#but i completely intend to finish it before the end of the month and i dont think it will be difficult to do so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taexoxosgf · 5 months

Text

FORMULA 1

PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader

WORDS 3.5k

SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.

WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol

NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb

You spot Mark across the airport track.

Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.

Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.

You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.

You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.

ML: Enjoying the view?

ML: I know I am

You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.

ML: Come here.

You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.

ML: Baby don’t be like that

You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving

You: Bye

Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.

People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.

There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.

There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.

Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.

You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.

Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.

The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.

You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.

“Leaving so soon?”

You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.

“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.

Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.

All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.

You know what this means.

I don’t even want to think about it.

There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.

You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.

Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.

“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.

‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.

You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.

His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.

As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.

The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.

Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.

You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.

“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.

You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.

“Since when do you like good girls?”

Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.

He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.

“I did until I met you.”

“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.

One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.

You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.

Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.

His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.

You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.

His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.

“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.

“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”

“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.

He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.

You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.

Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.

“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.

“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.

You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.

He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.

His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”

He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.

“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.

His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.

You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.

“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.

“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.

Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.

As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.

“Don’t tease, slut.”

“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.

As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.

“Spit on it,” he demands.

From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.

Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.

Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.

The feeling was literal heaven.

Oh, how you could never get used to this.

His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.

Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.

Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.

A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.

“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.

You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.

As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.

“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.

“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”

Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”

This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.

“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”

Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.

“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.

Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.

The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.

“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.

His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.

“Fuck.”

You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.

Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.

“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”

You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”

“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.

“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”

His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”

“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.

“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.

“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.

1K notes · View notes

monzamash · 1 month

Text

to be loved — carlos sainz

carlos sainz x you — “i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.” requested by @dancininseptember masterlist

The short stroll from your office to the apartment never really bothered you. In fact, you typically enjoyed the fresh air and the chance to enjoy the city you loved. But it was early February; rain was threatening the Spanish skies and the frost bitten breeze stung your already tear-filled eyes. It was a crappy end to an even shittier week, your energy wasted on people who didn’t deserve it.

You practically flung yourself through the door of the apartment and shed all remnants of the day – coat, beanie and scarf, all strewn haphazardly, and in that order, on the floor of your small entryway. It took every ounce of energy you had to kick off your heavy boots, each one hitting the wall much harder than you intended. Maybe it was an unconscious way for you to let out frustration, the scuff marks on the white wall a stark reminder of your last straw.

The smell of fresh bread and bolognese sauce hit you as you slunk down the hallway, your tummy grumbling on instinct. You hadn’t eaten since yesterday, a terrible habit you had fallen into lately and Carlos had noticed. He was home more during the cooler months, easily picking up on your little habits that both endeared and worried him. So he made sure, while he was close to you, that you came home to a warm meal every night – because looking after you was his calling in life.

“That smells incredible.”

Carlos briefly glanced over his shoulder and gave you a bright smile before turning down the stove and grabbing a washcloth to clean his hands. You loved him like this; soft and relaxed, in his element. The kitchen was his playground and you remember the sigh of relief that left your lungs when he told you he loved to cook on your first date, because you weren’t particularly gifted when it came to the pots and pans.

“Hope you’re hungry,” He sang, circling the island in the middle of the kitchen to say a proper hello to his beautiful girlfriend, “How was your day?”

A rigid sigh fell from your lips as you fell into his arms, the loving embrace triggering tears to spring to your eyes for the third time today. Carlos held you tight and brushed his hands down your back, comforting you through the sobs wracking your aching body.

“Ay, mi amor,” He soothed, “Breathe for me please.”

Carlos guided you through a couple of deep breaths, chests rising and falling together in synchronicity until your sobs subsided, air finally filling your lungs again. A tight squeeze around your waist brought you back to the man holding you in his arms, worried eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay as you pulled back and gave him a soft smile.

“I’m okay, I’m sorry.” You sniffled, head shaking.

Carlos tutted as he thumbed away the trail of tears from your face, “Do not say sorry, my love. Talk to me…”

Anger replaced sadness as you told him about how your sister had completely disregarded your feelings for the millionth time, accusing you of only caring about yourself while she’s all alone and stressed about wedding planning. Carlos has managed to get you to sit up on the counter beside him while he finished dinner, but not before pouring you a glass of red wine to nurse while you purged all the negativity from your day.

“She called me a bitch and then uninvited us from the wedding, which by the way I didn’t want to go too to begin with,” You huffed, hands animatedly flying around while he tried to keep up with the drama.

“And all I said to her was that work has been stressful and that us trying for a baby hadn’t been… fruitful, I guess. She flipped out when I said that because her dickhead fiancé doesn’t want kids and she thinks she can change his mind…”

You took a sip of wine and noticed Carlos' eyes rolling like they always did when the topic of your sister came up. He was as sick of her shit as you were, unapologetically scoffing at her selfishness. Making you feel bad when all you needed was someone to confide in was one thing, but lashing out on you was something he couldn’t stand by and watch. He knew he couldn’t do anything right now; maybe he would make a stern phone call tomorrow once the dust had settled.

So instead of getting upset, he put down the wooden spoon coated in the most delicious sauce you had ever tasted and nestled himself between your swinging legs. His warm chocolate eyes stared into your soul as he planted his palms on your thighs, tethering himself to you.

“You know I can take care of you, mi vida,” He said, voice deep and barely above a whisper, “No matter the problem, you won't need anyone but me, I promise.”

For the first time in weeks, you felt your heart slow down and return to a normal rhythm as Carlos pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. You softly moaned in unison and gripped the grey shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders, pulling him in closer – not that he had any plan on going anywhere.

No, all he wanted was for his girl to feel heard and to be loved because all he needed was you.

a/n — loved writing carlos again. inbox detox is still open !!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #f1 x reader #monzamashmasterlist #inbox detox

542 notes · View notes

villainousauthor · 2 months

Text

Hero continues to rock the wailing infant, trying to shush her. It's been hours, and still they haven't been able to get her to calm down. Nothing has worked, not a bottle, a diaper change, nothing.

Hero places their hand against her small forehead, checking for a fever, maybe. They feel so beyond their depth right now. Hero's barely slept the past day, and they're dead on their feet, eyes barely staying open.

"I wish you could just tell me what's wrong. This is so frustrating." Hero whines, still bouncing the crying infant.

"It's unfortunate, most babies can't talk." The familiar voice comes from behind, and Hero whirls around defensively to see Villain standing in the doorway of the nursery.

"What are you doing here?" Hero demands, clutching their child closer.

"You haven't come to fight me in months. I've sent out clear messages-"

"You mean constantly blowing up buildings and taking people hostage?" Hero interrupts, still holding their baby close to their chest.

"-but you never came. I was starting to think you died," Villain finishes eloquently. "I can see now that you've been a bit busy." They take a step closer, and Hero takes another step back, trying to keep distance.

This was bad. Hero very much intended that no one would know about their child, enemies especially. They could feel anxiety rising in their chest, clawing at their throat.

Villain eyes their movement before speaking again. "Shame, I would have sent a gift if I'd known. Who's the other parent?" Their eyes shoot back up to Hero's as they ask.

"No one. She's mine, her other parent is irrelevant." Hero says defensively. The baby continues to cry, face red.

Villain looks over the both of them, humming as they consider this. "So you're doing this alone. How long have you been up for?"

The question seems harmless, and yet Hero hesitates, still not trusting Villain. The way they ask though, seems simply curious.

"...A few hours now. I can't get her to sleep." Hero finally says quietly.

Villain steps closer again, this time slowly, as if to not worry Hero. "I can tell," They snort, but the words are soft, "You look completely exhausted."

"Jeez thanks-"

"May I try?" Villain asks, voice gentle. Hero looks at them like they've grown three heads. The very idea that Hero would hand their child over to Villain is so beyond ridiculous, that they can't believe they asked.

Vilain sees their expression and rolls their eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to harm her. I know you'd kick my ass if I even tried. I'm good with kids, and you look like you're going to fall over any minute."

They step even closer and lift a finger to the small baby, which she grabs with her chubby little hand. Villain chuckles at the sight.

Hero watches, eyes fighting to stay open. Villain is right, they do feel like they're on the verge of collapse any moment. Arms are heavy from continuously rocking the baby, legs feel like jello.

"Okay, you can hold her for a moment. But I swear to everything that if you do anything to harm her, your body will end scattered in tiny pieces across the country." Hero warns, their voice more deadly than it's ever been with Villain.

Villain simply smiles as they reach out for the baby. "I wouldn't expect anything less." They take her in their arms, holding her comfortably. Hero immediately collapses down into the nearby rocking chair.

They rock her in their arms like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hero watches on in surprise as she starts to calm down somewhat, though she's still fussy. The lack of wailing level crying is a godsend though.

"How in the world.." Hero asks, amazed at the sight.

Villain grabs a pacifier off the near by changing table, giving it to the infant. She accepts it easily and finally settles down.

"I told you I'm really good with kids. Plus babies just like me," They say as they look down at the infant in their arms with the most genuine smile Hero has ever seen, "Also have you considered that she might be teething?"

Hero raises an eyebrow before yawning suddenly. "Ah..no I haven't. I'm new to this, and I feel like I'm learning as I go along..."

"It probably doesn't help that you don't have any help either. Why don't you rest for a bit while I hold her?" Villain suggests, noticing how on the verge of falling asleep they are. "I promise I'll stay right here, and she'll be okay. You should get some sleep."

"I'm not so sure about that..." Hero replies, though their head is already starting to sag. "How'd you get so good with kids anyways?" They ask, their eyes beginning to flutter.

Villain chuckles quietly. "You don't get to unlock my tragic back story that easily." But Hero is already asleep, passed out over in the chair. Villain continues to hold the baby as they drap a small blanket over Hero.

#hero x villain #prompts #dialogue prompt #hero prompt #hero #original writing #villain #villain prompt #villain x hero #superhero #domestic fluff #fluff #cute #writeblr #writers on tumblr

657 notes · View notes

aureatchi · 4 months

Text

⛇₊˚ .࿐₊˚✧ BUBBLES IN MY CHAMPAGNE, LET IT BE SOME JAZZ PLAYIN’ . . .OSAMU DAZAI

⟢ SYNOPSIS. the port-mafia was infamous for throwing glamorous holiday parties every year. not only were you attending this time, but you were also finally going to be introduced as the port-mafia boss’ pretty girlfriend! or…that was the plan.

of course, things never go according to plan.

a/n. merry christmas !! adding onto the xmas dazai fics jdjsjwn <3 this one’s vv chaotic.

info. fem!reader. pm boss!dazai. pm exec!reader. fluff, angst, pinch of sugg. there’s DRAMA. mentions of drinking. lil jealousy. dazai is a 💩. the pm is filthy rich lmao. pazenia is a made up country. wc. 3.4k

“Oh my.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

The brunette chuckled as he waltzed towards you. You saw him appear behind you through the sizeable full-body mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist as you finished applying your lipstick.

“It looks even better on you.” Dazai’s fingers wandered playfully, tracing the curves the red dress he gifted you hugged so well. The tailoring was so impressive—the dress could fit noone else but you. And indeed, it was made exclusively for you, for the largest and most luxe corporate event of the year.

It was the Port Mafia Christmas party. Everyone was required to attend, and plus-ones were allowed too, stirring even more chaos into the affair. You were a Port Mafia executive—of course you were going, but the night was going to be unique for another reason.

Tonight, the Port Mafia boss would confirm all the rumors…all the gossip circulating the past few months. He was finally making your relationship with him official in front of everyone.

As if everyone still doesn’t know.

Yet you were nervous. Keeping things an enigma actually worked in your favor—besides suspicious stares with muffled voices and jealous women, you didn’t have to worry about much. Dazai would take care of any problem. After all, you trusted him completely.

But now, everyone would know. You and Dazai had gone through all the downsides—you could become a potential target for any enemies, your name would rise even higher on the wanted list, and you could be stalked by frustrated, jealous men…honestly, you two were almost too hot for your own wellbeing.

Just almost, because “I’ll take care of it all. I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you, darling.”

He whispered those words into your ear, sensing your anxiousness as you continued to look at your reflections.

“Please don’t worry.”

He did not speak in his usual teasing, playfully amorous voice. The brunette’s face matched the seriousness of the topic you had both gone over multiple times, making sure that the other wanted to still go through with it. You both didn’t want to force the decision of your relationship upon the other—though it was Dazai who had suggested the idea, the choice rested entirely on you. He ensured you knew you could change your mind anytime you wanted.

And Dazai wished you could see that he truly, would go to the ends of universes to make sure you were safe.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I won’t,” you replied. “I’m only worried about you. I need to be by your side at all times to fight any bad guys that come for you.”

And girls. If you were being honest, you always felt a bit sick thinking about other women wanting him. Maybe this is why your nerves hadn’t backed you out yet…you wanted everyone to know their leader was indeed taken.

Dazai laughed more heartily than he intended to at the comment. He, the now Port Mafia superior commander, known even before as the Demon Prodigy, was being talked to in concern that he needed a sidekick to help him.

Though, he was also the same man whose mind was full of fervor for one girl. You giggled, seeing the apparent blush on Dazai’s face when you fixed his black tie. He was matching with you, of course—his red attire was the ruby scarf.

“Perfect,” you mused when you were done. “Wow, you’re handsome.“

“And you’re ethereal,” Dazai responded, putting on your coat. “Ready to go shock everyone?”

“As if half of the mafia doesn’t already suspect anything between us, Osamu,” you smiled.

“Hmm…you’re right.

“Of course they’d think I’d sought after the prettiest woman in the world.” A coy grin snuck back onto his lips.

…

It was evident your lover had good taste, not only in outfits. He chose to rent out one of the big hotels as the venue for the party—very fitting for the filthy-rich organization.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped out of the limo was the massive Christmas tree in the center of the hall.

“Woah.” There were at least fifty gifts under it already.

You noticed Dazai’s brows suddenly furrow as he, too, inspected the presents.

“Osamu?”

“Bella, remind me who this person is again.”

He picked up a present, showing you a familiar name.

“Oh!” He was the assistant under your wing. You two had worked together for years—you had built up a lot of trust and a friendship to have him in charge of some of your responsibilities.

“I see. Don’t mind that; I forget some of my men sometimes.”

You nodded, though you felt a bit unsure about his response. Regardless, you cast the thought aside.

What you didn’t notice was the way Dazai showed you the package. The present was from your assistant, but the name it was for was entirely covered by the brunette’s hand.

“Well, are you ready to go in?” Dazai asked, holding out a hand towards you.

“Yeah, I’m-”

“Dazai!”

It was Kouyou, another executive. She saw you and greeted you, too.

“My, you’re looking lovely today,” she chirped. “So you and the boss are dating.”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, better tell everyone soon,” she told the both of you. “Dazai, a daughter of a very infamous organization in Europe, is at this party as a plus-one. She wants to discuss a business proposal…‘as soon as possible,’ she said. It’s confidential, too; she only wants you. Do you have a few moments to spare?”

Dazai immediately turned toward you, to which you nodded at him. “It seems important, especially if she’s from Europe.”

“You’re sure?” Dazai asked. You were supposed to walk into the dining hall together to introduce yourselves as the power couple of the evening. “What about…”

“Yeah, the mafia is the priority. I’ll find you soon.” You were an executive, after all. The mafia existed to protect Yokohama City, so work should be an urgency.

“Alright,” he replied. He took another look at you—a singular, amber eye softened once he met your gaze. The other was hidden behind bandages, and so were the emotions of his heart. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling at the moment.

“Let’s go, big sis.” He turned towards Kouyou, who led him out of the room.

Now alone, not counting the guards, you glanced at the presents again, picking up the one Dazai had previously questioned you about.

Oh! Your assistant gave you a present. You found it sweet; your assistant hadn’t gifted you anything until this year. Now Dazai’s reaction made sense—perhaps he had thought you had a secret admirer or something. You giggled at his assumed jealousy.

…

You walked inside the dining hall by yourself, a large crowd already entertaining themselves inside. Everyone who saw you stopped to greet you—their executive, and you wished them a merry Christmas back with a friendly smile.

“Huh? So she’s not dating him?”

You turned your head the slightest, pretending to grab a drink while you instead eavesdropped on two employees you hardly knew. Thank goodness they weren’t the ones going out on missions to spy—they were terrible at not being obvious.

“I’m not sure. But that underground aristocrat from Europe that everyone knows has a crush on the boss showed up to meet him. That huge Christmas tree by the staircases is actually a gift from her.”

“Really?! So…maybe she was the boss’ plus-one? Now that’s wild. Everyone really had me believing he was seeing the executive.”

“Yo!” Your attention was suddenly pulled from their conversation.

“You good? You’re overflowing your cup.” You had poured too much drink, so liquid was running all over the floor.

“Shoot, I think she heard us!” you faintly heard behind you as the employees moved away.

“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry,” you responded to your assistant who had found you. He handed you a few napkins to clean your hands and dropped a few more to mop the floor with his shoe.

“You didn’t need to help, and thank you,” you said as you cleaned up, too, feeling bad.

“All good! Merry Christmas, by the way. How’s your evening going so far?”

“Good, thank you,” you responded, half-truthful. You needed to find somewhere to process what you had just heard. Even if they were only rumors…they bothered you.

“I saw you got me a gift in the lobby,” you added, recalling earlier. “I was surprised! You haven’t done that before, so I found it so sweet.”

“Oh yeah!” he replied, and you didn’t miss the pink that tinted his cheeks. “Who knows…I may have had a change of heart this year.”

You chuckled innocently. “Well, whatever the reason, thank you! I’m excited to see what you got.”

“Of course. I do hope you like it! Also, your dress. It looks good on you.” His voice sped up at his last comment.

“Oh, uh, thanks-”

That was really awkward. You gave him mercy, though…you hadn’t even told him you were in a relationship. So, you tried to say to him that it was your boyfriend, Dazai, who had the dress made for you, but you were cut off.

Dazai had finally entered the room, but he was accompanied by that noblewoman everyone was speaking about.

Wow, she was gorgeous. Her hair was in a perfect blowout, and she wore an emerald green dress that fit her like a glove.

And with each step Dazai and this new woman took into the hall to be regarded by everyone, your heart sank a bit more into your stomach.

What??

“You don’t look so well. Are you okay?” Your assistant paid no mind to the mafia boss’ new commotion. He was wholly concerned for you.

“Yeah. This drink tastes weird, but I can’t put my finger on what.” Yet, you took another sip. What was going on? You had never doubted Dazai’s love or loyalty toward you. Had you been so blind by your own to miss this?

Dazai didn’t even bother trying to search for you. And the way the lady’s arm touchingly clung around his infuriated you.

“He was seeing some foreign princess all along?”

“The boss always has to cause a scene with something new.”

“They’re kind of hot together, though.”

Now you really wanted to puke. You stared until the noblewoman’s eyes finally caught yours and dwelt on your figure briefly before turning toward Dazai and asking him something.

Dazai’s lips read, “Okay!” before a guard approached you.

“The boss is summoning all the executives to him,” he whispered in your ear, and you nodded, strolling over to him.

Fuck. You wanted to cry. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

You felt a bit better when the other executives—Kouyou and Chuuya showed up before you.

“Miss, these are the Port Mafia’s three executives.” He introduced you individually, not meeting your eye when he went to you.

You wanted to leave. There was no point in being here anymore. What you thought would be a cheery Christmas Eve turned out to be the worst night ever. It couldn’t have gotten any worse…

“And this is the Lady of Pazenia,” Dazai said, introducing the woman. “Our most important foreign guest tonight.”

“So, uh? I’m kinda confused,” Chuuya commented. “Mackerel boss, ya dating her or something?” He glanced at Dazai, the girl on him, and then you.

She responded for him. “We’re getting acquainted tonight, that’s all,” she replied smugly. Dazai chuckled. “Yes…we’ve communicated online a few times, but this is the first time we’re meeting face to face.”

What the fuck.

“Oh, uh, okay.” For once, Chuuya didn’t pester, didn’t tease anymore. Because he was just as startled as you. He, too, suspected that you were dating the boss.

“I’m sorry, will you please excuse me? It was nice meeting you, m’lady; I hope you enjoy your Christmas with the boss.” You didn’t even wait for a reply. You stormed off in the direction of your assistant. You were going to ask him to drive you home, and then you’d pack your things and then stay at a friend’s house for a few days to figure out what to do next.

Everything was crashing down like an avalanche.

But before you could get to him, the bastard’s subordinate stopped you.

“Akutagawa? Hi, Merry Christmas. Sorry, I’m in a rush-”

“Merry Christmas, miss,” he responded, moving in front of you again when you tried to shift over. “Aren’t you going to rescue the boss? Has your emotion clouded your rationality so much you can’t see things clearly anymore?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

You turned back towards the scene, and yeah—what you saw was your final straw. Akutagawa misjudged. Not even a glimmer of hope remained in you.

Somehow, they had ended up at the corner of the room. And lo and behold, Dazai and the Lady of Pazenia had ended up under the mistletoe, and many of the upper ranks surrounded them. There was even a Paparazzi.

You tried to push past Akutagawa, but he stopped you.

“Watch.”

Why? Did Dazai place him there to make sure you suffered through it all? This was so cruel. Tears welled up in your eyes as the room went quiet to watch.

“Oh! Silly me…how did I manage to get here?”

“I’m not sure…” the woman replied flirtatiously. “But you can’t break a tradition, boss of the Port Mafia.”

“I guess I can’t,” Dazai replied, leaning in. “But, can we make a deal, Miss?

“You can kiss me, but tell me where the real Lady of Pazenia is. The exact coordinates where you’re keeping her hostage. If there’s anyone kept in place to secure or torture her.”

And the crowd suddenly gasped. She did, too, and a hand flew to her mouth.

“Shit!”

About ten guards ran towards her, restraining her before she could do anything. Dazai calmly backed away, continuing to explain.

“The business proposal was crafty and would’ve led to our doom quite quickly. You’re trying to overthrow your own government. So, you devised a cover-up to get the mafia to help you, with a deal to help us on our end, but just like your original goal, you want our city’s government to fall into anarchy, too.

“An underground noblewoman. You are exactly that—quite literally.” Dazai sighed. “No, I’m not in a relationship with her, I…”

Dazai finally met your eye, and his heart immediately sunk seeing you cry.

“Oh my gosh,” he whispered, and he ran towards you, tightly embracing you.

You wanted to punch him, throw him away—something, but you were surrounded by half the corporate. There was already enough scandal tonight, you didn’t need to add any more.

“Hah, it’s okay,” you responded audibly, hastily wiping tears. “You’re a great actor, Osamu, really got me believing you were cheating on me for a second.” Words spurred out of your mouth—you hoped you wouldn’t regret it later.

Dazai’s grip on you tightened to silently show you gratitude before he turned to your audience. “Now that the problem is out of the way—Merry Christmas to you all.” A waiter handed him a glass of champagne, who had also gone around with multiple others to hand out drinks to everyone.

“And a special Merry Christmas to my girlfriend, right here.” He gave you a kind smile, and you tried your best to reciprocate your own. There were “awe”’s and “that’s so cute”’s about.

Dazai held his glass up towards everyone else’s before toasting with yours.

…

You stayed away from Dazai for the next hour. He respected your space for that long—in the meantime, you acted fine. You conversed with others, you laughed. Your assistant apologized for his comment on you earlier—“I was completely oblivious to you and the boss! I’m so sorry; I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You laughed it off, telling him it was okay.

“Hey, bella.”

Dazai had finally found you alone. You looked at him, facing the inevitable.

“I’m getting tired. Wanna sneak away with me?”

You hesitated. “Where would we go?”

“The drinks suck here, besides that champagne. I know Chuuya was definitely not in charge of this part.”

You had to agree with that one. You couldn’t even finish the glass you overfilled earlier.

…

Bar Lupin was surprisingly empty that night. The bar was Dazai’s safe place, his getaway. You were constantly reminded of his genuine, complete trust in you whenever he took you here.

“I’m sorry,” Dazai apologized as you waited for your drinks. “What I did was brutal.”

“It really fucking hurt,” you said, finally able to release your true feelings now that nobody else was around.

“I had to keep up the act to expose her. Her vulnerability was that…she had a crush on me? So, the most rapid way to gain her trust was to make her believe she had a chance. She didn’t know I was seeing someone.”

“You take acting too seriously. You’re the Port Mafia boss, not some goddamn movie actor. You couldn’t even…make eye contact with me? Give me a reassuring look or something?”

“You’re right. That’s no excuse.” He took a breath. He had actually messed something up. He could predict and do everything else flawlessly until it came to the people he loved.

He always screwed it up.

“I set aside our relationship for a mission. I’m really sorry, love. And I understand if it takes awhile for you to think through it all. The only thing I ask is for forgiveness.”

“I dunno…it kind of seems like you enjoyed it…”

That was a lie. You were just saying things out of spite now. You had rethought the previous events after recalling what Akutagawa had harshly told you without context—rescue the boss? Yeah, Dazai clearly didn’t enjoy it. He never touched the woman back in any way, and his word choice was very cautious. Except one line.

“Us communicating online? Yeah, I knew she’d just go along with it. I had to say that so Chuuya would stop pushing and blow my cover. Besides, you literally have my email login, darling. You see everything.”

“I really hate you sometimes, Osamu, you know?” you muttered as the bartender finally handed you two your drinks. You took a thirsty sip out of yours. You couldn’t even stay mad anymore.

“Is that your way of saying you forgive me?” he chuckled, knowing the mood was lightening.

“No. You’re just too…attractive. Like, why are you so hot? All the girls want you…I was actually quite relieved when you asked me if we should make things official so everyone could finally know that we belong to each other…”

Hah, if only you knew.

“You don’t assume I think the same? You almost pissed me off by hanging around your little assistant, too, belladonna. He clearly fancies you.”

You gulped, remembering his earlier compliment. “Don’t do anything to him—he didn’t know. He does now.”

“He better,” he simply replied. “And everyone else. There’s no excuse now—you’re the Port Mafia boss’ girlfriend.”

You felt like there were butterflies in your stomach. The protectiveness was attractive. You pulled on Dazai’s tie, reeling the rest of him towards you.

“And you’re my boyfriend,” you smiled.

To everyone else, Dazai was known as evil, suicidal, murderer, demon, saint. But to you, he was simply Osamu. Your boyfriend. And perhaps that’s what he loved most of all. Across universes, you would not fail him—not even Odasaku succeeded so highly.

“Are you going to kiss me, bella?” Dazai asked, the signature smile back on his face.

“No,” you teased, pushing him back. “I’m still mad at you. Nothing went according to plan.”

“Nothing did,” the brunette replied. “But isn’t that what’s so exciting about life? Life is unexpected, yet some good things can come out of it, such as…”

He revealed a piece of mistletoe in his hand, holding it above you two.

“Even if you’re mad, you can’t break a tradition,” Dazai spoke, swinging the plant back and forth.

You sighed before you both leaned in to kiss each other. Dazai pulled you onto his lap, and you kissed him even more feverishly. Your hands ran through his hair until the bandage around his head finally came undone, unveiling the rest of his pretty face.

You focused on his dilated, honey-colored eyes. Finally, they revealed what he was feeling. Comfort in having you in his arms again. In your warmth.

Everything felt too intense after that. He had started making out with you again, his hands were wandering you curiously, the dim lighting, the jazz instrumental, how tipsy you felt from the drinks…

“Let’s just go home.”

…

You were swaddled in Dazai’s arms under the bed's covers at home. So sleepy. Dazai promised that the next day would treat the both of you better—a peaceful Christmas gift.

“Let’s stop doing such large parties,” you said, looking up at the ceiling. “It just calls for trouble, to be honest.”

“Yeah…we’ll have a small houseparty next time. Everyone else can do what they want.”

You were gently kissed on the forehead before the brunette softly whispered to you. “Merry Christmas, belladonna. I love you.”

“I love you too, Osamu.”

dazai told me he’d kiss u if u rb this. rbs are cherished; they are ur christmas gift to me! <3

tags: @kissesmellow21 @osaemu @ruanais + @lovedazai @chuuyrr @anqelically (i think u guys would like this <3)

544 notes · View notes

castiwls · 22 days

Text

king of my heart - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'Drinkin beer out of plastic cups. Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff. Baby, all at once this is enough'

Requested; @nix-rose

Notes; tysm for the request! I think I might have gotten a little carried away lmao. Requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

You moved your wrist in a circle watching as the beer sloshed around the cup. Looking up from your cup your gaze settled on the man in front of you. A small smile grew on your lips as you watched him slowly drink from his own cup. You could tell by the look in his eyes that his mind was elsewhere currently.

Dean Winchester was a relatively new character in your life. You’d met him on a job a few months back and your relationship had quickly developed from friends into lovers. You’d always told yourself that you wouldn’t get involved with anyone in this way, your job was too risky and you knew you weren’t prepared to deal with the pain that came with losing a loved one.

But you’d thrown that all out the window the minute Dean Winchester had waltzed his way into your life. To say you’d been swept off your feet by the man was an understatement, in the short time it had taken you to complete the hunt you’d found yourself falling into his bed at the end of the day instead of your own.

“You okay?” You nudged his foot with your own, placing the cup on the table. Dean let out a small noise of surprise before he turned his attention back to you. “I’m fine sweetheart, just thinking.” He sent you a grin before taking another drink from his own cup. “Thinking about what?” You leaned forward slightly to capture his free hand in your own. “You looked like you were thinking quite hard.”

“About us. I mean are you sure you really wanna do this with me of all people.” He let out a quiet laugh squeezing your hand slightly. The look in his eyes was something you hadn’t seen before. It was vulnerable. He stared at you, his lip between his teeth. “I mean, I’m far from Prince Charming, i can’t give you that white picket fence.” He trialled off his gaze falling back onto the table as he picked up his cup and finished off the last of the beer.

You sat quietly for a moment as you processed his words. “What makes you think I want any of that?” You tilted your head frowning slightly. “Because…” The word came out harsher than he intended. Taking a breath he leaned forward, his face only inches from yours now. “Damn it… because it’s what you deserve alright.”

“But that’s not what I want.” You said softly. Pulling back you swung your legs over the bench moving to sit beside Dean. As you sat beside him he turned his body to face you, his hand finding yours again. “I promised myself that I was fine alone. That I didn’t need anyone but then I met you and all that changed. All that changed because, for the first time in my life, I saw a man that I could picture a future with.” You reached up to gently run a hand through his hair. “I don’t want anything fancy, I don't want a house with 2.5 kids. All I want is you.”

You heard Dean’s breath hitch slightly at your words. “You're enough,” you gestured to the room around you. “This is enough.” Dean was quiet for a moment before you felt him gently place a hand on your cheek. A small smile graced his lips as he simply stared at you for a moment. “I love you.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper as he spoke.

Before you had a chance to respond he leaned forward pressing his lips to yours. After a moment he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.” You whispered.

273 notes · View notes

girlgenius1111 · 5 months

Text

no one speaks to you like that

r deals with a cruel coach at the world cup. misa makes it better. feat. the girls finding out that their friends are together.

The door slammed shut behind him, and you exhaled a deep breath, collapsing back onto the bed. You'd never been more unhappy to have your own room than at that moment.

You'd stepped out of the bathroom post shower, just barely throwing on clothes, when you'd heard a knock at your door. You were hoping it was Misa, but when the door opened to reveal Vilda on the other side, you felt your heart sink. He had his characteristic scowl on his face as he stepped past you.

The following 15 minutes were what could only be categorized as verbal abuse. He went after everything; your skills, how hard you were trying, how fast you were, how you were "clearly not" following the meal plan he arbitrarily changed whenever he felt like it. You stood, completely still, looking just over his shoulder, taking it. You wouldn't argue, that never ended well. You didn't let yourself cry either, because he never appreciated tears. Instead, you let the words wash over you, and dug your nails into your palm.

You thought of Misa the whole time. How if she heard what he was saying she'd probably do something to get herself more than benched this time; maybe sent home. The last time Vilda had gone after you like this, he had made the mistake of doing it in view of Misa, who completely lost it at him. Now, she was unlikely to play the rest of the tournament, and Vilda seemed to enjoy screaming at you more than anyone else.

No one knew about the two of you, even if Vilda suspected. No one else had witnessed her reaction to his cruel words directed at you; everyone just knew she'd argued with him, and she would be riding the bench no matter how far we got. The division within the team was stark, and although Misa was a Real Madrid player, she mostly hung out with the Barcelona girls; with you. You'd gotten together a few months ago, and decided to keep it to yourselves, not wanting to deal with her club teammates finding another reason to dislike her.

When Vilda finished, you just wanted Misa. You wanted to wrap yourself up in her strong arms, bury your whole body in her larger one. You never felt safer than when Misa held you tightly to her. You knew that you should probably find Alexia or Irene and tell them what happened, but you didn't want to make a big deal out of it. You pulled out your phone, intending to see if Misa was alone, so you could go to her. You needed to get out of this room; the scent of Vilda's aftershave hung in the room like a fog, and it felt like it was suffocating you.

-Are you by yourself?

-Yes. Do you need me?

You could practically see the smirk lighting up the goalkeepers face as you read her response; you did need her, just not in the way she was implying.

-Can I come up? Vilda just left.

The little bubble that let you know she was typing appeared and disappeared a few times, before her reply came through.

-Dick. Yes, of course, please come up.

With that, you slipped your phone into your pocket, grabbing your room key, and headed out the door. You yanked your hood up, trying to hide the tears leaking out of your eyes. You walked down the hall, trying to keep yourself from crying until you got to Misa's room.

You heard voices coming from the direction of the elevator you were headed too, unmistakably those of Alexia and Jenni. Fuck. You had nowhere to go, and as soon as they saw you, they wouldn't let you out of their sight until you told them what was wrong. You had no choice but to keep walking towards them, turning the corner, hoping they'd be too wrapped up in conversation to notice you.

"Y/n!! We're gonna watch a movie in Mario and Ale's room, come with," Jenni called the minute she spotted you. You didn't know how to say no, so you said nothing, trying to walk past them.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Alexia asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop your movements. Again, you didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the ground. A gentle hand came to tug your hood off your head, before lifting your chin up. Your watery eyes met the older girls.

"What happened?" Jenni questioned, looking overly protective even though she didn't know what happened. She kept her hand under your chin, not allowing you to drop your gaze again.

"Nothing, I'm fine, I'm just going to hangout with Ona," you lied, trying to shake off their hands.

"What happened," Alexia asked, in a firmer voice. It wasn't mean, or harsh, but it still reminded you of the verbal lashing you'd just endured, and more tears were flooding your eyes before you could stop them.

"Vilda," you started, before a sob escaped your lips.

"Fucking hell," Jenni swore, pulling you tightly against her. "What did he say?"

"Come on, bring her to my room," Alexia said quietly, looking furious, realizing you weren't going to respond. Jenni maneuvered you down the hall, never letting go, through the door to Alexia's room, before pushing you to sit down on the edge of her bed. You wanted to pull your phone out and tell Misa that you'd been intercepted, but you couldn't do that without arising suspicion. Also, you couldn't really see clearly through the tears blurring your vision.

Alexia spoke a few words to Mariona, who looked equally as murderous as the other 2 girls, and you knew you needed to pull it together and make sure none of them did something stupid. They were all older than you, and were quite protective. It wouldn't be the first time they clashed with Vilda over him mistreating younger players, but with the semifinals coming up, you knew you couldn't risk anyone else getting benched.

The problem was that you were only getting more worked up, even as Jenni wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and began talking quietly in your ear.

"Whatever he said isn't true, I promise. You're an important member of this team, and you haven't done anything wrong," she told you.

You nodded, but the tears wouldn't stop. The embarrassment you felt was only making you cry harder. Alexia took a seat on the other side of you, placing a hand on your back.

"Jenni's right, you haven't done any-" her words were cut off by a frantic knock at the door. You knew who it was, even as the other girls exchanged confused looks. Mariona went to answer it, as Jenni and Alexia looked curiously after her.

No sooner had Mariona opened the door, than Misa's panicked voice was filling the room.

"Have you seen y/n? She texted me that Vilda..." She trailed off as Mariona stepped to the side, revealing your shaking form sitting in between your captains. The other girls watched as Misa's face melted from one of panic into one of pure adoration; one they'd never seen on her face before.

"Y/n, baby," she said, seemingly forgetting that you weren't alone. Your teammates exchanged looks, Mariona and Jenni mouthing “baby??” at each other, as Misa crossed the room, tugging you out from under the arms of Jenni and Alexia, pulling you into hers. They were just as surprised to see you wrap your arms around Misa, clutching tightly to her sweatshirt. Your tears immediately slowed as Misa held you tight, the feel of her around you calming you down instantly.

"I'll kill him," Misa said through clenched teeth, addressing no one in particular.

"Easy there, why don't you tell us what the hell is going on before you go kill him," Jenni said, glaring at Misa. Your Barca teammates had clearly connected the dots, and did not appreciate that you were clearly keeping a secret from them. Misa made to let go of you, make this more of a conversation had with you, rather than one spoken over your head, but you only tightened your grip on her, shaking your head into her chest. Her attention was, again, solely on you as she pulled you over to the other bed, tucking you under one arm as she sat down.

Misa was still gazing at you, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp as you emerged from her chest, wiping harshly at your face. Her hands pushed yours out of the way, ridding your face of tears much more gently than you had been doing. The simple gesture was so sweet, so intimate, and Alexia cleared her throat, drawing both of yours attention back to her.

"Well? How long has this been going on?" She asked, voice no longer the soft tone she had been using with you, instead replaced by what can only be described as her authoritative voice. Misa retreated to the rather quiet version of herself that most people experienced, and you spoke up. Still, her arm remained protectively wrapped around you and no one missed the way you leaned into her unconsciously.

"Since May,"

"And you didn't think you should maybe tell us that you were in a relationship with someone on the team? A relationship that appears to be pretty important to you?" Jenni asked. Her jaw was clenched, but she didn't look like mad Jenni, she looked like sad Jenni. You realized the three of them were not necessarily angry, but hurt that you'd kept this from them. You paused, unsure how to respond to that. In truth, Misa had asked to keep it to yourselves, but you didn't want to throw her under the bus. She had no such reservations.

"I asked her to not tell you guys. I didn't want anyone to know anything until I figured out how serious y/n was about me. And by the time I figured that out, we were at camp, and I didn't want to give my club teammates another reason to be... the way they are with me."

The other girls stared at the pair of you, somewhat stunned at the vulnerability just shown by Misa in admitting all of that. She was a reserved person, a private person, someone much happier to help her friends than allow them in at all.

"Well... that makes sense," Alexia said decisively. "We won't tell anyone."

Misa nodded once, a small smile gracing her lips, before she turned to look down at you.

"What did Vilda say?" She asked, eyeing you carefully. In response, you just shrugged, refusing to make eye contact. You absolutely did not want to discuss what he'd said in front of the rest of your teammates; you trusted them, but the things he had said were humiliating. Misa seemed to pick up on this, as did Alexia, as they quickly made eye contact, and Misa stood, pulling you with her.

"Let's go back to my room, yeah?" She asked quietly, and you smiled gratefully at her. Mariona and Jenni both voiced their disapproval at that idea.

"I have like 15 more questions for the two of you," Jenni protested.

"Yeah, what are we supposed to do, just let you go back to Misa's room all alone? We have a game tomorrow, girls." Mariona said teasingly.

"Alright, let them go." Alexia said, hiding a smirk at Mariona's comment. It really hadn't been that funny, but the way you and Misa immediately blushed, and looked anywhere but at your friends was amusing.

You and Misa walked out of the room, ignoring the suggestive jokes that Jenni and Mariona were making. You walked in complete silence to the elevator and up to Misa's room. You'd broken apart the minute you'd exited the room, and Misa longed to take your hand. Now that you were away from your friends and their teasing, it seemed the weight of whatever Vilda had said to you was settling back on top of you.

You allowed Misa to pull you into her room, nudging you to sit on the bed, as she took a seat next to you. You were distracted, caught up in your own head, only looking up at her worried brown eyes when she said your name softly.

"Are you okay?" She asked, feeling like she probably knew the answer. You shook your head slightly, leaning to lean more against the brunette. "Tell me what he said," she requested, and you sighed.

"More of the usual. I'm not playing hard enough, I'm not fast enough, not good enough," you paused. You looked up at your girlfriend, not sure if you should continue and tell her the worst part. She smiled encouragingly, a smile you only saw on her face when it was just the two of you. "He told me I need to start following the meal plan better, because 'it's clear' that I'm not," you finished quietly.

Misa's hands clenched into fists once again, knowing exactly how those words would effect you. She, more than anyone, knew that you struggled with keeping your habits around eating and working out healthy, and not letting them become obsessive. The goalkeeper reigned in her anger, though, realizing that it was clearly not what you needed from her.

She lifted your chin with one of her large hands, her touch gentler than you thought possible. "He's wrong, baby. You're having an incredible tournament. We're as far as we are partially because of you," she said earnestly.

"And yes, you aren't following his stupid meal plans, because he isn't a dietician, and you need to be careful with how you keep track of what you're putting in your body. You're doing what you need to do to stay healthy, and that is what's important."

You were still looking at her with so much doubt, as though you desperately wanted to believe her, but weren't sure if you could. Deciding that maybe words had taken her as far as they could, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours, hard, in what she hoped was a reassuring way. You met her with enthusiasm, relaxing into the kiss as your mouths moved in sync with each other.

After a few moments, she pulled back pressing her forehead to yours. You looked slightly dazed, and Misa bit back a smirk at the effect she had on you.

"You are beautiful" she whispered, "you are strong, and you are fueling your body in the way you need to, in order to do your job. And I am so proud of you."

Misa often shocked you with how gentle, how kind and soft she could be. She put on such a hard exterior, all harsh frowns and flexed muscles on the pitch. Off the pitch, she was only slightly less intimidating, opting often to remain quiet and listen, her hard expression only wavering when she was around people she was comfortable with.

She was so different when you were alone with her though, the severe expression that normally rested on her face melting away to soft lips that pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, and wide eyes that looked at you with so much love.

It hadn't started off that way; it had started as passionate, rough hookups. Slowly though, you wore her down. She couldn't get enough of you, and she eventually stopped trying to.

She was enamored with you, and you with her. Privately, she felt that you made her a better person, a kinder person. You felt like she had a unique ability to make you laugh when nothing seemed funny, and hold you together when you felt like you were minutes from falling apart. Like right now. She knew exactly what to say, what to tell you.

"I'll say something to him," she said quietly, and you pushed her off of you, sitting up.

"No, Misa, you can't," you argued. She looked determined, a familiar smoldering look on her face, one she got when she was getting ready to save a penalty.

"Baby, he can't speak to you in that way," she began.

"No!" you responded, almost shouting. She looked at you in surprise, startled to see an incredibly panicked expression on your face.

"Calm down, y/n-"

"No, you can't say something to him. Promise me you won't. Please," you interrupted, almost begging.

"Why? I'm already benched what else could he do?" she wondered.

"He could send you home, Misa. And if you left, I couldn't... I couldn't do this, not without you," you responded, looking at her desperately. Misa brought you back into her arms before responding, holding you tight.

"Alright, baby. I won't say anything. I'm not going anywhere, and you don't have to do this without me," she promised.

"Thank you," you murmured. The goalkeeper smiled at you softly, rubbing your cheek gently with her thumb. You still looked nervous, still upset, biting the inside of your cheek like you were thinking hard. She waited patiently, content to sit in silence until you were ready to say what was on your mind.

"I'm sorry they found out. I just kind of freaked out when I ran into them, and I wanted to find you but they were in the hall..."

"Don't worry about that. I don't care that they found out. I don't care if everyone knows i'm with you. I just care that you're okay," she told you. "Anyway, now that Jenni has probably told the entire team, I can stay in here tonight with you."

You leaned closer against her, more relieved at her saying she'd stay than you'd like to admit.

"But you have a big game tomorrow, and you need to rest. What can I do to get you to sleep?" she asked, knowing you were likely too anxious to be able to sleep right away. Again, you marveled at how well she knew you.

"Hmm," you said, scooting down the bed and rolling onto your stomach. Misa was looking at you adoringly, and you grabbed one of her hands, placing it on your back. She laughed in response, beginning to run her nails lightly up and down. You sighed happily, and she scooted down too, kissing just above your eyebrow, before resting her head on the pillow, continuing her motions. You were drifting off, but still, the thoughts of Vilda and what he'd said to you still bounced around in your head.

"Do you think he'll yell at me again?" you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open just enough to see the girl opposite you.

"No. I won't let him," she responded, sounding completely sure. You nodded, shutting your eyes again. You believed her, inexplicably. Her tone was so confident, and more than that, you trusted her. More than you'd ever trusted anyone before. You fell asleep easily, feeling completely protected with the strong girl next to you, watching as you drifted off.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso #mariona caldentey

655 notes · View notes

vanwritesfan-fiction · 9 months

Text

Wants and Needs

Pairings: Husband!Travis Kelce x Wife!Reader

Words: 866

Warnings: Talks of smut, making out, nothing too crazy

Everything Travis did today was making you horny. It sounds crass, but a lot of people don’t talk about how difficult it is to basically have a “Greek god” walking around your house, especially when you’re ovulating. You wasted most of your Sunday just watching him complete chores around the house, your core twitching every time he flexed his biceps, or you got a glimpse of his bulge in the tight shorts he wore around the house. You damn near orgasmed, a small moan slipping from your lips when he got out of a shower, a small towel around his waist just begging to fall to the floor.

Technically you could jump his bones at your discretion, and he was always willing and eager, except for on one occasion. Travis had few rules when it came to his job, usually going with the flow, but there was one he had never broken in all the time you had been together: No sex the day before a game. At first you thought he was joking, what man was going to say no to sex, but he was dead serious. He claimed that sex messed with his game performance, especially sex with you, and he didn’t need any distractions with the season going so well. Unfortunately for you, for almost six months out of the year, your libido was its highest when Travis’ rule went into effect.

You were at your wits end that night. You were helping Travis pack his bag for the game, giving your input on his game day fit. “What do you think about this one?”, he walked out of the closet wearing a short sleeve paisley print top, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his hairy chest, something you usually ran your fingers through when he was on top of you. You squeezed your thighs together, your wetness beginning to soak your panties. “Y/N?” Travis’ call out to you brought you back from your fantasy. “What’s going on with you today?” he questioned as he finished placing a change of clothes in his duffle bag. You wiped your brow, the sweat permeating as you denied your needs. “What are you talking about?”, you didn’t even try to sound convincing, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

“You’ve been eye-fucking me all day.” You let out a forced laugh when Travis wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You’re my husband. It’s in the vows, I promise to love and cherish you, and eye-fuck you around the house. Come on now.” You threw yourself back on the bed, covering your eyes with your forearm. “Seriously, what’s going on?”, Travis asked as he pulled you up from the bed, pulling you into his chest. You sunk down in his hold. “I’m horny”, you let out the tiniest whisper so Travis couldn’t hear you. “What did you say?” he leaned in closer, a smile creeping on his face. “I’m horny!”, you whined out, this time loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “I wish I could help you, but you know the rule. You’ve got a drawer full of boyfriends you could use, though”, your husband replied with a snarky tone.

“Don’t you think I tried that? It’s not the same baby, it’s not you.” You rubbed your hands up and down his chest, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, and he let out a groan. “Y/N, please” he let you go, walking back into the closet. You followed him, realizing you sounded like a brat. “Look, can we just fool around, maybe that will get my over the hump. No pun intended.” Travis grabbed you by the back of your thighs, lifted you up and carried you over to the bed. He climbed on top of you, his cross necklace grazing the tip of your nose as it swung above you. Your lips collided, Travis’ kiss deep and sensual, his hands roaming your body, sneaking underneath your shirt to cup your breast. His kisses trailed down the side of your face, reaching your neck, where he took his time placing wet kisses on your collar bone. Each kiss built up warmth in your stomach. No amount of kissing or fooling around was going to make you feel better.

“You good?” Travis searched your features for satisfaction, but you just looked defeated. “Let’s just stop”, you wiggled under the weight of his body, and he rolled over so you could get up. “Sorry baby, I just can’t.” You turned to him. “Why?”

“You know why. I need focus before the game.” Travis rolled his shoulders back, his demeanor turning serious. “But I can make you feel good”, you slid your hands down his back, straddling his thighs. “You don’t get it. I didn’t have this rule with other girls. I can’t have sex with you, because I will be a puddle for at least 48 hours after.” You hopped off of him. “Baby, I didn’t know I had that effect on you.” You couldn’t help but blush at Travis’ confession. He stood towering over you, his hands on your cheeks. “I promise you, as soon as I get home, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk anymore. Deal?”

#travis kelce fluff #travis kelce fic #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce #nfl fan fic #nfl fic #nfl fluff #nfl imagine #travis kelce smut

646 notes · View notes

lovedbybella · 8 months

Text

infatuation (pt. 1)

miguel o’hara x female!reader

warnings: profanity, angst, just mean miguel

summary: being miguel’s assistant, you always thought the two of you had a good thing going. and everything was great… until it wasn’t.

word count: 4.2k

authors note: this is like my first ever fic i’ve written and intended to publish so please be nice! buttt feedback is much appreciated :) ily pls enjoy

PART 2 HERE

—

You had known from the start your boss wasn’t a particularly nice one. He conducted the interview himself, and you were sure he hated you based on the look of displeasure he had planted on his face the entire time. When Lyla, his holographic AI Assistant called you the following day, announcing you were hired, you were pleasantly surprised.

The first few days of work were… interesting. You were still getting used to his mundane personality, and he was getting used to your over-the-top sunshine one. You were just a happy person, was that a crime?

After moving into the Spider-HQ, where you were given an extremely nice apartment to live in while you worked for Mr. O’hara, you took it upon yourself to figure out what his deal was. During meal times, you were fortunate enough to come across Peter B Parker. He introduced himself to you as one of your boss’s friends and briefly explained the whole situation of his daughter.

Following that day, you understood why he acted the way he did and didn’t necessarily take anything he said to you to heart. You’d make lame jokes, ramble about yourself for hours and attempt to make him spill something about himself to you. It was the system the two of you had developed, and it worked, with you keeping his office from being the saddest place on earth, and him keeping the entirety of the multiverse from falling apart.

After nearly 3 years of working for him, you had grown to be fond of him. Sure, he was an asshole 99% of the time, but there were moments when it was just the two of you working late nights and he would randomly make a joke, ask you a question about yourself, or even admit something about his past. Just things that showed you there was in fact a human with a heart underneath the rough exterior he kept up. You hated to admit it, considering you were his assistant and he was your boss, but you were beginning to develop feelings for him.

The problem though, was that lately, that version of him had completely disappeared. He was more irritable, demanding, and got upset at you over the smallest of things. You couldn’t take it, you could handle his bad moods before, but this was a whole other level. You contemplated questioning him about whatever was going on with him, but you didn’t feel like being on the receiving end of his moodiness.

Today, you were determined though.

“Good Morning, Mr. O’Hara” you chirped happily, walking into the office 15 minutes early, a stack of papers in hand like you always did. He grunts a quiet ‘Morning’ in return, not even looking in your direction. “I’ve finished all the reports and organized missions and meetings for the next two weeks, Is there anything specific you want me to do?” you ask, trying to be helpful.

“No” He replies, pointing to his desk for you to drop the papers off. You do, making your way to his desk, before opening your mouth again. “How was your weekend?” you attempt.

This time, he simply gives you a dissatisfied look, indicating that you needed to shut up. You sigh quietly, “Lovely, I assume.” You turn, your heels echoing loudly as you make your way to your desk. A month ago, your boss had relocated your space from a few feet away from him, to all the way across the room. You admitted that the action hurt a bit since you dared to assume he was beginning to tolerate you. It was like he wanted to be as far away from you as possible, and it worked, considering your interactions were cut nearly by half.

You settled yourself at your desk, prepared to spend the rest of the day busying yourself with meaningless tasks. You guess today was going to be like the rest of them.

—

A few days later, he had gotten worse. Your “Good mornings’ were ignored, and he acted like your presence alone bothered him. If you weren’t his assistant and therefore required to see him every day, you’d be avoiding him like the plague. You really couldn’t figure out if you had done something wrong, he acted normal with everybody else, the problem seemed to be, well… you.

You were getting a coffee on your way to the office, and being the considerate person you were, decided to get one for your boss too. You knew he probably didn’t get any sleep last night, and coffee usually elicited a small ‘thank you’ from him, which, at this moment, couldn’t hurt to hear. You were hoping the gesture would help him ease up on you a little, but realistically, you knew it wouldn’t.

You walked into the office, coffees in hand. “Good Morning, Mr. O’Hara,” you said, announcing your presence. You could swear you heard him groan at the sight of you. Off to a great start, you tell yourself. Ignoring his antics, you make your way to his desk. “I was getting coffee and thought I’d grab you a cup, here you go.” You say, avoiding eye contact.

As you move to place his cup down, you briefly glance up, only to be met with his piercing gaze on you. It catches you off guard, and you stumble, causing a little bit of coffee to overflow as you set the cup on his desk. “Oops' ' You laugh softly, attempting to lighten the atmosphere, “I’ll get something to cle-” you start before you’re interrupted by his rough voice.

“Are you serious” he cuts you off, “I wouldn’t have hired you if I knew you were going to be this horrible at your job. I never asked you to get me a cup of coffee, and you did it anyway, and now you can’t even hand it to me without spilling it like a competent person?” he practically growls.

Your eyes widen a bit as you try to mask the hurt on your face. You move to stand up straight again, keeping your composure. “I’m sorry” you start, “I was just tryi-” but you’re interrupted by Lyla before you can finish.

“An anomaly’s been spotted on Earth 216, nothing major, but they need backup” she announces, her holographic eyes shifting to you. “Hey Pumpkin, how are you?” she asks, you give her a tight-lipped smile in return.

“Thank you, Lyla,” Miguel answers, before shutting her off. He grunts before moving to leave, not even sparing you a second glance. You quickly clean up the mess you made, attempting to hold back tears. His words hurt more than you’d like to admit, considering you thought you always went above and beyond for him.

You weren’t particularly mad, just upset, and wiping the few tears that escaped despite your battles, you decide if Miguel simply wanted you to do your job, that’s all you’d do.

–

A few days pass, and there’s absolutely no mention of the incident. You stop saying Good Morning to him, asking about his weekend, or even making bad jokes to try and keep a light-hearted atmosphere. In fact, you don’t speak to him unless he speaks to you first.

You honestly hadn’t even looked at him, overwhelmed with the insecurity that he’s hated you from the start. You sigh quietly, staring at your computer with nothing to do. The fact that tomorrow was your birthday was the only thing getting you through the day. Your friends had organized a fun day by a lake house, filled with drinking, partying, and fun. It was the way you spent your birthday as a child, and celebrating it like that again would bring back pleasant memories. You had asked for the day off months in advance, and you were more than excited that you were finally getting a much-needed break from your boss.

You doubt he knew, nor cared. For the past 2 birthdays of his, you always made it a point to wish him a happy birthday, buying him a cupcake and a small gift (that he probably threw away). He hated it, but you wanted him to know there was at least somebody who remembered and cared enough to get him a present.

The clock hits 7 and you silently cheer, your indication you’re free to go. You began packing your things, feeling Miguel’s gaze on you for the first time all day. It had been quiet and without your attempts to fill the silence, the office was, well, dead. You tread your way to the door, your heels filling the silence before you’re interrupted by Miguel calling your name. You turn, a little terrified.

“Yes, Mr. O’Hara?”

“You’re leaving?” he asks

“It’s 7 PM” you answer, a little confused.

“You usually stay till 8.”

You pause, thinking of the best way to answer, “Well, my work day ends at 7” you state. It was true, sometimes you’d even stay till ten to help him with whatever tasks, tests, or missions he had on his own personal agenda. But lately, you had determined it wasn’t worth it with the way he was treating you.

He hummed, before turning away from you, “I need you to come in tomorrow.”

Was he serious? You keep your voice level, trying to stay professional despite the anger brewing within you. “I can’t, I requested the day off,” you say flatly.

“Well, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done” he starts, “and if you want to keep your job, you’ll come in”

Unbelievable. Now he was threatening to fire you? You were the epitome of the perfect employee, you did everything he asked and more! And after the little coffee incident, you didn’t say or do anything that could be deemed “unnecessary” just like he asked. You couldn’t fathom it, he couldn’t even let you have this day to yourself.

“Sir-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“There’ll be no argument, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his voice booming with authority. You’re speechless. You turn around, walking out of the office. You wait till you’re a reasonable distance away before you let the tears start to fall. Right now, you didn’t hate anyone more than you hated him. And to think that a few weeks ago you were beginning to harbor feelings for him. You felt so stupid.

–

The next morning, you walk in 5 minutes late. A singular coffee in hand. You hated being late, but you were held back 20 minutes calling back all your relatives and friends who were wishing you a good day. Your heart ached, knowing you’d much rather spend the day with people that adored you instead of him. You head straight to your desk, not even glancing in his direction. You feel the burn of his eyes on your back.

“You’re late” he announces, as you begin to take your laptop and the rest of your work materials out. You looked nicer today, with prettier earrings, a cute dress, and a touch more makeup. Your friends had opted for dinner after work instead after hearing about your last-minute need to cancel. The difference in your appearance didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

“I had an emergency” you state, not even bothering to glance up from your computer. In all honesty, you had nothing to do. You had completed all your work for today, yesterday, since you thought you were going to be out.

“Hm,” he responds, glancing at your desk. “Were they out of coffee?” he asks, referencing the fact that you hadn’t gotten any for him.

“No” you answer, finally looking up at him, “Would you like me to get some for you?”

“I’m okay” he answers, his eyes lingering on you like he was attempting to figure you out.

You roll your eyes when he finally turns around, before moving to speak again. “I have nothing on my schedule for today, was there anything specific you needed me to come in to do today?’” you ask, a touch of annoyance behind your voice.

“I need you to organize that,” he says, pointing to rows and rows and rows of disorganized stacks of paper that was not there yesterday. “Alphabetically, of course.”

You want to cry at the sight. You had no idea where any of those papers came from, considering that nearly everything you guys did was electronic. It was like he was doing it on purpose, seeing what your limits were before you finally broke.

You sigh to yourself, accepting the fact that your birthday is officially ruined. You clear your throat before speaking, “This will probably take me all day” you start, “Is there anything else for today?” you ask, sadness evident in your voice. If Miguel hears it, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Just that for now” he turns around, continuing to work on whatever new device he was developing now. You take the opportunity to pull out your phone, notifying your friends that you wouldn’t be seeing them today.

You finish up around 10 PM, with more papercuts than you can count. The day was, of course, horrible, with Miguel overanalyzing every move you made. You couldn’t believe you had actually spent your birthday performing such a mundane task, 3 years ago, before you knew Miguel, you never would have stood for this.

You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He definitely didn’t know it was your birthday so this was all just a huge coincidence… right? You grab your things ready to leave. You feel Miguel’s eyes on you. You had somehow made it through the day without complaining, not uttering a single word unless you were asking him a question about the assignment.

“Good Night Mr. O’Hara,” you say tiredly as you walk out the door. And maybe you’re just sleep deprived and sad, but you swear you hear a quiet ‘Night’ back.

The following morning, you walk in right on time. You look up at Miguel’s usual spot, only to find him staring directly at you. You avert your eyes awkwardly, not saying anything. You were probably going to be angry at him for the next month.

“Good Morning,” he says, body turned towards you.

“Morning,” you say softly, too hurt to be petty and ignore him. You settle into your desk, unloading your materials without even thinking. It had become a habit at this point. You yawn quietly, the events of yesterday had led to a sleepless night. “What’s on the agenda?”

Miguel looks at you, before motioning for you to come next to him. You stand up, walking over to him. He points to his right at the stacks of paper you had tirelessly organized yesterday.

“I need you to organize that,” he says, eyes gauging your reaction.

You keep your face neutral, “I organized those yesterday” you say, “Quite well”

“Again. Organize them again. I’ve decided I want it to be organized by categories instead” he says casually, like his request wasn’t absolutely insane.

No.

He was kidding, right? You stare blankly at him for a few seconds, trying to determine whether or not he was joking. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, a silent demand to get moving. You can’t help it, but you start to laugh.

“Is something funny?” he asks

“No” you state at first, trying to calm yourself down. Your laughter, however, quickly turns into anger. “Actually, yes. It’s hilarious that you think I’m going to sit here and re-organize what took me 14 hours yesterday to complete.

“You will actually, because I aske-” Miguel starts but you cut him off.

“No, I won’t. I’m not doing it” You throw your hands up, exasperated and pissed off.

“Excuse me?” he answers.

“This is ridiculous. I’ve been wanting to ask for months what exactly crawled up your ass, but out of respect for you, I didn’t. But I can’t take it anymore, you don’t get to treat people- you don’t get to treat me this way! I know you’ve been through shit but that is not an excuse Mr. O’Hara!” you pause, debating whether or not you should stop. The line, however, has already been crossed, so you continue.

“I have been the best assistant in the world for the past 3 years. Dealing with all your insane assignments, your mood, working over my hours every single day and what do I get in return? Total and complete disrespect! I try to be nice, and I try to be understanding, but my patience has worn thin and I will not stand for this. Getting you a coffee and accidentally spilling is not a reason for you to be an asshole! You made yesterday horrible for me, and that is a day I will never get back!” you cry out, all frustrations from the past few months spilling out.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but we used to work. We used to get along, and I’m not exactly sure what I did, but you didn’t use to hate me and treat me like total garbage.” You yell, angry.

Miguel stares at you, an unreadable expression marks his features. He’s not exactly speechless, but he is surprised. He watches silently as you march back over to your desk, packing up your stuff before heading towards the door.

When you’re almost out, you turn around, looking directly at him, “And for the record, I am not horrible at my job and I am capable of handing someone a cup of coffee competently. Find yourself a new assistant, I quit.” and with that, you storm out of the office.

Two weeks later and you had settled into a new routine. Living in the Spider-HQ wasn’t anything like regular Earth. People didn’t need to work to live, working just kept things in order and kept a sense of normalcy around the Society.

Your days were different. You finally had time to catch up with other Spider friends that you rarely got to see due to how busy you usually were. You could tend to your garden, catch up on books, and explore the HQ in the daytime. It was nice, it was peaceful.

Despite all that though, something was missing. You weren’t exactly happy about leaving. Yes, it was a major relief to not have to deal with Miguel every day, but it had become your new normal. You had loved your job, prior to everything of course, and you hated to admit it but, you missed it. You missed him, him and all his faults, his attitude, the part of him you rarely got to see.

It was around 7 at night. You were cleaning up your apartment, preparing for a long-awaited movie marathon with Peter. You place the pizza boxes and popcorn on your living room table, all ready mentally preparing yourself for the stomach ache you’d inevitably get.

You hear a knock on your door just as you finish putting away your cleaning supplies. It was a little earlier than you told Peter to come by, but you knew he liked to be punctual.

“It’s open!” You yell, turning on your TV to pull up the movie. The knock is on your door again, this time more persistent. You groan as you get up, hadn’t you and Peter gotten over the formalities of having to invite each other in?

You open the door, your mouth moving faster than your eyes before you could register what was in front of you, “Peter, you know you don’t have to-” you stop, mid-sentence, suddenly rendered speechless. The man in front of you was much too tall and much too tan to be Peter. Your mouth feels dry and you’re unsure of how to respond- or how to proceed.

“Mr. O’Hara.” is what you settle on.

You were embarrassed. Yes, everything you said was completely valid- and true! But, he was still your boss and after you had calmed down, you determined your little outburst was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. So yeah, you weren’t exactly ready to face him, especially considering the fact that you did not think Miguel was the type of person to show up at a doorstep, let alone yours.

He stares at you, his dark eyes moving all over you, like he was trying to assess you. You wait patiently, he had obviously shown up here for a reason, and you definitely weren’t going to say anything that would deter that.

“The other day” he starts, “You were dressed so nicely.” Out of all things you predicted he was going to say, that was not on the list. In all the years you worked together, Miguel had never given you a compliment. Sure, you caught his eyes lingering a little longer than needed sometimes, but he was a man, it didn’t mean anything.

You stay quiet, unsure of how to respond.

“Why were you dressed so nicely?” He moves, his body shifting so one of his arm’s leaning on the top of your doorframe, the rest of him looking down at you.

“That’s none of your business, Mr. O’Hara,” you say firmly.

“I think I ought-” he begins, but you interrupt him.

“Mr. O’Hara, I think it’s best if you-”

“Miguel, My name is Miguel. Not Mr. O’Hara” he says, desperate. You stay silent.

“Did you have a date?” he asks, his voice hoarse, like a certain answer would pain him to hear.

Your mind runs a mile a minute, his question completely throwing you off guard, and now you’re angry, “Is that why you decided to give me that stupid assignment? Because you thought I had a date?”

“You didn’t answer me”

“I don’t have to answer you, Miguel,” you start, saying his name venomously, “Not anymore, I quit, remember?”

He looks at you, eyes hurt and pleading.

“If you must know, it was my birthday. A day that you ruined when you forced me to come in and had me work till 10 PM.” you begin, calmly, not in the mood to be angry again when you were about to meet a friend. “And I know birthdays may not mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to me, and if you’re not here to apologize for the way you treated me, then leave.”

“I was glad you quit, you were driving me insane,” he says, his voice husky and low.

“Did you really come here to insult me further? Glad to see you were so happy to be rid of me” You move to shut the door but he stops you, easily.

“That’s not what I meant” he looks down at his feet, his face hopeless, like what he’s trying to say is impossible. He looks back up, looking directly into your eyes before speaking,

“I cannot get you out of my mind” he admits, “Every waking moment of the day, my mind is filled with you, it drives me crazy. And I can’t do anything about it, because you’re- we’re my assistant”

You’re stunned, unable to speak.

Miguel's eyes are dark as he looks at you. His brain short-circuits as he tries- tries to make you understand exactly how you make him feel. “I knew it was your birthday, and I had planned something, but the moment I saw you in that fucking dress, all sense went out the window. I couldn’t stand the idea that you were probably going to celebrate with some man, some man that probably doesn’t give two shits about you, some man that wasn’t me.”

You attempt to interrupt him, completely overwhelmed by his confession. You had absolutely no idea that was the way he felt about you. You could feel the intensity of his words as he practically pleaded them to you.

“Miguel, I- What?” you start, but he interrupts you, groaning.

“Don’t you fucking get it? I need you, desperately, and I can’t have you and I’m going fucking mad at that revelation. So of course, my only solution was to make you hate me, it’s what I do best, and when it worked, I realized I’d rather hate the world for only letting me have a part of you than not have any part of you at all.” his voice sounds so raw like it hurts to admit.

You look at him, his eyes earnest and waiting. Waiting for some type of signal from you that you understand what he’s saying, and that he’s not alone. But you’re stupid, and you can’t form the right words to explain you feel the exact same way, so you’re speechless, trying to make yourself say something, anything.

“Miguel-” you start, but you’re interrupted.

‘Hey! Did you guys make up? Heard you guys had a nasty work breakup” Peter interrupts, laughing as he looks between the two of you.

Miguel stares at you, exasperated. He gives you one last look before he turns and leaves, running his fingers through his hair as he rounds the corner, leaving your line of sight.

You stare in his direction, closing your mouth before your eyes shift to Peter. He stands there, awkwardly turning to you, clearly gauging that whatever conversation the two of you just had was not a normal one.

“Did I interrupt something?”

part 2 coming if people want one? i’ve never posted anything spicy but i’ll do it for the people <3

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #marvel #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism #peter b parker #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x assistant!reader #miguel o’hara x reader

614 notes · View notes

poppadom0912 · 3 months

Text

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

#onechicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #halstead sister #jay halstead #will halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #will halstead x sister!reader

369 notes · View notes

magics-neptunes-things · 3 months

Text

Collide (7)

Hi guys ♥

We come to the end of this series that I really enjoyed writing. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did and I thank again all those who took the time to comment or like the different chapters.

It was a big work and I'm kind of sad that it ends to be honest, but I think it's better to finish it this way :)

Enjoy ♥

TW : Kidnapping, hurt, angst, fear.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

______________________________________________________________

Your rehabilitation is going well, even if you find that the time is long to be completely honest. After four weeks you had the right to have your cast removed to make you put a splint, which has already helped you move a little better by yourself. After that you were able to start a rehabilitation, allowing you to quickly find the pitch. You miss playing football terribly and you don't know how you will do when you have to retire permanently. But you’d rather not think about it for now, focusing on the idea of playing again as soon as possible.

To pass the time during your rehabilitation, you started painting more than before. You are not tired enough to go to sleep after your workouts so you get tired using your concentration otherwise. You paint a bit of everything, without it being very precise. Landscapes, objects, memories of your childhood… You paint a bit of everything that goes through your head.

Leah likes to come and join you in your studio, apparently finding yourself with your long white shirt and painted hands particularly attractive. You’re not complaining, of course. You wouldn’t know why you feared Leah’s eyes on your painting until you really let her into your studio. Maybe because she knows a little about the subject and because what you paint is something you consider intimate. You never really let anyone see what you were painting. But again, Leah is different.

********

You come back from training, which you were able to participate in for the first time since your injury. Your leg is back as muscular as before and you managed to recover to play the last games of the season, including a very important England Cup final for the club.

You’re also at the same point with Chelsea to win the championship, which also means a lot to Arsenal. And for Leah, coming back on a double win would be something exceptional for her. And you hope that you and the team will be able to offer this to all of you. Your teammates are relieved to have you back and you are happy to be able to help them too. It's not yet a question of you going back to a game entirely from the beginning, but playing the joker of the second half suits you perfectly for the moment.

So you’re back from practice, lying on the couch in your living room watching Love Island. Alessia isn't with you tonight, stating that she intended to offer herself a good hot bath, certainly with a multitude of bath salt and candles.

You and Leah managed to sit on the couch, lying next to each other after dinner. Leah seems to be captivated by the screen but you are not really. Your gaze must weigh on her at least a minimum since she ends up turning her eyes on your face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" the blonde wonders.

"For nothing" you mumble by biting your lower lip.

Your fingers gently push back a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. This isn't really the truth, since you have an idea that has been in your head for some time and you don't know how to propose it to Leah. Your lie doesn’t work at all about Leah arching an eyebrow.

"Since when you try to lie to me?"

You laugh slowly, letting your fingers slide over her jaw. You may have seen her daily for months, but you doubt that you will ever tire of the perfection of her facial features. You hit her gently on the nose when she pretends to bite you though.

"If I offer you something and you find it too strange, you agree to act like you didn’t hear anything?"

Your question seems to surprise Leah, whose attention you now have. Her curious gaze scrutinizes you attentively.

"Is it something sexual?" she grins.

"No, you horny teenager boy" you laugh

"What is it then?"

You feel the curiosity in her voice too and you briefly wonder what she can think of before answering her. But when you open your mouth to offer her what you have in mind, you abruptly reverse.

"No nothing, forget it. It’s a bad idea"

You feel a little blushed and you hope that Leah will accept what you just said. But you also know perfectly well that it won’t.

"But tell me!" exclaims the blonde rising suddenly, almost throwing you on the ground.

"Leah!" you laugh-shout when you catch up to her size to stay on the couch.

"What is it? Tell me!"

To support her request, Leah sits on your stomach, thus preventing you from moving if ever the idea came to you to run away in the kitchen. And you have to admit that it came to mind for a few seconds.

"No" you answer smiling and shaking your head.

"You leave me no choice."

With an evil smile, Leah starts tickling your ribs, causing your uncontrollable laughter. You try to escape, but between her muscular strength and the loss of yours through laughter, you end up accepting the idea that you have no chance to escape.

"All right, all right! I’ll tell you."

Satisfied, Leah immediately stops her torture session and patiently waits for you to catch your breath to be able to answer her.

"I was wondering if you would accept that I make a portrait of you"

You see curiosity give way to surprise, then reflection on Leah’s face. You don’t do much portrait to be completely honest, you once made a replica of a wedding photo of your parents for their twentieth wedding anniversary and that’s it.

And a Raven portrait, but you’re not sure that matters.

"You want to paint me?" wonders Leah

"Only if you fully agree with that. You have the right to say it’s weird"

"I don’t think it’s weird"

Leah smiles at you and you immediately know that she means what she’s saying to you. She’s still sitting on your belly and you’re gently sliding your fingers down her legs, mechanically reshaping the scar from her surgery last year.

"Like a Titanic painting?"

"I imagined it with a little more clothes to be honest" you laugh softly. "But sincerely, how you feel most comfortable"

"That would be amazing" ended up answering Leah after a few seconds of reflection.

You smile at her and pull her against you, kissing her lips. When the pretty blonde lies on top of you and you turn your attention to the TV screen, you are in truth once again not focused at all on what is happening there. Your mind is already thinking about the canvas you are going to make and what you want to bring out on it.

********

When you can finally play an entire football game, Leah’s portrait is almost complete. What started out being a little intimidating quickly became a special moment between you. You feared at first that the way you represented her would not suit her. However, you have pushed this fear into a corner of your head since you will not allow Leah to see the canvas until it's finished. Despite her self-confidence, Leah seemed almost shy to you at first. It must be said that the look you put on her in those moments is different from the stolen looks you give her when you watch television, or when you admire her sleeping when you wake up before her.

But you have an excuse to admire her as much as you want now and you never get tired of it. The truth is, you’re almost disappointed that this is over. You loved spending hours looking for the perfect color mix for her eye or hair color. And having her with you in your painting studio also makes you happy.

Over time, Leah has become familiar with your lair and seems to enjoy spending time there too. When you tell her that you no longer need her and that she can go do something else, she often comes back to you with other things to do. To make her feel more comfortable than a simple chair, you bought an extra sofa despite Leah’s protests that it’s frankly not necessary.

The following Tuesday, after training, Leah goes to spend time with her family. Well, Amanda asked you to be here too, but you still want Leah to spend time alone with her family. So you go from time to time, but today Leah goes alone directly after training.

"I’m gonna miss you" says Leah, hugging you.

You may be exaggerating your goodbyes, but you don’t care. You enjoy your embrace, Leah’s arms around your waist while yours are around her neck. Just like you enjoy her kisses on your cheek, on your jaw and in your neck.

"I’m going to miss you too" you smile as you take her face in both hands to put a kiss on her lips.

"Oh God" whines Katie joining you at the exit "You will see you again in maximum four hours, don’t you think you’re a little too much?"

"Five if I beat them all" Leah smiled mischievously as she picked you up again, kissing you in the hollow of your neck.

You laugh when you hear Katie sigh desperately, then turn around when you hear the building door open again, probably in search of some moral support.

"Caitlin comes kiss your girlfriend to get her off my back, please" Leah says when she sees the Australian coming with Kyra and Steph.

"I’m not as needy as you are" Katie snorts

You see Caitlin rolling her eyes but approaching Katie who discreetly passes an arm around her waist to train her to her car. When you see Alessia finally arrive, you know that you will not be able to postpone your little separation very longer.

"Write to me when you arrive?" You ask Leah despite the fact that she does it every time.

"Sure" smiled Leah.

After a few kisses exchanged (Alessia must practically tear you from Leah’s arms), you find yourself in the Mercedes of the blonde in the direction of your building.

The ride is full of discussion, laughter and songs. With Less' promise of homemade pizzas, you know you’re going to have a great night. Lia is supposed to join you a little later to spend the evening with you, just like Manu.

"Shit, I left my phone in your car. Sorry, can I have your keys please?" you sigh when you come out of the garage.

If Leah had been with you you wouldn’t have cared, but this time it’s different. You take back the keys of Alessia’s car in the hands with an excuse smile and you go back quickly. After retrieving your phone, you return to the elevators and press the button on your floor by sending a message to Leah informing her that you have arrived home.

You take the time to put your bag in your apartment and grab a bottle of water in your fridge. You are filling the bowl with Raven’s croquettes when you hear the characteristic sound of something crashing into Alessia’s apartment, making you roll your eyes. This is clearly not the first time and probably the last.

"I don’t know if we’ll ever meet someone as clumsy as Auntie Less" you tell Raven.

The latter throws a reproach glance over her meal, without taking care to stop eating.

"I never said it took away her qualities" you answer by raising both hands in the air.

After two or three caresses, you get up to join Alessia in her apartment and probably help her to clean what has fallen. You just hope it’s not the jar of flour or tomato sauce she uses to make her pizzas.

"You alright Less?" you ask when entering your friend’s apartment.

But you freeze suddenly. It’s not Alessia who is in front of you, where she should be. It's not Alessia who is in the middle of the glass bricks of a mozzarella jar that

And it’s not Alessia looking at you with a dark smile, arms crossed over her chest.

It's Helena.

Your brain makes a short circuit for a few seconds, during which you watch her without moving. You don’t know what she’s doing here, how she found you and how she got into Alessia’s apartment. And what scares you even more is knowing exactly where Alessia is. That’s finally the first thing you can say. You know what she’s capable of, and that terrorizes you.

"Where’s Alessia?" you ask her, with your chaotic breathing

"After all these years without seeing me that’s all you have to say to me?" laughs coldly Helena.

You suppress a chill. Her bad and cold laugh reminds you of very bad memories, but you try not to let yourself be dragged there for the moment. You focus on the present and therefore on the health of one of the people who matters most to you right now.

"Where is Alessia?" you repeat, in a slightly louder voice.

"Don’t worry about her, she’s fine"

Her tone and voice are filled with disdain. When she starts to move, moving around the apartment looking around her, you feel like electric currents running through your body. Nothing to do with what Leah gives you, though.

Leah.

Finally, it’s a good thing the blonde is with her family right now. You don’t know what Helena wants from you, but it’s out of the question that your girlfriend crosses paths with your ex’s. The idea that Alessia had to do it makes you nauseous.

"So this is where you live now?"

You don’t answer anything, just watching her like milk on the fire. You know very well that when she seems calm, this is where she's the most dangerous. When she realizes that you will not answer her, Helena turns to you with an amused look.

"It’s true that you were much less talkative at the end of our relationship. I forgot"

"What do you want, Helena?" you ask coldly.

"Watch your tone, pretty girl" tsked Helena looking at you.

Unlike the last time you saw her, you supported her gaze when she stuck it in yours. It seemed to surprise her. But time passed and you grew and evolved. You changed, just like her. Her face is thinner and slender, purple circles give her two eyes steel color an impression of disturbing grandeur. She's still pretty tho, but has definitly nothing attractive to you.

"What do you want?" you say again.

Helena comes to position herself in front of you and even if your mind begs you to run away, you don't move. Not until I know what’s going on and especially what she did to Alessia.

"You? You didn’t come back to see if I lived in the same place for nothing, did you?"

You feel your stomach fall from several floors. You don't understand how she saw you, you were perfectly hidden that morning. She couldn’t see you from her house, let alone from the window where you saw her. Your face must be talking since Helena is laughing.

"Next time you come spying on me, do it wisely. The neighbor saw you hiding behind his car. He almost called the cops."

Helena laughs again and gets closer to you. You’re only a few inches apart now.

"Did you miss me?" she asks you with a mischievous smile.

"Not for a fucking second" you answer coldly.

Her smile fades as quickly as you slapped her and you see her look change. Seeing her so surprised is so surprising to you that you let your guard down. It doesn’t take more than that for Helena to jump at the chance, grabbing Alessia’s rolling pin to crush her with all her might on your skull, knocking you out instantly.

********

Your skull hurts when you try to open your eyes. You realize you’re lying on a cold floor and it’s dark. Your eyes need a few seconds to get used to the ambient darkness. Your hands are immobilized in your back, preventing you from helping you get up in the small room you are in. You quickly realize that it must be a small cellar somewhere. In front of you, Helena looks at you attentively, your phone in her hand.

"Drop it" you mumble as you roll on your back before sitting up.

"She’s pretty stubborn" Helena replies, ignoring you completely.

She turns your phone screen in your direction and you can see Leah’s ID. She’s trying to call you. If your gaze lingers for a few seconds on the photo you chose for her contact, you also manage to see the time it is. And it’s been at least five hours since you left her from the training ground. Lia and Manu are supposed to have arrived at your home as well and you sincerely hope that they were able to help Alessia.

When your screen turns black again, Helena gently rests it on the ground and puts her attention back on you.

"You continue to be a constant problem for me, it’s painful."

You don’t answer at that either. Not out of fear as was previously the case, but because you learned that ignorance is the best contempt. You don’t want to give Helena any more hold on you.

"Looks like you’ve made some friends. How all those people can be interested in someone like you?" laughs Helena, and this time you can’t support her gaze.

That’s kind of the question you constantly ask yourself in the background and probably where most of your insecurities come from. How can people care about you? Why did Ingrid choose to put herself in danger and get you out of that cursed house? Why did Laia and Leila automatically take you under their wing in Manchester? Why does Alessia also consider you a sister? Why do Manu, Lia, Katie, Kyra, Caitlin consider you a friend today?

By what miracle does Leah seem to be in love with you, too?

"You’re nothing and mean nothing. It was time I came to remind you, I think."

You answer nothing, your eyes stubbornly fixed on the ground at your feet, jay tightens. Your silence and lack of reaction seem to begin to annoy Helena.

"Look at me when I talk to you" spits Helena.

You hate to obey so quickly, but you automatically raise your gaze on her. But it allows you to realize that the mask of coldness that she used to keep is now cracked. She realizes that she no longer has the control as before and that gives you a little courage.

"You are mine. You belong to me."

The words she says are somewhat similar to those Leah can utter in your most intimate moments, but the intent behind it is completely different. Where there is only evil in Helena, behind those of Leah there is only love, devotion and admiration. Even if you don’t understand how and why you’re lucky enough to have a girl like Leah in your life, you realize right now that what Helena is telling you is wrong.

You have people who love and appreciate you. People who believe in you.

"And you know you won’t love anyone else as you love me"

Helena tries a poker game, but it only triggers a scornful laugh from you.

"I don’t even have enough interest in you to hate you anymore" you answer coldly.

The sound of the slap she gives you echoes in the little room. You should have expected it. The skin of your cheek burns after its blow and you know that she put all her strength into it.

"No one will be interested in you for ever as I will and you know it. Look! Even your precious girlfriend stopped trying to call you"

Helena grabs your phone and throws it in your direction. It comes straight to your head before it ricochets off your head and falls to the ground. You see the number of missed calls from Leah, but you find that it’s indeed been long minutes since she tried to contact you. You also received other calls from people you can’t see and the usual whatsapp notifications and different social networks you’re on. The only difference from usual is Lia’s missed calls.

"You didn’t listen to anything I told you. You keep strutting around on the football fields and chasing your stupid ball. You are ridiculous."

A new slap sounds in the room and you close your eyes under the impact. You pretty sure you will have bruises. You’re trying to get back on your feet, hoping that your muscles that are more developed than before will allow you to do better than all these years ago. Where you spent hours at the gym, Helena seems to have spent them lying on her bed using illegal substances.

But your attempt is quickly spotted by Helena, who doesn't hesitate to return you to the ground with a well placed kick. You crash violently against the ground, the pain leaving you groggy for a few seconds.

A loud sound makes you suddenly open your eyes and you fear for your life for a few seconds, but you finally understand that it's actually the door of the cellar that we tried to force. A split second later, it opens on the fly, letting in several armed people. Your first reaction, no doubt stupid, is to believe that they are Helena’s accomplices. But when they throw themselves at her, you realize that if they’re there, it’s to help you.

THey help you get up and free you from the bonds that held your hands before getting you out of the cellar. Honestly, you don’t understand what’s going on. When you get out of the building, you realize you’re not far from your building.

The night seems to have fallen for a long time and the headlights of the police cars illuminate the street at regular intervals. They take you to an ambulance and you let it happen, like a robot. However, you quickly come back to reality by hearing a voice you know well pronounce your name.

Leah.

You barely have time to turn around as you find yourself caught in her arms, her hair obstructing your field of vision and her perfume enveloping all your senses. When you close your eyes, you feel tears coming out of your eyes and soon your whole body is shaken with tears.

Whispering comforting words in your ear, Leah leads you to the ambulance without releasing you for a single second. And that’s exactly what you need, the way you hold onto her shirt could attest to that.

"Alessia" you manage to pronounce after a few minutes.

You’re sitting in the back of the ambulance, Leah at your side while the paramedics seem determined to examine you from head to toe despite your confirmation that you’re okay.

"She’s fine" Leah says "She’s shocked, but she’s fine. Lia and Manu finds her when they come to her apartment, she was in her bedroom. She's not hurt."

You nod, feeling your throat knotted again. Knowing what she went through this because of you gnaws at you from within.

"It’s my fault Lee. She came back because I was seen in her neighborhood in Oslo. You were right. I should never have gone."

"It’s not your fault" Leah replies, wiping one of your tears rolling down your cheeks

But you cannot tolerate that answer. You gently shake your head and shift a little to get away from her. You don’t deserve someone to comfort you after all the evil you brought tonight. Especially not someone like Leah. Someone who deserves better. It’s time you stopped being selfish.

"Y/N..."

Leah try to take you back against her, but you are interrupted by one of the nurses who comes back to you with different papers in his hands. Apparently you are fine, but they still want to keep you in the hospital under observation for the night. You will probably be visited by police officers to discuss what has just happened.

You nod, despite the fact that you are getting tired of hospitals.

"Are you coming with us?" the nurse asks Leah

"Yes" she answers automatically

"No" you answer at the same time

The look Leah gives you is so shocked that you can’t help but feel guilty. Like at the beginning of your relationship, you still have no desire to hurt or harm her.

"Alessia’s gonna need you" you’re vaguely mumbling as an explanation

"She has Lia and Manu with her and we called her parents"

Realizing the number of people involved in this story, you curl up and squeeze your palms against your eyes. When you feel Leah’s hand on your shoulder, you have once again the reflex to try to detach yourself from it. But Leah doesn't let you.

"Everybody’s gonna hate me" you mumble, before you start thinking out loud. "I’m gonna have to move from here, change places and stop football. The best thing is that I go back to Norway and I…"

"Y/N, shut up for mercy"

You oblige and freeze instantly when you hear Leah’s voice. With the help of her hands, she gently lifts you up and removes your hands in the same way from your eyes.

"I know what you’re doing. There’s no way you’re running away. Nobody’s going to hate you. You’re the victim in the story"

But you shake your head violently at this statement. You feel the ambulance start, the engine purring gently.

"Bullshit. If there’s a victim here, it’s Alessia. And you, because you should never have had to go through this. And Lia and Manu, who certainly freaked out too. And Alessia's family, god can you imagine their fear? It’s my fault that all this happened."

"No. It’s Helena’s fault."

You hate to hear Leah say that name and she knows it perfectly. If the nickname she had chosen was a little to dismiss the situation, he was nonetheless innocent. It was mostly to stop hearing that name that makes you nauseous.

"Everybody’s gonna know. Everybody’s gonna know and hate me" you say in a low voice.

"Nobody’s gonna hate you god Y/N" sighs Leah pushing you to sit next to you on the bed. "The only thing that’s gonna happen is that people who know about you will be worried about you because you’re important to their lives. Because they care about you. Because they love you."

You remain silent, carefully avoiding Leah’s gaze. You cannot imagine that she could be right to be completely honest, something terrible could have happened to Alessia for example. And if Leah had been with you, you wouldn’t even imagine what might have happened. The very idea terrifies you.

"I can’t let her get close to you" you end up answering.

"She can’t do it anymore. After what happened tonight, even if you decide for stupid reasons not to press charges, Alessia will."

Leah’s tone is a little abrupt and you can’t decently blame her for being a little bit angry. Alessia is one of your best friends, but you know that Leah and her are also very close. So you remain silent, letting yourself move as the road moves. You feel Leah’s gaze on you, but yours is stubbornly fixed on your hands.

"Hey"

Leah’s voice sounds again after a few minutes and surprises you in your thoughts. Forgetting your resolve until now, you mechanically turn your gaze on her.

"Believe it or not, you matter to a lot of people here"

You sigh softly and look away again, putting your eyes back on the landscape that passes by the small rear window of the ambulance.

"I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone. Especially not for people I love"

"There won’t be any more problems. She won’t make it this time."

Leah seems so confident and determined that you finally believe it a little. But Helena always seemed so untouchable that you still have a little trouble realizing that it’s possible. Except for Ingrid, no one ever suspected what she was doing to you. Leah knows now and you’ll probably have a lot of questions to ask her about how they found you.

"Hey" whispers Leah again.

You again silently raise your gaze on her and you note with surprise that it has softened a little since earlier.

"I do. I love you, I care for you and you mean the world to me"

You’re back in tears. Leah puts an arm around you and you let yourself go against her this time, unable to resist any longer the comfort that you know she is able to provide you.

"And I’ll tell you until you finally believe it, every day if you have to. Until you get sick of me."

"Never" you mumble, not really knowing if she heard you.

Plot twist: She heard you.

When you arrive at the hospital, you stubbornly refuse additional tests, repeating again and again that you are fine. You don’t even have a concussion as a result of the shock you received, which made you lose consciousness. You have a good bump, though, and some bruises. But you’re doing pretty well.

The most difficult moment is undoubtedly the interrogation of the police to whom you had to tell everything from A to Z. Despite your supplications, Leah was not allowed to stay with you and this obviously made things much more complicated to live or to relive.

The second moment was the call to your parents, informed by the justice of what had happened to you. To them too, you had to tell them some things but you silenced the worst things undoubtedly. They’ll probably resent you for a while for hiding such things from them, but not to the point of not wanting to talk to you. You had to stop your mother from jumping on the first plane to meet you.

Fortunately, the judicial inquiry and everything around it will be kept silent at your request and the general public will not learn what happened to you in the past and in recent days. The official story is that you and Alessia stumbled upon a group of particularly aggressive burglars. That’s quite plausible.

To get you home, Leah had to go home to pick up a car since she followed you here with the ambulance. After making sure you were okay, she finally left the hospital and you took the opportunity to call Ingrid, informed by your parents. You should also ask them not to say anything. For Ingrid, you know that you have no risk of this happening.

You just hung up with her when someone gently knocks on the door of your room and you look up at the door when you allow the person to enter. Your heart tightens a little when seeing that it's Alessia. She looks at you cautiously and on your side you don't dare to sketch the slightest movement, persuaded that she's terribly angry with you. And if it’s not her, it’ll probably be her family.

"Can I come in?" she asks you, almost timidly.

You silently nod for any answer. You watch her gently close the door behind her, looking in her behavior for the slightest sign of a potential dispute or reproach. Your eyes glide over herface, hands and body in search of wounds, but you find nothing.

If Leah saw you, she’d probably call you a fool.

"How are you feeling?"

Her question makes you blink and you feel a little stupid for not having asked it first. So you bite your lip briefly before returning it to her, without having replied.

"What about you?"

"I'm okay. I only have one bump."

You cross her eyes and you can easily detect the attention with which she looks at you.

"I'm -"

"Leah told me you expect me to yell at you or resent you. But it’s not what I think Y/N. It’s not your fault."

You sigh softly and shake your head negatively. You want people to stop telling you that, because you know that’s the case. You never should have gone back to her house that night, she never would have come back.

"Listen" continues Alessia as she sits on your bed "I know what you think but let me tell you what I think. It wasn’t very smart of you to go back to her house in Oslo, I agree with you, but at least now we know where she is and what she’s doing. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. She can never come back for you or seek to harm you in any way. You can feel safe now, because you are."

It’s hard to remain insensitive to such a speech, but you can’t find the words to answer Alessia. The blonde doesn't seem to hold it against you once again, since she addresses you a new smile.

"And for what it’s worth, you’re still my sis. And I love you."

Despite yourself, you can’t hold a little laugh and you reach out to her hoping to receive a hug. Alessia isn't begging to offer you one, almost crushing you in her arms.

"I’m so glad you’re okay" you whisper, briefly tightening your arms around her. "And thank you."

"What for?"

"Being you. To forgive me, to be there again and again."

"Again and again" she repeats before letting you go, smiling. "Now put on your shoes and jacket, Leah is waiting for us downstairs. Let's go to her before she accuse me to molesting you again."

********

There are finally only a few people at Arsenal who are aware of what really happened and it suits you very well. In addition to Leah, Alessia, Lia and Manu, you suffered the suspicious look of Katie who looked at you at length during your story. She didn’t ask any specific questions, but just told you that if you needed any help from the Irish mafia, she had contacts. You know that this is certainly not true (well, you hope) but you appreciate the message behind this statement.

You violently refused to rest for the next games, just like Alessia. You also asked Jonas to treat you as he would normally, according to your abilities of the moment and what you do during training. That puts you in the starting players for the final game for the England Cup, West Ham. And this time, you are both on the pitch against Alina and Jordan, who are also both lined up from the start of the game.

The players of the opposing team are not yet present in the corridor when you arrive and you imagine that it's for this reason that Leah lets herself grab your fingers with hers. This draws your questioning gaze to her and she simply smiles at you. You feel that she is trying not to choke you with her worry about what happened with Helena, but you appreciate her constant presence at your side. Since you are only between you and the others are discussing everything and nothing, you take the opportunity to let yourself go a little more against her.

"Stressed?" You ask Leah when she drops your fingers to put her arm around your waist.

"A little more than usual" confesses the blonde in a low voice.

"You will be exceptional, as always"

Leah pinches your ribs smiling maliciously, your little cry of surprise making turn almost all of your teammates. Some people laugh when they see you, and you chase Leah’s hand away by hitting her. Seeing that she is about to continue your hand game, Lia pretends to intervene between you smiling.

"That’s enough, behave yourself"

That’s when the West Ham players begin to arrive at your side and you let Leah spin you aroung by holding you by the shoulders to face the exit. That doesn’t stop you from taking one last amused look at her before focusing on the game. Well it was until Leah kiss your jaw.

Your face is impassive when you shake hands with Jordan and then with Alina. You feel a lot better in your shoes than the last time it happened and it really makes you happy.

You find yourself in front of the field, attacking, alongside Alessia. Leah is in the back with Katie and with Caitlin, Lia in midfield, Beth and Viv, it has become a bit of your basic structure. It works very well like that and Jonas probably didn't want to take risks and try last minute strategies. Maybe he keeps a card in his sleeve for the second half if something weird happens.

But it doesn’t happen. Alessia manages to score a goal in the twelfth minute and you put another one in the twenty-third. Katie scores the third on a free kick just before half-time and you have to hold back from jumping into the locker room. Jonas urges you to stay focused for the second half, reminding you that if you managed to score three in forty-five minutes, West Ham is quite capable of doing so as well. So it’s just as focused that you go back into the field, ready to fight.

You don’t know what instructions the coach gave to the West Ham players, but there is no doubt that he asked them to press you as high as possible on the court. During corners or free kicks it's suddenly Alina who is supposed to take you, which isn't necessarily to your liking. You suddenly push her hands back when she puts them on you several times, ending up attracting the attention of the referee who comes to ask you to calm down a little.

West Ham actually manages to score a goal soon after, but you score a second a few minutes later. And Kyra, back for Beth at halftime, seals your easy win just before the end of the game.

When you lift the cup, you can’t help but look at the joy on Leah’s face and then on your teammates. Your friends. No matter how much you think about it, you don’t remember being as happy in your life as you are at that moment.

You smile at Leah when she crosses your eyes, mimicking a silent "I love you" with your lips, to which she responds by sending you a kiss.

********

"Leah, where are we going?" you ask, laughing softly, the blonde making you walk with both hands on your eyes.

It almost makes you stumble several times, but Leah watches over you carefully and catches up with you every time.

"We’re almost there" the blonde promises.

And indeed, a few seconds later she releases your eyes, taking the time to put in front of you before resuming the speech.

"Don’t open your eyes yet" Leah said, taking your face in her hands "First of all, I want you to know that there is no obligation to anything. That it won’t change anything between us no matter what you say. And that I love you"

"You’re scaring me, Lee." You mumble, frown.

"You don’t need it" Leah smiles.

She puts a tender kiss on your lips before releasing you and stepping back a few steps.

"You can open your eyes now"

You comply and blink several times to recover to the ambient light. Leah dragged you here after training, you’re at St-Albans not far from the training center, but not far from where her parents live too. You know that Caitlin and Katie, Kyra and Lia lived not far from here too. The building in front of you is typically English. It's a semi-detached house whose building is protected by a barrier and various security. Some work has certainly been done recently because everything seems particularly clear.

"What are we doing here?" you ask while frowning.

Leah is scratching her throat, apparently a little stressed. The way she swings from her toes to her heels tells you how nervous she is.

"Move in with me. We practically live together already and I want to wake up with you every day. I want to fall asleep with you and be able to moan because Raven is clawing on my couch while that damn cat has a brand new cat tree. I want to be able to take care of you and protect you every day. I know it’s a big step, but I love you and I want to make my life with you. Say yes, please?"

"Of course, yes" you answer with a smile.

Truth is, she already had you in the first sentence, but hearing that pretty statement doesn’t hurt. A big smile appears on Leah’s face as she hurries to put her hands around your waist to lift you off the floor and offer you a hug. You can’t help but laugh and put your arms around her neck.

After a few kisses, Leah shows you around the house, pointing out that you have the right to refuse the place if it doesn't suit you. But it seems to be perfect. An underground garage, the ground floor is reserved for the kitchen, the open dining room and the living room which gives access to the large garden behind the house. There is also a bathroom. Upstairs, there is what Leah proposes to transform into your ensuite bedroom, a guest room, another bathroom and a room that she proposes to transform into your studio provided that you leave her a small corner to install her piano and desk.

"What do you think?" Leah anxiously asks as you walk down to the living room.

"I love it" you answer honestly with a big smile on your face.

Leah smiles and seems to relax when she hears your answer. She puts her hands on your hips when you snuggle up against her and put your lips on her cheek and neck.

"I’m surprised you chose a semi-detached house" you admit however between two kisses.

"Oh, the neighbor looks nice, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble getting along" smiled Leah, sliding her finger under your chin to put a kiss on your lips. "Come, I’ll introduce you"

She grabs your hand and brings you out of the house to go into the house attached to yours. Both have been redone recently and you appreciate the light color of the front and the orange cobblestones on the outside, giving a small impression of southern Europe despite being in St-Albans.

Leah knocks at the door and you stand slightly behind her, still clinging to her hand. But your curiosity gives way to surprise when the door opens to an Alessia Russo and her famous smile.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, confused. "Are you dating the neighbor?"

"No" laughs Alessia while Leah next to you laughs too. "I’m the neighbor"

It takes you a few seconds to figure out what that means. You look in turn at Leah, who has meanwhile entered the house to greet Alessia’s brother whom you had not yet noticed, and Alessia who continues to smile.

"Are you moving here?"

"I think. This house is buzzing and apparently the neighbors won’t be too annoying"

You just smile while Luca confirms by mentioning all the positive things he found in the house. You quickly understand that Alessia called on him to get a second look and make sure everything was in order, but you trust Leah completely in that regard. Instead of listening, you jump into Alessia’s arms and finally realize what it means. You would have been sad not to have her next to you to be completely honest, but this is even better than what you imagined.

"You didn’t expect to get rid of me like that?" whispers Alessia, smiling as you hugged.

You roll your eyes and just tighten her against you with your arms around her neck, before Leah joins your embrace, squeezing you both against her.

"You whisper sweet words to my girlfriend besides molesting her now, Russo?"

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso fanfics #woso

229 notes · View notes

idrellegames · 4 months

Text

Wayfarer 2024 Roadmap

It’s the start of a new year and I’m excited to announce my plans for Wayfarer’s development.

The primary focus for 2024 is finishing Episode 3 and starting Episode 4. My goal has always been to get the alpha build to the point where it is one episode ahead of the public build, and forcing my way through this period has been very difficult. Episode 3 has turned into a more challenging endeavour than I anticipated due to its sheer size and complexity. I did not intend to take over a year to finish it, but if I’ve learned anything from the creative process it’s that it is unpredictable and things never go according to plan.

The 2024 roadmap is for an idealized scenario. I am hoping I have given myself enough wiggle room should things go off-course. With that in mind, the plan for the last 6 months of the years is an estimate and will likely change. Regardless, the goal remains the same: finish Episode 3, finish Episode 4, and release Episode 3 publicly.

Winter • January to March

This quarter will be focused on finishing the next stages of Episode 3. Episode 3 is divided into 4 parts:

Part 1: the beginning of the episode, following the routes that occur if the player ends Episode 2 with Aeran or Veyer. This part is finished and was added to the alpha build in May 2023. It includes over 300,000 words of playable content.

Part 2: the beginning of the episode, following the routes that occur if the player ends Episode 2 with Melchior, alone, or drunk. This part was skipped over and will be returned to at a later date.

Part 3: the middle of the episode, split into three different routes that eventually bottleneck at a specific point. This part is currently in-progress, with Route 1 nearing completion.

Part 4: the episode finale

January and February will be devoted to writing Episode 3 Part 3, which includes finishing Route 1 and completing Routes 2 and 3. In March, I will code that material and playtest it. Once it has been thoroughly playtested, it will be added to the alpha build (playable on my Patreon).

March will also see an update to the public build. Patch 2.7. will not add any new content, but it will patch reported bugs in Episodes 1 and 2 and update some quality of life issues.

Spring • April to June

This quarter will be focused on writing Episode 3 Part 2, the Episode 3 finale, and coding and playtesting all of the remaining material. Should all go according to plan, the Episode 3 alpha will be finished at the end of June. All routes will be playable for members of my Patreon.

The next round of playtester applications will open in May. Playtesters are volunteers who play the alpha build in search of bugs, continuity errors, and typos. They get first access to new content, and updates and patches before anyone else does. Because Wayfarer’s gameplay includes hundreds of choices and many, many variations that build on each other, playing multiple times and checking different options is essential for testing to ensure each area of the game functions as intended.

In June bonus content (short stories, writing tutorials, worldbuilding and lore posts, etc) will return to my Patreon. It is currently on a break, but the backlog of extras and specials are available to members of the Apprentice tier.

Summer • July to September

If the Episode 3 alpha is finished on time, this quarter will start the development of Episode 4. Episode 4 is divided into three separate routes that have no-crossover and each feature a main companion. Alexia’s (Route A) will be worked on in August and Ren’s (Route B) will be worked on in September.

This is an estimated timeline and is subject to change.

Fall • October to December

The last quarter will see the end of Episode 4’s development. This includes Calla’s route (Route C) and additional coding and playtesting. A second round of playtester applications will open in October. If all goes well, December will see the release of the Episode 4 alpha on Patreon and Episode 3 will launch on the public build.

This is an estimated timeline and is subject to change.

#wayfarer #wayfarer if #housekeeping #announcements #dev log

228 notes · View notes

sturnioloshacker · 29 days

Text

coffee confession - a chris sturniolo short

a/n: not requested; lowercase intended

summary: chris comes to a realisation that he’s in love

chris had always been the kind of person who approached life with a pragmatic mindset. love, he believed, was something that happened to other people, not to him. yet, despite his rationality, there was one thing he couldn't quite shake: his growing feelings for someone unexpected. that someone was you. it all started out of pure innocence. chris was a regular at the coffee shop where you worked as a barista. you would take his order with a sweet and polite smile, and you would exchange brief conversations. but as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, chris found himself looking forward to his daily visits more and more.

he noticed the small details about you—the way you always added a cute note on his cup lid, the crinkle of your nose when you laughed with your co-workers, the gentle lilt of your voice when you gave him his drink. at first, chris dismissed these observations as mere curiosity. after all, he saw you smile like that with every customer that comes in. but as time went on, he noticed that no one else got cute little cup lid notes, that no one else got a sweet treat with their drink, that no one else received the slight shimmer in her eyes apart from him. he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. he was in love with you.

the realisation hit him like a ton of bricks one rainy morning after he and his brothers finished filming at 4am. they walked in and his eyes immediately focused on you. while matt and nick were discussing about the video they just filmed, chris was watching your every move. you were laughing with your favourite co-worker over something they said and it was in that moment that he knew with absolute certainty that he wanted to be one to make you laugh like that every day. but confessing his feelings was easier said than done.

chris was terrified of rejection, of ruining the easy connection they had developed over countless coffee orders. what if you didn’t feel the same way? what if you found his confession awkward and off-putting? for days, chris wrestled with these doubts in his mind, the voices making it overwhelming to think properly. but in the end, love won out over fear. summoning all his courage, chris approached the counter with a nervous smile, his hands trembling slightly as he watched you set down his usual drink.

“hey,” he said, his voice shaking as he breathes in deeply.

“listen, i know this might seem completely out of the blue, but there’s something i need to tell you.”

“sure, what’s up?”

taking another deep breath in, chris plunged ahead, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“i’ve spent a lot of time getting to know you, and... i’ve realized that I have feelings for you. more than just friendly feelings. i know it's probably unexpected, and maybe even a little awkward, but i couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

there was a moment of silence as you processed his confession, your expression unreadable. but then, to chris's astonishment and relief, a soft smile spread across your face, lighting up your eyes.

“i’ve been hoping you'd say that," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“i’ve been feeling the same way."

and just like that, everything fell into place. the doubts and fears that had plagued chris for so long melted away, replaced by a warmth and certainty he had never known before. as you reached across the counter to take his hand, chris knew that this was only the beginning of their journey together—a journey fuelled by love, courage, and the simple joy of sharing a cup of coffee with the person who had captured his heart.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets fluff

74 notes · View notes

edensbuttercups · 2 years

Text

Thank you - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a pretty long time, but finally it has been completed and I'm not too mad about it, which I deem a success. I've been trying to keep busy and write more, so if there's any requests, ideas, thoughts, anything really, I'm more than glad to read about them and discuss them or write about them ♡

(Also can you tell I suck at titles? Because I can)

Words: 1.8k

He sat on the edge of the sofa, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, sighing in disbelief at his realisation. He had lost them. His dad’s sunglasses. Gone. He looked everywhere, from the bedroom, to his jacket, his car, everywhere. He looked in each room, and the most he had found was some coins that had slipped into the kitchen drawer and some receipts that had been lying in one of his jackets for way too long.

It felt stupid for one moment, clinging on to an object that meant so little to so many people, but that was one of the things that made him feel the most at home. Even in his rarer moments of fear, the way the world assumed a tinted colour while he wore them comforted him enough to push on, making him feel closer to everything that he had lost. His fingers shook as he took a steady breath, standing up once again and looking around the room. Trying to retrace each step of the previous day, he stood dumbfounded when he realised that he had no clue when he last even had them on. He felt his chest tighten at the realisation, and this somehow felt worse than what he had gone through on that goddamn mission. This felt worse, and he couldn’t breathe, and all he could do was close his eyes and go back to last evening, hoping, really hoping that he could somehow retrace his steps.

“Over here!” you waved your hand over your head in an almost theatrical way, catching his attention from just outside the Hard Deck. You had agreed on meeting here as soon as he was done, and both of you had found a way to finish just a little ahead of schedule, wanting to spend some quality time after a few days of barely seeing each other because of work. He beamed when he saw you in that dress, one of his favourites, and ran the rest of the way, opening his arms wide to catch you in a hug and spin you around. His lips peppered soft kisses along your cheeks before settling for your lips, pulling you closer, not fully intending on letting you go. “Babe, we should go.” You tried to interject, loving the tickling sensation his moustache offered but painfully aware of how close the time was to inching to your reservation. “I told them 8pm sharp. And it’s-“ “7:39, honey. I know what I’m doing.” He cracked a smile and winked at you, his sunglasses slipping lower as he did, gracing you with the sight of his hazel eyes. “You know I don’t like being late.” “It’s a 5 minute drive from here and the Bronco is ready for us.” “But what if-“ "Most people will be here tonight.” He pointed behind you, reading the small sign that Penny had put up. Fridays: Karaoke night. All of the aviators had been challenging each other for the past month, choosing the cheesiest songs they could and making Fridays their night, singing their hearts out and enjoying the time together. And yet Rooster would rather have you to himself than humiliate Hangman at Karaoke.

The restaurant was basically empty and you were basically on time (with a whopping three minutes to spare, because yes, you had arrived early, but you also ended up in each other’s arms for some time, whispering sweet nothings and sharing kisses before finally leaving the car), and the waiter so kindly showed you your table, the view of the sea and the soft crashing of the waves in the distance lulling you into a comfortable silence. You ordered and talked for most of the evening, catching up on what had happened in the past few days, laughing at how into his storytelling Bradley got, gesturing around as he spoke. Once you recovered from your laughter you peaked down, seeing the small thing you had gotten earlier today for Bradley, smiling when you remembered about it. “You know, I was forgetting actually but… I got you something.” He laughed, raising his hands and insisting that you didn’t have to get him anything. “It’s a date, no gifts needed.” “I know, but I saw this and it reminded me of you.” You reached down for your bag and pulled the shirt up, smiling as he reached over to grab it, unfolding it to inspect it. It was simple, yet way more colourful than his favourite beige Hawaiian shirt. This one was dark blue and scattered with birds and flowers, some of the threads of gold, the material light and breezy, perfect for a summer evening. You watched as his eyes crinkled in adoration, absolutely adoring your choice. He peeled the shirt he was currently wearing and slipped the new one on. “It’s so elegant.” “You’re the only one that could call a Hawaiian shirt elegant, Roos.” “No, but come on, it’s fancy!” “It is fancy.” You laughed, seeing his excitement. “I love it.” “I’m happy you do.” you replied, your smile growing. “I love you.” he muttered, leaning over the table to kiss you, his hand cupping your cheek, feeling your smile at the gesture before reaching down to take his shirt off, substituting it with his new one, the colours making his skin glow.

“Honey, I’m home!” You joked from the door, walking into your house and coming to a halt when you saw Rooster standing in the middle of the living room, eyes scrunched up in concentration as he looked ahead, not yet aware of your presence. “Baby?” You walked over and shook him lightly, worried when his eyes found yours and one of the tears slipped from his eyes, his breathing picking up once more and inching towards frantic, the air escaping his lungs faster than he could take more in. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” “My glasses.” He said, and you could see the tension in his jaw, an attempt at keeping it together. He hated when his emotions got the best of him, knowing how he should be able to be calm and collected, but sometimes he just couldn’t. And when that sometime was over something as relatively silly as this? That made it worse. You reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek, leaning over to kiss him softly. “It’s okay, we’ll find them. You had them yesterday.” you said, remembering when you had met before going out. He had them on when he kissed you, and he had them on until he climbed into the Bronco, slipping them in his shirt’s pocket. You went over the night aloud, adding some comments here and there to try to get him to smile, like how how pretty he looked when he picked you up wearing them, or how he definitely had them when he made out with you, almost making you late_, barely getting a reaction from him, but still proud of the slight twitch in his lips. “Your new shirt.” You said, finally stopping your ramble and glancing up at him, one hand up at the connection you made. “I already checked, they’re not-” “No, I mean, I gave you the new shirt last night. You took them off before that.” You tried to think back to when you got home. It was late, and you had drank, which made this task harder, especially when all you could truly focus on was the way he had held you once you walked through the door, his hands holding you steady as you slipped your shoes off, the darkness surrounding both of you as you made your way to the bedroom. You reached the bedroom, looking down on the floor. No shirt there, but… “The car? Did you check in the-?” “Yes.” he interrupted you, tone harsh and frustrated. “Bradley.” You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed while stopping your movements. You knew he was frustrated, you knew he was panicking, but you were only trying to help. “I’m sorry.” You nodded. You knew he was, and his tone was honest, no matter how harshly that also came out as. “Help me look. Where did you leave your shirt? The old one.” you specified this time, taking a deep breath. “Laundry.” He pouted slightly, aware of your intent in helping him, but still annoyed and upset about the situation. He wasn’t panicking anymore though, which he was thankful for.

You nodded once more, walking into the bathroom and stopping the washing machine, waiting for some of the water to drain before opening it, rummaging through in search. “Here it is!” you exclaimed victoriously, pulling out his shirt, soapy and drenched, eyes on him. You watched him as his expression changed from stern to relieved, his eyes softening and welling up when he saw the familiar outline in the dripping pocket, kneeling alongside you and pulling them out. A soapy mess, but intact and fine and perfect. “See, it all worked out.” You said, placing a hand on his arm, letting out a squeal when he pulled you in his arms, trapping the wet shirt in between your bodies. Neither of you cared, his relief making his grumpy mood immediately vanish, and the feeling of being in your arms making your victory all the more worth it. “I love you.” He muttered into your shoulder, holding you close. “I know it was silly, sorry for how I acted.” “Roos.” You pulled away, searching for his eyes, placing your hand on his cheek. “I know what they mean to you. You’ve had them for your whole life. They’re important to you, and anything that is important to you is not silly, not to me. Okay?” He smiled at your words, nodding. “And I love you too.” You added with a smile. “Good.” he chuckled lightly, standing and bringing you up with him, the shirt falling with a plop onto the floor. “We should probably get out of these wet clothes, right?” He asked with a smirk, drying his sunglasses on the bit of his shirt that was still dry, gently placing them on the bridge of his nose with a charming smile, his hand trailing up your arm, slipping under the strap of your dress. He let his mouth fall agape when the strap slipped down your arm, pretending to be surprised by his own action. “You're unbelievable.” you said back, smirking yourself as you reached nonetheless for his shirt, pulling the material up to reveal his skin. "And you love that." he winked, laughing.Shirt and dress discarded, he couldn’t help but look at you, pulling you back against him, his arms tight around you. “Thank you.” He whispered again, holding onto you for just a moment longer, before picking you up and taking you to the bedroom, knowing just how he could thank you.

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster x y/n #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #top gun imagine #top gun fanfic #tgm #top gun maverick fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin.

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that.

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness.

02.

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester.

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time.

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture.

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red.

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao.

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day.

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before.

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do.

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists.

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke.

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater.

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.”

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him.

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?”

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!”

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much.

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05.

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being.

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest.

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations.

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later.

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks.

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie.

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.”

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06.

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year.

But you let him in anyway.

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years.

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you?

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with.

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you?

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up.

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…”

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you?

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it.

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him.

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long.

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago.

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh.

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love.

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel.

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor.

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all.

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work.

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you.

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end.

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares.

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ?

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist.

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems.

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.”

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao.

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception.

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.”

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at.

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin xiao #xiao fanfic #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #cryoculus

1K notes · View notes