuck a picture while you two were busy bickering over drill bit sizes.”

In the picture, Dustin’s hands are gesturing wildly at Steve, his eyes manic, yet there’s a genuine smile on both of their faces despite the clear indications that they’re arguing. Tools are scattered around them and a poor, misshapen robot lays discarded on the table in front of them, long forgotten in the midst of their argument.

It’s the perfect photo, honestly.

Steve lets out a wet chuckle, his eyes are shining with fondness. “That kid is such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but you can’t help but love him anyway.” You nudge him, drawing his attention back to you. “It’s not often I see Dustin befriend someone so quickly, ya know.”

Steve ducks his head down, flushed from what you’re implying. “Yeah, well. He’s a good kid.”

“He is.” You stand on your tiptoes and press your lips against his cheek, before whispering into his ear, “and so are you.”

You feel Steve shiver, and he grips at your waist so that you can’t back away again. He pauses for a moment, allows your words to sink in and your kiss to seep throughout his body. There’s more he wants to say, his lips practically beg to be drawn to yours, but he takes a deep breath and says what he knows he can give you. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” Your lips graze Steve’s ear and he shivers again. This, he knows, is where he was always meant to be.

–

Spring comes, and Steve doesn’t get into any of the colleges he applied for.

It’s a hard blow, and the months you’ve spent trying to rebuild his confidence comes crashing down within seconds.

Steve draws into himself, you don’t see him at school for a few days and he doesn’t stop by your work. He’s embarrassed, hiding from his shame of not being good enough to even get into Tech. He’s everything his father told him he’d be. A failure, an embarrassment to the Harrington name.

You give Steve a few days to himself, trusting that he’ll come back when he’s ready; you know how deeply he carries the weight of his father’s expectations. However, when almost a week goes by without any word from the teen, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Which leads you to now: knocking on Steve’s door with platters of fresh baked goods, Mike and the others holding their own assortment of snacks and movies for tonight.

It took a lot of bargaining and multiple batches of brownies, but in the end you convinced Dustin and the others to surprise Steve with a movie night at his house. You knew his parents would be out of town this week, they’re hardly ever home anyways.

After a few swift knocks, you don’t have to wait long before Steve opens the door. He looks tired, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing the ratty sweatpants that you absolutely hate on him. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and when he sees who is behind his door, he frowns. “Why are you all holding snacks?”

“Well, hello to you too, buddy.” Dustin is the first to enter, shoving past Steve without a care in the world. He looks around and whistles, impressed with the house. “Y/N said you were rich, but damn.”

“Is that a pool?” Lucas makes his way in as well, Max loosely holding his hand as she follows.

El looks up at you. “What is a pool?”

“Mike,” you call for the boy to get his attention. When he turns to you, brownie shoved in his mouth, you point towards El. “Can you explain to her what a pool is while I talk to Steve?”

Mike salutes you and grabs El’s hand, yanking her inside so that you’re left alone with the teen. As soon as they’re gone, Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “What is this, Y/N?”

“Mandatory movie night!” You exclaim, hoping that your fake enthusiasm will be enough to rub off on him as well. You really, really hope that this plan works.

Steve sighs again, his heart isn’t in it to play along. “Y/N…”

“You’ve missed an entire week of school and Bookstrordinary misses its most loyal customer.” You’re basically pleading now, scared that Steve will turn you and everyone else away. “I just… I miss you and I know you enjoy the kids, even if you try to deny it, and I want you to just spend this one night with us. No worrying about the future, no family drama, just me, you, and the kids as we watch horrible scary movies and eat an unhealthy amount of sugar, okay?”

“But–”

“No, you’re not allowed to argue with me.” Steve stares at you, baffled, but you simply barge past him and enter the home as well. “We’re going to have fun tonight, damn it.”

He watches as you walk inside and start ordering the kids around. Within no time, you’ve arranged a neat row of cookies and brownies and chips and dinosaur nuggets on his dining room table while the kids start making a fort in the living room.

Steve sighs, knowing he’s long lost this battle with you, and joins you to help with grabbing more blankets and pillows for the fort.

One part of the deal for a movie night at Steve’s was allowing all the kids to pick their own movie to watch. You’d been very hesitant to say yes to this, but ultimately Mike’s nagging won in the end. His movie choice goes first, and within the first fifteen minutes of it, a fort has been made and the kids quickly settle within it, a mess of sheets and pillows and blankets.

You’re on the couch, lazily stretched out, knowing that there’s no room for you in the fort with the others. You don’t mind, you honestly prefer having the couch to yourself, and you only further come to enjoy this when Steve makes his way into the living room and looks around.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks, slightly offended that he doesn’t get to share the fort.

“Here,” you pat the couch, though you don’t bother to make any room for him. Your entire body rests on the couch, there isn’t enough space for him to sit comfortably on the edge.

Steve bites his lip. He wants, more than anything, to lay on top of you and melt into your body, but he just isn’t sure what boundaries have been placed between the two of you. When you notice his misplaced hesitation, you simply sigh and tug at his legs, causing him to fall on top of you. “Shit–”

He collapses onto you and your body braces for his impact, the weight of him foreign yet welcome. He’s wearing the cologne you love and you reach for his shirt to tug him closer so that he’s now properly laying on you. You sigh happily, wrapping your arms around Steve. “See, was that so hard?”

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.” Steve grumbles, but he situates himself so that he’s laying more comfortably on you and scoops you into his own arms as well. He rests his head against your chest and your fingers find their way into his hair, as they always seem to do.

Steve closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy your touch, for once not caring that the kids are just below the two of you in their fort. Normally he’s more reserved around you when they’re near, especially Dustin.

That kid never lets Steve catch a break when it comes to you.

But he’s exhausted and has spent the last week either crying or pretending that he’s someone he isn’t, so Steve indulges in your warmth and relishes in the way your fingers seem to unconsciously draw small circles on his back; he’s so fucking grateful that you exist.

You’re always there to catch him, to remind him of who he can be despite his continuous flaws.

The surprise movie night ends up being everything Steve needs. He laughs at Mike’s horrible jokes, shows El how to use the VHR, he argues with Max about whether peanut butter belongs with chocolate, Dustin throws popcorn at you when you kiss Steve’s cheek, and Lucas even asks him about basketball and if he has any advice for him once he gets to high school.

It’s the most fun Steve has had in a while, and he realizes why you spend so much time with these kids. They’re everything, really. Smart and fucking hilarious and easy to be around. They’re honest with him, they tell him he’s an idiot for not getting into college while in the same breath debating with him about if college is even worth it.

Plus, you litter Steve’s face with more kisses than usual tonight, which only brightens his mood further. You’ve been more affectionate with him lately, holding his hand more often and pressing your lips wherever you can. It’s as if he’s found some key, unlocking all the love you’ve stored within you.

Steve isn’t an idiot, he knows there’s more to it, so do you. However, rather than acknowledge it, you both choose to simply bask in it. It’s not time yet, bringing this into the light. It’s delicate, still forming into something that Steve is sure will be incredible.

For now, he allows his lips to skim across your face while the kids aren’t looking. They’ve been dying to do this ever since he’s known you, and the giggle you let out is more than enough for him.

–

Spring turns to summer and before Steve knows it, he’s graduating.

He rolls over in bed and stares at the ceiling. The Harrington household is quiet. His parents have gone on yet another business trip, his father had scoffed when Steve had asked if they’d be back in time for his ceremony.

“Why should we attend if you’re not going to do anything with that diploma?”

“Right,” Steve had scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed that he had even thought to ask his father to come. “I’m sorry.”

His mother, who had been quiet as they spoke, only stepped forward once her husband had left the room. She brought a hand to his face and tentatively stroked his cheek with her finger. “I’m proud of you, my beautiful boy.”

Steve had smiled at her, knowing that she meant well and yet heartbroken that she couldn’t voice this in front of his father. She smiled sadly at him, as if she sensed what he had been thinking, before following after her husband. As she always does.

The doorbell rings, effectively breaking Steve out of his momentary self pity. He looks at his alarm clock and frowns. It’s early in the morning, he doesn’t know who could be at the door at such an hour.

Sighing, he gets out of bed and makes his way downstairs angry at the world. He’s tired of growing up, his parents suck, he’s almost definitely skipping his graduation ceremony, and now he has to get out of bed to go answer the door.

He opens the door and when he sees that it’s you, his mood drastically improves. You’re dressed in a pretty lavender sundress, a departure from your usual t-shirts and shorts that Steve has come to associate as your summer uniform. By the time he manages to take his eyes off of you, he realizes too late that you’re holding flowers and shoving your way into his home.

“Ready to graduate?” You ask, carefully setting the flowers down on his kitchen table. “You can’t skip it if I’m here, ya know.”

Steve groans. “How did you even know I was going to skip?”

“Because you’re predictable and I enjoy making you do what’s best for you.” You’ve grabbed his hand and are dragging him towards his room. “Now, go find something nice to wear while I put your flowers in a vase.”

“But–”

You don’t give Steve any time to argue as you’ve already left the room to go and take care of the flowers. He lets out another groan, he knows he can’t argue his way out of this one. You’ve dressed up for a graduation, bought Steve flowers, and now he has to put on some stupid outfit to make a smile cross your pretty little face.

He settles on a simple white button down shirt and a pair of nice dress pants, and you return to his room as he’s struggling with the buttons. When you see him, you laugh with affection and walk over to him. “Here, let me see.”

Steve lets you button his shirt, your breath is warm against his chest as your fingers quickly secure the buttons into the place. He admires the cute frown on your face as you concentrate, and he allows his hands to come up to yours and slots your fingers together. You’re taken aback by the sudden affection.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a familiar blush on your face from his touch. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this.

“Nonthin’.” Steve says, though he lets go of one of your hands and places it on the small of your back as he always does. He uses the hand to push you closer and the other hand remains intertwined with yours. He stares down at you, he’s close enough to count every eyelash that dots along your pretty eyes. “Just admiring you.”

“Is this some ploy to distract me from your graduation?” Though you try to tease him, you’re weak and let out a soft sigh when Steve pulls you even closer, feeling his body against yours. He’s allowed himself to become bolder with you, and as if to prove this, he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses your brow. You exhale with a shaky breath, your resolve dwindles. “Honey…”

Steve chuckles at your reaction, revels in it. He hopes to one day memorize all the ways he can make you sigh his name and shiver against him. For now, however, he pulls away and finishes getting dressed. “I know, I know. Graduation time.”

The perfectly aimed sandal that you throw at him is enough to solidify to Steve that he is, truly, happy.

–

Dustin is the first one Steve sees in the bleachers, then Mike, and then El, before he realizes that the entire party has managed to make it to his graduation ceremony.

“You invited them?” He turns to you, somehow surprised that you would do such a simple and lovely thing.

“Of course I did.” You kiss his cheek and quickly fix his hair as you adjust his graduation cap. You’ve been fretting over his appearance ever since you left his house, and he hates how giddy he feels whenever you dote on him. “Now, go find your seat and don’t trip on the stage!”

You’re gone in a flash, leaving Steve alone as you go and join the kids in the bleachers with all the other friends and family in attendance. The school’s gym is packed, everyone has someone there for them to see them walk across the stage, and though Steve’s actual family isn’t here, he has you and the kids in the stands cheering for him.

Steve decides, then, that you and the kids are his true family.

The ceremony is long and boring, and Steve spends the entire time sneaking glances at you.

You’re attentive, nodding along to all the boring speeches made by teachers and clapping for every student’s name that is called. He sees you breakup a fight between Mike and Max over something, he guesses it’s probably something dumb, and he laughs when you switch seats with Max in the end.

As he watches you, Steve feels what he felt the first day he ever spoke to you when you almost hit his car with your bike. When he’d gotten out of his car and found you laying in the ditch, he felt what he feels now: a slow, all encompassing wave of sunlight.

He felt it when he drove you home the following week and you’d told him he wasn’t a bad person, and he felt it again when you’d spared him kindness at Jonathan’s while fighting the Demogorgon. Then, in front of the hospital’s vending machine, the sunlight turned into a fireplace within his chest when you’d giggled and told him you were friends.

Since then, the fire has only burned deeper within Steve. It burned when he’d gifted you that poster, when he had spent every day at your job just to be near you. It had burned Steve when you’d left him that summer, the sting of it unbearable as it seared his skin. Then it had dimmed, abandoned, until you came back again and reignited it once more.

When you whispered confessions to Steve in the dark, he felt it then. When you sacrificed your life to save his, leaving a scar on your rib cage that Steve can feel whenever he hugs you, he felt it then as well. The fire was there when you leaned against him, accepted the help he has always tried to provide for you, when he gave you a piggyback ride back inside Jonathan’s and tucked you into bed.

It all comes back to Steve in flashes.

Your promise to him to wait, to stay even though he couldn’t give you what you deserved, what you needed. The gentleness of your promise and the framed photo of him and Dustin that now sits proudly on his bedside table. The surprise movie nights, how you call him “honey” and he calls you “angel”.

It’s always been there.

The warmth had started back before Steve even knew what warmth was, when he first saw you. He had been thirteen and you had been twelve.

Now, at almost seventeen and eighteen, you’re cheering for Steve’s name as it’s called upon the stage and he finally knows what this feeling is. Steve accepts his diploma and shakes hands with his principal and he swears he can hear your voice, screaming his name with pure joy, above everyone else’s; it’s as if his body is attuned to yours.

This, Steve knows, is love.

–

The school year ends and summer break begins.

There’s a new mall in Hawkins, one that’s big and flashy and opens just in time for summer vacation. Dustin spends entire days there with the party before he reluctantly leaves for Camp Know Where. You miss your brother dearly, but you know the camp is good for him.

When you find out that Jonathan and Nancy have become interns at the Hawkins Post, you scream and throw yourself into their arms, incredibly proud of them, yet you’re sad as well. You didn’t realize that you’d be spending your last summer before senior year apart from your best friend, though you know he’s always dreamed of showcasing his photography.

It’s bittersweet, but when Steve gets a job at the new mall, the free ice cream that you get makes up for it.

Plus, his uniform for Scoops Ahoy doesn’t hurt.

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” Steve threatens you, horribly self conscious with how short his shorts are. You made him promise to show you the uniform, but now he’s seriously regretting it as you bite your lip; he sees the laugh before it comes. “I mean it! No laughing, it’s already bad enough that I have to work–”

He’s cut off by your loud, smug laugh. It overtakes your entire body as you hunch over, gasping for breath as you wheeze out, “You look great!”

Steve hides behind the ice cream counter, absolutely mortified. Here he is, being laughed at by the girl he’s so fucking in love with, as he wears a stupid sailor hat and a god damn ascot.

In between your laughs, you see the despair on Steve’s face and you try to calm down. “Okay, I’m sorry,” you wipe tears from your eyes, still slightly giggling. “It’s just… You look so adorable in that uniform!”

Immediately Steve straightens his back and crosses his arms, trying to look more dignified. “One, never call a man adorable. That’s just offensive. Two, I will not get out from behind this counter until you stop giggling at me.”

“Who are we giggling at?” An unfamiliar girl now appears, wearing the exact same uniform that Steve is, and when she sees you standing in front of the teen, she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. “Henderson with Harrington?”

She knows your name, and you quickly wrack your head to try and figure out why she looks so familiar. At the very least, you know she has to be a grade below you, though you can’t quite place her, which you feel bad about. She looks kind.

“Yes, Henderson with Harrington.” You extend your hand out for the girl to shake. “I’m Y/N, though I guess you already knew that.”

“Robin Buckley,” she accepts your handshake, giving you an interested smile. She already seems to like you, which you’re relieved by.

Steve watches this interaction with pure dread. He had met Robin a few days ago during his interview for the job, and she’s made his life a living hell of torment and teasing ever since. Now, with you two meeting, he knows that you’ll only add onto Robin’s incredibly quick wit. “Oh, please don’t become friends.”

“Too late.” You wink at Robin. “Wanna check out this insanely large mall together?”

Robin gasps. “It’d be my pleasure.” She hops over the counter, completely bypassing the door that lets you out, and loops her arm through yours. “Later, dingus!”

“Bye, Steve!”

He stands there, defeated, as you and Robin giggle together while you leave. It only took thirty seconds before you abandoned him like some traitor. Sighing, he picks up a rag and starts wiping down the tables in the ice cream shop.

From the corner of his eye he can see you and Robin running around the mall. You’re giggling as you chase after the girl, your hair is tied in a loose ponytail and one of the straps on your overalls has slid down your arm. You look happy, bright and alive, far from the girl Steve remembers from last winter.

It takes Steve’s breath away.

Then, as if you can sense his eyes on you, you turn. Your eyes connect, your cheeks are flushed from running and you’re breathless as you smile at him. Steve returns your smile, winks, and he can almost hear your giggle.

You finally look away, going back to chasing after Robin as the two of you retreat further into the mall, and as your figure fades in the distance, there’s only one thing on Steve’s mind.

I can’t wait to make her mine.

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helen-with-an-a · 6 months

Text

The object that stood in the way of a World Cup

Hi. So this is going to be a 2 part (maybe 3 part) story that I've had floating in my head for a while now.

It's angsty - I do want it to end with a fluffy end, but it's getting a little too long to be 1 thing ahahaha. Anyways.

Ona Batlle x Reader

TW: Angst, no direct mention of bad mental health, but it's clear R ain't ok.

Word count: 3.3k

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue

Flashbacks are written in Italics; for anyone not aware of the British school system GCSEs you take at 16 (you have 3 or 4 choice subjects and 5 or 6 compulsory subjects) and A-levels you take at 18 (you choose 3 or 4 subjects)

Description: R sees Ona again for the first time since their breakup

This is what you had been waiting for. All summer. All year. Hell, probably all your life. The World Cup Final. And the thought absolutely terrified you.

Your first thought after the final whistle wasn’t one of joy or happiness. You weren’t elated like Lessi or Tooney who barrelled into you and squeezed you so tight it hurt. You weren’t jumping for joy like Gee, Kiera and Lucy who manhandled you into the middle of their huddle. You weren’t screaming so loud your voice went hoarse like Hempo and Es. You weren’t standing in disbelief like Mearps and Millie.

Your first thought was of your ex- girlfriend, friend-with-benefits, situationship, Ona. Your first thought was of Ona. Spain had won against Sweden yesterday. And now you had won against Australia. The last time you had seen her was not a fun experience for you. Screaming. Tears. Spiteful words she didn’t mean. But that was the last time you spoke to her. It had been a long 8 months without her.

You weren’t quite sure what you were to each other when you were both at United. You had met on her first day. You were meant to be her buddy. The management had asked around during pre-season if anyone spoke any Spanish. You had done it at A-level, so you stuck your hand up. Barcelona was The Dream for you, so you had tailored your studies at school as much as you could to help you achieve it – taking Spanish at GCSE and A-level and continuing to watch Spanish shows and reading books to help you maintain it. You weren’t fluent but you knew enough that it would help Ona feel more comfortable. And you clearly had.

After winning the first derby of the season, the team had gone for drinks. Alcohol flowed, inhibitions were lost, and boundaries were blurred as Ona ended up in your bed. You had thought it would be a one-time thing. A drunken mistake that wasn’t much of a mistake to you. And it was … until it wasn’t. The next time it happened was at your birthday. And then her birthday. And then the end of the season. And then alcohol wasn’t a factor in taking you both to bed. She was suddenly all around you. Her jumpers were in your wardrobe. Her football boots were by the door. Her stuff was in the shower. Her snacks were in the cupboard. You had never spoken about what you were, but you drove her to training, she cooked you her mother's dishes, you snuggled into her side when watch your show, she slept in your bed every night.

And then it all came crashing down.

November 2022

You knew you needed to tell her as soon as possible. You wanted to tell her the news that had you pouncing on her the moment she stepped through the door. You were happy and giddy and so, so excited. You hadn’t thought that she wouldn’t be all of those things for you. You had made no secret that Barcelona was your dream. Everyone know that if Barcelona came knocking you would be gone without a doubt in your mind. You had received a phone call from your manager that afternoon.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you free to talk? There’s an offer for you.” Paul said down the phone. He sounded composed but happy, it intrigued you.

“Yeh, I’m free. What’s the offer? It’s mid-season though and I’m out of contract in the summer, why are they wanting to talk now?” You were questioning but not closed off. You knew joining a team mid-season would be hard but not impossible.

“Well… it’s Barca. They’ve but in an offer for you.” You were in complete shock. Barca wanted you. You were going to play for Barcelona. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. You screamed. It was the only thing you could think of. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?” Paul laughed. He knew Barca was the dream. He’d already written up the acceptance email.

“Oh my god! Of course it’s a bloody yes. I’m gonna play for Barcelona” You shouted.

“They want you to sign on the first day of the January signing window. It’ll be announced just after El Clásico. Is that ok with you? It gives you a couple of months to get everything sorted. And since United haven’t played in the Champions League, you aren’t cup tied or anything.”

You were floating on a cloud of happiness when the door clicked open. Ona was back from having a ‘Spanish Day’ with all the Spaniards living in Manchester. She had barely made it into the living room when you jumped her. Lips trailing everywhere you could reach. She laughed that gorgeous sound as you shoved her gently to the bedroom, her coat slipping off as you went.

You lay with your head against the pillows, hair fanned out to the side. You were sweaty and out of breath in the best way. Ona collapsed down next to you, her arms quickly wrapping around your waist.

“I had a phone call today.” You said nonchalantly. “From Paul,” you added as you tucked the duvet around the both of you. “There’s been an offer for me in the January window”. She looked at you expectantly. “Oni, Voy a jugar para el Barcelona” you breathed out. She stiffened in your arms.

“Qué quieres decir, amor?” She choked out after a few moments of silence, sitting up and moving away from you. You knew she wanted to go back to Spain, go back to Barca … but this was not the reaction you were expecting.

“Paul phoned. They’ve put in an offer for me for the January window. I’m signing on the 1st with it being announced after El Clásico.” You stated the facts. The simple outline of the facts that made you feel so, so happy.

“Are we not going to talk about this? You can’t leave in the middle of the season. United need you. We need you…. I need you, amor” She started off loud, angry, and upset, but by the end of the sentence it was barely a whisper. You had never seen Ona so… you could describe the look on her face. The way her body seemed slumped over in sadness.

“Hey… hey. No, don’t think like that. I’m here until the break. We’ve got a month or so. Everything will be fine, Oni. You are well aware that Barcelona is only a few hours on a plane. Everything will be fine!” She seemed to accept your comforting words.

But everything wasn’t fine.

There was a shift in the relationship arrangement whatever this was. Fewer jumpers were in your wardrobe. When she ran out of body wash, she didn’t replace it with a new bottle. Less of her snacks were added to your weekly shopping list. You still drove her to training but her music no longer blasted out of the speakers. She still cooked for you but there were never leftovers for the next day. She still slept in your bed, but she held onto your arm rather than curling up on top of you.

And then it was the Christmas break. Your last day at United. You weren’t sad to be leaving the club. But you were sad to be leaving the people. Of course, you knew you would see some of them during the international windows and whenever you came home but it wasn’t the same. Once again, the alcohol in your system led you to be on top of Ona. The first time you had done anything since you told her about your move. Something felt different this time. She was leaving to go back to Spain the following morning and you wouldn’t see her again before you left.

You woke up with a slight headache, but that wasn’t what pulled you from your sleep. Catalan came drifting across the flat. Ona was awake, and by the temperature of the bed, she had been for a while.

“Hey. Qué ocurre? Qué pasó?” She was pacing the living room, muttering away to herself. “Oni? Hey, estás bien?” She wasn’t paying any attention to you. “Ona”. Your hands rested on her shoulders, halting her scattered movements.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. You jumped at the harshness in her tone.

“What’s wrong, Oni?” You asked again.

“I can’t do this.” She answered back. Her tone just as sharp. You knew what she was implying but you hoped you were wrong.

“This being…?” You trailed off.

“Us.” She stated simply. You waited a heartbeat, hoping she would realise you would do anything for her.

“It’s not like there was really an ‘us’ to begin with!” She spat at you. You felt your heart begin to splitter into a thousand pieces. Ona was looking for an argument. She was terrified you’d leave her behind at Manchester without a second look. Ona was hopelessly in love with you. She had been for some time. It wasn’t fast or scary. It was subtle and peaceful. One day she had woken up next to you and she knew it was you. It would always be you. But she didn’t know if she was yours. You were never a tactile person but with Ona, you always had some form of body contact. She thought it little of it. She was Spanish after all, touching your friends was fairly normal – she didn’t realise that you didn’t hug Lessi or Tooney unless they forced themselves at you. She didn’t consider how you were quick to shake off Mary or Maya’s arms. To you, and to everyone else but Ona, it was really obvious that she was yours and you were hers. You just hadn’t had the ‘what are we’ conversation yet. She was also jealous. Barca wanted you. Her home wanted you. Not her. Never mind that her agents had mentioned that Barca wanted her in the summer when she was out of contract. Barca offered money for you. Barca wanted you so badly that they offered a record-breaking fee in the middle of a season. She was scared, angry and jealous. How was she to know that you rarely argued back with someone? How was she to know that your easy-going nature was a result of growing up in a household where shouting was the norm? How was she to know that your mild-mannered temperament was due to your habit of placating your family to stop the noise? You had never told her that particular part of your childhood.

So, she hit you where she knew it would hurt the most, hoping to get a reaction out of you. “Eres sólo un polvo rápido. Fácil. Nada mas para mi. Something to pass the time. I don’t even know why Barca want you, honestly. No eres lo suficientemente buena.” She waited for a reply, but none came. She waited for you to lash out at her. Snap. Do something to make this … breakup? … easier. She wanted to be able to hate you in the same way she was trying to make you hate her. She did the second most painful thing she could think of. She spun on her heels and marched out the door.

You knew she was lying… you think. You hoped she was lying. You knew Ona could get mean when she was upset or scared. You had witnessed it after a particularly bad game – her harshness, her biting words. But she had said those words with such conviction, and you couldn’t think of a reason as to why she would be scared or upset. It had been a wonderful night. Laughter, soft touches exactly where you needed them, and love. You could feel the love between the two of you. Every lingering touch, every passionate kiss, ever whispered word. Everything was done with love, for the pure enjoyment of the other. Everything was perfect.

You're just a quick fuck. Easy. Nothing more to me. Was that all you were to her? Did the late nights mean nothing to her? Did the secrets you whispered into her hair mean anything? Were all the promises she made you lies? Was everything she ever said to you just so she could get her regular fix? Did she really think you weren’t good enough for Barcelona? She knew her opinion of you and your football meant a lot to you. Was every reassurance that you were good enough for the starting XI mean nothing? Was every calming word when you were waiting for Sarina’s call false? Did she genuinely think that you weren’t good enough?

You were in a daze all throughout Christmas. Seeing you family was fun, but you couldn’t shake the clouds in your mind. When you met with the some of the Lionesses in Manchester in between Christmas and New Year, everyone could tell something was wrong. You were normally on the quieter side, preferring to listen rather than speak. But you didn’t really do either. You were just there; not contributing to conversations or laughing along like you usually would. Something was wrong but no one knew what. And then you were on a plane, staring out the window as you watched Spain get closer and closer. You had never been to Spain outside of camps and tournaments. Ona had promised to take you there, to show you Barcelona, to show you her home. But you had to make it your home without her by your side.

And now you were about to play Ona in a World Cup Final.

Lucy knew something was eating at you in the days leading up to the final. She had phoned Leah to come to the hotel to cheer the whole team up and boost morale. It had worked for the other girls but not you. Kiera phoned Alexia as well. But the comforting words had washed straight over you. Everyone thought that it was because you were facing the Barca girls. No one in Barcelona knew of your history with Ona beyond that of teammates at United. If she was ever in town for a quick break, you always, miraculously, had other plans you couldn’t get out of. They didn’t know you lied and hid yourself away in your flat – moving your car a few streets along and leaving your phone off so the location couldn’t be tracked. You’d even gone so far as to phone up Hayley Raso in Madrid to ask if you could come visit her when you found out Ona would be at a team bonding event due to her free schedule coinciding with game-less weekend for Barca. Hayley was a little confused, but you were close enough friends from your time at Manchester that she didn’t question it.

Ona’s words had stayed with you. Every time you failed gave the ball away, passed a too-wide cross, or missed a shot on goal, her words echoed in your mind. You’re not good enough. The venom lacing her tone permeated your brain. You pushed yourself hard then ever before. You went for runs before training to improve your stamina, stayed late to practice free kicks and penalties. You lifted heavier weights and broke your old PBs in the gym. You were eating correctly and always seemed cheery enough, so no one really questioned it. Slowly the muscles started to grow. You were always on the stockier side, the muscles you had slowly built up helping you with your defence. But now you were really built. Your muscles were obvious, even under looser fitting clothes. Not that you really wore loose clothes anymore. At first, it was because everyone on the team, everyone in Barcelona, looked good. Their styles were just rubbing off on you, you had justified to yourself. But eventually, the tops became tighter and shorter. The trousers became low rise, and the hemlines became higher. The Barca Glow Up (and Lotte had coined it) was definitely real. You told yourself it was for you. The clothes you were wearing, the muscles you liked to show off, was because you were proud of them. Which you were. But you couldn’t lie to yourself for long. The Barca media frequently posted game day fits. You knew Ona followed Barca. You knew you would appear on her timeline. Yes, you were a little more tired than you used to be. But that was fine. You didn’t tell anyone the words that rattled around in your head when you were alone. You were fine. Everything was fine. You were playing the best football of your life at Barca. You were a key part of their defence, making your way into the Starting XI quickly and constantly proving your worth in every game.

You were fine. Ok, you hadn’t had sex, or even looked at another girl, since Ona arriving in Spain. Ok, you had to have some form of noise constantly in the background because every time there was silence your thoughts drifted back to Manchester. Ok, you couldn’t be around Ingrid and Mapi or anyone else in a relationship for too long otherwise you might start crying. Ok, you were still very much broken hearted. But you were fine. You weren’t necessarily good, but you were fine

The morning of the final, you were quiet. But everyone was, even Tooney. The buzz of anticipation. The air of expectation. Everyone was doing their own pre-match routine. You had followed yours to the letter. A gentle walk alone this morning followed by breakfast. A full bottle of water on the coach to the stadium. Pitch inspection with Less and Tooney. Warm up with Lucy and Millie. Hair slicked into a bun. A spray of perfume and into the tunnel to walk out.

She was standing just a head of you. Perfect. Breath-taking. Even with her game face on and her concentration as Irene spoke to her, you could see the usual kindness in her features. Those soft warm eyes that you had been lost in far too often. The freckles that littered her skin that you had traced and played dot-to-dot with as you laughed sleepless nights away. The braid that you used to tug on to get her attention before a match that always made her smile and break her focus. You knew you were still desperately in love with her. You shook your head. You couldn’t let her get to you. Not now. Your walls went back up as you pushed all thoughts from her mind. She wasn’t your Oni – even though you knew in your heart she would always be that to you –, she was the object that stood in your way of a World Cup. As Jess and Alex pulled your attention away from the Spanish players, you missed her looking at you.

She knew you had more muscle than before but seeing you in the flesh was something else. Your eyes that have the ability to truly look at a person, looked a little more tired than she was used to. The genuine smiled that was a defining feature for you was replaced with a hard line and a smirk every now and again. She thinks you have had a haircut since being in Barca – your bun wasn’t as big as it used to be in Manchester. She wanted nothing more than to trace her fingers gently over the new scar just above your eyebrow. She knew exactly how you got it. She watched every game of yours, live if she could – on repeat if she couldn’t. You had collided with a player during Chelsea Champions League match. She had been so terrified she almost picked up the phone to call you several times. She did play a little more brutally the next time she faced Chelsea. She had been carded after she left a particularly nasty tackle on the girl that had hurt you. She didn’t know that you also watched all of her games. She didn’t know that you also wanted to phone her after that match but was so scared of her rejection. But right now, you weren’t her Amor – even though you would always be that to her –, you were the object that stood in her way of a World Cup.

Part 2 will probably be out fairly quickly as a lot of it is already written but yeh

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso soccer #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #fc barcelona #manchester united #man utd #man utd women

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vivwritesfics · 11 months

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The Bad Luck Boy

This is the story of the bad luck boy and the two people he loved.

2.3K

LeStappen x reader

This is the story of the Bad Luck Boy.

The Bad Luck Boy was a nice boy. He was polite and sweet, making those around him smile.

The Bad Luck Boy was a hard working boy. His career was his everything. Well, almost his everything.

The Bad Luck Boy was a handsome boy. Everybody knew it, including his teammate and his biggest rival.

Y/N L/N had known the Bad Luck Boy since her karting days. They raced each other, pushing each other off the track. Together, they moved into Formula Three. Together, they moved into Formula 2. When Charles won the F2 championship, he graduated up into Formula One, while Y/N was still stuck in F2.

She herself won the championship in 2018 and, by 2019, she was racing alongside Kimi Räikkönen in Alfa Romeo Racing. Two years later, after proving herself and scoring a podium in the Alfa Romeo car, Y/N L/N was offered the second seat in Ferrari.

When they were kids, Y/N and the Bad Luck Boy raced in karts alongside Max Emilian Verstappen. Max had always been an aggressive driver, but Y/N loved the challenge. Unlike with Charles, she didn't move through her career with him, instead following in his footsteps. When Y/N moved up into F1, Max was already racing at the front of the grid; she only really got to race against him when he pitted.

The Bad Luck Boy loved his job. His job treated him like shit, though. Y/N herself struggled weekend after weekend in the SF-23, but there was nothing worse than watching the Bad Luck Boy struggle in it.

The SF-23 got Y/N around the track at least in seventh, but the Bad Luck Boy was barely making it around the track. There was one race where Y/N didn't even make it onto the track, unable to start because of the car. But watching Charles wrestle with it, hearing him on the radio, was painful enough.

The Bad Luck Boy had one thing going for him. He was in love. Better than that, he was in love with two people. His teammate and his rival.

Yes, the Bad Luck Boy had some good luck. He loved two people and those two people loved him. But it wasn't without its complications.

Y/N stood beside Max as he drank his can of Red Bull, further down the paddock, Charles was completing an interview. "Shouldn't you be down there with him?" Max asked, offering her a sip of his drink.

Y/N shook her head, refusing the drink. "Unless we're doing our challenges or media duties, I'm staying away from him," she answered him. "I can't be shouting his name across the paddock or saving him seats for the drivers parade." Her tone was somewhat bitter as she kept her eyes on the pavement.

Letting out a laugh, Max finished his drink. "Oh, come on. It's not that mad. You're standing with me now, and nothings happening."

"Because I'm not your teammate, Max. Nobody thinks there's anything going on between us, but also because they're convinced I'm trying my absolute hardest to sleep with Charles. I've seen the edits of the two of you, grabbing each others waists with blushing smiles, but I don't get to do that. If I go near Charles, I'll be called a slut and accused of trying to distract him from the race. You don't understand how badly I want to kiss the both of you but I can't."

"Kiss me, then," answered Max.

Y/N stared up at him, her eyebrows furrowed. "All this winning has gone to your head because you're losing it," he said and shook her head.

"No, I'm serious. If you kiss me and everybody thinks we're going steady, they'll leave you alone about Charles."

"And then I'll be accused of sleeping with you because you're winning."

It really was a complicated situation. Y/N could be seen to be close with Max, but nobody thought they were romantically involved. But they were wrong and Y/N loved Max more than anything.

But she also loved Charles. Her teammate. The man she was being accused of sleeping with. Which wasn't strictly a lie. But it was more than just sleeping with him, she was in love with him too.

Max let out a sigh, but he placed his arm around her, anyway. "I'll blow you a kiss when I lap you later," he said and walked away.

Their relationship was rather... depressing. They could only be together when they were alone and that was heart breaking enough. Y/N watched Max walk away, walk back to the Red Bull hospitality unit.

Letting out a breath, she strode forward, walking towards her teammate. She passed him, and Charles' eyes moved across from the interviewer, looking at her. Y/N smiled, a smile that was surely captured by cameras, and continued on, making her way towards her drivers room.

As soon as Y/N got into her drivers room, she threw herself down onto the sofa.

Y/N loved her job, she loved being a driver. But it was getting harder and harder. If driving in the SF-23 wasn't bad enough, she had to avoid one of her boyfriends at all cost. One of them she could only briefly talk to. It really fucking hurt.

***

For once the Bad Luck Boy was having some good luck. He was at the front of the grid, fighting with Max and Lando.

Y/N, though? She was struggling.

The car wasn't handling well. She'd had an okay qualifying the day before, landing her in P5. After a good start she'd ended up in P3, driving with her boyfriends. If things kept up like this, they'd all be on the podium together.

But then Y/N had ended up with a shit pit stop. They'd called her in without having the tires ready and completely fucked up her race.

Y/N managed to complete two laps after that until the car began to malfunction. The hydraulics failed and she ended up in the wall.

Nothing serious, just a lot of frustration. "Fuck, shit, fuck!" Y/N shouted into the radio as she climbed out of her car.

And then it was Charles' turn. In the next race he had engine failure.

And then Y/N had engine failure.

All of that, on top of keeping their relationship a secret, Y/N was struggling. She was really, really struggling.

It was a whispered secret, something she said to Max and Charles in the late hours of the morning, when all three of them were half asleep.

While Charles and Max slept somewhat soundly, with Charles in the middle (most of the time. It was either him or Y/N. Max insisted on sleeping to the outside of the bed, closest to the door), Y/N thought. She thought a lot, about their relationship, about whether the stress was really worth it.

As soon as these thoughts came, they left. Y/N had shaken them away by the time she woke up.

She hoped they didn't know anything, but, of course, they did. Max and Charles were all too aware. They knew exactly how she was feeling, and it hurt.

Max wanted to say something, he wanted to talk to her, but Charles wouldn't. "Max, she loves us," he said. "She's with us, and she loves us."

And, of course, Y/N really did love them. She still does. But she'd been pulling away.

Where they'd used to spend all weekend every weekend together, Y/N was suddenly sleeping in her own room without the boys snuggled up against her.

The turning point was the Mexican grand prix. The race was going well; Max was P1, with Charles and Y/N racing close behind. When all three of them managed to cross the finish line, they were ecstatic. Maybe the Bad Luck Boy didn't have that much bad luck after all.

They couldn't keep their smiles from their faces as they spray the champagne over each other. It was something of an amazing night for the three of them. They celebrated and spent the evening together, sharing a bed and each other.

But then things started going down hill again.

Y/N used to stay in Monaco. She used to spend all of her time between races going between Max's apartment and Charles'. But lately she'd been returning to her own home in Switzerland.

Max was at a breaking point. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't sit around feeling anxious because of how distant his girlfriend was being. Charles felt the same, which was somewhat comforting. They needed to do something, they needed to speak to her.

Max was going to do it, Max was going to speak to her, but Charles wouldn't let him. As much as he tried not to be, Max was aggressive, and Charles couldn't see things ending well if he was the one to speak.

So, Charles took the reins. He attempted to cook them dinner (with Max and Y/N having to help a lot), and sat her down at the table.

Dinner was peaceful. It wasn't how things used to be between them, but it was peaceful. Still, it didn't feel as though Y/N was all there, and that left a horrible feeling in the pit of Max's stomach.

After dinner, Max began clearing things away as Charles took a hold of Y/N's hands. They were soft in his own, and he ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "You know Max and I love you, right?" He asked, staring into her eyes with his lovely green ones. "You know that Max and I would do anything for you, right?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Y/N nodded her head. She knew. Her boys were amazing, the most amazing people she knew.

"Then tell us what's going on, please."

She sucked in a deep breath and pulled her gaze away from Charles. "I love the two of you," she said. "But I hate having to hide us. I hate the comments I get whenever I'm pictured with either one of you. I hate that I can't kiss either of you when any of us end up on the podium. I hate that we can't go on traditional dates and we can't hold hands when we're walking through the paddock," she admitted.

Nodding his head, Charles leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I understand, chérie. Maybe we should think about coming out with our relationship publicly."

As Y/N and Charles had been speaking, Max had been busy doing the dishes. He loved mundane little things like this, something he didn't often do. As he listened, he shook his head. That wasn't the whole issue, not at all. It might have been a large part of it, but Max knew it wasn't the whole story.

With the towel over his shoulder, he walked into the room and leaned against the door. "Spit it out," he said to his girlfriend, his voice with a particular edge. Charles sent a glare in his direction.

"Fine," Y/N said shortly and let out a huff. "I love driving for Ferrari, but the car is dogshit. Charles, imagine how many more times we could have joined Max on the podium this year if the car wasn't a pile of crap. We could have actually beaten him! The car, with everything else I listed, has pushed me to my breaking point," she whispered and pressed Charles' hand to her forehead.

Max let out a laugh. The bastard actually laughed! He pushed away from the wall and walked over to his partners. "Schat, you're ridiculous," he said and pulled Charles hand away. "I want nothing more than to kiss you when I'm on the podium. Charlie and I want to take you out on dates and hold your hand. If we were doing that, would you feel better about how terrible the SF-23 is?"

Y/N nodded her head. "Can someone please kiss me?"

The three of them attended the next grand prix together. They walked through the paddock, hand in hand in hand. Everybody seemed to be silent as they came past. Cameras flashed, but they didn't care.

Walking past the Red Bull hospitality unit, Y/N and Charles kissed Max goodbye and kept going, on to the Ferrari hospitality.

The gossip surrounding the three of them went on for weeks until Y/N, Max and Charles posted their announcements.

maxverstappen1

liked by username, charles_leclerc, y/nl/n95 and 199,453 others

maxverstappen1 She's a princess

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danielricciardo finally! Sick of pretending I don't know y/nl/n95 but you didn't know? danielricciardo didn't I?

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen 1, y/nl/n95 and 188,329 others

charles_leclerc my kind of race weekend

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pierregasley congratulations to you three! y/nl/n95 thanks pierrrrre gasllllley! (i officially prefer you to daniel) danielricciardo hey!

y/nl/n95

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y/nl/n95 losers

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maxverstappen1 that's not very nice charles_leclerc but she won't share the moments where she games with us y/nl/n95 i don't game because I'm not (guess what) a loser like you two

By the end of this story you would have realised that the Bad Luck Boy wasn't so unlucky after all. He had two people who loved him more than anything and, finally, he could show the world he loved them.

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minkyungseokie · 6 months

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When Nothing Goes Right | LS2

synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be

warnings; none

note; requested

note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother

Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Logan Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.

Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.

Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.

Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.

•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•

Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.

As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"

Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.

Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.

"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.

She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.

It wasn't hard.

She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.

The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.

The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.

Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.

"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed

Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.

“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.

“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.

•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•

Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.

Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.

“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.

Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.

“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.

Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.

He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.

Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.

“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That��s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”

“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.

James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”

“But—“

“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.

Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Now let’s go.”

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #logan sargeant x reader #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #ls2 fic #ls2 fluff #williams formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fluff #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #formula one imagine

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ilovebuckers5 · 8 months

Text

·:*¨༺ Vacation ༻¨*:·

paige bueckers x reader

summary - you take paige and her team to a lakeside cabin for a vacation

warnings:

-smut

-minors dni

authors note - this is only my second time writing smut so don't judge if it's bad or something

Qadence made the final shot in the last 2 seconds and just like that, the uconn women's basketball team won another game. i immediately rose from my seat and cheered loudly.

my eyes switched from the score board to qadence to paige faster than ever. as i looked down at the blonde from the bleachers i saw that she already looking at me.

me and paige had been dating for 3 months now but it felt like i had know her my entire life. her blue eyes stared at me while a smile was plastered on her pretty face. even sweaty and panting, she is the most beautiful girl i've ever layed my eyes on.

the entire team walked around the bleachers high fiving fans and signing sweatshirts. instead of rushing down the steps to give my girlfriend my attention, i watched from atop and waited until the team was back in the locker room. paige kept glancing at me with a confused look as she took photos with her fans and all i did was smirk back at her.

after the crowd had settled down a bit i pushed through a couple groups of people and went straight around all the security to get to the team.

my friendship with the entire team was more popular now that me and paige were together. At first there were a couple pictures of me hugging caroline and aubrey but it quickly escalated to things like pictures of me and paige kissing and videos of after game celebrations (mainly posted by azzi).

this time no one saw me rushing to the lockers so no new pictures for a couple days hopefully. as i made my way to the girls i was trying to think of how to celebrate this win. it was a 34 point difference so it felt like just going out for drinks was underwhelming.

i walked through the opening to see the group of girls jumping around and squealing while also getting changed. my eyes quickly found paige and stuck as i walked up to her. i couldn't help but place a kiss on her lips. she gasped under her breath at me being so bold and swift but she quickly relaxed and kissed back. i pulled away slowly and pulled her back into a hug, wrapping my arms around her back.

"you did so good baby"

she laughed a little and dug her nose in between my neck and ear to hide her red face. usually me and paige wouldn't do a lot of public kisses and flirting but i physically couldn't resist from smashing my lips against hers.

the entire team pretended to ignore us and kept on getting their clothes changed. finally i pulled away and turned around to find a mirror to make sure my lipstick wasn't smudged.

after the team got changed and were ready to leave i looked around suspiciously before grabbing paige's hand and rushing out of the doors into the parking lot. my hand was glued to hers for the rest of the night.

paige laughed as i practically dragged her out of the locker room. a couple laughs left both of ours mouths once we actually got outside and realized it was raining.(did i bring her out there to see her with wet hair? yes i did)

"i have a surprise for you paige."

the blondes eyebrows furrowed inwards as she tilted her head to the side. i had a large smile plastered on my face. our eyes were locked together, almost having a conversation without speaking.

without hesitation paige placed her hands on my hips and pressed me against her car door and shaheed her lips against mine. a quick groan left my mouth at her touch. her hands roamed at my sides "what was that surprise huh?"

i slowly reached into my purse and pulled out a business card that had the address for a lakeside cabin that was luckily only a couple hours away.

"what? how did you-"

i cut her excitement off quickly.

"i have my ways"

i turned my head around to hide my smirk. she aggressively pushed her body against mine, pulling me into a tight hug. paige had been talking about this cabin for the past three weeks so i took this ein as an opportunity to take her there. this was the first time she got all giddy and truly giggly around me since her birthday party. i laughed at her embrace before pulling her arms off of me.

"ok we have to keep this a secret from the team be wise if they hear they will-"

"want to come with?"

i hear a familiar voice come from my right ear. There Azzi was standing with almost the entire team next to her. they heard everything so i guess they were coming with to.

a couple hours later chaos struck. we were all back at the house and everyone was packing as if we were staying for three years. but i won't leave out the fact that i did pack 15 different outfits for a 6 day trip. instead of packing and stressing in silence i played some dominic fike just to lighten the mood. i sat down on the couch scrolling on instagram waiting for another girl to ask where shoes were.

while i was zoned out on a rampage that someone made about paige (speak of the devil) she snuck up behind me and layed a couple of kisses along my neck.

"what're you looking at huh?"

my fingers quickly switched off of instagram to my homescreen. my hands went sweaty along with my forehead.

"nothing."

i sah without looking back at paige. she walked around the arm of the couch and sat down next to me. her hands made their way to my thigh and began to run up and under my shorts. i gently but down my lip, still trying to not look at paige's icy blue eyes to prevent myself from folding. paige leaned in close tto my ear.

"how long do you stalk those little....accounts?"

she whispered in my ear. my heart stuttered, even though she was my girlfriend and not my crush i always found myself getting nervous when her husky voice was let out. i'm positive she was doing that on purpose. i let out a stifled sigh and end the tension by standing up.

"was that...nika calling for me? hold on i'll be right back i think uhm nika needs me over there"

i chuckle softly and try to play it off like i wasnt soaked right now. as i rushed down the hallway into nikas room, i could see out the corner of my eye that paige was staring at my ass. a wave of redness came over my face once i caught her. i step into nikas room and shut the door quickly before giving up and letting gravity pull me down to the end of her bed.

after staying in nikas room for a little while and watching her frantically pack, everyone was done packing and ready to get on the road. it was around 4 by now so we would probably get to the cabin later at night since it was a whole 3 hours away.

all the girls got into their assigned cars. aubrey,caroline,me,paige,azzi, inês, jana, and ice were in one mini van while amari,nika,qadence,kk, ayanna, ashlynn, and aaliyah were in another.

the hours went by quickly with the right amount of music and arguments on breakfast foods. next thing you know we were at the cabin. the air was fresher than on campus. it was just us girls there. no other strangers no other people. this was the only group of girls that got each-other and knew almost every detail about each-others lives. we all felt extremely comfortable with each-other. once we got to the destination and parked and all that other stuff, everyone claimed rooms and fell asleep quickly.

i attempted to go to sleep in my own bed but it felt weird without paige. i gently slipped on a pair of socks and snuck over into paige's room. trying not to wake her up, i slipped under her arms becoming the little spoon for the rest of the night.

the next morning the first thing i noticed when my eyes actually started to open was the sun peering through the curtains of a huge window. i rubbed my eyes open and stretched my arms out slowly. the first thing i did. was gena my phone to check the time and my expression switched quickly when i read the time.

"11 am what the fuck!"

i stood up and darted across the room, through the hallway, and to the main living room that was next to the kitchen. the smell of pancake batter and bacon lingered in the air. i looked around and saw everyone sitting around just talking. plates were scattered across the tables and counters.

"thank you guys for waking me up!"

a sarcastic tone "accidentally" slips out of my words. still irritated, i sat myself down on the couch and layed my head back. i noticed a presence behind me and as i was about to be pissy at whoever was behind me, paige's hands began rubbing my shoulders and collarbones.

i let my head rest further back just enough to graze her stomach. she looked down at me with her icy blue eyes and smiled softly. how could i stay pissed when she kept piercing me with those godamn eyes.

she walked over to sit down next to me and her hand almost immediately was glued to my thigh. her thumb rubbed back and forth over my skin that was peeking through my pajama shorts.

"can we go swimming today baby?"

i said turning my head to face hers and leaning in closer to her ear.

"of course we can"

paige leaned on my shoulder while her hands wrapped around my waist. just as my eyes were closing, caroline popped up infront of me holding a plate with pancakes and bacon on it. without speaking, i give caroline a thank you look and take the plate.

finally i slipped into my bathroom and put on a two piece bikini that was a pale pink color. i let my hair out of the recked ponytail it was in. and throw in some dry shampoo before grabbing the sunscreen and heading outside.

outside there were a couple chairs that one of the girls set out the night before. i set my sunscreen and towel on a red chair and dipped my feet in the water slowly. before i could even get my other foot in, i saw paige leap into the water (managing to splash an insane amount of water on me.)

"hey! did you put on sunscreen?"

i didnt even sorry about the fact that i was completely soaked, only about the fact that paige burns very easily.

paige stopped her playful water splashing to side eye me. taking care of her skin wasn't exactly her strong suit.

"c'mere"

paige sulks and drags herself out of the water. i empty out the red chair and sit in it before tapping my lap, motioning for paige to sit down. i gently rubbed sunscreen on her back even though she kept trying to wriggle out of the grip i had on her waist.

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

after a lot of splashing water, dancing, trying water aerobics, and almost drowning eachother, most of the girls went back inside to dry off. it was around 2 pm now and me and paige couldn't bring ourself to get out of the water.

right now she had her arms wrapped around my waist and her fingers were messing around with the strings that hung off of my bikini bottoms. her chin was on top of my head and our legs were intertwined under the water.

"paige can we do something....i guess try something"

me and paige were together for almost 4 months now and the most we had done was making out. everytime we would try to do more it would get interrupted.

"what's in mind princess"

i could tell that paige was purposely trying to get me to say it just to tease me. i sigh loudly and turn around to face my girlfriend.

"your really gonna make me say it p"

paige nodded silently with a smirk plastered on her face.

"can we just go deeper in the water for a little bit paige"

i could tell that she was holding back a huge outburst of laughter. she placed her hands under my thigh and lifted my legs around her waist. she carried me further in the water so that only our chests were above water.

while she still had a grip under my thighs, she layed me down against the water to get my head wet before quickly bringing me back up and into her lips. a small gasp left my mouth once the cold water touched my head. i moved my hands around the back of her neck, twisting my head to side just enough for our noses to wedge together perfectly.

paige slowly but surely moved her lips down to my exposed neck and gently bit around the skin, sendjng small whines out of my lips. i threw my head back and gave her more room to work her lips around.

this is usually where we would have to stop, either because i got scared or someone would walk in on us. but that definitely wasn't the case right now. i felt paige's hands tease around the hem of my bikini bottoms, rolling the edge down a bit to expose a little bit more of my hip.

her lips made their way back up to mine while she worked her way down into my bottoms. she started rubbing my clit with her thumb, already forcing stifled moans out of my throat.

she parted her lips for her tongue to slip out and against mine. as our tongues mingled and twisted together she began circling her thumb faster before dipping two fingers in me. i felt her finger pumping in and out at a steady pace. her lips were still attached to me while she brought me close to my climax.

"fuck"

paige took that a sign to go a little faster. while she practically swallowed every moan and whine i let out, i began bucking my hips against paige's hand. my bikini bottoms had made they're way down my thighs, giving paige more room to work with.

my legs wrapped tighter around paige's waist as i came for the first time. strings of curse words left my mouth mixed with her name.

i noticed paige slowing her pace and coming to a stop.

"paige please..."

i whined in her ear after pulling my lips off of hers. all i could see was a strong smirk on paiges face. she kept her fingers in me but stayed still, forcing me to ride them.

i began grinding my hips against her fingers. just as i was about to speed up, i felt paige's hand grip on my waist and slow me down. nothing could explain how badly i wanted to go faster but i couldn't deny paige's touch.

she moved her fingers around inside me, teasing through my folds. even though her hand was basically sitting still it felt like she was doing this to me.

once i reached my second orgasm she started guiding my through it again. using her hand to speed up my hips. i let out a louder moan and prayed that we were deep enough in the lake for no one to here me.

finally, my thighs released the tight grip they had around paige's hips. she slowly took out her fingers but kept them under water. i gently pulled up my swim suit bottoms and brought my legs down to rest.

"you did so good baby"

i whispered against her neck while floating back to the cabin. i placed a couple kisses against her flushed lips knowing that i would repay the favor later tonight.

#paige bueckers #paigebueckersxreader #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #smut #basketball

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moon-river-me · 4 months

Note

hey i saw you're open to requests!

What about a hotch x reader fic where he's reunited with an old friend on a case and he gets all flirty and flustered? No angst, happy ending if poss 👀

Aaron Hotchner x lawyer!reader

sfw, reuniting, fem reader <3 no haley or jack mentioned and no specific season

Eyes meet across the room. Warmth fills his gut. He knows those eyes, he memorized those eyes, he loved those eyes.

“Aaron?” your voice still sounded the same, like honey and warmth, like the soft and lulling pitter patter of rain on a spring’s night. Just how he remembered.

You made a B-line for him, at a determined speed. That’s another thing he remembered about you, so determined. Throughout all of law school you both would compete, for anything and everything, you almost always won.

“It’s really you, huh?” looking at him with so much admiration he needed to break the contact. “So, what’s a hotshot FBI agent doing here? Come back to beat the score.” You jest, hitting his elbow with your own. The score was something sacred back in your university days. It was a tally between you two, one that would update every time one of you got a higher grade, an award, a commendation, or stayed sober the longest, the last one was always biased. He fondly remembered nights of drunken giggles and takeout while watching badly written court tv shows on your thrifted couch.

“Oh no, those days are long gone. Any more tequila and my liver will go into failure.” A ghost of a smile paints his lips.

“I still get flashbacks after a mere whiff of the thing.” Your laughing sounding more of an amused snort, not caring who saw you. That was something Aaron always loved liked about you, not once in the entire time he knew you did you ever care about how others viewed you. You were so uniquely you that he truly believes if another you appeared one day, the earth would stop spinning.

Emily and Morgan walked up behind him; he could see their smirks through the back of his head. “Hotch, I didn’t take you for a tequila connoisseur,” Derek was in view now, offering his hand to you, “Derek Morgan.”

“y/n l/n,” you state as you shake, “and you should have seen him in our second year of law, god I thought I was going to have to drag him to emergent care some nights.” Your words were embarrassing, but your eyes were filled to the brim with joyfulness, you make eye contact once again and it is as if the world stops. “But of course I was no better so I would be a hypocrite to say anymore.” You grin, your lip getting a slight tug from your teeth. Aaron felt himself blush as his brain began to create images of that lip, and those teeth, and that smile, and oh those beautiful eyes.

You noticed the change in his demeanor, you always had. Except this time, your eyes twinkled in victory. “So, what do you guys need?” you turn you head towards Emily, although your gaze is stuck like honey to Aarons eyes.

“We were told that you were the prosecutor for the case we are working on. We came to discuss some things about the trial.”

“Oh of course, let me just grab the file. One second.” You turned to walk to your office; it was just principle that Aaron followed you, no other reason. “Come on agent Hotchner, the file isn’t going to find itself, I need your expert profiling skills to uncover it.” You laugh as you reach your office. Aaron looked at his very amused coworkers and felt the flush of his cheeks get 2 shades darker.

“I don’t know who she is or if they have a history, but he followed her like a dog.” Morgan states, a belly laugh following as he finishes his senses.

Emily observed you through the glass, your head thrown back in laughter, and Hotch’s eyes staring at you with something that could only describe as a child on Christmas morning.

“He is whipped.”

A/N

short and sweet but trust me I will start doing longer ones.

requests are still open, please give feedback.

ik it's not the best but I hope you like it.

#criminal minds #bau team #criminal minds fandom #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner is my husband #girlblogging #i love making grumpy men babygirl #emily prentiss #derek morgan #short story #my fic #fluff #aaron hotchner fluff

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me-loving-woso · 10 months

Text

Beach days, new teammates and love confessions

After literally months I am back. This is part 2 of Bruises Apologises and Cookies? It’s 15 k and probably I’ll make also a part 3 cause I am now invested in the story. Let me know if I should go on.

The season ending was a very bittersweet moment for you. From one point of view, you really didn't want to leave your club when they had given you so much.

The fans loved you, your teammates had become family, and the stadium was a second home for you. But you knew that you had to move for your career to flourish and make you reach your full potential.

The last game you played was the final of the Coppa Italia against Juventus. Your captain gave you the armband to lead your team one last time, and you were trying to hold off the emotions welling up. You almost felt like you were betraying the team in a sense. Still, you knew it was only an impression, as everyone was spurring you to go to Barcelona. They only wanted what was best for you.

You won 1-0 in that game, with your goal making the difference. Your teammates made you lift the cup and shed one or two tears. You gave a small farewell speech, and then, for the last time, you rounded your little stadium, where you'd play all of your matches with the team, and said goodbye to your teammates and the fans.

Your mind went on autopilot after that. You pushed away all of your sad feelings in the locker room and in the car to go back home. At home, there you broke down. It was really over. The team, the club that had given you so much, was not your team anymore. And a new adventure was about to start.

The following day, you fled to Eindhoven with some of your friends from the National Team to see the Champions League final. You had promised Mapi that you would be there and also because you were there to meet the coach of Barcelona to finalize the contract with the club.

As soon as you land in Eindhoven, you text Alexia, telling her you have just landed. Your relationship with her had been highly confusing since she welcomed you into her home after the defeat against your team. Something between the two of you had shifted.

She took care of you and made you feel safe in her arms. It had been a long time since you felt like being with her was just casual, on your part at least. Maybe she was just being polite and not actually caring more than necessary. Yet, you would text or call almost daily to talk about your days or just football. She was the first person you told about your move to Barça and she couldn't have been more supportive.

As you texted her at the airport, she told you that you wouldn't see each other before the game because she was stuck in media duties. Still, she informed your friend and soon-to-be teammate that you had landed, so at least you would get to see Mapi.

As soon as you left your suitcase in the hotel, you got to the bar where you told her you would meet her.

"Soo, what are you doing in the summer?" You ask her while you are both eating some way too unhealthy burgers.

"Ingrid and I thought about going to Ibiza for a week; why?"

"Would you like to come to Italy for a few days?" You offer her, every year, you booked this tiny house for the whole summer in Praiano, near an abandoned beach. You thought it was a total steal for how much you had paid for it. You usually would go there with friends or family for a few weeks. It was really your favorite place to be.

"I would love to come, but I don't want you to third-wheel us." You chuckle.

"What makes you say I'm not inviting anyone else?" You smirked suggestively, making her understand what you were insinuating.

"So you finally made it official?" You had asked Alexia to join you for the holidays the last time you saw her when she told you that she had never actually been to Italy if not for a match, you said it was unacceptable, so you offered yourself as a tour guide.

A week or so later, you realize that spending more than a day together would be a bad idea for fear of spilling out your deep, confused, and embarrassing feelings for her. So you decided to invite Mapi along.

"Again. We. Are. Not. Dating." You repeat to her for the millionth time, frankly also trying to convince yourself.

"So you are not going on holiday with her."

"Yes, I am. As friends." You explain, trying to find the right words.

"Only friends?"

"Well, with also some other benefits." Her face turns into a disgusted look. "What?"

"You are talking about my captain, it's weird." Frankly, she will be your skipper too, which meant that you were banging your boss? That was a thought for the future you.

"I really hope you would like to join us if you have nothing better to do." You really hoped she would say yes because you had planned to tell her you were joining Barcelona there.

"I'll talk to Ingrid about it, but you know I can't say no to Italy."

As you return to the hotel, you have a drink with your friends, and then you excuse yourself to go to bed when you hear your phone buzz.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

'You up?'

'Yes, Why are you not asleep? It's late, and tomorrow you have a big game.' You reply.

'Just the nerves are getting to me. Last year with Lyon, we got demolished; I don't want it to happen again. It was difficult to keep the team united after such a loss, and I don't want to disappoint the fans.'

'Can I call you?' She sends another text.

You quickly start a video call, and she immediately picks up.

"Hey, cariño."

"Hey, Ale." You both smile dumbly at each other for a couple of seconds, but then you get interrupted by one of her yawns.

"You need some sleep, piccola, or you will be tired tomorrow. And as for the Lyon thing, you cannot predict the score tomorrow; you just can control how you play and try your best to motivate your team to be the best version of themselves. Lead them to glory, and give it your all. You won't have any regrets if you give everything on the pitch." You try to make her feel better, even though you know she will be stuck in her head all night.

"I'll try my best."

"And the least you could do, after ditching me tonight, is to score a goal for me tomorrow. It's the least." You tease her, making her smile.

"Asking for a goal in a Champions final? You know you are a very hard girl to satisfy, right?" She chuckles, making you feel relieved that you were able to make her feel a little better.

"You would be the expert on that, right?" You smirk suggestively, making her raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, I definitely am." She replies confidently.

"Go to sleep, piccola mia; tomorrow is a big day for you."

"Goodnight, cariño."

"Buonanotte, Ale."

The morning after you woke up, you quickly texted Alexia for good luck.

As soon as you got to the stadium, the tension was palpable, especially when in the first half Barcelona was down 2-0. You were getting extremely nervous and anxious. Your teammates, who were watching the game with you, noticed that. You were biting your nails to the skin. You didn't want them to lose, but if a team could turn around a 2-0, it was going to Barça, or at least you hoped so.

As soon as you saw the players come on the pitch for the second half, they all held an expression you couldn't understand. A mix of determination and hunger, especially Alexia.

The second half started, and not two minutes after, your woman bagged the first goal of the remontada. She ran to her fans, looking at you, making your initial with her hands, making all of your organs flip, fully blushing at the gesture. You really thought that she didn't take seriously what you said the day before.

As soon as she made that gesture, your now ex-teammates, watching the game with you, noticed what had happened and put the dots together.

"It's her, isn't she?" Linari asks you, wearing a shocked expression.

"What?"

"The girl from Barça that you are seeing. It's Alexia Putellas?" You chuckle, turning around to see the game, making her understand she was right. You weren't denying it anymore.

Not even two minutes later, Alexia scores a header, making the score a draw. She ran up to the side of the field, making your initials again and then celebrating with a little bow.

Barcelona was finally on track, and you could see that the intensity was getting much higher than it was before. Alexia played some of her best football in that second half. The game found an advantage with Rölfo when she scored the match's final goal and game-winner.

You saw her lift the trophy, making your heart grow a thousand times bigger on how much you were proud of her.

Then Mapi came to you, and you hugged her, congratulating her. You mingled in the stadium for a little while and finally left to the parking lot. You wanted to see Alexia but knew she needed to focus on celebrating and her teammates. You could text her later when she had the time to reply.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

'Meet me in the hallway at the stadium?'

You quickly excuse yourself from your friends and sneak inside the stadium again. As you were walking down the hallways to find her, you felt two hands sneak up on you, making you turn around.

She quickly picked you up from the air, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Ale!" You say, nearly tearing up.

She puts you down, turns her head to look at her surroundings, and then kisses you quickly, catching you completely off guard. "I have to return to Barcelona now, but I couldn't leave without seeing you." She says excitedly, you had never seen her this happy.

"You did it! You scored two goals. You are champions once again! I'm so fucking proud of you, Ale!"

"Did you see! I did your initials. Two goals for you, cariño! I probably wouldn't have won the trophy if it wasn't for you." She places her hands on your cheeks, smiling.

"I didn't do anything. It's all on you. I just gave you a little reassurance."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. I have to go now! I have a trophy to bring back to Barcelona. I'll see you in two weeks, cariño." She gives you a quick peck on the lips and then leaves for the dressing room.

The next day, your Instagram was swarmed by pictures of her celebration and a video of the team that was clearly hungover Alexia included, which made you chuckle.

That day, you were leaving for Praiano with some of your closest friends from the Roma team. You had invited them to spend the last days in Italy with you before you moved to Barcelona.

The club announced your signing in the middle of the transfer season so as not to overshadow your signing for the Champion's League win; you thought it was totally unnecessary, but LaPorta wanted to give you a 'proper welcome.'

The day of your announcement coincided with the day Mapi would arrive in Italy. You really wanted to be the one telling her that you would be joining her team, so you talked to Ingrid, begging her to not make your friend open her phone for that day. They would stay with you for five days before leaving for Norway. In contrast, Alexia would remain with you for the whole week, which was something that you were looking forward to some alone time with her. Still, you were also nervous about being alone with her in fear of blurting out your surely unrequited feelings for her.

As soon as her flight landed, you went to pick her up,

She was wearing some Barça shorts and a baggy t-shirt, wearing a messy bun, and walking towards you. As soon as she was close enough, you ran up to her and hugged her, which she soon reciprocated, picking you up from the air.

"Hey, cariño."

"Hi, champion." She put you down, buried her head in the crook of your neck, and placed a small kiss there.

Then you took her suitcase, grabbed her hand and led her outside the airport. As soon as you get into the car, she takes your hand again and never returns it for the rest of the trip.

"How was the flight?"

"It was good, though nobody speaks Spanish here; they just add the S to the end of every word in Italian. It's so annoying." She pouts cutely.

"Welcome to Italy."

"So, is Mapi already here?"

"No, they are coming tomorrow morning; they had an issue with the plane tickets."

"So we are alone tonight?" She grins suggestively while you quickly nod at her before focusing back on the road. "So, what are the plans for tonight?"

"It depends on how tired you are." She had just had a whole week celebrating with her teammates, and you could understand if she wanted a relaxed night in. You turn around to see her expression, a mix between a smirk and a suggestive glare. "Oh my god, woman! I didn't mean it like that! I'm more than just a body." You remark jokingly as if you weren't thinking about the same thing as her.

"I know. I love your body." She kisses the back of your hand. "Just as much as I love what it's inside here." She lightly taps your temple, making you slightly blush at her compliment. "SO, what are the plans for tonight?"

"If you are up to it, I wanted to take you out to dinner; since you say that Spanish food is better than Italian, I want to prove you wrong. And if you still have some energy, we can go for a walk later; I can show you around the city."

"I'm good for anything you want to."

As soon as you get to the house, Alexia's eyes widen.

"Oh wow, this is beautiful." She opens her mouth in wonder.

"Wait until you see the beach!"

You stop the car and take her suitcase inside the house while she is toeing behind you. You take her outside to see the small private beach.

"How did you find this place?" She marvels, still looking at the clear water in front of her.

"We used to come here when I was little; I've actually started saving up money to buy this place. The owner loves me and has no kids, so he is okay with me buying it."

She turns to you, taking you by your sides. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"No problem."

"Now, can you show me the room? I would like to change clothes."

You grab her hand and take her inside the tiny house. "I'm sorry it's a little messy." You still had some bottles of wine opened and some glasses on the table from the previous night. "My friends left this morning, and I still didn't have time to clean up."

"If that is messy for you, you don't want to come to my house during the holiday season." She lightly jokes.

You take her to one of the spare rooms, where she places her suitcase on top of the bed, and then she quickly looks at her surroundings, confused.

"Is this your room? Because I don't see your stuff in here."

"No, my room is over there." You point at the end of the hallway.

"Just take me to your room; we are going to sleep on the same bed anyway." She says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, I thought that you might want your own space."

"You have to stop being so accommodating. If I wanted my space, I would've stayed at home. I came here because I wanted to be with you. So stop being so cautious around me and take me to your room." She says, using her commanding voice that she only used on certain occasions, which she knew had an effect on you.

You take her to your room, which is the best room in the house. It was the biggest and had a great sea view outside the window.

You leave to make her change while you go in the living room.

She wore shorts, her bikini, and an open button-down shirt when she returned. You chuckled when you looked at her; she was really feeling the beach mood.

"Let's go outside!" She says excitedly.

"Wait, I still have to finish cleaning up, and then I have to go upstairs and finish some other stuff. I'll be there in a couple of minutes." You tell her you really wanted everything to be perfect for this week.

"Nope."

"What, sorry?"

"You are on holiday, so stop trying to make everything perfect; it's already perfect as it is, and come outside with me." She insists, making you giggle at her stubbornness.

"But-"

"No buts. You deserve to relax just as much as I do." She quickly approaches you, grabs you by the waist, and drags you outside.

"Alexia!"

She puts you down on your small patio when you get outside. She places your hands on your cheeks. "Now, let me do something I've wanted to do for two weeks. Can I kiss you?"

"You really don't have to ask anymore." You reply, standing up on your tippy toes to kiss her. It was slow and soft, and you could feel her smile through the kiss. She picks you up, and you can feel her begin moving. You needed to find out where she was going and why. But you were too caught up in her to understand what was happening. Then you hear some splashes and the sound of the waves. You break the kiss and look around: she brought you into the water, and she was wearing a mischievous smirk.

"Alexia, don't you dare!" You warn her. She was trying to throw you into the water. She responds to you by chuckling and releasing her grip from your body, making you wrap your legs even tighter to not fall down to the water. "Alexia, come on, I still have clothes on." You tried to convince her, but she looked like she didn't care. So she began tickling you on your sides, which she knew was your ticklish spot. You tried to squirm from her touch, but you lost balance and fell in the water while the woman beside you, still standing, started laughing.

“Tua madre in carriola!” You exclaim, slightly irritated that you had all your clothes drenched in water, but you couldn't fully care when there she was. You have never seen her as carefree and happy as now. You felt blessed that she was here, right now, with you, being like this, trying to make you finally relax and enjoy some vacation when it was nearly impossible, as you'd always stress about something.

"You know that I didn't understand anything you said, right? Only something about my mom." She chuckles. You quickly go underwater and grab her legs, making her fall into the water.

"Tu puta madre!"

"See! At least I didn't call your mom a bitch." You tease her while she fixes her wet hair. "And this is payback!" You finish, crossing your arms and wearing a proud smirk. You see her expression change from irritation to determination while swimming towards you. She picked you up and threw you with her in the water, and that is how you spent your afternoon. Stolen kisses, laughs, and a whole lot of competitiveness. Honestly, you couldn't ask for more.

After the both of you had calmed down after laughing and playfully fighting in the water, you swam to her. You made her wrap her legs around your waist while she was stabling herself, putting your hands on your shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, you always pick me up from the ground; we can switch roles occasionally." You tell her, lightly rubbing her thighs; you really missed having her close to you.

She replies by giving you a soft kiss, then begins to look at you, smiling.

"What?" You ask her, feeling yourself combust at the intense eye contact.

"I just really missed your face, cariño." She says, peppering feathery kisses all over your face.

How dare she say stuff like that when you try your best to keep inside your confusing and strong feelings for her.

"I missed you too, piccola." You blurt out, kissing her jaw, holding her a little tighter. You really didn't want to let her go. You had created this little bubble in which the both of you were enjoying each other's presence, not caring about what you were to each other, but just having fun with no constraints and being in each other's company.

"I think we should get inside." And the bubble popped.

You get inside the house with your clothes soaked and take turns to shower. It had been more than six months since the last time you were able to touch her, and you felt your body yearn for her. Yes, you had kissed, but nothing more than that.

You took her out to dinner in a small place near the city.

You really needed help to differentiate this dinner from a date. It had everything that a date would entail. Good food, subtle and not-so-subtle flirting, and great banter. The subtle touches under the table or the shared knowing glance made your heart skip a beat. This dinner felt like a date, but you knew it wasn't. And that made you feel a sort of uncomfortableness that wasn't easy to set aside to fully enjoy your night with her.

As soon as you finished eating, you took her for a walk around the city, and you would tell her anecdotes of what you did in those places you were walking by when you were a child.

You arrive at a park, and you both sit down on the swings.

"You know, this is actually where I had my first kiss." She turns to look at you, wearing a curious grin.

"Here? In this park?"

"Yeah. It was here. Actually, on this swing."

"Now you have to explain." She asks you curiously.

"Well, I was thirteen. We were a group of five kids, and we would come here every afternoon to have fun and play with the ball. I remember this boy always looking at me, and one day, we were alone at the park. I was on the swing; he made me close my eyes, gave me a flower, and kissed me."

"Oh my god, it's so cute!"

"No, it wasn't. It was very weird. But I think it was just me who didn't want to be handed a rose by a boy, much rather a girl. But that would be a problem for a future 14-year-old me. In hindsight, I think that it should have been the first clue of me liking girls." You chuckle, reminiscing about that young boy who made you realize that kissing boys was disgusting.

"Turn around." You see her standing up with a determined grin.

"What?"

"Just indulge me. Turn around." You turn around, your body closing your eyes expectantly.

"Okay, you can look now." You turn to face her and see a daisy in her hand.

"Well, this might not be a rose. But it is a flower." She hands you the flower shyly, making you chuckle lightly at her cuteness.

"And you are a girl and not a boy." You state.

"So, can I kiss you? I'll ask because I don't think that poor boy asked you."

"Nah, he didn't. But as I told you before, you no longer have to ask."

"Kissing you shouldn't be something you can take for granted." She replies, leaning into you and weighing the swing's chains.

After more than thirteen years, you recreate your first kiss. And this time, it feels right. It was as if you were meant to recreate it with someone who mattered, who would make you feel excited and nervous about how the little boy felt when he was kissing you. And you felt the same way with her, and every time you kissed her,

As soon as she breaks off the quick kiss, you remark, "I think you are a better kisser than that poor boy."

"I mean, I'd hope. I'm 29. He was your age."

"Don't get too cocky now. You were slightly better." You tease her. Making her lean into you and give you a searing kiss so that you'd know for sure that if you weren't sat on that swing, probably your knees would give out. It had an intensity that seemed out of place for being in a children's park. But neither of you seemed to care. It was dawn, the playground was abandoned, and you missed kissing her.

And most certainly she was just getting competitive because you told her she was slightly better at kissing than a thirteen-year-old. She wanted to wipe away any doubt about her kissing skills.

She breaks the kiss by lightly biting your lower lip, making you feel all hazy.

"Just slightly better?" She smirks proudly.

You didn't hear a word she said, as you were too busy falling down from the high she had just given you to actually understand words spoken to you in a different language by one of the hottest women you have ever seen. "What did you say?"

"I'll take that as a no." She lightly chuckles, taking your hand and walking to the park exit.

"Let's go home." She whispers, placing a small kiss on your temple.

The walk back to your holiday home was on autopilot. She took the lead on the conversation, asking you questions about the week's plans with your other two friends. As soon as you get home, you go to your small kitchen to get a glass of water while she toes behind you. As soon as you finish drinking, she comes closer to you, putting her hands on your waist and making you retreat until you hit the kitchen counter.

"Thank you for tonight. I really had fun." She smiles earnestly.

"I'm glad that you like it here."

"Oh, I love it here. Even though I think that the people in this place have an average age of 72." She jokes

"Nah, 75. In fact, there is only one kid in the whole town. And the father is actually the boy of the kiss in the park."

"Well, at least he moved on."

"Yeah, it was very tough for him, but eventually, after a very long time, he found love again. But again, how could you ever move on from someone like me." You joke.

"I don't know. Well, nearly after a year, I'm still here, so something right you must be doing." She teases you.

"Or maybe you just can't find better." You raise an eyebrow suggestively.

"I don't think there is better to find, honestly." Her gaze softens as she says those words, making you blush, hiding your face by placing your forehead on her chest, hiding from her. She pulls her hands away from your waist and puts them on your cheeks to try to move your head from her to see your face. "What?" She asks.

"You have to stop saying things like that."

"Why? I mean it." She reassures you.

"I- You know why." You try to make her understand, not fully saying out loud feelings; try to make her understand them instead without fully exposing yourself.

"I'd rather you say it."

You take a deep breath. "Alexia, do you want to go on-" Your phone rings and you look from your watch to who is calling you "I have to take this."

You squirm away from her touch and leave to go outside.

"Pronto, Emma. Tutto bene?" It was your best friend whom you hadn't seen in a year and a half. She never called without asking you beforehand, so you thought it was pretty important.

"Si, tutto bene. Ti devo dire una cosa.” She replies excitedly, making you release a sigh of relief that nothing bad had happened.

Ten minutes later, you come back to Alexia wearing one of your biggest smiles.

"Is everything okay?" She asks, still waiting for you in the same spot as you left her.

"More than okay!" You reply excitedly, walking quickly to her. "My best friend is getting married, and I'll be the maid of honor." You place your hands on her shoulders, then slowly move them to her neck, lightly playing with her hair. "Now, where were we?" You knew exactly how you left her; you were about to blurt out your feelings for her, but you decided to ignore the problem and not dwell on it too much. Instead, you kissed her. The kissing led to something else, and for the first time in more than six months, time froze, and you were back again in her arms.

The next morning, you wake up to the alarm with hair on your face and an arm holding you down. You had a headache and clearly were sleep-deprived. You open your phone and look at the time. It's 10 AM.

"Fuck!" You sit up, making the woman on your side slowly wake up. "Alexia, wake up. We are late; we should've been in the car by now."

You say, rushing out of your bed to quickly change. You had promised Mapi that you would drive her to your house from the airport because you thought it would be a waste of money to book a taxi when you had a perfectly functioning car that could drive you anywhere.

In five minutes, you were able to dress, brush your teeth, and get in the car. Thankfully, you remembered to shower the night before, so you didn't have to do it in the morning; you felt bad for Alexia, as you could see that she wasn't used to this level of rushedness, that you were more than used to as you always tended to sleep in, and eventually have to rush to get in time to train or to games.

You closed the door to the house while Alexia was still halfway done putting her shirt on. As soon as the both of you got into the car and slammed the door, you looked at each other and started laughing.

"Okay, those were the quickest five minutes of my life." She says while catching her breath.

"We totally overslept, and we are totally going to be late." You chuckle, starting the engine of your car.

"We can always say that we found traffic." She offers.

You definitely and not-so-subtly speed to the airport and then quickly call your friend to tell her that you are finally at the airport.

"I'm really sorry. We found traffic on the way here." You tell Mapi while you go to hug her and Ingrid. As your friend goes to hug Alexia, you turn to Ingrid and whisper, "Did she already open her Instagram?" You were trying to hold off her discovering that you were a Barça player; you really wanted to tell her, and that day would be the day that Barcelona would announce your signing.

"No, she didn't, but I can't hold off her phone for long." She replies, breaking off the hug and going to Mapi's side and beginning to catch up on her life and yours.

"Oh my God, I forgot to tell you! Emma is getting married!"

"No way! She's finally settled down?!" Everyone who knew the both of you always thought that you would be the first one to marry, as Emma has always been the hot mess between the two of you, afraid of commitment. "Is she marrying the same guy from college?" She asks you.

"Yep." You turn around to look at Alexia and Ingrid, and then you explain. "When I was in college when I met Kate, my ex, Emma met this guy who studied economics and finance at our same university. They got together way before Kate and I. He's so dumb. I love him so much. They are perfect for each other."

You turn again to face your tattooed friend, "Wait, is that a hickey?" Her face is adorned with a knowing smirk while pointing at your neck, making you subconsciously hide it with your hand.

"No, it's not! It's a bruise." You try to explain, mentally trying to remember to scold Alexia as soon as you got her alone.

"It's so not!" She chuckles, surprised, making you turn around to glance angrily at Alexia, who replies with an innocent smile. "Is that the reason why you were late?"

"No! We found traffic on the way here, as I told you before."

"Yes!" Alexia casually backs you up, making your other two friends understand it was a lie.

As soon as you get into the car, Mapi is about to take out her phone to put music on when you stop her, saying that only the passenger in the front, Alexia, could put the music on, which was a lie, but you really didn't want her to see her phone.

As soon as you got home, the couple went to their room to unpack the suitcase while you and Alexia put on your bathing suit and went outside to the beach to sunbathe. You were reading some book, trying to focus on the words of the book rather than the woman who was lying half-naked on your right. Which was getting increasingly more difficult whenever she would move or place soft caresses on your back, trying to get your attention.

"Hey." You turn to look at her.

"Hey, cariño. I'm sorry for the hickey. I got a little carried away yesterday night." She apologizes shyly, making you forgive her in the blink of an eye.

"Don't worry about it." You come closer to her, placing a hand on her chest, and give her a small kiss. You brush your noses together and tell each other sweet nothings, creating a small bubble that neither of you wants to pop. "I know that I'm a person who doesn't express much of her feelings vocally, but I just wanted to say that I'm really glad that you are here with me."

"Honestly, there is no place I'd rather be, cariño. By your side is where I am the happiest."

You move your lips closer to her, about to kiss her, when you hear the door of the house open and see your friends coming outside. You make your forehead fall on her shoulder while you feel her sigh displeased. You slowly move away from her and sit up.

"I'm still not used to seeing this." Your friend says while pointing at the both of you, making her girlfriend roll her eyes at her.

You spend the morning in your small private beach playing card games and catching up with each other.

In the afternoon, it was when the club would announce your signing, so you decided to tell her at that moment. You had brought your Barcelona shirt to be able to announce it away from Barcelona. You told the club that you wouldn't be able to fly to Barcelona for your signing because you had already booked your holidays, so you did all the photoshoots and signing beforehand.

The first hours of the afternoon had always been the hottest, so you all decided to come inside and plan together your four days ahead.

You go to your room and retrieve the Barça shirt. Then you leave to go to your living room. "Oh, and by the way, I decided on my future club." You say casually, sitting down on the couch next to Alexia, facing Mapi.

"You are renewing with Roma, right?" She asks curiously. "I heard some rumors saying that they offered you a big contract."

"Yeah, they did offer me a huge contract. But I decided to leave; check your phone." You look at the time on your watch. "I think they just made the announcement." You tell her excitedly.

She quickly checks her phone, then turns to look at you smiling. "You'll be a Barça player?" You slowly nod, taking out the shirt with your name on it and showing it to her.

"I wanted to be the one who told you; that's why Ingrid never let you use your phone today." You say while standing up to hug her.

"I'm so happy! We can finally win the Champions League together! Like we always dreamed about!" She says excitedly, looking at the shirt. "Have you already decided on the number? I know that yours has always been the 16."

"I don't care, honestly. I'm just glad to be a Barcelona player. Plus, Rölfo already has the 16. I don't want her to change numbers for me."

"It's already settled, cariñ- Y/n." Alexia interjects, making you turn to look at her. "I know how much the number means to you, and Frido already wanted to change the number to 18, so I asked her if she wanted to make the swap. If you want it, you'll have the 16."

"Ale, there was no need to do that!" You felt your heart explode with affection at the thought that she would do this for you without even asking her or talking about it.

"I know. But I wanted to." You lock eyes, and for a moment, it is as if you are the only one in the room. "Now, do you want me to take a picture of you for the announcement?"

You posted on your Instagram a picture of you and your friend holding your Barça announcement shirt, with the caption: 'Reunited with this one.'

The rest of the week passed in a blur, from boat trips to visiting nearby cities and loads of food; you finally felt at peace and ready for your new adventure in Barcelona.

You would stay one last week in Italy with your family to finish packing up, and then you would leave for Barcelona. You found a beautiful apartment near the training grounds, and it had everything you dreamed of. Huge kitchen, a small garden, and a great view of the city.

Everything felt perfect. Alexia was going to pick you up from the airport, you thought it was unnecessary and a waste if her time, but then you gave in, wanting to see more of the woman who had been on your mind ever since that week in Italy, maybe even from before.

As soon as you landed, you got the terrible news from your landlord that a pipe from your apartment had just exploded, which meant that for more than a week, you would be homeless.

As you walk sadly to the exit of the airport, you find Alexia smiling at you as soon as she sees you, but then, as soon as she sees your expression, her smile fades into an expression of worry. You go to hug her, circling your arms on her waist. "Are you okay, cariño?" She asks worriedly.

You bury your head in her shirt, feeling the warmth and comfort she is exuding and taking it all in.

"A pipe from my new apartment just exploded. I am homeless for a week, and I need to find a hotel not too far from the training grounds."

"We'll find a solution together. Now let's go to the car and go home." She takes one of your suitcases, puts her arm on your shoulder, and pulls you close to her, dragging you to her Cupra.

As you enter the car, you melt into the car seat, taking Alexia's hand and giving it a couple of kisses. She turned on the engine of the car and proceeded to leave the infinite parking area of the Barcelona airport.

"If it's not a problem, you can always stay with me." She offered when you asked her if she knew any hotels near the training grounds. "Because I really don't think you'd want a week of Mapi and Ingrid together." She jokes, clearly making a point, because as much as you love both girls, they are disgustingly in love, and being around them made you feel miserable with your current situation with Alexia.

"Ale, I don't want to intrude. You need your space, and until I'm settled in, I'll take up a lot of it. And I don't want you to feel like you have to because you stayed in my home during the holidays," You say.

"I'm not offering because I feel some sort of obligation. I'm offering because I care about you, and I'd hate for you to be stuck in a hotel when you can simply stay at my place."

"Are you sure?"

She chuckles at your stubbornness, "Yes, I'm sure, cariño. But I do have one condition that I cannot overrule." She becomes immediately serious, making you unconsciously sit up. "You have to bake me those darn cookies." Her condition makes you chuckle. "I want to bring them to my mamá."

"I'll bake you all the cookies you want, piccola mia."

You get to her home, and as soon as she opens the door, you are met with a ball of fur asking for your attention, which you gladly give to her.

That evening, you baked your cookies together, fully knowing that the next day would be your first day of training, so it acted more as a stress relief rather than something you were doing for someone else. Which wasn't a problem for you, as it had always been your love language, acts of service, and cooking for other people. But strangely enough, you weren't feeling at all that anxious, and most certainly, even if you wouldn't admit it to yourself, it was Alexia's merit.

Her presence seemed to ground you and anchor you to the real world, not making you overthink or go in a spiral of intrusive and not good thoughts.

You loved how, even though she didn't know how to bake, she would try her best to do whatever you wanted her to do, making you grin at her concentrated looks whenever she didn't understand something.

As you went to bed that night, you were cuddling up in Alexia's bed.

"So, are you excited about tomorrow?" She asks you.

"I am a little nervous, but yes, I'm very excited. I'm finally playing for my dream club, and honestly, I couldn't be asking for more. But I do have a question, though: Do you know how many people know about us on the team?"

"Mapi has been a good friend, but for now, only she and Ingrid know. But if you are asking me if I'll treat you differently than what I've been doing now, the answer is no. Of course, I'll not be kissing you because we are at work, but I'll never avoid you."

"You'll have plenty of time to kiss me on other occasions then." You give her a small peck on the lips and go back to your previous position, falling asleep in her arms, looking forward to the next day.

The next day, you have breakfast together and then leave for the training grounds. As soon as you get there, Alexia goes in for training, whereas you go and meet all the training staff and Jonatan Giraldez. You were nervous, as you always hated to meet new coaches.

"Hey, Mister."

"Hey, Y/n. I'm so glad to finally have you on my team. It has been two years now that you have been my number 6 choice. I hope we can work well together." He says, shaking your hand, making you blush lightly at the compliment.

"I will do my best to be the best player I can be." You say.

"I'm sure you will. Now, before going to train and meet your future teammates, even though I know you already know some of them, you unfortunately have some media to attend to."

He accompanies you to a room full of interviewers from Barça TV and some other places, and the interviews begin.

"Hello, Y/n Y/ln. May I ask you some questions?" He asks politely, and you slightly nod.

"Welcome to Barcelona; what made you decide to leave your former club to join Barcelona?"

"Barça has always been my dream club, ever since I was a child. I remember that my uncle wanted me to become an Inter fan, whereas my other one wanted me to become a Milan fan, but as soon as I saw Barcelona play, I was completely taken by their style of play, and it was this club and Messi, that made me fall in love with the sport, so I will always be forever grateful to this club, for giving me this opportunity."

"Y/n, you have the impossible task of replacing one of the best CDMs in the world, Keira Walsh, who had just returned to her childhood club, Man City, with Lucy Bronze; how do you think you will fit that role?"

"Woah, huge question." You lightly joke, earning chuckles from the interviewer. "I think Walsh is one of the best CDMs in the world right now, if not the best. It's not going to be an easy task to 'replace' a player like her, if we can say that. But I'll give it my all to this team, and even if I won't be the best 6 in the world, I'll definitely be the best version of myself to play for this historic team. It's my dream."

"Who are you most excited to play with?"

"Of course, Mapi. We played together during our Atletico days, and I always thought that we worked very well together. But honestly, all of them, I'm really excited to play in midfield with Aitana Bonmati and Alexia Putellas and one of the most underrated players of all time, Patri Guijarro."

"How do you feel about playing with Alexia Putellas, given the circumstances of your previous encounters?" You furrow your eyebrows at the question.

"You mean, given that the last time we played against each other, she nearly broke my nose?" You say lightheartedly, making the people understand that you weren't holding any grudge against her.

The English interviewer quickly nods. "As I said in previous interviews, I think Alexia is a great player and a great person, both on and off the pitch. She will be my new skipper, and I couldn't ask for anyone better. In our previous encounters, I think we were just unfortunate, and when you play with a person who is physically bigger and stronger than you, injuries may happen. But I don't hold any type of grudge against her; in fact, we actually joked about the fact that if she weren't a football player, she could definitely be a kickboxer."

"And that is all for today; thank you, Y/n."

"Thank you all for being here and Visca el Barça."

You quickly exit the room and speed walk to the changing rooms to get ready for your first training with the team. As soon as you put on the shirt, you immediately touch the badge of your new team and automatically smile. You had finally made it, and you couldn't be happier.

You put on your cleats and go outside to talk to your coach. All the other girls were making rondos or juggling with the ball, making you feel a little bit like a fish out of the sea. For a slight moment, you were slightly regretting coming to Barcelona but you knew that it was just your mind playing tricks on you and that you deserved to be there just as much as the girls who were already training.

"So, coach, do you want me to run a few laps or do some drills with the ball?" You tell him, feeling ready to do anything, even running, jumping up and down from your standing position.

"Oh no." He chuckles. "I don't know if you do this in Italy, but here at Barcelona, for every new player, we do the guard of honor."

"Oh no, we don't have to." You say shyly, not wanting to be at the center of attention.

"Oh yeah, it's tradition." He spurs you on, making you go with him on the pitch to your new teammates.

"Girls!" He screams, making all of them turn around. "As you already know, Y/n will be our new 16, so take care of her and make her feel at home!" He says, making you awkwardly wave at your teammates, embarrassed. Mapi walks excitedly to you and gives you a hug.

"Is your coach always like this?" You ask her, still embarrassed.

"Yep, get used to it."

"I will never get used to wearing these colors," you say, putting your hand on your badge.

"You deserve it more than anyone." She leads you to your teammates, and one by one, you get introduced to them, even though you already knew most of them, never leaving your side, for which you were eternally grateful to her. You leave Alexia for last, and she gives you a quick hug and a reassuring look, which is what you need to finally ground yourself.

They all line up to give you the guard of honor, which you try to make them not do, but Mapi basically pushes you to run, feeling all the smacks on your back as you are running. The training was great after that. You managed to talk and get to know everyone, and everyone was so nice to you.

The intensity, though, was something that you had never experienced before. The Barça rhythms were definitely higher than the ones from Roma, but you weren't the one who would give up that easily, overworking your body, trying to prove yourself to the coach.

You were on a water break, trying to catch your breath, putting your hands on your knees, straightening your back. You feel a hand at the back of your neck lightly squeezing, asking for your attention. You immediately recognize her touch, even though you didn't see her. You turn around to look at her, and you are met with a worried look.

“Are you okay, cariñ- Y/n?“

"So good." You say breathlessly. "I just have to get used to this much running, that's all."

"Do you want me to talk to the coach?"

"I don't need any special treatment, Alexia." You squirm away from her and jump on Mapi's back, interrupting her from some conversation she was having with Pina and Patri. You felt bad about leaving Alexia like that, so coldly, but then again, you always hated when people were concerned about your physical health or were just trying to help; it made you vulnerable, and you hated that. You immediately regretted how you talked to Alexia and decided that after practice, you would apologize to her.

When practice ended, you were exhausted but still very happy. Alexia was practicing free kicks as everyone left to change.

"Piccola mia, I'm really sorry about how I replied to you today." You say regretfully, placing your hand on her back, making her turn to you.

"I wasn't trying to give you any special treatment, Y/n." What happened to cariño? "I am your captain; if you feel bad or worn out, it's my responsibility to help you." She replies sadly, playing with the ball on her feet.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I just hate when people are worried about me. It makes me feel vulnerable. And I know you were just worried, so I'm really sorry."

"I know you are. Come here and give me a proper hug." She opens her arms for you, which you gladly take, and circle your arms around her waist, putting your head on her chest. Those types of hugs with her were your favorite hugs.

"Now, are you ready for the initiation?"

You break off the hug and look at her, puzzled. "What initiation? Mapi never told me anything."

"Well, it's more like a team bonding get-together with karaoke."

"So I have to sing? Will you sing too?"

"I am not singing, but you are a newbie, so you have to." She explains as if she were stating the obvious.

"The hell I am not."

"The hell you are." She chuckles.

"I do love music, but I do not sing. When I am sober, at least."

"You kinda have to; it's a tradition. Everyone has done it. It's about shedding any fear of embarrassment."

"But Ale-"

"Nope, it's settled." You sigh at her words and then leave to go to the dressing room.

“Goodbye capitana.”

“Goodbye cariño.”

In the meantime, Mapi and Patri were watching your interaction with Ale from afar.

"I've never seen Alexia this… soft? It feels weird." Patri states to her friend.

"Who? Alexia and Y/n?" Mapi asks dumbly, trying not to give out any details.

"I never specified Y/n." She raises an eyebrow. "Wait. Do you know something?" The midfielder's face turns into a wide smirk.

"I don't have anything to say to you that I should say."

"So you have something for me that you shouldn't say?" She asks, flipping the situation.

"Stop using wordy sentences to make me confused."

"You didn't reply to my question. Are they dating? Wait, is she the girl we all thought a couple of months ago fucked her?"

"I don't know anything! If you are really that curious, go and ask her!" Your friend replies defensively, really trying not to spill any secrets.

At that moment, you walked through the door and saw your friend, "You didn't tell me I had to sing?! Oh hey, Patri." You turn around to your new teammates happily waving at her, and then you go back to point your finger angrily at your friend.

"Oh, come on! How bad it could be! You were in a band, after all." She says

"You were in a band?" Patri asks curiously.

"I had a really dark past.." You explain quickly and dramatically. "Plus, you know well I didn't sing!"

"Oh, come on. Don't be too dramatic. I'll get you a couple of drinks, then you'll sing something, and that's that."

That evening, you were exhausted from your training, so you decided to have a power nap in Alexia's house, which she gladly joined you in. After a couple of hours, you were ready to go and left for the pub, where you would meet the girls from the team.

As soon as you get there, you leave Alexia to go to Mapi and mingle with some of the Spanish girls in that group, Ona, Aitana, Pina, and Patri. While Alexia went to talk to the older girls and her friends from the national team. Some hours in the night passed, and you were really glad that you were getting along with everybody from the team.

At first, you were very shy with them, but thankfully, Mapi, and in some instances Alexia, helped you a little to open up and make your teammates able to get to know you. Some girls were drinking, but you decided not to, and many of them started off the karaoke, making you sometimes laugh at their stupidity, whereas in others, you would clap at them.

You knew that your turn was coming when you saw Mapi run to another room and come out with a guitar in her hand, making you roll her eyes at her, completely understanding her intentions. You used to play the guitar when you were younger, and you actually were quite good at it. But you hadn't played in so long, and as the hype woman your best friend was and the fact that she loved embarrassing you, fully knowing you hated being the center of attention, she brought a guitar just for everybody to see and ask you about it.

She handed it to you, making you chuckle at her sarcastically, but she was wearing this proud smirk, which showed that she wasn't doing this just to make you uncomfortable and tease but also to show you off, which you thought was very unnecessary.

You open the guitar case, and you see a beautiful acoustic guitar.

"Where did you get this? Did you steal it?" You joke, admiring the guitar.

"The guy behind the bar recognized us and gave me the guitar."

"Do you play the guitar, Y/n?" Ona asks you curiously, making you turn your head around the table.

"Well, I used to play it; I haven't played in a very long time." You say while you pick it up and run the strings through your hands. You stopped playing the guitar when you left for Chelsea. Usually, music was your happy place, but when you moved out from Spain and broke up with Kate, your love for the instrument dissipated, and you wouldn't bring yourself to do something that you enjoyed so much.

"You should play something for us," Patri adds excitedly.

"Oh no." You reply shyly, putting away the guitar. "I haven't played in so long, plus I don't think I remember much, and I really don't want to embarrass myself." You chuckle nervously, hoping that they will let it go. In the meantime, the guitar thing caught some attention, so now, not only was your table waiting for you to play something, but everyone in your group and some other clients in the pub were waiting for you to play something.

"Oh nonsense, you know that you have to perform; if you don't play the guitar, you'll have to sing. So you decide…" Mapi spurs you on. You take a deep breath and move your chair to the little stage where the people would normally sing karaoke. You quickly tune the guitar, and then you finally feel all the eyes on you.

"Okay, if I get some notes wrong, please don't laugh at me." You look at Alexia one last time, who is somehow sitting with Mapi now, and she gives you a reassuring smile.

So you begin playing one of your favorite songs on the guitar; every time you play it, it reminds you of when life was fun and simple. Whenever you played it, you would get lost in the music and daydream of what those sounds elicit. (If you want to hear it, it's 'Mutter' from Rob Scallon, the live version)

As soon as you start playing, your tattooed friends turn to Alexia.

"Good luck, my friend." She pats her back ironically.

"What, why?" Alexia whispers, still trying to give you her full undivided attention.

"If she still plays like she played years ago, she has this way of conveying many emotions. Either they are sad or happy; whenever she plays something, she amplifies it by a thousand. The song that she is about to play is going to hit you like a ton of bricks, believe me."

The song begins slowly, but then it gets faster and fuller. It made you regret to decide this piece after not playing in so long, but you loved it, and honestly, you really wanted to show off a little to your teammates and, most definitely, to Alexia. Thankfully, this worry of making mistakes was quickly forgotten when you began getting lost in the music. You really missed being able to play and express yourself in this way.

As soon as you finish the song with the last chord, you don't dare to look at your teammates; only when you hear the claps do you lightly blush and turn your gaze around the room, searching for those beautiful eyes that have the capacity to render you hopeless, but you couldn't see her, nor your friend for that matter.

Your performance was nearly finished, and Alexia never took her eyes off you; she thought that what Mapi said was right; your performance hit her like a ton of bricks, but more than anything, it brought out a huge realization that Alexia could quite withstand, so she left, to go to the bathroom, trying to get some space. Mapi quickly followed her friend, and as soon as they were inside the small room, the defender turned to pacing Alexia.

"Woahh, hey, calm down. What happened?" She asks the midfielder, placing her hands on her shoulders, trying to stop her from walking around the room.

She takes a deep breath, "Mapi, I have a problem. A huge one."

"Okay, tell me what it is; I know that we can find a solution to it." Her shorter friend reassures her, clearly shocked to see her captain in this state.

"I don't think we can. I just realized that I am in love with her." She says, putting her hands on her face.

"Who?"

"Who? Mapi really? Lady Gaga. No Y/n, you idiot."

"Sorry, I just wanted to check. But why is it such a problem?"

"Because we decided not to have anything serious, and I really don't want to get rejected when I was the one that continuously pointed out that we weren't dating whenever someone asked."

"I think she feels the same. No. I know that she feels the same. Gosh, I spent five days with you two alone in a house; I can understand when two of my best friends are in love with each other. Eyes don't lie. And don't you dare tell that you haven't been already acting like a couple for at least 6 months now!"

"Do you really think that?"

"I know that. Just tell her how you feel. You won't lo-"

You open the door to the bathroom, searching for Alexia. She had been missing for a couple of minutes now, so you were a little worried that she might have been sick.

"Oh, here you are! I thought you left or you were sick!" You say happily when you finally find Alexia and Mapi, but then you notice something wrong with her, as if she was shaken up. "Wait, are you okay?" You asked, worried, coming closer to her.

"I'm okay, cariño." She reassures you, and then her expression changes into something happier and more proud. "I didn't know you were so good at playing the guitar!"

"I was better a long time ago. I haven't played in years, but this woman here." You point at Mapi quickly, "Can't mind her own business."

"Thankfully, she didn't; I know for sure you wouldn't have told me that you are good at playing an instrument."

"I would have told you!" You cross your arms, pouting.

"No, you wouldn't." She shakes her head, smiling, while Mapi nods, backing her up. "You'd hate for anybody to know that you are good at something, just in fear of being at the center of the attention." She explains, making you blink twice. It felt as if you were an open book for her to read and understand you perfectly.

"Get out of my head." You remark shyly, earning from her a chuckle. "So you liked the song?" You ask shyly and insecurely.

She gently places her hands on your cheeks, gently caressing them to give you some reassurance. "I loved it; you are a wonderful guitar player, cariño."

"Thank you." You lightly blush. For a moment, you forget that Mapi is in the same room as the two of you because you place your finger on your lips to silently ask her to kiss you. Which she gladly does, feeling her smile against your lips

"I'm still here, you know!" Mapi interrupts you from your little moment, irritated. "Bleah, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing this." You raise your middle finger at her, still kissing Alexia, fully starting to make out with her. You hear the door shut, making you temporarily pull away from her to look behind you, then resuming back to kissing her.

Five minutes later, you both decide to go back to your teammates, but as the night progresses, you feel yourself getting more and more tired, making all of your clinginess appear. You would orbit around Alexia more, trying to find some physical comfort in her presence, even though you really didn't want to show off your 'relationship' with her.

She noticed this almost immediately, so when you were passing by her, in a swift movement, she wraps her arms around your waist and dragged you to her lap; you stumble a little, trying to balance yourself, placing your arm on her shoulder,

"Are you tired?" She whispers in your ear as if you were the only two people in the room.

"Yes, I am a little. How did you know?"

"I have already seen you tired many times, cariño. You are very touchy when you are tired." You subconsciously move away from her, but she keeps you in place firmly. "Don't move away; I love this side of you."

At first, your new teammates gave the both of you a surprised look, but nobody would dare to say anything besides Mapi, obviously, who sent you from across the room a knowing look, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

By the end of the night, you had played some more guitar as some of your teammates wanted to sing some more songs. But after a couple more hours, you were exhausted, and when Alexia noticed it, she decided to bring you home to sleep.

That morning, when you woke up, everything in your body ached somehow. You really had to get used to Barcelona's rhythms. The bed was empty, so you figured that Alexia was making breakfast, so you painfully make it to Alexia's kitchen wearing one of her big shirts and some shorts you found along the way to the kitchen, which were scattered the night before trying to get to the bedroom. She was making coffee the way you liked it, with the moka instead of using her Nespresso machine 'that she loves so much,' which made you smile at her attentiveness. As soon as you walk into her kitchen, she turns around and walks towards you, giving you a small kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?" She turns to her kitchen again, rummaging through the cabinet on top of her stove.

"I slept really well. What are you doing?" You ask her curiously, leaning on the kitchen countertop and peaking.

"So I found out that my mom had a moka in her kitchen all this time, and I didn't even notice it! So I asked her if I could borrow it since I know you prefer this coffee to the machine." She says while putting the coffee maker on the stove.

"Ale, you shouldn't have done that! I would've gladly drank whichever one you had; you didn't have to go through such trouble for me." You lightly slap her shoulder.

"I didn't go through any trouble. I just wanted to make you feel at home."

Before saying something that you most probably regret, aka replying with But you are my home. You dragged her to your height, kissed her to show all of your gratitude, and whispered a small thank you. When the coffee was ready, you both sat down on her small table and had breakfast.

You were talking about some media stuff you were going to do in the afternoon when you heard a knock on the door. Alexia looks at you confused, not expecting anybody, and she leaves with Nana in tow; as she opens the door, you hear Alexia talking to a woman who has a very similar voice to hers, and then you hear her scream, "No, Alba, no!"

You see the woman enter the kitchen with Alexia chasing after her as if she didn't want her to meet you.

"Hello, my name is Alba. I'm Alexia's sister." You suddenly widen your eyes, shocked. She offers you her hand to shake, and you stand up.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You shake her hand and offer her a shy smile, subconsciously searching for Alexia to help you out with this unexpected visit.

"I know who you are; my sister nearly broke your nose. By the way, I want to apologize on her behalf; she never had proper manners."

"Alba!" Alexia screams, exasperated, while you release a light chuckle.

"Don't worry, she has already apologized. But yes, she has to work on her manners." You wink at Alexia, making her roll your eyes at you.

"Since when are you guys dating?" She asks curiously, earning another frustrated scream from Alexia.

"Oh no. We are not dating; she is just helping me out because a pipe exploded in my apartment." You reassure her while she stares at you confused, then lowers her gaze,

"So you give your clothes to all of your guests?" Alba asks her sister ironically, making you slightly blush.

"Well, I- I," The older sister stutters, making the other draw conclusions by herself.

"So you are dating."

"It's complicated." She says. "Is there any particular reason why you are here?"

"I forgot my sweater here last week, and I need it back. But I can come at another time."

"No, I'll get it for you." She disappears into the house, leaving you and Alba in an awkward silence.

Thankfully, Alexia comes back thirty seconds later,

"So you should come to dinner at mom's house sometime. She would love to meet your new 'roommate.'" She teases her older sister, clearly trying to irritate her.

"Well, then, you should invite Alexandre too since you live at his house more than you live at your own house." She replies sarcastically.

"I thought we reached an agreement to never talk about Alexandre ever again after the incident."

"By incident, she means when I caught them fucking in the bathroom during the semi-finals against Chelsea last year." She explains to you, clearly trying to irritate her sister, making you feel like you are getting way too much information on their dynamics in one sitting.

"Let me guess: when she saw you, she made some sarcastic remark, rolled her eyes, and left, right?" You joke, clearly imagining the scene.

"That's exactly it! Always rolling her eyes at people. So annoying! Finally, someone who gets it!"

"Uggghh." Alexia sighs and rolls her eyes at you both.

"See! She just did it again!"

"I don't like this coalition between the two of you." She lightly pouts.

"It's not a coalition when we are simply just stating the truth!" You lightly tease her, earning an approving nod from Alexia's sister.

"I hate you both!" She exclaims, fully knowing that she was just lying.

"No, you don't." Then you turn to Alba, "It was nice meeting you; I hope we'll see each other soon. I have to get changed for practice." You leave the two sisters while you get ready for training.

After a couple of minutes, Alexia entered your now shared room; you turned to her and placed your hands on her shoulders.

"So you met my sister…"

"She's very nice; I hope I made a good impression." You say insecurely.

"You made a great impression, cariño. I'm just really sorry that you had to meet her in these circumstances. Not to put pressure on you, but my sister can't keep a secret, and she'll definitely tell my mom about you."

"What a way to not put pressure on me." You chuckle nervously.

"Don't worry. I will handle everything, okay?" She gives you a small peck. "Now, are you ready?"

Training that day was even more intense than the day before, with the exception that you were finding so many link-ups with your new teammates. Sometimes, you would forget that you weren't training anymore with your old teammates, that if you passed the ball to the right, you would find Giugliano without looking, or that Linari was right behind you, ready for a pass if you needed it.

Now, you had different teammates, and your body had to get used to it.

Being back on the pitch with Mapi had been so exciting. Both of your styles of play evolved so much that how you played at Atletico didn't matter anymore. She loved playing with the ball, so you'd expect more passes from her than before.

What really changed everything for you were the players up front. Playing behind Alexia and Aitana was something that didn't happen every day. The best way for them to express themselves was if you were able to cover defensively for them, which you were doing gladly. Adapting to their style of play was not simple; they played on short and fast passes and opted less for long passes, which were your specialty.

You were practicing on free kicks, which you thought you were pretty good at. You didn't know why, but you were able to curve the ball perfectly, making the goalkeepers go crazy.

You were in a team with Mapi against Alexia and Graham Hansen, whom you were unceremoniously obsessed with her football skills.

It was your turn to shoot your first free-kick. Paños was on goal, and she was eying the ball. You go for the kick and curve the ball perfectly; the goalkeeper didn't even move because she thought it would be going out. It hit a top bin, and it was in. You throw your hand in the air competitively. "Dajeee!"

"That was a great curved ball! Where did you learn that?" Mapi asked, shocked, as she had never seen you take a free kick like that before.

You shake your shoulders nonchalantly while Caro asks you, "What are your free kick stats?"

"Like all time or just last season?" You ask shyly.

"All the time."

"Well, since I played for Roma, I was usually the one who took free kicks. I guess out of fifty-one direct free kicks, I scored forty-seven if I remember correctly."

"Wait, really?" Alexia asks you, shocked.

"Well, I love taking free kicks, and I practice a lot on them."

"That's not normal, Y/n; that's a really high conversion rate. I don't understand why I just heard about this!" Your friend tells you.

"I don't know, I just love taking them." You shrug your shoulders. "Plus, when I go for a curved ball, I don't know how, but I do it in a way that is almost impossible to predict."

"You can do a knuckleball too?"

"I'm not that good at that." They move the ball to the place and offer you to kick it. You hit the ball hard, and it goes for the post, then bounces off the other and goes in.

You scrunch your nose, dissatisfied, getting a new ball for another free kick, while your teammates look at you, shocked.

You turn to look at them, "What?

"Well, now we have to change teams, or it's going to get too easy for you guys!" Alexia says competitively.

"Oh, hell no! Now it's too late; we already decided on the teams!" Mapi says.

"Well, let Y/n decide." Ale crosses her arms, looking at you. "Do you want to swap teams and be with me, who is currently hosting you in my home, or that woman over there?" She points disgusted Mapi.

"Well, I-"You try to talk.

"Of course, she's going to choose me! I've known her for more than seven years!" They kept on bickering while you and Caro just stared at them, chuckling.

"You know? I think I'm actually switching teams." You raise an eyebrow, smirking.

"You made the right decision," Alexia says proudly. She walks to you to get on your side.

"That's arrogant to assume that I would switch teams with you, Alexia." You give her a smirk and walk to Caro's side, leaving Mapi and Alexia next to each other. "Caro and I are going to destroy you!"

And so you did. After another twenty minutes, you finally leave the pitch and get home with Alexia. Once again, you were exhausted, but you were very happy that you were able to get along with your new teammates.

As soon as you get home, you throw yourself to the couch while Nala jumps on top of you for cuddles, which you gladly give her.

Alexia was still pouting because she lost the free-kick competition. "Oh, come on, you can't be still mad!"

"I'm not mad."

"Well, it's not every day that you get to be on the same team as Caroline Graham Hansen. You know how much I am obsessed with her football skills."

"Well, then, why don't you go and ask her if you could crash at her place."

You sit right up and drag her by the shirt to you. "Are you jealous, piccola?"

"No, I am not! Why would I ever be! Caro is in a relationship with Marta. Plus, I am the one that has two Ballon d'Or." She says, trying to convince you.

"I know. You are the best of the best. I had to basically seduce you so that my team could have a chance against you. And you don't have to worry about anyone. There is no one else." The last words unconsciously slip out of your mouth, making you mentally curse at yourself.

"There is no one else for me either. Y/n, I have to tell you something." You nod at her while placing your arms on her shoulders.

"I'm in lo-"The phone rings again. This time, it is Alexia's phone. She goes to look at it. "It's my agent. I really need to take this."

After thirty minutes, she comes back looking stressed out.

"What was the call about, that made you go on the phone for thirty minutes?" You ask curiously.

"Oh no, I was also on the phone with my mom; that's why I was out for so long."

"Is everything okay at home?"

"Everything is great!" You could see that something was up. "But you know when I told you that my mom found out about you-us?"

"No? I thought that she still didn't know."

"Well, now she does. AndsheinvitedusfordinnerandIdidn'tknowwhethertotellyoubecauseIdon'tknowifyouwanttocome."

"What, sorry? I know you have this cute little habit of talking fast when you are nervous, but remember that I am not Spanish."

"Sorry." She takes a deep breath. "My mom invited us for dinner. You can totally say no, but-"

"I would love to come to dinner, Alexia. You didn't have to be that nervous." You give her a small peck on the lips. "Tell her I will bring the dessert."

"So, are you ready to finally meet your mother-in-law this afternoon?" Mapi asks you while you leave for morning training together. Finally, your home was fixed from the pipe, and you were able to finally live there. There was still a lot of work to do as you had to basically furnish the apartment, which had been really hard, especially when you were away for most of the day.

Thankfully, Mapi offered to help build a table that you had bought from Ikea in your living room, so with some help, your home was starting to take shape.

"She is not my mother-in-law. I am not currently in a relationship."

"I still don't understand why you can't tell her how you feel."

"Fear of rejection. Or fear that it's going to turn out like my previous relationship. Fear of being just delusional or fear of-"

"Okay, you have made your point! I just feel like you should; maybe you'll find out that she feels the same."

"Yeah, right. As if someone like her could fall for someone like me. She's way out of my league. But anyway, you have met Alexia's sister and mom, how are they? Do you have any tips?"

"They are going to love you. Just be yourself."

"That's not helping, Mapi." You chuckle.

"Ugh, just be polite and show that you genuinely care for Alexia. They are very protective of her. Don't show off, and don't be too shy. But I really don't think you are going to have a problem doing all that."

As soon as you went home, you quickly got ready in your desolate apartment; as soon as you were done, Alexia texted you.

Your Favorite Kickboxer ;)

I'll be here in 5 minutes.

The nerves were kinda getting to you, so you paced around your empty living room until Alexia came knocking at your door. As soon as she saw you, she quickly gave you a hug and pecked your lips.

"Hey, Cariño, are you ready?"

"So ready! You don't even know!" You fake out.

"Okay, yeah. You have to work on your lying skills. What's up? You don't have to come if you don't want to." She says calmly.

"It's not that Ale. I'm just nervous. I haven't met the mom and sister of a girl I am seeing since my ex. I'm just nervous, that's it."

"They'll love you, believe me. Now, take a deep breath; everything will be fine. We will go to my mom's for lunch, and she will show you some of my baby pictures, trying to embarrass me, and my sister will do the same. Then we'll get back home, cuddle up on the couch, and watch some of your sappy movies, okay?" You slowly nod, feeling a slight motivation through her words. "Now are you ready, cariño?"

You slightly nod, and she leads you to her car, but before that, you stop her and gently kiss her lips. "Thank you. You know I really, really like you?" You tell her.

"I really, really like you too."

You get to Alexia's mom's house, and the first thing she does is go up and hug you. You were taken by surprise, but after a second of shock, you quickly reciprocated.

"You must be Y/n, right?"

"Yes, it's me. You have a lovely house."

She takes you into the living room, and then she quickly disappears into the kitchen while Alba appears out of her room to see you.

You lightly chat with her until Alexia's mom screams for the two girls to come and help her; they quickly get into the small kitchen, clearly not knowing what to do.

"Do you need help, Eli?" You ask shyly.

"Oh no, you are the guest." She says, gently smacking your hands away from the pan you were stirring.

"Oh really, it's no biggie. I love cooking, plus I know how much Ale is a disaster in the kitchen. I can help if you like." You offer politely.

"For your information, I am a great cook," Alexia says, slightly offended. Neither her sister nor her own mother backed her up. All knowing how bad she was, making you chuckle.

"Don't worry, mija, you have some great qualities too." Her mom lightly teases Alexia, making her pout cutely.

As soon as lunch was ready, you helped set up the table, and you sat down.

"So, Y/n, how do you like Barcelona?"

"Oh, I love it here. I just had a minor slip-up with my apartment, but now everything is fixed."

"You are from Italy, right? Because I don't hear any accent." Her mom asks curiously.

"Well, I lived in Spain for a long time before moving clubs. I played for Atletico Madrid with Mapi."

"So you must be happy having her back as your teammate."

"I'm really glad. Plus, Barcelona has always been my dream club."

"Is it difficult being away from home?"

"Well, I left my home in Italy when I was really young; I left to study in the USA."

"Oh wow, what did you study there?" Alba asks you.

"I studied physiotherapy."

"So when you retire from football, you could become a therapist for Barcelona or some other football club," Alexia suggests.

"Well, I could, but I actually work with prosthesis. I studied to help people who have lost their limbs to build them prosthesis."

"I didn't know that!" Ale tells you, shocked but also proud.

Lunch proceeded great. Ale's mom and Alba were just like Mapi pictured them. Fiercely loyal and protective of one another. You really hoped that you made a good impression because even though you weren't in an actual relationship with Alexia, meeting her family felt like a huge step, and you'd hate for them to not feel like Ale made the right decision by seeing each other.

What you really liked, though, was the fact that you could see how much Alexia was being herself around her family. She didn't have her walls up, nor did she have to keep up with her duties as the captain. She was just herself, and you were lucky enough to be able to experience it and be part of her inner circle.

As soon as lunch was finished, you stood up to help Ale's mom clean up the table, and then you brought the dessert that you had made for the occasion.

"I didn't have much time to prepare something fancier; my kitchen is still a mess."

"You didn't have to prepare anything!" Ale's mom replies while she cuts open the cake you had stress baked for the occasion.

"My parents always taught me to never walk into a home as a guest empty-handed." You simply reply. "And really, it's nothing. I love baking, so actually, you gave me an excuse to make something."

"You know, Y/n, out of all of the girls that Alexia has brought home, you might be the nicest." You turn your head down, blushing, while Alexia, embarrassed, calls out her mother.

"Well, I think that just the fact that you are here means a lot. You know, Y/n, Alexia had a very bumpy love life." Alba calls her sister out, making Alexia send her a death glare.

You were too curious now, "I wanna hear all the details." You rub your hands, waiting for Alba to fill you in.

"Well, Alexia had many situationships that ended rather quickly."

"Alba!" Alexia warns her.

"One lasted two weeks I think, with this nice girl. For the record, she was really nice. The poor girl had the misfortune to be a cat person. Nana didn't like her, so she stopped seeing her."

"For the record, I don't regret it! My Nala is my best matchmaker, and I could never be in a relationship with someone who doesn't like my dog, who's currently living with me."

You chuckle lightly at her, "Thankfully, Nala likes me, or else, I wouldn't have lasted even a day." You tease Alexia, remembering how you met the small dog when you first hooked up with her, how Nala would try to get her owner's attention, but she was too busy on you to actually care.

"Well, thankfully, you are also a Barça fan because my sister left a fucking date because they were a Madrid fan."

"Okay, it did not go like that." Ale tries to explain herself, but she is soon cut off by her sister again.

"You told her that you played football, and she made a small comment about how she slightly preferred Madrid to Barcelona."

"She wanted me to go to the Bernabeu with her." She pauses. "On the Madrid section!"

"Poor girl, you turned down a girl just because of her club preference?" You chuckled at her stubbornness.

"She was also very annoying."

"How many dates did you go with the Madritista?" You ask her.

"One." You all burst out laughing.

"The next girl instead, more than a situationship, was a failed date. She was a friend of a friend of mine, and after the date, Ale called me and I asked how the date went, and she replied that she thought that the girl was amazing, but she didn't like the outfit, so it wouldn't work." Alba chuckles hard, making you shake your head teasingly at Alexia.

"In my defense, she was amazing, but the outfit was too distracting, so much so that it felt like our personalities wouldn't go together."

"You got all that by an outfit?" You ask her incredulously.

"Yes." She states bluntly making you playfully shake your head at her.

By the time lunch was finished, you were about to leave.

"It was lovely meeting the both of you. I really hope I'll see you soon." You go to hug the two women and then leave to go to the car, waiting for Alexia to say the final goodbye.

When Ale gets into the car, she sits in the driver's seat, takes your hand, and kisses it.

"Thank you for coming."

"Thank you, for inviting me. Now let's go home; we have a couch to build."

As you get home, Ale quickly gets ready to build your Ikea couch while you take some of your most valuable stuff, like family pictures or small trinkets that hide memories that you will forever treasure.

You were unpacking the first ball they gave you when you scored your first hat trick, then you moved to a larger box, and you soon felt overwhelmed by how much stuff you had to unpack, making you slightly regret your life choices.

Alexia was still on the floor trying to build up your couch when she suddenly resurfaced clumsily.

"Why are those instructions so difficult? I just feel like Ikea should be better at making them. I should ask Frido." She complains to herself, making you chuckle from across the room.

As you looked at her while she was building your couch, without anything in return, just simply to make you feel more at home, a warm feeling spread through your chest.

You just smiled. Smiled at the woman who came out of nowhere and turned your life around. Smiled at the woman who had taken your heart without you noticing it. And then you realize that maybe what you had with Alexia right now wasn't enough for you. You wanted more. Because those feelings that you had slowly built over time weren't avoidable anymore. What you had with her wasn't enough, and you realized that you couldn't pretend anymore that you were okay with it.

You needed to be alone, to think, to prepare yourself. Just her being in the same house as you was just too much. You were feeling too much. Feeling too much for her.

So you quickly stood up, crossing your arms, unconsciously wanting to close yourself off as much as possible.

"Ale, I need you to get out."

She turns towards you and sees how much you were shaken. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is good. I just need you to leave, please." You try to be as convincing as possible.

"Everything is not good. You are not good. Tell me what's wrong." She rubs your shoulders soothingly in worry.

You don't know why, but your mind figured that it would be best if you'd just rip the bandaid off.

"Ale, I think we have a problem." You take a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with you."

There was no turning back now. You could take your words back, so you waited patiently as her brows furrowed and then quickly fixed in a soft expression.

"I think we have two problems then. Because I think I am in love with you too."

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 months

Text

Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: This one's the first of many doozies. I recommend you clock out now if you think the following will distress you: mentions of rape, but no scenes or explicit description. If not, read on! Chapter Title is from Rebel Rebel by David Bowie.

Word Count: 7.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Your first mission is delivered, and it goes about as expected. Contains usual tags, emphasis on mention of rape/non-con.

Read on A03!

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

When your team stepped into the safe house, you could see the moment the smell hit their noses.

“Merde,” Frenchie was the first to speak, a poor omen within itself. “What the fuck am I smelling?”

“Uh, probably the milk and meat. They’re the strongest.”

Annie said your name carefully, watching your reaction as she spoke. “What happened.”

“He wouldn’t put away the groceries.” You said with a shrug. You were over it. It was like, ten bad things ago.

“So you just. Left them out?” Hughie said, seemingly baffled.

“Yeah.”

“Mallory said she delivered them on the first night.” Annie glanced between you and Hughie.

“She did.”

Hughie’s eyes widened further. “That was almost two weeks ago.” When you just nodded in agreement, he pushed further. “They’ve been out the whole time?”

You frowned. “He doesn’t get to win.”

“What are you, five?”

You just sighed, giving Hughie a pleading look. “Don’t tell MM.”

“What?” Butcher taunted from the back of the group. “That he was right, and you can’t handle Soldier Boy?”

“I thought you were on my side about this.”

“I’m on the side of the truth, Love.”

Both you, Annie, and Frenchie let out huffs of amusement at that claim, with Hughie looking sheepishly amused.

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Annie gave Butcher a pointed look. He only winked in response, leaving her to turn back to you with an eye roll.

“Has it been like this,” Hughie gestured vaguely around him. “The whole time?”

“Nah. Worse.”

Really, hell would be a better word for it. After the knife incident, there had been the toilet paper incident, which you had won, the coffee incident, also your victory, the laundry incident, point Soldier Boy, the TV incident, point you, and the Lord of the Rings incident, another point Soldier Boy. The Elton John, Jimmy Carter, and Rockefeller Center incidents had ended in stalemates akin to the Cold War, but should those fuses reignite, you were sure you could take them home. Overall, you’d burned him seven times, he’d thrown two chairs at you, you tossed shit in his face once and threatened castration on fifteen separate occasions, and he had offered to sleep with you thirty-one times.

“He hasn’t, he hasn’t hurt you. Right?” Hughie wasn’t fully looking at you when he asked, his voice soft and nervous.

“No. I mean, he’s tried. Not in… that way, but I’ve had a few things thrown at me. All the physical violence died out around the laundry incident, though. Now we’re using psychological warfare.”

“Laundry incident?” Hughie said at the same time that Frenchie said, “Psychological warfare?”

“Don’t ask.” Was your response to both. You’d avoid revisiting the laundry incident in your mind for the rest of your life if you could help it, and the actual practice of your warfare was more childish than you’d like to admit.

“Well, as lovely as a reunion this has been, we need to talk to you both. Where’s the cunt, anyway?" Butcher craned his neck to look down the hall.

“Probably moping around in his room.” You shrugged. “Let’s talk in the living room, standing at the door is weird.”

While the living room hadn’t taken even close to as much damage as the kitchen, it had not escaped you and Soldier Boy’s sparring unscathed. Books provided by the CIA, which were mostly stereotypical classics, had been upended from their shelves and strewn across the floor. The TV was still intact, as was the sofa, but the former was stuck on PBS, and the latter was, at this point, compromised of 70% trash.

“Holy shit,” Hughie muttered as he stepped over a copy of Catcher in the Rye. “You can’t plan on living like this the whole time?”

“Well, if America’s number one man-baby would stop moaning and bitching about his glory days, then maybe, yeah.”

Annie gave you a concerned look. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll castrate him.” Though the threat had now been made sixteen times, it never satisfied you less to say it.

“I’ve told you, Sunshine, if you did that, you would only be hurting yourself.”

Everyone in the room fell silent, their eyes trained over you with tense gazes. You turned to find Soldier Boy almost directly behind you. “I’ve told you, by definition, I’d only be hurting you.”

He gave a mocking pout. “Wouldn’t that plague your perfect little conscious?”

“I’d live.”

“Bitch.”

“Cunt.”

“Prude.”

“Manwhore.”

“Whiny Brat.”

“Waste of space.”

“Waste of good pussy.”

“Waste of government money.”

“Waste of Compound V.”

“Pathetic, assfaced Dickwad.”

“Stuck up, pretentious Ice Queen.”

“Geriatric, entitled, blue-balled G.I. Joe Fuckdoll”

The room had practically vanished around you as you and Soldier Boy fell into your now well-tread path of insults. Your blood was burning with that feeling, aching to burst across the room as both of you glared hard enough to, fingers crossed, kill the other.

“Jesus Christ,” Hughie said, breaking you out of your own spell.

“What are they doing here?” Soilder Boy asked, somehow having only just clocked their presence. “Do I finally get to do my job and leave?”

“No,” Annie answered. “We have no way of knowing how long you’ll be here at this point.”

“That’s what I said,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to your team.

“Yeah,” Soldier Boy said at full volume. “And I don’t fucking trust you.”

“Will you get off my ass about it now?”

“I think you like me on your ass, Sunshine. My offer never leaves the table.”

“Cunt.”

“Bitch.”

“Helpless man-child.”

“Prissy tease.”

“Glorified propaganda poster-“

“No,” Annie cut it. “We’re not doing that again.”

“Party pooper,” Butcher grumbled. “I was hoping they’d kill each other this time. Then we could just go home.”

“Well, did you at least bring me drugs?” Soldier Boy seemed to search the room, as if a pile of weed and coke would miraculously appear on the floor amongst the mess of wrappers and fluid-filled paper towels.

“We’re not buying you drugs with government money.” Annie said, giving you a look of apology. “As I’m sure you’ve been told.”

“Many times,” you affirm under your breath. You’d had to hide the glue on day five, which had let to the toilet paper incident on day six. A day had not passed since where you didn’t catch him trying to turn a new household object into something to snort.

“I thought weed was fucking legal now.” Soldier Boy glared at you, as if you were personally responsible for the CIA not buying him blunts. “It’s a free fucking country. I should be able to smoke whenever I damn please.”

“Porn is legal,” you reply. “Doesn’t mean the federal government is going to bring you some.”

“If they brought me porn and weed, I’d be far more open to whatever shit you want from me.” He winked at you.

“We gave you that last time,” Hughie pointed out, shifting nervously. “It barely helped.”

“Will you be a good little supe if we come back with porn and weed? Because we can go and-“

“No, we need to do this now.” Annie spoke over Butcher, and you noticed a line of worry on her forehead, along with Hughie’s nervous fidgeting. Though Butcher didn’t seem plagued by an anxious tell, he relented to Annie faster than you’d ever seen, and alarm bells went off in your head.

“Annie,” you bit the bullet, asking softly. “What is the ‘this’ you need us for?”

She gave you an apologetic look. “Trial run.”

“Trial run?”

“We’re giving you a test, Love.” Butcher said with a smirk. “See if your little experiment is even viable. Maybe take out a player in the process. All depends on if you and him,” he jerked his head to Soldier Boy. “Do your jobs right.”

“I don’t need your little ‘test’ to know if I can do my job.” Soldier Boy snapped.

“Last time you failed,” Hughie muttered.

Frenchie nodded in agreement. “In a spectacular manner, yes.”

“Because that bitch and that pussy stopped me.” An angry scowl was thrown at Annie and Butcher, who returned it and grinned widely back respectively.

“You were going to kill a kid,” Annie said coldly.

“He shouldn’t have been in the line of fire.”

“The line of fire? Do you hear yourself? Do you really care about others so little that-“

“I’d do it again,” he snapped back, unbothered by Annie’s disgust. “You don’t get to ask me for help and get mad when I do.”

You gave Butcher a pointed look. “Aren’t you glad you listened to me?”

Though all you got in response was a grunt from Butcher, Soldier Boy’s eyes shot to you. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You returned his glare, steeling your own eyes to match his interrogating gaze. “We’re removing the ‘kill a kid’ option from your choices. You want to know why we’re stuck here? Because you fucked it last time, and we won’t let you fuck up again.”

“You won’t let me?” He sneered, leering at you coldly. “You don’t let me do anything, Sunshine.”

If the “Sunshine” thing continued to stick, you might have to throw yourself off a roof. But you didn’t flinch, just tilting your head mockingly. “You wouldn’t need a shock collar if you hadn’t bit the hand.”

“I wouldn’t bite the hand if it hadn’t tried to kill me.”

“Nobody tried to kill you, Mate.” Butcher interjected. Soldier Boy’s anger switched back to him with fists curling at his side, but Butcher kept talking with a bored drawl. “You shouldn’t have bloody fucked up.”

“And, like I said,” you shrugged. “It won’t happen again.”

“If I see the shot, I’ll take it. Whether you like it or not.”

Looking into his eyes, you believed him. No doubt fogged your brain that, given the opportunity, Soldier Boy wouldn’t hesitate to take out Ryan Butcher with Homelander. Part of you, the angry and bitter part still trapped underground, understood that. But you’d see Ryan once, from afar, and he had looked so young. You didn’t have to imagine his fear or touch him to understand what it was like. For your life to change abruptly and without reason, to have to sprint to keep up with your new one. Soldier Boy had volunteered for this life. Ryan hadn’t. You hadn’t.

So, holding Soldier Boy’s gaze, you made your voice clear and steady. “You don’t get to take the shot until it’s clear. Ryan will be out of the picture before you even see Homelander.” You turned to Annie. “What’s the test?”

“Head-popper.” Butcher answered for Annie with an odd look at you. His voice carried the usual light and oddly joyful tone he used when discussing murdering supes, but his eyes on yours were quieter, with less manic vengeance than you’d seen before. If you didn’t know better, you’d call them thankful.

“Head-popper?”

Hughie jumped in at your confused frown. “Neuman.”

“Oh,” you paused, looking over Hughie’s worried face. “We’re going after Neuman?”

“Who the fuck is Neuman?” Soldier Boy asked with a reluctant grumble. You had picked up on his consistent annoyance with new things after you’d found him screaming at the microwave three days ago, and not knowing new people didn’t seem to be any different.

“She’s a supe who can pop people’s heads like balloons.” Frenchie gestured in imitation for effect. “It’s disgusting.”

“And she’s the VP elect, which would put an ally of Homelander in the White House, one step from the Oval Office.” Annie said pointedly, giving Frenchie a look. You offered him a small smile over her head. Though the demonstration hadn’t been helpful, watching his hands fly around mimicking Neuman’s powers was undeniably entertaining.

“She's dangerous,” Hughie added. “But she’s not a bad person. We don’t want to kill her, just remove her powers.”

“What do we need her for then?” You didn’t have to look to know Soldier Boy’s accusation was directed at you. You bit your tongue, trying to ignore the way the words seeped into your skin.

Because he’s right. A cruel whisper said into your ear, and the itch on your skin began to feel like a rash. You were saved from the plague of your thoughts—the urgent feeling to fall prompted by almost nothing—by Butcher.

“If you think you’re going anywhere without her, Governor, you’d better get used to being wrong. She’s there for the same reason she’s here. So you don’t go postal.”

Soldier Boy gave you an unreadable look as the rush of your heart in your chest slowed from Butcher’s words. You turned away from him, but you could almost feel his eyes through your skull as you looked at Butcher with a blank face.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, praying it would be simple, with as few people as possible around and, ideally, in the middle of a desert filled exclusively with fire extinguishers.

“MM and Kimiko are doing recon on one of Bob Singer’s rallies. Frenchie will create a distraction for the secret service, and Neuman’s personal detail is going to suddenly disappear-“

“Disappear?” You interrupted Butcher with raised eyebrows.

“Keep your panties on, they’ve been bribed. Once she’s isolated, Soldier Boy’ll blast her, and we can all go home confident in your little gambit.”

You hesitated, trying to imagine the last political rally you’d seen. Group of people in tight groups, electrical wiring for microphones, speakers, and lights. Gates and closed doors, hallways leading out onto streets. “How are we going to isolate her?”

“Me and Butcher will work on that,” Annie said, almost reaching for you with a reassuring pat, but thinking better and jerking her arm back. She opened her mouth, an apology certainly on her, but you raised your hand to cut her off.

“How long until we leave?” You asked. Maybe they’d say ‘three hours’ and you’d get to talk to someone who didn’t think swing music was sonically viable for a bit.

Hughie checked his watch. “Ten minutes ago.”

“Ago?” Your eyes widened.

He gave you a sheepish look. “We thought it would take less time to get you.” He turned to Soldier Boy. “Your suit’s in the van. I can bring it out-“

“I can change on the way.” Soldier Boy grumbled, ignoring Hughie’s start of sputtering protests. “Let’s get this over with.”

———-

Much to his annoyance, they had forgotten Ben’s shield, and nobody would let him change in the van. He tried several times, only to be met by a chorus of groans, shouting, and swearing. He had listened to their complaints only because she had started giving him a look he recognized as a flag for a storm of uncontrolled fire. No hot disgust or sparks of rage, only a cold and quiet, almost glassy-eyed stare. Her heart steady but her breathing too fucking controlled to be natural, measured so equally that it sounded mechanical. So, because he figured she would only become more bitchy to live with if she incinerated her alleged “friends”, Ben stopped trying to pull his shirt over his head.

Once he did, the van fell insufferably silent. The edged pleasantries and conversation he’d overheard during Butcher and his band of Assholes arrival had ceased save for tense questions and hushed conversations. Ben didn’t fail to notice all the spineless avoidance and careful words directed at them both. She, even after the foggy look faded, remained curled into a corner, trading small and toothless smiles with her team. More timid than he’d seen her before, almost like a scolded child as she looked around the van nervously. Her eyes watched the shadows as though Homelander himself might jump from them, the chew of her lip giving Ben a headache. The only words she spoke were a jab at Ben when he’d said something about political rallies post-election being fucking pathetic—giving him a lecture about American politics now heavily depending on something called “going viral”—only to fall silent once more after. Her team looked at her like a glass bomb, as if she was a delicate statue looming over their heads and not the vulgar, violent woman who slept down the hall from him. That woman infuriated him, testing his patience every time she opened her mouth, but this paranoid, skittish pussy of a girl was so much worse. So when the van halted and Butcher’s team began to filter out, he called her name. When she ignored him, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

“What the fuck!” She pulled herself out of his grip in a second, staring at him with anger. She glanced down at her arms, a look he didn’t understand crossing her face, before returning her attention to him. “Do not touch me.”

“I barely touched you,” he glowered, annoyance quickly flooding him. He had only brushed skin, with a light grip she had thrown off, there was no need to be so dramatic. “When I touch you for real, you’ll fucking know, Sunshine. And you’ll fucking beg for it. I needed to make you listen, you were fucking ignoring me.”

Her brows knit, and he heard the chew of her teeth on her tongue. “I’m not going to beg for anything, and I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“I said your name, and you kept fucking walking.”

“I didn’t hear you.” She snapped, but didn’t relent. “Speak up next time.”

She knew just as well as Ben did that they were both far from quiet, pussy-voiced fuckers. And while he definitely hadn’t yelled for her attention, it shouldn’t have fucking mattered. He’d seen her pick up his grumbled insults and mocking comments just fine over the past two weeks. “Bitch.”

“What do you want?” She asked with a sigh, ignoring his jab and looking at him as if he exhausted her just by breathing. “We have to go, and you still need to change.”

“You shouldn’t let them treat you like that.” He said, not hiding the contempt from his voice. He wasn’t going to skirt around his thoughts, lining them gently to help her fucking feelings.

Her body tensed, her limbs looking as if they’d locked into place. “Like what?” Ben heard her swallow as she answered, her voice not lost enough to make her sound clueless to his words.

“Like you’re a child they have to coddle. A problem they have to deal with.”

She stared at him, her glassy-eyes returning. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, cunt-face.”

Ben snorted. “They don’t treat you like the bitch you are. They always use that sweet, pussy voice, like they’re talking to a fucking puppy, when they say something to you. They’re always all fucking pouty when they look at you, pussyfooting around so they don’t make you sad.” He gave her a mocking grin, hoping the next words landed like a bullet. “They treat you like me.”

It had clearly worked, as the van had grown hot, and her eyes were clearing as her heart began to pick up. Ben felt an odd feeling cover him as he heard it, almost familiar and sparking pride in his chest. She wasn’t a jittery shell anymore, she was going to try and kill him. It made his grin grow genuine, and the van grew only more heated, the air waving around them.

Her mouth opened, and Ben hoped whatever came out of it would be vile and crude.

“Hey!” She turned her head and clenched her jaw as someone called her name from outside, the van rattling as a fist banged against it. “We need to go!”

The door opened to reveal the Cocksucker, whose face grew quickly red, a bead of sweat falling from his hairline, as he was blasted with a quickly dying wave of heat.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning from Ben as the heat dropped further. “Coming.”

Cocksucker gave her a worried look, his gaze flying quickly to Ben, but just nodded and stood aside for her to move past.

As the door closed and Ben began to change, he listened for their soft, tense words.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?” Cocksucker’s voice was nervous and gentle, like being suffocated by one of those fucking fluffy blankets Ben had seen in the empty bedroom of the safe house.

“No, he just grabbed me to talk. And you don’t have to keep asking me that. I’m fine, and it’s not as helpful as you think it is.” Ben frowned at her voice, the malice from it drained entirely in only a few seconds, replaced with only a tired hollowness.

“Grabbed you?! Like, he touched you?”

Having anticipated Cocksucker being more interested in the “talk” part of her sentence, or the shit that sounded like it was about feelings, Ben's brain rattled over Cocksucker’s word, his tone of panic looping in Ben’s head. He spoke of Ben’s touch as though it were a plague, and not something many people would kill to feel. Ben almost burst out of the van to say just that, but froze when he heard her answer.

“It was fast, I didn’t feel much. Even if I did, it doesn’t matter. I can’t go the rest of my life without touching people.” Her voice had a finality to it, and Ben could almost picture her downturned lips and wrinkled brow.

“You touch us when you heal us.” Even Cocksucker’s voice didn’t sound sure of his response.

“It’s not the same, and you know that.”

There was a momentary stall in their words, and Ben took the opportunity to emerge, securing his belt as he walked to the door. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see, but Cocksucker looking pathetically around, anywhere but the woman as she curved into herself, wasn’t it. She held a white-knuckle grip on the sleeves of her jacket, her thumb running up and down in small movements. They both turned to him as the door banged open, and Ben caught the empty look behind her eyes before her indifference slipped back into place.

“Did you hurry me just to sit around like pussies, or are we going to start fucking moving?” He asked, the air feeling too uncomfortable to sit in.

Cocksucker blinked, glancing at his watch. “We have a few minutes until they arrive, but I guess it can’t hurt to be vigilant-“

“Arrive?” The woman’s eyes widened, and Ben saw smoke curl from her hold on her jacket. “They’re coming here?”

Cocksucker nodded. “It’s a high-security escape exit-“

“It’s a fucking street, Hughie.”

“That’s used as a high-security escape exit.” After a moment of searching the area, Cocksucker pointed a few yards down, at a large door set against brick. “Neuman will come right out of there, and her guards will close her out here, where Soldier Boy will blast her.” He paused, glancing at Ben, before looking back at the door and taking small, cowardly steps away from his spot between them.

“It’s a public area, anyone could walk past! What the fuck were you thinking?!” Her voice was hushed and agitated, and Ben had never seen her face lose color at that speed before, had never heard her heart stutter and jump as if trying to escape her body.

“It’ll be fine,” Cocksucker’s voice wavered, giving them both a nervous look. “It should be fine. MM said it would be fine.”

“You heard him, Sunshine,” Ben gave her a wink, adding a half-cocked smile when she didn’t even return him with a dirty look. “MM said it would be fine. And have some fucking faith in me, I’m not a fucking monster. I won’t blast any running pussies except for this head-popper broad.”

“You don’t even know what she looks like.” Her tone wasn’t quite the vicious mockery he was used to, but it was better than the apathetic, empty voice she’d been using. She was rolling on the balls of her feet, speaking without looking at him, her eyes moving restlessly from the door to the end of the street. “And I don’t believe you.”

Ben just shrugged, allowing the silence to hang. The wind was picking up, whistling through the chill of winter air, making the heat around them, emitting from both Ben and the woman, all the more obvious. Despite the biting cold, Cocksucker had taken off his stupid puffy jacket, even stepping back further from where they stood, with Ben in the center of the street and the woman off to the left. Despite her slowly stepping further and further back, her back now almost against the wall, Ben could feel her watching him, hear her heart continue its new and erratic beat.

“How long now, Hughie?” Her voice was raised to carry over the wind, though it hadn’t lost that stupid fucking weakness. Cocksucker, thank fuck, didn’t get a chance to respond with pathetically comforting words, as only one skipping heartbeat after she spoke a shrill fire alarm sounded.

“I’m assuming that’s your stupid French fuck's plan?” Ben asked dryly. “Start a fucking fire? I thought you pussies were all about minimal damage.”

“He probably just pulled the alarm.” The Cocksucker’s answer lacked any confident assurance. “And I think we’re just against needless murder.”

Ben almost started to rant about their so-called needless murder being a mighty high horse for a group of people who had manipulated him just as much as Vought, who’d been willing to help him kill all those backstabbing pussies from Payback so he’d help them. About how their stupid fucking moral purity complex seemed to adjust perfectly to aid them, and maybe he wasn’t a fucking angel, but he was strong and powerful—something they fucking needed—man, and he wasn’t a pussyfaced liar about what he was, what he did. The words died on his tongue, though, as hundreds of frenzied footsteps reached his ears.

“Fuck!” he growled, turning around and pointing at Cocksucker. “You fucking pussy.”

Cocksucker gave him an idiotically confused stare. “Dude, uncalled for.”

“She,” Ben pointed to the woman, whose heart was beating impossibly fast and looking on with a bloodless face. “Was fucking right. This is a stupid plan, because unless your head-popper walks like a human centipede, it’s not going to be just her that I fucking hit when that door opens.”

Cocksucker only gaped at him like a fish as the footsteps grew louder, annoyingly unsure stutters escaping him, and just as Ben decided it might be good to slap the idiot out of his daze, the woman stepped forward.

“We need to move, Hughie. Now.” Her voice wasn’t steady, her whole body was tensed and hyper, but it held a determination Ben almost admired. “We can’t be here.”

“He- he could be fucking lying, or wrong-“

“That’s not a risk we can afford to take.” She cut off Cocksucker’s doubts, and Ben found himself surprised at her defense of him, even if it could barely be called that. Her hands were smoking once more, but she had firmly planted herself in the middle of the road, eyes turning sharply to Ben. “If people see you, any element of surprise over Homelander would be lost. We need to fucking move, you need to get in the fucking van now-“

The door banged open, and the streets flooded as hoards of people in star and stripe-themed outfits flooded the road. Everything became so loud, and that rapt, snapping sound in Ben’s head started to spread through him, spurring the drum in his chest. They were finding rhythm so fast, everything fading as Ben tried to slow it. But there were screams and shouts, and everything was getting further and further away from him while carving into him all the same, so though Ben could hear the sounds of metal clanging and shouts of his supe name, he couldn’t think anything past the beat beat beat, until he lost it all at once.

As his vision grew clear with his head, Ben expected to see shattered bodies and bloody walls. Instead, all he saw was the woman and fire. Her face was flushed red, her eyes crazed, and her clothes had become charred with holes as the fire surged from her into a barrier, cutting them off from the crowd. Cocksucker was yelling her name, urging them both to return to the van and leave, but as Ben moved, he glanced back to see the woman frozen and heard her heart as if it were his own. The wall was growing wider and shooting high, Cocksucker wouldn’t shut the fuck up about moving, but her eyes had squeezed shut, unresponsive to anything but the growing flames.

“We need to fucking go, now!” Ben turned to see a large man he vaguely recognized barreling down their side of the street, his face twisted in anger. Butcher, Starlight, a small woman he remembered fighting, and that French prick followed him, all loading into the van as the large man stopped beside Cocksucker.

“I told you he’d fucking blow it,” the man said, giving Ben a disgusted look, so flawlessly revolted Ben wouldn’t be surprised if he’d fucking practiced in the mirror.

“Hey, I didn’t fucking blow it, you pussy-“

“You said that Neuman would come out of here, that it would just be her!” Cocksucker, much to Ben’s shock, cut him with a high voice and a wave at the wall of fire. “That’s way more than just her! Is she even there?!”

“No,” the man said gruffly. “Neuman saw Butcher and figured out something was up. She’s long gone.”

“Fuck!” Cocksucker yelled, running a hand through his hair.

“Oi, we can go over how MM fucked up later,” Butcher leaned out from the van. “We need to go before she sends Homelander.”

“How I fucked up? You’re the one who disobeyed me and blew our cover-“

“What’s wrong with Madame Anomaly?” The French Prick appeared at Butcher's side.

Cocksucker glanced at the woman, calling her name before turning to the large man Butcher had called MM. “She absorbed Soldier Boy’s blast. I think it got her stuck.”

“We don’t have time for this. Get Soldier Boy in the van, I’ll take care of the Anomaly.” MM repeated the French Prick’s words, and Ben realized they were, for the first time, using the woman’s supe name.

“You heard him, Gov. Get in the bloody van.” Butcher’s words were clearly directed at Ben, but as he climbed into the van Ben saw Butcher’s attention locked on the woman.

MM had moved closer to the woman, a move Ben deemed more fucking stupid than brave. If she had “absorbed his blast,” as Cocksucker said, he wouldn’t recommend any non-supe be anywhere near her. MM seemed to realize this himself at the last possible second, taking a pathetic, stumbling step back with a pause. He and Cocksucker exchanged a look, something passing between them that Ben didn’t understand, before Cocksucker leaned down to grab a pebble from the road. Ben watched as he shakily shook out his arms, wound up, and tossed the pebble at the woman.

It was a terrible fucking idea, Ben didn’t have to be Einstein to know that, but the chain reaction that played out still managed to go worse than he might have guessed.

The woman whirled around, her eyes blazing, with a roar sounding from her chest. Fire shot from the wall directly at Cocksucker. In almost slow motion, Ben watched her face become painted with horror as she recognized her target, a different, fearful sound leaving her. She reached an arm out, her heart seeming to falter, and barely redirected the flames before they hit Cocksucker in the chest. The blaze just grazed Cocksucker’s arm, passed the van clear of anyone else, and hit the building with a boom.

The moment the bricks caught fire and the ground began to shake as the building crumbled, the woman's wall of fire fell. The woman herself remained upright, but only barely as MM shouted her name and she started to stumble to the van. Cocksucker was hauled in by Starlight and the French Prick, the former fussing over his burnt arm—Ben had seen worse at Herogasm and nobody whined about it—and Cocksucker waved her off. The woman pulled herself in, ignoring Butcher’s outstretched hand, and the door closed behind her. MM appeared in the driver’s seat, and as the engine started everyone fell into a heavy-breathed silence.

Through the ride, Ben watched the woman open and close her mouth a million times, returned to her fetal position in the corner but watching Cocksucker with a strained face. Her hands tapped against her still-smoking jacket, reaching out hesitantly before she pulled them back into herself. No words were spoken, not even the anxious whispers of the ride there. Ben felt relief as the van stopped, MM climbing out and opening the doors to reveal the exterior of the safe house, grateful for any excuse to leave these stupid, sniffing pussies to wallow in their failure.

MM led Ben and the woman to the doors, opened them by leaning oddly at the doorbell, and gestured for them to walk through. The man followed them in, shutting the doors behind him with a rough push.

“If we failed the test, I am not doing that fucking shit again.” Ben grumbled as MM turned around from the now-shut entrance.

“Butcher told me about the fucking mess you and him made in here.” MM ignored Ben entirely, speaking to the woman as if he wasn’t even there. “A team cleaned it up while you were gone, and Mallory will send more groceries tomorrow night. I saw a picture, it was fucking gross. I’m only doing it once, because I don’t want a new disease to develop in here. You’re an adult, you should take care of this place by your goddamn self.”

The woman looked at her feet, humming a small acknowledgment. She didn’t look up as she spoke. “Is Hughie going to be okay?”

MM sighed. “The kid will live. I’ll look at him when we get back.”

“I could help-“

MM cut her off with her name. “He’ll be fine. We’ll make sure of it.”

She gave another nervous hum, and Ben jumped in.

“Can you answer my fucking question-“

“We’ll let you know what our next steps are after we talk to Mallory and Singer. This wasn’t good, but it’s not the end of the damn world.” Once again, MM ignored Ben. It was starting to feel personal. Before Ben could push further, MM reached a hand out to rest on the woman’s shoulder, right over a hole in her sleeve. Her head shot up with her heart, but the panic in her seemed to evaporate just as soon as it appeared. Her name was gentle as MM spoke it, eyes locked with hers. “You didn’t fuck up. You did your job.” She nodded slowly. “It’ll be fine.” With those last words, he exited the building, leaving Ben and the woman in the hall.

“What’s his fucking problem?” Ben grunted, half directed at the woman, half to just say it.

She gave him a flat look. “You killed his family.” Before he could come up with a clever response, honest or dodging the annoying feeling of guilt forming in his throat, the woman turned from him and walked away.

———-

You were so tired. Your bones ached, oddly cold in a way you hadn’t felt in a while, your skin crawled with feverish chills, and when you closed your eyes, you could see the flames graze Hughie and the building turn to dust. As MM’s lingering calm he’d offered you faded, all you felt was tired. Worthless. A liability. You had fucked up, just as much as Soldier Boy. Maybe more so, because he had PTSD, even if he would deny being a “hung-up pussy”. He had lost control because he’d been tortured by Russians, you’d almost killed your friend and definitely destroyed a rec center because you’d been startled. You just wanted to sleep, to deal with the inevitable fight about groceries in the morning, running on more than quickly expiring adrenaline and caffeine pills stuck in your throat.

You made it to your room, changing into one of the pajama sets folded in your drawers, hoping someone mentioned that the allegedly fire-proof wardrobe you’d been given apparently wasn’t strong enough for the full force of your fire combined with Soldier Boy’s nuclear explosions. A shame, you’d liked the pants you’d chosen for the mission. You’d live without the jacket, though. You’d hardly pulled the shirt over your head when the door ripped open, a still suit-clad Soldier Boy standing at your door.

“What fucking happened to you?” His question was blunt and confusing as he entered your room, remaining near the door but over the threshold.

Your body was too heavy to fight with him right now. There was no tense prickling on the bridge of your nose, only the throbbing stab of a headache. “Go away, Soldier Boy.”

“All of you have a fucking thing. A weird, sad reason to whine around and pretend you’re better than me.” He didn’t budge, but rather leaned forward. “What’s yours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You said I killed MM’s family. Butcher’s always pussying around about Homelander stealing his girl. Cocksucker mentioned something about that fast asshole doing something as well. I’m not sure what the French Prick bitches about, but I’m sure it’s something.”

“First of all, you did kill MM’s family.” You really don’t want to do this right now, but maybe he’ll give up and fuck off. A fruitless wish, a small part of you knows, but you have nothing left to push back with. “And Homelander didn’t ‘steal Butcher’s wife’, he raped her.”

“Right.” Soldier Boy watched you, his expression unreadable in the shadowy room. “Those are all fucking things. So tell me what yours is.”

“I don’t have one,” even as you speak the insistence, it sounded fake and hollow.

He takes another step forward. “Yes, you do. I saw how you froze, nobody without a thing locks up like that. I heard Cocksucker ask you if I ‘hurt you’. Just for the record, Sunshine, I may not be a Boy Scout, but I’m no fucking rapist.”

“You’ve tried to sleep with me thirty-three times.”

“And I’ll blow your mind when you realize how much you’d love it, no sooner. What’s your fucking thing.”

You stare at him, the intensity in his voice throwing you off. He’s insistent, comfortable in your room but standing at his full height, attention fixed entirely on you. That impression of dissection has returned—the feeling as if he’s trying to pick you apart for him to play with. “Why do you even care?”

“Because maybe if you tell me, I can kill what supe fucked up your pretty little head and you’ll be less of a bitch.”

You can’t stop the snort that escapes you. “What a selfish fucking cunt reason.”

He shrugged in something that could’ve been an agreement. “Maybe.” He falls silent, but doesn't leave.

You collapse to sit on the edge of your bed, staring ahead as you rub your temple. “Please just go.”

“No.”

You look at him, not caring if he sees the desperation in your eyes. “Can this not wait six hours for the morning?”

“No.”

“Do you know any words but no?” You mutter under your breath.

You didn’t miss his annoyed humph. “Oh, just fucking tell me.”

“No.” It was your turn to snap. Your exhaustion was becoming lined with bitter childishness, and you didn’t care enough to try and suppress your urge to sneer at him.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re an idiotic, self-absorbed, sadist asshat who wouldn’t know empathy if it started sucking his dick.” You mocked.

He grinned. “Ok, now name my bad qualities.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I’ll start guessing,” he took another step forward, now almost directly before you. “Did that red-headed lesbian steal your puppy?

You frowned up at him. “Maeve was bisexual.”

“Did Noir take credit for a college project?” He ignored your comment, leaning down with a mocking smirk.

“Trust me, I got all my dues in college.”

“Did that gay-for-Jesus blond steal your boyfriend? Did the fast asshole that stole Cocksucker’s girl break up with you? Did water-boy eat your goldfish?”

“I’ve never met Ezekiel, A-Train actually murdered Hughie’s girlfriend, and The Deep famously doesn’t eat seafood, he fucks it. But by all means, keep going.”

Soldier Boy blinked. “He fucks it?”

“Yep. It’s gross.” You shrug. “Are you done?”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

You give a toothless smile. “Not until you get all your guesses out.”

“Oh?” There was unquestionable surprise in his voice at your relent, only making your fake cheer grow and your immature anger fully overtake you.

“I want you to feel like a real fucking asshole when I tell you.”

His face split open with a grin. “Well then, did the Twins kick you out of Herogasm? Did that bitch, Crimson Countess, overshadow your big debut? Did a Z-lister get more attention than you from the Vought pussies?”

You just raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms as Soldier Boy continued until the list of supes ran dry. As the last jeer left his mouth, he mirrored your face of cold amusement.

“Well?”

You leaned back, watching him closely as you spoke. “Homelander kidnapped me, kept me in a dungeon, raped me in an attempt to make more mini-Homelanders, and, after you returned, started experimenting on me to try and recreate the V used on you.”

A small shock rushed through you after you spoke. You hadn’t said any of that out loud, not fully, since you’d escaped. You danced around it with Butcher and his team, with Mallory and the CIA leaders, always picking and choosing parts to omit so nobody would look at you with pity and fear. It hadn’t worked, they did anyway, but there had still been control over it. Up until this moment, nobody had known why Homelander had done all those things to you. Everyone had seemed happy to chalk it up to him being a fucking psychopath, not anything deeper. Certainly not attempting to create a small army of additional Ryan Butchers. Small things were still yours, flashes of hunger and warped sounds remaining in your head, but everything else you had just told him.

Why did you do that? A voice hissed as the high from your petulance faded. Why did you let him win? Why did you give him a weapon to use that could hurt you?

But looking at him, he didn’t appear to be a portait of self-satisfaction and heartless triumph. He was staring at you, scanning you as though the scars Homelander left would be visible on your bare legs and arms. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t weak or coddling, but angry.

“He kept you locked up?”

You nod, part of you getting ready to fight him over something.

“He hurt you? To try and recreate me?” Your repeated nodding only seemed to inflate whatever was happening. “Did it hurt?”

Your arms and face started at that, an uncertain feeling spreading through you. There had been no reverent tone as Soldier Boy had asked the last question, no sadistic for affirmation. But you didn’t know what he wanted to hear. Why he even wanted to know. But an involuntarily honest answer escaped you. “Yes.”

He stared at you for another second before he opened his mouth, only to close it without making any sound. Abruptly, he whipped around and began to leave, giving you only one more indecipherable look as he closed the door behind him, leaving you on the edge of your bed, alone in your room.

You lay down slowly, half expecting him to storm back in at any moment, but minutes passed, quickly turning into a half hour, and your body sat at the edge of collapse once more. Soon it was unbearable, and you lay down, your racing mind being forced to a halt as sleep pulled you under.

Your sleep, as had been the case for a while now, was haunted by nightmares of blue eyes and yellow, fluorescent lights. You woke up in a cold sweat, and took a long, needlessly warm shower before forcing yourself to leave your room around 9:30. Despite your lingering fatigue, no part of you wasn’t restless as you walked down the stairs. Your body tense and ready to run, your head spinning with hypotheticals and lining up words you may need—that feeling under your skin creeping up your spine and fluttering in your gut. But Soldier Boy wasn’t in the living room or the hall. You poked your head in the dining room, hoping to avoid the minefield of the kitchen, but it was empty, the plastic chandelier lights off, the table occupied only by a vase of wilted flowers. You moved to the kitchen, ringing growing in your ears, but he wasn’t there. You turned to walk away, continue your search, but double-back as it hit you.

Nothing was in the kitchen. It was empty. Of Soldier Boy, and of the groceries MM said would be delivered.

You wandered in slowly, watching the counters as if they might start to glitch and flicker, revealing hidden produce and dirty dishes. But, leaning over the sink, there was a single plate, soaking in water that was dotted with crumbs. Slowly, you moved to the refrigerator, slowly opening it as you glanced around the room. Your eyes widened at the sight inside. Milk, drinks, and produce had been placed inside, disorganized and haphazardly. There was a jar of mayonnaise in the fresh drawer, along with a box of pasta on a side shelf, but the fridge was full. You moved quickly to the pantry, which had been sorted in a similar fashion, but filled. And when you opened the last cabinet, you saw a piece of paper stuck under a jar of peanut butter.

I know I did a shit job. Clean up if it bothers you, but don't bitch to me about it. And tell Mallory to get smooth peanut butter next time, or I’m not doing anything for her but killing Homelander - Ben

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insomniakisses · 1 year

Note

Could you write about how aemond would act if he found out that the person he's been sneaking around with got pregnant

Pleasant Surprises

Character: Aemond Targaryen (HOTD)

Reader type: g/n, AFAB

Warnings/notes: swear words, mentions of sex, hinted sex, pregnancy, aegon being an ass, your rhaenyras daughter u can choose adopted or not.

Taglist: @introverbatim, @neobanguniverse,

Part 2

The obnoxious sound of Aegon’s drunken cheering and stumbling disrupted the prince from his late night reading. Rolling his eye he went in search of his brother hoping to spare a maid or two from him.

Opening the door of his chambers he was met with a very disgruntled Alicent trying and failing to get Aegon to bed. Seeing the pleading look on his mother’s face he nods grabbing his brothers arm and helping drag him away.

“Its.. amazing… news… tru-ly won…derful” his brother snickers.

Confused, Aemond takes a look to his mother who seems disinterested rolling her eyes and shaking her head in response to her eldest sons mutterings.

“What is wonderful, dear brother?” He forces out, attempting niceties hoping it will help in his brother granting him an answer.

“Y/N, our dearest older sisters slut of a daughter,” Aegon snarks out, smirking when his mother inhales sharply and he feels a low rumble get stuck in his brother’s throat. “She’s pregnant, I heard her discussing it with the maesters. “

Aemond’s body freezes his mind going straight to the countless nights he had spent in your chambers, the night when it seemed the only comfort he could find was in you. And how a few weeks ago that meeting turned into something a little more intimate. Both of you needing a little more comfort, something more. He found himself flushing at the thought.

——————— T H A T N I G H T ———————

“I can practically hear you thinking” he muses, turning the page of the book in his hand.

He was not expecting the pillow that made contact with his face a moment later. A shocked chuckle escaping he grasped the pillow making an effort to move slow as he git closer and closer to where you sat on the bed. Enjoying the stifled giggles you let out in response.

He knew how easily he could spook you waiting for you to get used to his slow movements then in a swift motion he had pounced playfully hitting ur face with the pillow. Relaxing in the happy laughter you release.

“My prince! How unbecoming of you to attack a lady!” You remark at him he smirks and rolls his eyes as he pauses his assault for you both to catch your breaths.

Only now does he realise how close you are, his body pining yours down softly noses almost touching. A blush escapes on his face, matching yours that he had failed to realise.

“My lady…” he trails off feeling your hands undo his jacket, pushing it off of his shoulders. “Y/N, if you don’t stop-“ you don’t let him finish pulling him closer by his belt.

He lets out a deep groan, reaching down to unbuckle his pants and reaching to pull your night dress up and out of the way.

“Your sure?” He asks almost unsure that you really want to be with him in such way but you simply nod pulling him into a soft kiss as he lines himself up pushing into you softly.

———— E N D O F F L A S H B A C K ————

“Mother, arrange a meeting with my father the king and Princess Rhaenyra” he rushes out, dropping his brother without a care as he runs off to your chambers.

Entering without knocking freezing when he sees your mother and daemon talking to you. The former confused at his rude entry and the later with his hand on his sword ready to escort him out.

But he stands there frozen looking at you in a way he has never seen before, politely he nods his head at your mother and step father informing them there is a meeting with the king and queen consort. He steps to the side to let them leave.

The second he hears the door shut he moves yo you wrapping his arms around you and nosing at your head.

“Aemond!” You exclaim, “what are you doing?”

“Is it true? Are you with child, my child?” He asks his eye full of hope causing your gaze to soften as you nod softly. Smiling when he falls to his knees kissing your clothed stomach.

“Marry me.” Its more of a demand than a question, while you know he’d never make you do so you also know that you haven’t a choice in the matter really. Your heart swells at the idea of marrying the man you love. Your mind forgetting just how much your families dislike each other even if just for a moment.

Part 2? 👀

7/5/23 - part 2 coming soon!

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones house of the dragon #hotd #got #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchel x reader

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Text

The witty & uncanny pt 3 (finale)

Doctor!yandere OC x reader x mafia!yandere OC

Summary: Stuck with two yanderes, your life is now turned upside down. You're kept asleep and your body is breaking down. The yanderes have won.

Warnings: yandere duo, drugs/medicine, kidnapping, restraints, bruises, blood, "humiliation", “infantilization”, mentions of sexual intimacy, changing readers clothes when they're unconscious, throwing up, following reader to bathroom, washing reader, open ending, indication of reader dying(?), unhealthy behavior, toxicity, reader breaking(?), indication of Stockholm syndrome/giving in.

Word count: 5.8k

Part 2 the outtakes

You run the quickest you can, only hearing your own heartbeat in your own ears. You’ve never been this terrified in your entire life. The gun is still safely tucked away into the pocket of your black hoodie. Your legs are aching badly by now and soon enough, you have to stop to rest. Despite all the adrenaline you’re pumping in your veins, you’re still human. With a quick look around to make sure that you’re alone, you sink down with your back against a tree. You feel for the gun and sigh out, relieved that it's still there. You’re unsure if it is going to help you in this twisted situation, but you’re going to try your best. You can’t do more than that.

“Y/N!” Silas says.

You look around, seeing him stand a few meters away. In panic, you shoot up on your feet, but your legs refuse to move further. All you want is to run away, but the sight of him scares you to your core. But you know you have to flee before he wins again. He can’t win again, can’t get what he want. You pick up the gun in a shaking hand, hoping to see him scared … but all he does is smile. A nostalgic, almost fatherly smile.

“My favorite gun, I’ve missed it”, he says calmly and lifts his dark eyes to you. “But I’ve missed its new owner even more.”

“Leave me alone”, you warn him with make believe courage, “or else I’m going to shoot you.”

Silas lifts a black eyebrow. “Shoot me?”

“I shot the doctor.”

Silas smiles wider and takes a step forward. You force yourself to stand still with your head high. You can’t show how terrified you really are. He’s like a demon, he feeds of off your fear.

“I must be a bad influence on you, my little thing”, he snickers, putting his hand over his heart. “I never wanted you to take after me. It’s not safe for you. You’re my precious little darling, you shouldn’t run around with a gun. Give it to me and I will take you home safely.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You really think that? You don’t think I have taken measures to make sure that you’re leaving with me?”

You're about to turn around and run when someone comes up behind you locks their arm around your waist. With a surprised yelp, your back gets pressed into a taller man's build. You squirm around and manage to catch a glimpse of the blonde doctor’s face behind you. You freeze and look back at Silas who’s grinning ear to ear. Less than a second later, a sharp pain from a needle shoots through your neck.

"Sleep tight", Dr Kry whispers.

You wake up in the same room you escaped from weeks ago. The only difference? Both your wrists are secured to the railings of the metallic bed by what looks like belt buckles. You start to wiggle your hands in hope of them slipping out, but whoever’s tied you has made sure that you’re not going anywhere.

The room is foggy no matter how much you blink. You wish you could rub your eyes, but your hands won’t move.

You try to speak, but you break out in coughs. Your throat is drier than a desert.

“They’re awake”, Silas says.

“Good”, Dr Kry answers.

“They don’t sound too good.”

“Just a side effect from the drug. They need to drink some water.”

You gasp, seeing the doctor move towards you with a paper mug in his hands. The closer he comes, the more you fight against the restraints. If he put drugs in your neck that easily, who knows what he could have put in the water?

“Be careful”, Dr Kry whispers and sits down on a rolling stool next to your bed. He helps you sit up before placing the paper mug to your lips. “Drink a little.”

You shake your head frantically.

“It’s just water, Y/N”, Dr Kry reassures you and takes a sip himself. “See? Harmless.”

"I don't want anything from you."

You start to squirm against the restraints again. You start to move your legs and manage to kick the paper mug out of his hands. The water splashes over his legs and your blanket. Dr Kry sighs heavily and for a second you’re scared that he’s going to do something to you. You shouldn't have acted so impulsive. Instead, he stands up and wipes his blue overalls.

“Seems like you have everything in control”, Silas snorts.

“As if you could do this better”, Dr Kry says and rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I know I can.”

Silas picks up the paper cup, walks into the bathroom and returns. You watch him carefully, studying his every step as you involuntarily shrink. You know very well what Silas is capable of and what he does when he’s denied anything.

Silas walks over to you, standing right beside your body. You force yourself to keep your eyes on the clock on the wall, to ignore his presence. Silas leans down to your ear.

“Either you drink this voluntarily or I’m forcing you to”, he whispers.

His hot breath fans your ear in an uncomfortable, animalistic manner. You shrink and swallow, nodding unnoticeably. Silas holds the cup to your lips gently and you open your mouth, letting the water in. Dr Kry watches in amazement how you swallow every single drop of the water. Silas smiles smugly and throws the paper cup in the trash.

“See, doc?” he purrs and puts his hand on your head, scratching your scalp. “I know how to control our little beast here.”

"Unbelievable", Dr Kry scoffs.

You finally turn your head away, being done with his embarrassment. You look down, noticing something.

"Where are my clothes?" you ask in horror.

Sometime during your involuntary nap, at least one of them changed you out of your black hoodie and jeans to a flimsy hospital gown.

"Your clothes are in the backseat of my car", Silas answers calmly. "Since you like to run around the town like a madman, I thought that if you want to do it again, you'll have to look like one as well."

Your mouth falls open "I-I want my clothes! You're striping me off of my individuality!"

"We're keeping you safe", Dr Kry says and grabs his keys. "Now, I'm going down to the cafeteria to get you something to eat. Any requests?"

"If you think I'm stupid enough to eat it-"

"I take that as a 'no', then."

With that said, Dr Kry leaves the room, locking the door behind him. Silas chuckles.

"That cheeky little bastard doesn't trust me", he says, eyes on the door. "He thinks I'm going to steal you away the very second I get you alone."

"Why wouldn't you?" you question.

Silas turns his dark eyes to you. "Because I gave my word to him. Unfortunately."

"So? You haven't kept your word earlier."

"Of course I have."

You scoff. "Like what? Name one time."

"I swore that I'd get you back." He tilts his head. "Didn't I hold that promise very well?"

You don't answer. You have to physically bite your tongue from spitting something out that you'll have to pay for dearly later on.

Dr Kry returns with a paper container.

"I got you meatballs", he says. "I hope that's fine."

"I'm not eating that", you mutter.

"I think you are. I don't think you've forgotten that your hands are a bit occupied — because those restraints seem to hurt — and if you want something, we have to do it for you … which means that we decide if you eat or not. Not you.” He holds the fork to your lips. “Now, open your mouth.”

You turn your head away.

“Don’t be a brat”, Dr Kry says.

“I don’t want to eat that!” you whine. “I don’t trust you!”

“I haven’t done anything to it, Y/N. Open up, please.”

Your stomach growls and you sigh, giving in. You open your mouth slightly, just enough to let the food in. Dr Kry smiles proudly. A string of brown sauce runs down your lips and he catches it with the fork before gently placing it into your mouth again, just like one would do with a baby. You cringe.

“I think our drooly baby here needs a bib”, Silas chuckles from his chair.

His embarrassing comments always ruins the mood. You pull yourself away form the food again and Dr Kry sighs, turning his head to the gang leader.

“Are you serious?” he hisses. “I just made them eat. You’re no help.”

Silas holds up his hands in front of him innocently, but his eyes sparkle with mischief. Dr Kry turns back to you and picks up a new spoonful of mashed potatoes and meatballs. You hesitate while glancing at Silas, waiting for him to make another comment.

“Don’t mind him”, Dr Kry says. “Just focus on me, okay?”

You move your eyes to the doctor. He sighs at your teary eyes.

“Does the restraint hurt?” he asks softly, caressing your left wrist over the belt-looking thing.

You have barely been able to feel the pain from the leather bands holding you down, but they do sting. You nod to his question, although it’s not the reason why you’re crying.

“I will remove them”, Dr Kry promises. “But I’ll have to do something else instead. We don’t quite trust you yet.”

“What are you going to do?” you whisper resentfully.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll see.” He holds the fork to your lips again. “Open up again, please.”

You comply this time. In silence, you manage to eat the entire container full of food.

“Now you should take an afternoon nap”, Dr Kry says.

“I’m not a child”, you spit.

“You sure do act like one”, Silas says, raising one of his dark eyebrows. “Running away, throwing temper tantrums … shooting people.” He stands up from his chair. “If you want to act like one, we’ll treat you like one.”

“Until you start to act like an adult”, Dr Kry adds. “Until then, you better believe that we’ll keep on treating you like you’re five. Now, time for a nap.”

He helps you lie down again. You refuse to close your eyes, refuse to let them out of your sight. They don’t talk much to each other. Silas is sitting in his chair with his phone out and Doctor Kry is by his desk, filing paperwork.

You want to scream when you feel the need to go to the bathroom. For thirty minutes, you try suppressing it. Asking to go feels more humiliating than Silas wanting to give you a baby bib.

“I need to go to the bathroom”, you say lowly.

The two of them look up immediately.

“What did you say?” Dr Kry asks.

“Bathroom”, you repeat shortly.

“Absolutely. I'll help you.”

He stands up and walks over to the bed. You breathe out a sigh of relief as the restraints disappear from your arms. Quickly, you sit up and massage your sore wrists. There’s clear marks after the leather bands, a bit of blood as well. Dr Kry takes your hands in his, inspecting. He hisses.

“We’ll have to put bandage on that”, he says. “You shouldn’t have moved too much.”

Silas walks over to you to inspect your wrists. He twists and turns to see every angle before placing a kiss on both marks. You flinch, ripping your arms back in shock.

“Come now, Y/N”, Dr Kry says and puts his hand on your back. “Let’s go to the bathroom.”

“T-Together?” you question.

“You could hurt yourself. There are things in there you could use to harm yourself with. Im not letting that happen.”

Damn him and his professionalism.

You sigh heavily, giving up, silently relieved that it’s not Silas. Dr Kry follows you into the bathroom, standing by in silence. He doesn't give you a spare glance, staying as professional as he is. You wash your hands and sigh at the marks in your wrists.

"Let's get that patched up", he smiles.

"This is humiliating", you say weakly.

"It's just a precaution. I can't let you hurt yourself."

You show your wrists to him, eyebrows raised.

"That is a different case", he says.

A harsh knock can be heard on the door.

"Don't try anything, doc", Silas warns on the other side. "When are you coming out?"

Dr Kry massages his nose bridge with his index finger and thumb, sighing heavily. He unlocks the door and walks you out. While Dr Kry walks over to his desk, Silas walks back to his chair with his phone. You glance towards the door. Whatever Dr Kry had in mind to give you to substitute for the restraints will be sure to keep you bedridden. This is your only chance. None of their eyes are on you. Quickly, you shoot towards the door with all the power you have in your body. As on demand, the two men let go of their things and hurry after. You manage to grab the door handle before Silas has grabbed your shoulders and Dr Kry your arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Silas asks, pulling you back.

"Let go of me!" you shout.

"Doc, whatever you had planned you better use it now."

Doctor Kry jogs over to his desk again and grabs a needle. You squirm in Silas’s grip and plead the doctor to put the syringe away.

"Stay still and it won't hurt as much", Dr Kry says, holding his hand on the base of your throat. "Deep breaths, count backwards from ten."

"No, please!" you scream desperately.

Silas covers your mouth with his rough hand and in the next second, the needle penetrates your skin. What feels like a stinging, burning sensation spirals through your body, effectively numbing it.

"Good job, almost there", Dr Kry praises. "Keep on breathing, you're doing great."

You feel your body growing weak in Silas embrace. He tightens his arms to keep you held up. You eventually stop fighting.

"Good job, Y/N, you did so well", Dr Kry smiles, removing the needle from your neck. "Silas, put them into bed."

Silas scoops you up like a bride on the wedding night and carries you back to your bed. Dr Kry starts to take care of your wrists and soon they're wrapped in white, comfy bandage.

After dinner — which consists of another meatball meal — they decide that you should go to sleep. But you refuse. They could do anything to you when you’re asleep. You don’t want to be moved again, you don’t want to be acknowledged.

“Y/N, close your eyes”, Silas says. “You’re just torturing yourself by being awake.”

“I don’t want to sleep!” you whine.

You wish that you could do something, but your body is feeling heavy and numb. You’re not sure where your limbs are or if they're held by one of the two men. Your body is already asleep, you should be too according to Silas and Dr Kry.

"Alright, I'm done with this", Dr Kry says after a long silence.

He stands up and walks over to the machines by your bed. You scurry to the other side of the bed with the little power you have left in your body.

"What are you doing?" Silas asks. "Don't do something without my approval."

"If Y/N won't sleep voluntarily, I'm going to help them", Dr Kry answers and lifts down a plastic mask connected to one of the machines by a tube. He pulls out a rubber band thats supposed to hold the mask latched onto the face. "Here, let me just put this over your nose and mouth-"

You cover the lower part of your face with your shaking hands. Your eyes glow with fear. They can numb your body until it's unmovable, but your eyes will always stay alert and alive.

"Y/N, please", Dr Kry sighs, putting his free hand over yours, about to pry yours off your face. "Just let me-"

You hide your face down in your arm. He stops and looks at you. Your body is trembling like a leaf swirling in the wind.

"Y/N, it's just anesthesia", he says comfortingly. "It'll help your mind relax so you can sleep. It's not going to hurt you."

He tries to move close again, but your crying halts his movements.

"Please …", you whisper weakly, shaking your head. "Please don't …"

Dr Kry sighs heavily, looks at Silas and then places the plastic mask on your stomach in defeat.

"Alright", he says. "I'm not going to force you. If you want to use it, just hold it over your mouth and inhale the gas."

He returns to his desk. Silas is about to stand up, but a particular strict gaze from the doctor makes him sit down again. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. Sometimes you wonder if Silas is the one behaving like a child. After all, he throws tantrums, runs away from problems and shoots people. But if you said that out loud, you'd spend a month in his basement.

You stay awake for another hour out of spite, but you can feel how your body wants the sweet prize of sleep. You try to shut your eyes and drift of to sleep, but all the worries and thoughts about what they could do to you when you're out is stopping you from actually falling asleep. Your head is pounding with fear and minute by minute, you're slowly drifting to insanity.

You glance at the mask and hesitantly lift it to your face, making sure to cover both nose and mouth. Carefully, you give in and breathe the strong gas into your lungs. It doesn't take long until your head clouds up. The mask slips out of your hands and your head rests against the pillow.

Dr Kry looks up from his papers and sighs out in relief. Quietly, he moves over to you and picks up the mask, pulling out the rubber band to wrap around your head. The mask stays in place over your face.

"How long will that work?" Silas asks and stands up.

"It'll work for as long as we keep the mask on them", Dr Kry says. "We can make them sleep for as long as we want."

Silas fixes a strand of your hair that has been caught by the rubber band with a gentle smile.

"Are they usually this difficult?" Dr Kry wonders, raising a blonde eyebrow.

"Yes", Silas says. "That's why I've managed to develop a technique. You can't be soft with them, you have to be strict and force them. Otherwise they'll refuse and fight. Like today."

"No wonder they hate you."

Silas picks up the gun he stole back from you, placing it under Dr Kry’s chin. The blonde man doesn't react.

"They don't hate me", Silas growls. "Don't make me fucking shoot you."

"Are we back to this?" Dr Kry sighs, nodding his chin down on the gun testingly. "I have told you were to happen if you shoot me here. I wouldn't test my luck if I were you."

"You're such a clever thing, aren't you? God, you piss me off."

Nonetheless, Silas puts the gun back in his waistband. Dr Kry looks down at his phone, looking annoyed.

"I have to go help another doctor with a surgery, can you watch Y/N?" he asks. "Don't leave the room unless necessary and don't touch anything. Wrong button and you've hurt them."

"What will stop me from going through your drawers?"

"Your morality, I hope. I'll see you later."

With that said, he walks out and locks the door.

“‘Don't leave’, he said”, Silas scoffs and strolls over to your bed, lying down beside you. “How the fuck did he think I'd do that if he locks the door? My pretty baby, you are so precious, that pesky doctor doesn't know how to handle you.”

He knows you can’t hear him, but he finds it nicely to talk to you without you cursing at him in return. Silas smiles at you and pulls you closer to his body, hiding your face into his chest. He secures the rubber band in the back of your head with a small smile.

“Get the fuck of out the bed”, Dr Kry sighs as he enters the room two hours later. “You’ll break it.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I broke a bed”, Silas grins, pulling you closer to his chest.

Dr Kry grimaces. “Oh my God, be quiet, that’s disgusting.”

“Why? You’re a doctor, shouldn’t you be able to talk about those kind of things?”

“Do you ever just keep your mouth shut?”

“I could, but why not use my mouth for the greater good?”

“You’re not Superman, now get out of the bed.”

Silas sighs heavily and rolls his eyes. He starts to move out of the bed gently, making sure that you won’t get hurt. Before walking to the chair, he places a kiss on your forehead. With a smirk, he pets Dr Kry on the shoulder.

“Why so stiff, doc?” he asks amusingly, raising his eyebrows. “Haven’t you gotten laid in a while?”

“My sexlife is none of your business and yours is none of mine, so be quiet”, Dr Kry answers murderously cold and turns to his desk.

Silas smiles widely, almost like a school boy.

“You really like getting on people’s nerves, don’t you?” Dr Kry asks over his shoulder.

“No, just yours”, Silas smiles and sits down in his chair.

Dr Kry grits his teeth. “What an honor.”

Silas looks down at his phone, noticing a new message from his right hand man.

“Those stupid- … I have to go”, he growls and stands up, grabbing his coat. “Seems like I have to do everything myself! I’ll be back in an hour, don’t do anything to Y/N without my approval, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, just go”, Dr Kry says. “If it’s urgent, take the back door, there’s a special elevator for that.”

“Thanks, doc.”

With that said, he runs out. Dr Kry decides to sneak over to you and fix your blanket and mask. He caresses your cheek and sighs out in satisfaction. You look so sweet. So innocent. He touches the bandage on your wrists. Why did you have to fight so harshly? He doesn’t like seeing you hurt.

Dr Kry sits by his desk until Silas is back, an hour later, blood covering his clothes.

“What happened?” Dr Kry gasps.

“Shit happened”, Silas mutters. “Can I take a shower or something?”

“Yeah, sure. There are a towel in the bathroom and a bathrobe for patients. Wash the clothes in the sink and hang them somewhere.”

“Thanks.”

Silas walks into the bathroom and undresses. He thinks about you and the hospital. There’s nothing he’d like more than to bring you home and keep you in his bedroom again, but it’s not safe for you. It never was, but he had nowhere else to keep you. Here, you have doctor Kry to keep an eye on you when he has to work … and no one knows you’re here. Maybe he should keep you here? The doctor has everything necessary to keep you where they want you. Silas sighs and runs his hand through his wet, black hair. The water is hitting him in the face, but there’s something comforting about it.

He returns ten minutes later, wearing the white bathrobe.

“Do you think Y/N could stay here long term?” Silas asks.

“Yes, of course”, Dr Kry answers. “This room is mine, I can keep whoever I want in here for as long as I want.”

“Perfect.” He sits down by your bed, lifting your hand and giving it a gentle kiss. “Doc, if I pay for every medicine you need, could you keep Y/N safe while I’m working?”

“I’d do it even if you didn’t pay me.”

Silas smiles slightly.

Days go by, turning into weeks. You’re kept asleep for the most part, only woken up to use the bathroom, eat and wash yourself. You’re too drowsy and confused to do anything yourself. The two men take turns in helping your limp body. It’s an exhausting, dissociation feeling. You don’t know what time nor day it is when you wake up, and you certainly don’t know how long they’ve kept you asleep. You barely feel real. You’re starting to wonder if the real you is a small spider in the corner of the room, looking at the half dead human in the bed.

You’re sitting completely bare in the bathtub, hugging your knees close to your chest as Silas washes your hair. You don’t care about neither Silas or Dr Kry seeing your most vulnerable areas anymore. They’ve seen it all by now and you’re too gone to care. They’re keeping you alive, you’re grateful for that. Almost … a little too grateful. A guilty, shameful gratefulness. You should take care of your own body, two men shouldn’t have to do it for you! You’re ashamed of letting your life be controlled by them, but you’re happy that they’re taking care of your basic needs — at least. You sigh. You have to get a grip of yourself before it’s too late.

There’s a heavy feeling that has started eating you up from the inside. Something is building up in your stomach and is resting in the bottom of your throat. You want to burp, but you’re not able to, it keeps getting stuck. Every part of your body is aching, everything is wrong and on edge. You can’t take it anymore and finally allow yourself to break down in tears. Silas is quick to turn off the shower and turn your body to him.

“What’s wrong, little thing?” he asks worriedly, fixing your wet hair.

“I feel so sick”, you sob.

“It’s okay, it’s just the medicine. It’ll go away.”

He holds your wet face between his hands and kisses your forehead.

“I know it’s hard”, he says. "But you're my little champion, aren't you?"

Through your tears, you manage to nod. You have to be some kind of champion after everything you’ve been through.

Silas smiles reaches for the shower handle. "Are you doing fine? Should I continue?"

You nod, feeling completely out of it. Is this state making you lose your mind? Why did you kiss him back? Why are you answering him at all? Why are you taking his words to heart? Get a grip on yourself. He continues to wash your hair, now more touchy after your accidental affection. You curl up, sighing. Get a grip.

You're lifted out of the tub in a towel. Silas helps you dress in the bathrobe and makes you stay in front of the mirror while he dries your hair with the towel.

"Look at yourself, look how pretty you are", he smiles, placing a kiss in the top of your head.

You shiver and shake your head. After these last couple of weeks in a make believe coma and being stuck with these men you can no longer feel any empathy towards you. You’re disappointed in yourself for starting to cave in and you look half dead. How can you be pretty?

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” Silas gasps and hugs you from behind. “Nonsense, baby. You’re the most beautiful thing on this wretched planet. I wish you could let me show you how much I adore you.” He kisses your neck. “I’d make you feel so good, make you feel like the only person in the world. You’d never doubt yourself again, I promise. Please, will you let me take care of you?”

You shake your head. If you give yourself to him, you’ll never get out of his grip again and you know that very well. The very thought of it makes you sick to your stomach once again. You hold your hand over your weirdly aching stomach, frowning. Something’s creeping up your throat.

“What’s wrong?” Silas asks.

“I still feel sick”, you whisper. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

Silas acts quickly. He pushes you towards the toilet, forces you down on your knees and opens the lid and pulls your hair out of your face.

“Go for it, I got you”, he says.

As if on commando — and maybe his rough actions — you empty everything Dr Kry’s forced down your throat the last few days. Your body hasn’t been able to digest much correctly when you’ve been forced to sleep for hours on end. You’re not sure much in your body is working right for the moment being.

“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks worriedly and enters the bathroom. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“You’re the doctor!” Silas says. “Shouldn’t you know?”

“I’ll do an examination. When they’re done, take them out to the bed and I’ll take a look.”

Silas nods and turns to you, helping you.

“You’re doing good, Y/N”, Silas says. “Get it out.”

“It smells”, you whine with a grimace.

“You’re a champion, baby, aren’t you? You can push through.”

You whine tiredly. After a few more minutes of pure hell, you’re finally empty. Silas wipes your mouth with some paper and flushes the toilet. He carries you back to the bed where Dr Kry is waiting. You’re sat down.

“Okay, Y/N”, Dr Kry says. “I have some suspicions, but I need to test you.”

He performs a medical test on you to make sure that his medicine hasn't had too bad of an effect on you. He's counted on you feeling weak and heavy, but he couldn't have prepared himself for your digestion giving up.

"What's wrong with me?" you ask carefully, fearing the worst.

"I'm afraid that your digestion might need some help." Dr Kry reaches for the oxygen mask. "I'll figure something out while-"

"No, please don't make me sleep again!"

Dr Kry halts with the mask in hand.

“I think it’s the gas making me like this …”, you say. “Doctor, please don’t make me sleep again, I’ll be quiet and let you work.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them, doc”, Silas says, moving closer to the bed. “Just work.”

Silas sits beside you and lets you play games on his phone. He smiles gently everytime you manage to win a round of Candy Crush. Dr Kry smiles from his desk at your focused facial expressions. The two men relax, finally you’re showing some signs of giving it. You’re not crying, not fighting, just enjoying the moment by distracting yourself. They hope it can stay like this, but they both know all of this is on borrowed time.

“Do you still feel sick?” Dr Kry asks after a while.

“I’m feeling weird, but I’m not sure how to describe it”, you say quietly, suddenly shrinking again when remembering your awful situation. “It’s a bit better after I got to throw up … but I’m scared to eat. I don’t want to feel like that again.”

“I’m going to go get some tea for you to see if it can help your digestion. After that, I think you should go back to sleep.”

Dr Kry leaves the room. You turn to Silas with pleading eyes.

“Why do I have to sleep?” you ask carefully. “I don't want to. It’s so terrifying waking up and not knowing how much time has passed. I’m missing out on life …”

“When you’re asleep, you don’t have to feel any of the bad feelings or see what a horrible place we live in”, Silas answers, fixing your hair. “You’re safe from everything.”

You look down in your lap to get away from those dark, lovesick eyes of his. Silas slides over his phone to you again.

“Distract yourself, baby”, he says. “You’ll soon get some tea and then you’ll be feeling better. Keep on playing your little games. You look so cute when you focus.”

You decide to keep your mouth shut and do what he says. You manage to do two rounds of Subway Surfers before Dr Kry is back with a steaming cup in his hand.

“Here, Y/N”, he says and gives you the cup. “This should get your organs up and running.”

“I won’t throw up again, right?” you ask carefully.

“No, you won’t.”

You sip on it, taking your sweet time with a glance towards the oxygen mask. Will this be your life from now on? Kept asleep and only awoken when someone else wants you to be?

“Are you done?” Dr Kry asks after a while.

You look down in the cup. Empty. You gulp.

“No …”, you lie and pretend to take another sip.

“You’ve been sitting with that for ten minutes now. If you’re not done with it, it’s mostly likely ice cold by now.”

“When I’m done, you’ll make me sleep …”, you say. “So if i don’t finish it you can’t make me.”

“You little brat”, Silas laughs. “You’re so cute.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep, Y/N?” Dr Kry asks. “You’re not having to worry about anything, you can just relax. We’re waking you up when there’s nothing bad happening.”

“It’s not fair”, you whisper, shaking your head.

“Life’s not fair, peach”, Silas says and stands up, grabbing the mask. “Time to nap, little thing. Don’t worry, we will be here to protect you.”

You want to fight back, want to protest, but your body has given up. You know that there’s no use. They’ll get their way no matter how much you disagree. The mask gets once again placed over your face.

“Such a good patient”, Dr Kry praises as if he’s read your thoughts. “Letting us do whatever we want to you.”

You send him a gaze you intend to be a glare, but your head has already fogged up. Silas helps you lay down and the last thing you feel before everything turns into that familiar yet terrifying pitch blackness, is the soft pillow against your back. Silas tucks you in, making sure that none of your limbs are in any uncomfortable position. He sighs, stepping back. The two men look at each other with fear in their eyes, both knowing that this won’t work forever. Today was only one sign of the damage they do to you. Your body will fully break down someday, and that day might be the day they’ll lose you forever. But for now, they’ll keep you in the land of dreams where nothing can hurt you — not even you.

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