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berryispunk · 3 months ago

Text

Everything But Us

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

tags: we suffer first we love later, idiots in love, friends to lovers, dual POV, slow burn (but boy! worth it), once again talking is difficult, the boys have an appearance, best friend! Frankie, soft! Frankie, longing, mutual pining, ANGST, love confessions, tiny mention of past addiction, emotional turmoil, SMUT (🌶️🌶️🌶️), kissing, swearing, wrap it up in real life please, no further physical description of reader apart from wearing a dress and having hair

summary: You danced around your feelings for each other, always toeing the line but never daring to cross it—until one fateful night in October, when hesitation gave way to something undeniable, changing everything forever.

notes: Did I write this in one manic sitting today? Absolutely. Any mistakes you find are mine. Happy Frankie Friday !

word count: 7,3 k

also readable on ao3

How was he supposed to tell you that his whole world revolved around you? That one night back in October had changed everything for him. You were both drunk, out of your minds, laughing afterward.

��Sorry,” you hiccuped, your fingers tracing the one patch on his cheek where his beard never fully grew. You looked at it like it was something special, like it was the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. Painfully unaware of how even the simplest touch from you set his skin on fire. Your fingers trailed along his jaw, up to his ear, and finally tangled in the tousled locks peeking out from under his cap—the one he was hardly ever without. Your eyes were glazed, unfocused from too many tequila shots. You were absolutely adorable when you were tipsy. Carefree. Relaxed. And, by God, it made him want you even more.

His head fell back against the taxi seat, eyes closing as he prayed to whatever cosmic force was listening that you were too drunk to notice how hard it was for him to hold back. But you were right there, purring next to his ear, your head resting against the seat beside him.

“You’re always so damn sweet, Frankie,” you murmured. “So attentive and kind. Why the hell are you still single?”

The words hit him where it hurt the most— his heart. Up until tonight, he had kept his respectful distance. Admiring you from afar, letting himself be what you allowed him to be: a friend. He even picked you up from all the failed dates, letting you ramble about whatever loser you thought was worthy of your time. He held you when you cried over another broken heart, never once overstepping, even when he wanted to. Even when your head rested on his shoulder, your breathing finally even after a sob-filled night, and he turned his head just slightly—just enough that he could have kissed your forehead. When, in reality, he wanted to kiss your lips. His hand would draw soothing circles up and down your arm, steadying you, grounding you. He stayed longer than necessary, making sure you were okay before he left. Placing water and painkillers on your nightstand because he knew you’d need them in the morning. And you did.

“You’re my lifesaver, Morales🩷”

That was the text you sent the next day, and he had smiled like an idiot at his phone before reality came crashing back. Because even if you meant it, it never meant the same thing to you.

Then came tonight.

The two of you had split off from the rest of your friends, waiting for a taxi on the curb. And out of nowhere, you stepped closer. Wrapped your arms around his neck. Played with the hair at the nape of it like you belonged there.

“You’re so damn cute, you know that?” His cheeks burned instantly.

“You’re drunk and out of your mind, hermosa,” he said, his hands settling at your waist. The warmth of your skin seeped through the thin fabric of your dress—one that you probably shouldn’t have been wearing in the October chill, but you had insisted ‘dress season was all year long’. And, damn, were you right. The way you paired it with tights and Doc Martens was a sight he knew would haunt his dreams. His thumbs traced slow circles over your hips as he held you, watching you carefully, preparing for whatever you’d throw at him next. With you, it could be anything—an insult or the sweetest compliment. There was no in-between when you were like this.

And then something shifted. You looked at him for a fraction too long. Your eyes flickered to his lips before finding his gaze again. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, and his grip tightened instinctively. You made this so damn hard for him.

“You cold?” he asked, desperate to break the tension simmering between you.

You shook your head, smirking. “I have my own personal heater. I’m fine.”

Then you closed the distance completely, pressing yourself against him. Softness against hardness, in all the right and wrong places, and his head spun. The alcohol in his system didn’t help. He hugged you back, letting your body heat mingle with his. Letting himself close his eyes and pretend—for just a moment—that this was real.

And now, here you were, in the taxi. So close. Too close. Something in him snapped.

His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. You leaned into his touch with a small, tired smile, and his stomach twisted painfully. Such a simple gesture, yet so intimate it stole the air from his lungs. He leaned in, just a little, close enough to share the same breath, still giving you space to pull away. But you didn’t. You trusted him. And he would never take advantage of that, so he inhaled sharply, forcing himself to pull back with the last restraint left. But before he could, you reached for him. Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, and then your lips crashed onto his. It was electrifying. Addictive.

For a split second, he thought he was dreaming. But then your hand tugged at his hair, and he knew he wasn’t. This was real. And it was better than he had ever imagined. He melted into the kiss, letting you take the lead. Too afraid that if he kissed you the way he wanted to, he might ruin everything. Might scare you off. Your lips were soft but purposeful, tasting like tequila and the faintest trace of strawberry—the lip gloss you had put on before leaving the bar. You tasted like a promise of something he had never dared to dream about.

And then—just as suddenly as it had started—it ended. Your forehead rested against his, your breath slightly shallow. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, something new flickered in your gaze. A depth that wasn’t there before. Then it was gone.

“Are you okay?” he asked cautiously, picking up on the way your expression had shifted. His stomach clenched with dread. Your face paled. Next thing he knew, you were throwing open the window and vomiting onto the street. His eyes widened in horror.

Had he kissed that badly?

Panic surged through him as he scooted closer, rubbing a hand over your back, shouting to the driver to pull over. This was not how he had imagined this moment going. Not at all.

The taxi came to a screeching halt at the curb, and Frankie barely had time to reach into his wallet to pay before he was helping you out of the car. You groaned, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “God, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, swaying slightly on your feet.

He steadied you with a firm hand on your waist. “Nothing to apologize for, hermosa,” he said softly. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

You nodded, pressing your forehead briefly to his shoulder like you were gathering the strength to move. Then, with a deep breath, you straightened and started walking. Your place wasn’t far, just a few blocks, but it felt longer with the way you stumbled every few steps. Frankie kept his arm wrapped securely around you, guiding you through the quiet streets. The cool night air bit at his skin, but it did little to cool the heat still lingering in his blood from the kiss.

That damn kiss.

He kept replaying it in his head, trying to convince himself it hadn’t meant anything. That it had been nothing more than a drunken mistake. But the way your lips had moved against his, the way your fingers had tangled in his hair—it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt like everything.

By the time they reached your apartment, you were half-asleep against him. He fished your keys from your purse and guided you inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, leading you down the hallway to your room.

You collapsed onto the mattress with a content sigh, stretching out like a cat before rolling onto your side to look at him. He bent down, pulling your boots off and setting them neatly beside the bed. Then he reached for the blanket, ready to tuck you in and leave before he did something stupid. But then you spoke.

“Frankie?”

His movements stilled. “Yeah?”

Your voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “Did you ever think about sleeping with me?”

His throat went dry. You were looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, your expression unreadable. And suddenly, the air in the room felt suffocating. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to tell the truth. To admit that he had thought about it more times than he could count. That he had dreamed about you, fantasized about what it would be like to have you beneath him, to feel your nails digging into his skin, to hear his name fall from your lips like it was the only thing that mattered. But he couldn’t tell you that. Because you were drunk. And he was supposed to be your friend.

So he forced a chuckle, shaking his head. “No,” he lied, the word tasting like poison on his tongue. “Never crossed my mind.”

Something flickered in your expression—something like disappointment—but it was gone before he could be sure. You hummed softly, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling.

“Liar,” you murmured, but there was no bite to it. Just quiet acceptance.

Frankie swallowed hard.

“Get some sleep,” he said, pulling the blanket over you and stepping back before he did something reckless. He turned off the light, lingering in the doorway for just a second longer than he should have. And then he left. Because if he stayed any longer, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep lying.

Winter had come and gone, and with it, any mention of that night in October. You never brought it up. And Frankie never dared to. Not the kiss. Not the question you had asked him in the dim light of your bedroom. Not the way your voice had curled around the word liar like you already knew the truth. So he buried it. Shoved it deep into the same corner of his mind where he kept every other impossible feeling he had for you.

Now, the air smelled like spring—fresh rain on warm pavement, flowers blooming.The chill had faded, replaced with sun-kissed skin and longer days. And with it, you were glowing too. Frankie was trying not to notice, but it was to no avail. You sat across from him at the bar, wedged between two of your friends, laughing as you stirred your drink with a cocktail straw. You were in another one of those damn sundresses, bare legs crossed as you leaned forward excitedly.

“She’s talking about him again,” Benny muttered under his breath, taking a swig of his beer. Frankie clenched his jaw. He knew exactly who him was. Some guy you had met at a coffee shop a few weeks ago. Apparently, he’d bumped into you in line, spilled a bit of his overpriced espresso on your sleeve, and instead of being pissed, you had laughed about it. Frankie hated him instantly.

“He’s just—ugh, I don’t know,” you gushed, shaking your head with a dreamy sigh. “There’s something about him.” Frankie rolled his beer bottle between his palms, staring at the table instead of you. Something about him.

Frankie had been something about you for years.

“I mean, it’s still early, obviously,” you continued, oblivious to the way his grip tightened around his drink. “But I don’t know, it just feels easy. Like we just clicked.” He forced a smirk, lifting his bottle to his lips. “Sounds perfect.” Drowning all the bad feelings bubbling up in alcohol. If you picked up on the flatness in his tone, you didn’t say anything. You just shrugged, swirling the ice in your glass before taking another sip. “It’s nice to be excited about someone, you know?”

Frankie hummed in response, taking another long sip of his beer and glancing down at the nearly empty bottle, as if the answers to all his unasked questions were waiting at the bottom. Excited, right.

Of course, he wanted you to be happy. That’s what he told himself every time you brought up some new guy, every time you smiled at a text that wasn’t from him, every time you looked across the bar for someone else. But tonight, something about the way you were talking about this one was different. Frankie could feel it, tightening in his chest like a warning.

And he knew, deep down, that if he kept lying to himself, if he kept pretending he was fine watching you fall for someone else—

One day, he might actually believe it.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Frankie had always been the quieter one in your group, measured and steady. A man of few words but with an unwavering presence. But lately, something had shifted. It was in the way he reacted when you talked about the guy you were seeing. The way his usual teasing remarks had dulled, his responses clipped and distant. The way he smiled, but it never quite reached his eyes anymore. You noticed, of course you did. But you didn’t ask. Maybe because you weren't sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Because if you look too closely, you might have to admit what had always been there—what you had spent years trying to ignore. Frankie had never just been a friend to you. Not really. There had been a time, long before that night in October, when you had wondered. Let your mind drift to the thought of what it would be like to be his.

To be the reason behind his softest smiles, the one he reached for without hesitation.

You had wanted that once. Wanted him, but you buried it. Swallowed it down and forced yourself to forget. Because Frankie was good. Too good. The kind of man who stayed. The kind of man who meant what he said and never made promises he couldn’t keep. And you, you were a wreck. A walking contradiction of bad choices and broken hearts. You loved too easily. Trusted too quickly. And time and time again, it left you standing in the ruins of something you should have never believed in to begin with. You couldn’t do that to him.

So you convinced yourself that friendship was enough. That it had to be enough. Because losing him? That was the one thing you knew you wouldn’t survive. But then came the kiss.

And now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bury it. Couldn’t forget the way he felt, the way he tasted, the way he let you kiss him but didn’t pull you closer, didn’t give in the way you thought he would. Like he had wanted to but also didn’t. Like he had been holding back. You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it was nothing. That it was just the alcohol, just the moment, just a mistake. And for a while, you almost believed it.

Then you met him, Luke. Someone new. Someone who checked every box, said all the right things, wanted you without hesitation. It should have been easy, you should have felt relieved, happy even.

But every time you looked at Frankie, you could feel it—the weight of something unspoken pressing down on you. The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes anymore. The way he laughed at all the right times but never really looked at you the way he used to. You told yourself you were imagining it,that you were reading into things that weren’t there. But late at night, when you were lying next to Luke, it wasn’t him you thought about.

It was Frankie. And no matter how much you tried to deny it—that changed everything.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived at Will’s house, your fingers laced with your boyfriend’s as you stepped inside. The air was thick with the smell of beer, grilled food, and whatever cologne Benny, Will’s brother, had drowned himself in. Laughter and music spilled from the open back doors where most of your friends had gathered, voices overlapping, drinks in hand, the kind of effortless camaraderie that had always made you feel at home.

But something felt off tonight. Or maybe it was just you.

Because for the first time in years, Frankie wasn’t there to greet you with that familiar, easy smile. He wasn’t hovering nearby, teasing you about being late or making sure you had a drink in hand. No, Frankie was across the room, deep in conversation with Will and Santi, nursing a beer like it was the only thing anchoring him in place. And he hadn’t looked at you once, even though you were sure he knew you had arrived—if not by seeing you, then by Benny’s over-the-top greeting

You tried not to notice, tried to focus on introducing your boyfriend to everyone, on smiling and laughing in all the right places. But no matter where you were, some part of you was always aware of him, lingering just at the edge of your orbit. How he kept his distance, how he barely spoke to you. How, for the first time since you’d met him, it felt like he was avoiding you. And the worst part? It hurt. You weren’t supposed to care this much. You had a boyfriend now. A good guy. A guy who wanted you, who didn’t hesitate, who didn’t hold back.

Then why did it feel like something was slipping through your fingers? Like you were losing Frankie—losing something you never dared to name, but had always felt, just beneath the surface?

It wasn’t until later, when the party had thinned out and the night had settled into something softer, that you finally found him alone. Outside and smoking, something you always did together. But tonight, he hadn’t waited for you. didn’t even ask. Tonight, it was just him, leaning against the railing of Will’s back porch, staring out at nothing, cigarette glowing between his fingers. And for the first time in weeks, you asked the question that had been gnawing at you since this whole thing started.

“What’s going on with you?”

Frankie didn’t look at you right away. He took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a stream of smoke into the cool night air before finally shifting his gaze toward you. His eyes, usually so warm, were unreadable.

"Nothing," he said, voice low and gruff. You frowned, stepping closer. "Bullshit." That almost got a reaction—almost. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smirk, but it never quite made it there. Instead, he flicked the ash from his cigarette, shaking his head. "You should get back inside," he muttered. "Your boyfriend’s probably looking for you." The words landed like a slap. Of course he was right, but throwing this at you in this moment felt purposefully hurtful. Your arms crossed over your chest, not from the cold but from the sudden, unfamiliar distance between you. "What the hell is your problem?"

Frankie let out a slow breath, shaking his head again, but this time, it wasn’t dismissive. It was like he was trying to hold something back, something threatening to spill over.

"You’ve been acting weird all night," you pressed, stepping even closer. "Hell, for weeks now. And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know you, Frankie. I know when something’s wrong." His jaw tensed, and for a second, you thought he might actually tell you. That maybe, finally, he’d say whatever had been weighing on him. But then he just chuckled, low and humorless. "Nothing’s wrong, hermosa. I’m fine."

You know he was lying. You could see it, the way his shoulders stayed tight, the way he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes for too long. And suddenly, the space between you felt impossible to conquer.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "You don’t get to do this."

Frankie quirked an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"Shut me out," you snapped. "Act like I don’t exist all night and then pretend like I’m the one imagining things." His lips pressed into a thin line, his grip tightening around the cigarette between his fingers. "You have a boyfriend now," he said after a beat, voice quieter. "Things are just… different."

The words stung in a way you didn’t expect.

"Different?" You repeated, barely above a whisper. "You made them different, Frankie. Not me." For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint music drifting from inside, laughter from the party carrying on without you.

And then, softer, almost hesitant, you asked, "Did I do something?" Your brows furrowed, the hurt evident in your voice, written all over your face. His eyes snapped to yours at that, something unreadable flashing through them. "No," he said quickly—almost too quickly. "You didn’t do anything."

Then why did it feel like you had? Why did it feel like something had changed between you, like a line had been drawn and you hadn’t even realized you crossed it?

Frankie sighed, running a hand over his face before stubbing out his cigarette on the railing. "You should go back inside."

But before you could respond, the door creaked open behind you. A rush of warm air, laughter, and music spilled onto the porch. You turned just in time to see Luke stepping outside, his gaze flickering between you and Frankie. His expression didn’t change much, no obvious anger, no accusation, but something in his eyes told you he’d seen enough. Enough to notice the way you stood too close. Enough to feel the tension crackling between you and Frankie like a live wire.

"Hey," he said, his voice even, unreadable. "Everything okay out here?" You swallowed hard, forcing a nod. "Yeah. Just getting some air."

Frankie had already taken a step back. He nodded once at Luke, then flicked his cigarette into the yard, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I was just heading inside." And just like that, the moment was gone. You watched as Frankie disappeared through the door, slipping seamlessly back into the party, into the noise, into the version of himself that had nothing to hide. But you knew better now. Because whatever this was, whatever had been simmering between you for longer than you wanted to admit, wasn't one-sided. And now, someone else had seen it too.

As you sat in Luke’s car later, the air was thick with something unspoken. The only sound was the hum of the engine, not even music to fill the silence. You felt his eyes flicker toward you more than once, lingering just long enough to make your skin prickle. You pretended not to notice, kept your gaze fixed outside, watching the city lights blur past. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope—beautiful, distorted, and just a little unreal.

Then, finally, he spoke. “Is there something going on with you and Frankie?” Your breath caught. It was the question you had been waiting for, the one you had feared. You turned your head, but he kept his eyes on the road, fingers tightening around the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.

“Luke—”

“Just tell me the truth,” he interrupted, his voice steady, but laced with something raw underneath. “I’m not stupid. I saw the way he looked at you tonight. And the way you looked at him.”

Your stomach twisted. You could lie, smooth it over, tell him he was imagining things, that Frankie was just a friend. But the weight in your chest was suffocating, and you were so damn tired of pretending.

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Luke exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “You don’t know.”

“I—” Your voice cracked. “I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you.”

He finally looked at you then, and it was worse than if he had been angry. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes told you everything—he already knew. He had known for longer than he let on. Maybe he could even feel it, that you were never quite there, even though he treated you the way you had always wanted to be treated. And you hated it. Hated yourself for feeling this way, for not being able to be happy with what was right in front of you.

“So you love him.” Not a question—a statement. It crashed down on you, effortless and undeniable, giving a name to the feeling you had denied yourself for so long before you were even ready to do it yourself. Tears burned in your eyes as you shook your head, grasping for words that wouldn’t make this worse. “I don’t.. I-It’s not that simple.”

“But it is, isn’t it?” His voice was quiet, but the weight of it settled deep in your bones.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I wanted this to work, Luke. I really did.” A heavy silence stretched between you. Neither of you had anything left to say. Slowly, he pulled the car over to the curb in front of your apartment. The click of the gear shift the only sound between you. You didn’t ask why. You already knew. With shaking hands, you unclipped your seatbelt, wiping at your cheeks as you reached for the door handle.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time but Luke didn’t respond.

And as you stepped out into the cold night air, you knew this was the end of this chapter and the beginning of a new one you weren’t quite sure you were ready for.

Frankie was barely holding it together. Every day felt like a fight against something clawing at his chest, something desperate and ugly that whispered you lost her, you fucking lost her. He tried to drown it out by keeping himself busy, working longer hours and spending more nights drinking just to feel something other than the ache. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing was.

And then, one night, the thought crept in—familiar, insidious. Just one line. Just to take the edge off. He hadn’t really thought about it in years, hadn’t let himself even consider it, but tonight, with his hands shaking and his heart racing like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest, it was right there. Too easy. The voice getting louder by the second.

He might’ve done it, too. Might’ve given in if Santi hadn’t knocked on his door like he knew. Like he always knew. Frankie barely got the door open before Santi was pushing inside, eyes sharp, taking one look at him and shaking his head. “Jesus, Fish,” he muttered, slamming the door behind him. “You look like shit.”

Frankie let out a humorless laugh, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, fingers digging into the tense muscles. “Yeah, well. Feels about right.” Santi didn’t push, didn’t pry, just walked to the kitchen, grabbed two beers from the fridge, and tossed one his way. “Sit your ass down,” he ordered, voice softer than his words hit. “And start talking.”

And somehow, for the first time in weeks, Frankie did.

He let out a shaky breath, fingers still rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the beer in his hand. He hadn’t meant to say anything. Hadn’t meant to let it slip. But once he started talking, it all came out—how he thought he was doing the right thing, how he tried to be happy for you, tried to step back and let you have what you deserved.

How it was fucking killing him.

He told Santi about the party, about the way you looked at him like you knew something had changed but couldn’t figure out what. How he avoided you because being close to you and not having you felt worse than anything he’d ever gone through. Worse than any withdrawal, any loss, any mistake he’d ever made. And then Santi said it. Just threw it out there like it wasn’t about to flip Frankie’s entire world upside down.

“You know she broke up with him, right?”

Frankie’s head snapped up so fast it almost hurt. “What?”

Santi sighed, giving him a look like he couldn’t believe he had to be the one spelling this out. “Luke. She ended it.” He took a sip of his beer, eyes flicking to Frankie’s. “She didn’t tell you?”

Frankie could only shake his head, something tight and desperate clawing its way up his throat. Because suddenly, all those nights of shoving his feelings down, of convincing himself that you were happy, that you were better off didn’t mean anything. Because if it wasn’t Luke anymore, if you chose to leave, then maybe… maybe it wasn’t just him feeling like something between you was never really gone.

But still, he hesitated, because doubt was a stubborn thing. He spent so long convincing himself that he wasn’t what you wanted, what you deserved. “That doesn’t mean—”

“Fish.” Santi’s voice cut through his thoughts, steady and sure. “You love her. She sure as hell loves you. And if you don’t do something about it now, you’re gonna spend the rest of your life regretting it.”

Frankie swallowed hard, the small flicker of hope battling against the fear still weighing heavy on his chest.

Maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t too late.

It happened after weeks of avoiding each other. After Luke, after everything, you pulled away, trying to get space, trying to breathe. But Frankie noticed. Of course, he noticed. He always did.

So when he showed up at your apartment in the middle of the night, you weren’t even surprised. You hesitated before opening the door, but when you did, the sight of him nearly took the air from your lungs. He looked like hell. Dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, like he had been running his hands through it in frustration for hours. His jacket hung loose off his shoulders, and there was something wrecked about him—something that made your stomach twist.

"You gonna let me in?" His voice was rough, just a quiet rumble in the stillness of the night.

You should have said no. Should have told him this wasn’t a good idea. But instead, you stepped aside.

He walked in like he didn’t even know what to do with himself, pacing a little before finally stopping in the middle of your living room, hands on his hips. The air was thick, suffocating, before he exhaled sharply and turned to face you.

"Are you leaving me too?"

The words hit like a punch to the ribs.

"Frankie–"

"Because I feel like I’m chasing something that doesn’t even want to be caught," he cut in, his voice tight. "Like I’m standing here, waiting for you to just—just fucking look at me, and you won’t." His jaw clenched. "And I don’t know if it’s because you don’t want to, or because you’re too damn scared to."

Your arms wrapped around yourself, like that would somehow hold you together. "I just… I needed time. To think."

Frankie scoffed, dragging a hand down his face. "Right. And did you figure it out?"

You hated the bitterness in his voice. Hated that you put it there.

"I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. Frankie took a step closer, and just like that, the air shifted.

"Then tell me what you want." Your throat tightened. "I can’t."

"Why not?" He was closer now, his voice raw, edged with something desperate. "Because if you say it, it becomes real?"

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Frankie exhaled sharply, shaking his head, stepping back like he needed the distance, like if he stayed too close, he’d do something neither of you could take back. "You know, it’s funny," he said, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "I spent so fucking long convincing myself that I didn’t have a chance. That you’d never see me like that." His jaw tensed. "And then you kissed me. And for one second—for one fucking second—I let myself think I was wrong."

Your breath caught again. "Frankie—"

"But I wasn’t, was I?" His voice was quiet, the hurt in it deafening. "You didn’t want me. You never did."

That broke something in you and you snapped.

"I never let myself want you!" The moment the words were out in the open, you couldn’t take them back.

Frankie froze.

Your hands were shaking, but you pushed forward, because if you stopped now, you’d never say it. "You were safe. You were the one person I could always count on. And I knew if I let myself want more, I’d ruin it, like I ruined everything else. Because that’s just what I’m good at. Being a mess." Your voice cracked, but you didn’t stop. "So I buried it. Every time I looked at you and felt—" You sucked in a breath, blinking back tears. "I convinced myself that friendship was enough. That it had to be enough."

Frankie’s breathing was uneven now, his dark eyes locked onto yours, searching, waiting.

"And now?" he asked, voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Because you didn’t know how to say it. But then Frankie moved. Closed the space between you in two long strides, until he was so close you could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint mix of cologne and a cigarette he probably had before he came here.

"Tell me to leave," he murmured, his voice low and unsteady. "If you don’t want this—if you don’t want me—tell me to leave."

Your heart pounded so hard it was unignorable. You didn’t answer, you didn’t need to. The way he looked at you, his beautiful brown eyes you had grown to admire so much, looked right through you. Into your soul, seeing what you didn’t even have the words for. Because you didn’t want him to leave. Not now. Not ever. In fact, for the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be—with him. His hand lifted, hesitated—then cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone like he was memorizing the feel of you. In the quiet of your apartment, the energy altered. Heavy. Electric. Inevitable.

His head dipped, and then his lips crashed onto yours with such force it stole the breath from your lungs, made you stumble back a step. Your hands found his face, holding him close as you melted into the kiss. But this time, it was different. He didn’t hold back like he had all those months ago. His fingers dug into your waist as he coaxed your mouth open, his tongue sliding against yours, deep and consuming. He walked you back with purpose, step after step, until your back met the hallway wall with a soft thud. The impact knocked over a few picture frames from the drawer beside you, but neither of you noticed. Because right then, there was only this. Only him.

The moment your back hit the wall, Frankie was on you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, fisting your shirt like he wanted to tear it off but couldn’t decide if he should. His mouth was hot, insistent, his tongue pushing past your lips as he pressed his body against yours, a low groan rumbling from his chest, deep and dangerous in its intensity.

You whimpered into the kiss, fingers threading through his curls, tugging just enough to make him hiss. It only spurred him on. His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him to you as he carried you down the hallway, lips never leaving yours, knocking into the walls like neither of you could think straight enough to care. But when he reached your bedroom, he paused.

Breathing hard, he set you down gently, hands still gripping your hips as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” His voice was hoarse, uneven. “Tell me now if you’re not, because I swear, I won’t—”

You cut him off, brushing your lips against his, softer this time, your fingers tracing along his jaw. “I’m sure, Frankie.”

His eyes searched yours, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. Like he didn’t trust that this wasn’t some cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

“I need to hear you say it,” he murmured.

Your heart clenched. You cupped his face, brushing your thumb over the furrow between his brows. “I want this. I want you.”

Something in him unraveled at your words, tension melting from his shoulders. He exhaled sharply, nodding once before his lips crashed onto yours again, this time with more certainty, more purpose. You gasped when he finally dropped you onto your bed, following you down, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His hands pushed beneath your shirt, sliding up your stomach, your ribs, your breasts—palming you, squeezing just enough to make your back arch. He cursed under his breath, yanking the fabric over your head, barely giving you time to breathe before his mouth was on you again, kissing, biting, sucking a path down your throat.

“F-Frankie,” you gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails dragging down his back as he sucked a bruise into your collarbone. His hands made quick work of your clothes, tugging them off as he peppered kisses down your throat, over your collarbone, down your stomach. Every touch, every glance was heavy with something deeper, something unspoken. He took his time, learning every inch of you with his lips, his tongue, his hands, until you were trembling beneath him, breathless and aching.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped against your skin, his breath hot. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Instead, you cupped his face, pulling him back up to you, crashing your lips into his.

You barely registered him kicking off his own jeans before his hands were on your thighs, spreading you open, gently tracing along the soft skin of your thighs despite the deep-seated need that was mirrored in his dark pupils. His fingers finally found your heat, sliding through the wetness pooling there.

“Fuck. You’re soaked, hermosa.”

You whimpered in response, hips bucking into his touch. “Frankie, please—”

That was all it took. He groaned, deep and low, as he pushed into you, sinking in inch by inch, stretching you, filling you completely. It was almost too much and at the same time not enough. His jaw clenched, his grip on your hips tightening like he was holding on for dear life.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breath ragged. “You feel—” He shook his head, like he couldn’t even find the words.

You whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders. “Move, Frankie. Please.”

And then it was desperate. Frankie thrust into you, slow at first, deep and deliberate, watching your face for any sign of hesitation. But when all he saw was pleasure, when all he heard was the way you gasped his name like it was the only thing keeping you tethered, his restraint snapped.

He picked up the pace, fucking you harder now, rougher, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be bruises, but you didn’t care—you wanted them, needed them. A visible reminder of this finally happening.

His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, over and over, breathless, broken. He cupped your face, forcing you to look at him, his own expression wrecked and raw.

“Look at me,” he panted, rocking into you, the friction sending sparks through your veins. “I need—I need to see you when you come.”

It wasn’t a request, it was an order. Your breath caught. The coil in your stomach tightened, tightened, until finally, it snapped. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you cried out his name.

Frankie groaned, his hips stuttering before he thrust deep one last time, burying himself inside you as he came with a ragged moan, his whole body trembling against yours. You felt it—the warmth of him spilling deep, the way his cock twitched inside you as he pulsed through the aftershocks. A shiver ran down your spine, the intimacy of it all-consuming, overwhelming in the best way.

His breath came hot and uneven against your neck as he pressed soft, lazy kisses to your skin, grounding himself in you, like he never wanted to leave. His hands, still gripping your hips moments ago, softened, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin. The only sound between you was the heavy rhythm of your breathing, the pounding of your hearts against sweat-dampened skin. Neither of you moved. He didn’t pull away. He just stayed there, forehead resting against yours, hands cradling your face as if you might disappear.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as your fingers trailed gentle patterns up and down his back. After a moment, he brushed a few damp strands of hair from your face, his eyes tired but his smile warm, almost glowing.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle, searching.

You huffed out a quiet laugh, still tracing lazy circles on his back. "You’re asking me that now?"

Frankie grinned, breathless, his nose brushing against yours. "Just making sure you haven’t changed your mind."

Rolling your eyes, you let your fingers glide over his shoulder. "If I had, you’d be the first to know."

His hands drifted down your sides, slow and reverent, as if still memorizing every inch of you. "Good," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

Something tight in your chest loosened, and you swallowed past the lump in your throat. "Yeah?"

Frankie leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, his fingers playing with your hair, his expression softer than you had ever seen. "Yeah," he said, like a promise, like an unshakable truth. "Not now. Not ever."

A shaky breath escaped you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you pulled him down into another kiss—slower this time, deeper. Less desperate, but just as intense. Eventually, he sighed, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke.

"So, what now?"

You grinned, threading your fingers through his tousled locks. "Well, I’d say we could clean up the mess we made, but that would require moving, and I’m not sure I’m capable of that yet."

He chuckled, his chest rumbling against yours, warm and solid. "I think I broke a picture frame."

"You did."

"Guess I’ll have to replace it."

Tilting your head, you smirked. "You’re planning on sticking around long enough to redecorate?"

Frankie’s eyes darkened, filled with something you recognized now—something you were no longer afraid to name. His hands tightened around your waist, anchoring you to him. "You gonna let me?" You pretended to consider, but he saw right through you. He always had.

"I guess I can make room for you," you teased, running a fingertip over the patch in his beard, which, from up close almost looked like a heart.

Frankie smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Good. Because I wasn’t asking."

And just like that, the weight of every missed moment, every hesitation, every doubt that had once stood between you disappeared. Because this—him, you, together—was exactly where you were always meant to be.

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coolemmasulivan2 · 7 months ago

Text

But Look Who He Follows

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Reader

Summary: You and Pedri have been keeping your relationship a secret, but when an interview is about to reveal that he follows you on Instagram instead of your brother, things may have to change.

Word count: 3156

Author's note: Inspired by Pedri's interview on Martínez y Hermanos.

Pedri wrapped a toilet around his waist and stepped out of the shower. The locker room was almost empty. Ferran, Dani, Cubarsí and Casadó were the only ones left.

As he began to get dressed, Ferran and Dani sat down beside him—one on each side.

Pedri glanced up from tying his sneakers and looked at them confused. "¿Qué passa?" (What?)

"Pensé que éramos amigos, hermano!" Ferran teased him. (I thought we were friends, man!)

Pedri furrowed his eyebrows.

Dani raised a hand to cover his mouth as he spoke. "So, today when I arrived I saw you having a chat with Cubarsí's sister." Pedri froze, the color draining from his face. "I mean, nothing wrong with that. I’ve talked to her a bunch of times. She’s super nice."

"But..." Ferran cut in this time, a mischievous grin playing on his face. "I heard you two were very close. Like... very, very close."

Pedri’s gaze darted to the far end of the locker room, where Cubarsí was deep in conversation with Casadó.

"What's going on? You two dating or something?" Ferran’s voice was loud enough to echo in the nearly empty locker room, and Pedri’s face flushed red with panic

"¡Cállate, idiota!" He hissed, glaring at Ferran. His eyes flicked nervously to Cubarsí and Casadó, but they were still engrossed in their own conversation. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. We were just having a normal conversation." (Shut up, idiot!)

Dani chuckled, clearly unconvinced. "That didn’t look like a normal conversation." Leaning in, he whispered: "You were almost kissing."

Pedri’s jaw tightened. "I don’t know what you think you saw, but we were just greeting each other. She was dropping Cubarsí off as I arrived. And yeah, like you said, she’s nice."

"Estás mintiendo. Te conozco." Ferran said, nudging Pedri’s arm with a smirk. "Is she the girl you've been texting?" (You're lying. I know you.)

"No!" Pedri snapped and blushed. "Let’s just drop this, okay?"

Dani wasn’t about to let it go. So with a mischievous glint in his eye, he called out. "Hey! Cubarsí?" Pedri’s head whipped around, and he shot Dani a deadly look.

"Yeah?"Cubarsí replied, glancing over.

"Does your sister have a boyfriend?"

Cubarsí froze, frowning at the unexpected question. "Why?"

"Oh, I’ve got this friend who’s single, and I thought--" Dani started, but Cubarsí cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"No, no. She’s a busy woman. She doesn’t have time to date."

Pedri couldn’t help but laugh under his breath at how innocent Cubarsí’s answer was. He had no idea that Pedri and you had been dating for eight months. The two of you had agreed to keep it private, and so far, you’d managed to pull it off.

"That's a pity!" Dani said. "I really thought they would be a match!" Pedri kicking Dani lightly in the leg.

You were parked outside Ciutat Esportiva, waiting for your brother, something you’d gotten used to doing since he didn’t have his driver’s license yet. It was during one of those routine that you first met Pedri.

You had just dropped your brother off at training. The rain was coming down strong, and you still felt weak from the lingering cold that had plagued you for weeks.

Truthfully, you shouldn’t have been driving. Your head was foggy, your focus scattered, but you’d assured Pau you were fine, insisting you could manage.

As you exited Ciutat Esportiva, your mind elsewhere, you didn't realise you’d drifted onto the wrong side of the road until a black Porsche appeared out of nowhere, headlights piercing through the rain.

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped. The Porsche swerved sharply, avoiding a collision, but crashed into the wall near the gate, its side scraping against the concrete with a sickening sound.

"No, no, no, no!" You muttered, panic running through you.

A security guard sprinted toward the Porsche, and you scrambled out of your car despite the rain soaking you instantly.

"Are you okay?" The guard asked, though one look at your pale face and trembling hands probably answered the question for him.

You leaned against your car door, feeling a wave of dizziness running through your still weak body. "I’m fine. I’m fine." You managed, though your voice didn’t sound convincing even to you.

The Porsche door swung open, and one of your brother’s teammates stepped out.

Pedri.

Dressed all in black, his hair quickly became wet from the rain. You recognized him instantly. You’d never met him personally, but there was no denying he was one of Barça’s most handsome players.

But when he turned toward you and the guard, your stomach dropped. A line of blood ran down his forehead.

You took a step forward, eyes wide. "Oh my god. Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see where I was going."

Pedri locked eyes with you and for a second he couldn't think straight. He knew who you were. Everyone at the club did. But it was the first time he’d seen you outside your car. You were always in and out of Ciutat Esportiva in a blink of an eye.

Even then, always seeing you from afar, he’d thought you were beautiful. But now, standing in front of him, a worry look on your face, he couldn't help but think you were even more beautiful.

"Sí, I'm-- I'm okay!" He said. (Yes)

"But you’re bleeding!" You said, instinctively reaching out to brush his wet hair aside for a better look at the wound. Halfway there, you caught yourself and pulled your hand back awkwardly. "Call an ambulance, please." You urged the security guard.

The guard went to grab his phone, but Pedri stopped him with a raised hand. "No, no. It’s not necessary. I'll get checked inside."

"But..."

"Really, I'm fine."

You hesitated, unsure, but his tone left no room for argument. Then you glanced at the car, guilt settling in your stomach. "I’m so sorry about your car. I'll pay for it, of course. Whatever it costs."

"It’s okay. It’s not that bad." Pedri said, glancing at the car. He knew it was bad, the damage would cost a fortune, but he didn’t want you to worry or pay for it. Even if he didn’t have insurance, he had the money to cover the repairs easily. "I’m Pedri, by the way." He added, stretching out his hand.

You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. "Oh, sorry… I’m Y/n." You said, shaking his hand.

Pedri smiled, and despite everything that had just happened, you couldn’t help but notice how it softened his features.

You smiled at the memory. Pedri made you happy and loved. The secretism only made things more interesting. Not having to deal with families, with his fans and your protective younger brother, seemed like heaven.

As you smiled like an idiot alone in your car, your brother and Casadó stepped out, talking with each other. As they said their goodbyes, Casadó walked toward his car and Pau walked toward yours smiling and making faces.

"Hola, Hola!" He greeted you.

"Hola, hermanito! ¿Estás bien?" You asked him, messing his hair. (Hello, little brother. You okay?)

"Sí! Tires and hungry." He said.

"Me too! So let's go." As you turned on the engine, you saw Dani, Ferran and Pedri walking out. Your hand paused on the stick as you looked at them, more specifically your boyfriend.

Pedro instantly recognised your car and completely forgot what they were talking about. The only thought on his head was how he had to tell you how his interview on Martínez y Hermanos went, before it aired.

"What is it?" Ferran asked him. He and Dani looked in the direction his eyes went and saw you pulling out of the parking lot. "Joder, sí que estás saliendo con ella." He chuckled. (Shit, you're definitely dating her.)

You were having dinner at your parents house, laughing at the latest story of your father when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Discreetly, you pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A message from Pedri.

P ❤️: ¿Podemos quedar en tu casa? Necesito hablar contigo. (Can we met at you place? I need to talk to you.)

He had mentioned earlier that morning, after you’d dropped Pau off at Ciutat Esportiva, that he needed to talk to you. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, especially since he’d left a soft, loving kiss at the corner of your lips, but now, reading the tone of his message, a shiver ran down our spine.

You: Claro! Estoy en casa de mis padres. Me voy ahora. (Of course. I'm at my parents house. I'm leaving now.)

You said goodbye to your parents and your brother and left. It was already late, so they didn't suspect it. As you reached for your car keys, your phone buzzed again in your pocket.

P ❤️: Ya estoy aquí. Conduce con cuidado. Te quiero. (I'm already here. Drive safely. I love you.)

You smiled, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you read his words. Whenever Pedri told you he loved you, it never failed to fill you with warmth.

When you arrived at your apartment, stepping out of the elevator, you saw him leaning casually against your door, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him waiting there made your heart flutter.

He looked up and smiled when he saw you. "Hola, guapa." (Hello, beautiful.)

"Hola, mi amor!" You replied, cupping his face as you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. "Come on in." You grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the apartment. (Hello, my love!)

As soon as the door closed behind you, you both shrugged off your jackets. You sat down on the sofa, watching him closely. Something about his body language, his slight hesitation, the way he avoided your eyes, made you uneasy. He was nervous, and that nervousness was starting to rub off on you.

He scratched the back of his neck and avoided your eyes. "I'm… I'm going to grab a glass of water." He stuttered.

Before you could say anything, he disappeared into the kitchen. You heard the clatter of glasses and the sound of water running. After a minute, he finally returned, sitting on the coffee table in front of you, his elbows resting on his knees as he ran his hands down his face.

"¿Qué pasa?" You asked gently. (What's happening?)

He let out a long sigh. "I think I messed up."

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Clearing his throat, Pedri began to explain. "So, yesterday, I did the interview on Martínez y Hermanos." You nodded, encouraging him to continue. "Well... they brought up your brother." He went on, scratching his jaw.

"And..?"

"And, they joked about how I don’t follow your brother on Instagram." You shifted on the sofa, suddenly uncomfortable. Where is this going? You thought to himself. "But they also joked about the fact that… I follow you.!"

"So, he says he has a great relationship with you, but I don't think you do with him, though." Dani Martínez began

"No, we have a great relationship."

"I don't think you get on well with him. We are investigative journalists in this show and we've looked at who Pedri follows on Instagram." Dani said and Pedri chuckled nervously, leaning back on the sofa. "For example he follows Lewandowski. He follows Lamine Yamal." He paused for dramatic effect as the video kept playing, showing his insthram page. "Then we searched for his teammate Pau Cubarsí and de does NOT follow Cubarsí."

The audience burst into laughter. "I didn't know!" Pedri defended himself.

"He’s the only one on the team that you don’t follow. The only one!"

Now flustered, he turned toward the audience where his brother Fer was sitting. "My brother has my phone. Follow him back!"

"Where is he? Where's Fer with the phone? We'll get Pedri's phone and we're going to follow him now. How are you going to leave the kid unfollowed?" He said, standing up. "We have Pedri's phone."

Sitting back down beside Pedri on the red sofa, Dani handed him the phone. Pedri searched for your brother's profile on Instagram and held up the phone for the camera, ensuring everyone could see.

"Catch this on camera, because he is waiting for Pedri's to follow him as well." As he secured the phone, Pedri pressed the follow bottom. "Ya sigue Pau Cubarsí!" Dani announced triumphantly and the audience clapped. Just as Pedri thought he was off the hook, Dani’s grin widened. "Wait, wait, wait... We found something else. And this one's even worse." (He follows, Pau Cubarsí!)

Pedri furrowed his eyebrows. “What now?” He asked, chuckling nervously.

On the big screen, a video of Pedri’s Instagram profile appeared once more. The hosts scrolled through his following list. "He doesn’t follow his teammate, but... let’s check this name here..." The cursor typed, and a familiar name popped up.

Your name.

"He follows his sister!" The audience roared with laughter, and Pedri’s face turned bright red.

"Pedri, Pedri..." Dani said, barely able to contain his grin. "Look at him blush! Don’t laugh, it’s official now. This guy thinks Pau’s sister is more interesting than his teammate!"

The laughter in the room grew even louder, and Pedri buried his face in his hands, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile.

"I told you to stop following me, Pedro!" You scolded Pedri as he sat down next to you.

"How was I supposed to know they’d go snooping through my Instagram?" He protested, his voice tinged with worry. The thought of their private relationship potentially being exposed on national TV was clearly weighing on him.

"Pedri!" You said, pacing the room and running your hands through your hair. "Everybody knew you didn’t follow my brother. It was only a matter of time before someone made a joke about it."

He watched you with concern, noticing the tension in your every move. The truth was, he was just as nervous as you were. It felt too soon to have your intimate bubble burst, too soon for the world to know about your relationship.

"Maybe people won’t make a big deal out of it."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Oh, they will. Everyone will. Your fans are going to eat me alive, and my brother is going to eat you alive."

Pedri reached out, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you onto his lap. "Is it really such a bad idea to make our relationship public?" He asked softly.

You looked at him. "Pedri... we’re not hiding." You said after a moment. "I just think we’re enjoying our time together. Without all the prying eyes and the media turning everything into a circus."

"So, you're not embarrassed of me?" He pounted.

You looked at him, shocked. "Why would I ever be embarrassed of you, Pedro?" You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. "You're my boyfriend. I love you, and I'm proud of everything you’ve accomplished so far."

His shoulders relaxed at your words, and he leaned forward to kiss your neck. "I was so nervous leaving that studio." He admitted. "I felt like my heart was going to explode." He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it tenderly. "I just don’t ever want to put you in a situation where you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed."

You smiled and leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose. "You’re not embarrassing me, Pedri. If anything, you’re the one who’s going to be embarrassed on national TV."

He groaned dramatically, leaning his head back. "Ay, por favor, don't remind me."

You couldn’t help but laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "Sorry, mi amor."

"Should we tell our families?" Pedri asked, his voice soft.

You shrugged. "If you want to."

He gently ran his hand up and down your back, his touch soothing. "I do. But only if you’re okay with it."

Smiling, you let your fingers wander into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "Of course I am." Suddenly, a mischievous idea flashed through your mind, and your grin widened. "On one condition!"

Pedri raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What condition?"

Your grin turned into a sly smirk. "We don’t tell Pau anything... and we wait to see how he reacts to the interview."

Pedri let out a hearty laugh, his head tilting back. "Oh, no. You’re evil!"

"Come on!" You teased, leaning in closer. "You know it’s going to be hilarious. Imagine his face!"

He shook his head, laughing as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "He's going to kill me."

"Pff, you can handle my brother."

He laughed. "You’re trouble, guapa. You're trouble!"

BONUS SCENE:

You sat on the couch next to Pau, trying your best to keep a neutral expression as the TV flickered with the set of Martínez y Hermanos. Your brother was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, completely engrossed in the interview.

"Oh, this is going to be good." he muttered under his breath, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning. But deep down you couldn't help but feel nervous.

Carefully, you reached for your phone, angling it discreetly so it captured his profile and the screen in the background. The interview was just getting to the part you’d been waiting for.

When Dani handed him the phone and Pedri finally followed Pau live on TV, Pau leaned back on the couch with an exaggerated sigh.

"About time." He grumbled. "Honestly, what’s his problem?"

And then it came, the moment you'd been waiting for.

"He doesn’t follow his teammate, but... let’s check this name here... He follows his sister!"

Your brother froze, his jaw dropping as the audience on TV erupted into laughter.

"What?" He practically shouted, whipping his head toward you. "Did you know about this?"

You shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. "I mean... he probably follows a lot of people."

"Yeah, but you?" Pau’s face was a mixture of disbelief and confusion. He doesn’t follow me, but he follows you? That’s messed up!"

You couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. Pau stared at you, wide-eyed.

"Why are you laughing? What’s going on here?"

"Nothing, nothing!" You said, waving him off as you stood.

"Y/N!" He shouted after you, but you were already walking toward your room, trying to muffle your laughter.

You: He didn’t even realize why you really follow me. I think we’ll have to sit him down and tell him together. 😂

Moments later, Pedri’s reply came through.

P ❤️: That went better than I thought. Let’s tell him soon... but not too soon. 😂 Te quiero.

You smiled, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s cheeky reply. This is going to be interesting.

#fc barcelona #pedri #pedri gonzalez #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football imagine #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez imagine

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gohyemi · 26 days ago

Text

the first snow

pairing: wonwoo x reader

warnings: heavy angst

a/n: it's a long one..

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ "Damn it, why now?" Y/N groaned, kicking the flat tire in frustration. “I have a wedding to go to, and you decide today’s the best day to go flat?”

It was snowing steadily, the cold seeping through her coat as she stood at the side of a quiet street. Her breath fogged in the air, and all she could think about was how this day was turning into a disaster. She trudged to the trunk, yanking it open to reveal the spare tire and a set of tools. The problem was—she had no idea how to use them.

Crouching beside the car, she squinted at the flat tire, trying to figure out what to do. Her fingers were already going numb from the cold. As she stared blankly at the wheel, completely zoned out, a sudden shadow loomed behind her.

The snow stopped falling on her head and shoulders.

Confused, she looked up and found a man standing beside her, holding an umbrella over both of them. He was tall, with soft dark hair and a sharp jawline, dressed in a white shirt under a black blazer and matching trousers. Handsome. Maybe a little older than her.

“Need help, miss?” he asked with a kind smile.

She blinked, slightly stunned, then quickly coughed and nodded. “Yes, please. That would be... amazing.”

Without hesitation, he set the umbrella handle between his shoulder and cheek and crouched down beside her.

“I think I can manage this”, he handed the umbrella to y/n

He got to work on the tire, explaining each step as he went. Y/N mostly stayed quiet, watching his confident movements, silently grateful that someone like him had appeared out of nowhere.

He looked like he had somewhere important to be—maybe a business meeting or a formal event. His sleeves were dusted with snow, and yet he didn't seem to care.

“I’m really sorry for taking your time,” Y/N said, guilt creeping in. “You must have plans or something.”

“It’s fine,” he said casually, flashing her a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, he tightened the last bolt and stood up, brushing his hands off. “And... done! You’re all good to go.”

Y/N stood up quickly, brushing snow off her coat. “Thank you so much, really. I don’t know what I would’ve done without—”

Her phone rang, cutting her off. She fumbled it out of her pocket, checking the screen. It was her cousin.

She answered. “Hello?”

“Y/N, where are you?!” her cousin half-shouted. “The ceremony’s about to start!”

“Shoot,” Y/N whispered, glancing up at her savior. “I’ve got to go—thank you again!”

She gave him a quick bow of gratitude, then took off running.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Y/N dashed into the wedding venue, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. The warm air hit her as she entered, a stark contrast to the snowy chill outside. She paused to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the room.

Guests were already digging into their meals, chatting happily. She felt a wave of guilt crash over her—she had missed the ceremony.

Spotting her cousin in a gorgeous white gown talking to guests near the front, Y/N made her way through the tables.

“Y/N! You came!” her cousin beamed, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry I missed the ceremony,” Y/N said breathlessly. “There was... a tire emergency. My car gave up on me.”

Her cousin laughed, brushing it off. “It’s okay, girl. I’m just happy you made it.”

After a few words with the groom and some light teasing from relatives about her dramatic entrance, the bride gave her a gentle nudge.

“Go enjoy the food first,” she said. “You look like you need some energy.”

“Trust me, I do,” Y/N said with a laugh, placing a hand over her stomach as it growled softly.

As Y/N made her way toward the buffet, her thoughts drifted back to the man who had helped her earlier. The snow, his quiet confidence, that warm smile under the umbrella... She hadn’t even asked for his name.

Shaking the memory from her mind, she picked up a plate and began piling it with food. The scent alone was enough to make her stomach growl. She took a bite of roasted chicken and practically moaned.

“This is so good!” she said to herself, savoring the flavors as she quickly dug in.

Just then, a familiar voice chimed in from beside her.

“Oh? We meet again, tire girl.”

She almost choked on her food.

Her eyes widened in shock as she turned to see him—the man from earlier—casually taking a seat next to her. He looked just as effortlessly cool,

“Hey, hey, careful,” he said, reaching over to gently pat her back. “Didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”

Y/N finally caught her breath, blinking at him. “You—you're here too?”

“Apparently,” he said, flashing a soft grin. “Turns out this is my friend’s wedding.”

Before she could respond, the groom suddenly appeared beside them, looking delighted.

“Ahhh, Wonwoo!” he exclaimed, clapping the man on the back. “I see you’ve already met Y/N!”

Y/N blinked in surprise. Wonwoo...?

“Let me introduce you two properly,” the groom continued. “Y/N, this is my good friend Wonwoo. Wonwoo, this is Y/N—my wife cousin.”

“I was hoping you guys would meet, and I’m really glad you did.”

Wonwoo let out a small chuckle. “We actually did meet—on the way here, believe it or not.” He turned to her, a bit sheepish. “Sorry for not introducing myself properly earlier.”

He extended his hand. “I’m Jeon Wonwoo.”

Y/N reached out and shook it with a soft smile. “And I’m Y/N. Sorry, too, for being all... informal earlier.”

Now that she was seeing him under warm lights instead of falling snow, she could properly take in his features. His hair was slicked back, giving him that cool, slightly bad-boy vibe. The glint of his chrome heart glasses added a stylish edge. His face was sharp—high cheekbones, defined jaw—but his eyes... his eyes looked at her softly, like she was the only one in the room.

She swallowed, this time not from choking. Wow.

“Small world, huh?” he said, gently nudging his glasses up.

“Very,” Y/N replied, smiling wider than she meant to

“Enjoy the food! Feel free to take more,” the groom said with a grin before walking off to greet more guests.

Y/N smiled after him, still feeling the warmth of the moment. Just as she was about to dig into her second bite, Wonwoo leaned a little closer, lowering his voice.

“If I knew you were coming here too, I would've just picked you up.”

She let out a soft laugh. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably still be freezing on the side of the road... with an empty stomach.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Like I said, it’s fine.” Then, with a playful smirk, he added, “Besides, it was worth it.”

He winked.

Y/N froze for half a second, her cheeks turning an instant shade of pink. She glanced away, trying to hide her blush behind a sip of her drink.

“Well... I hope I can repay your kindness somehow,” she said quietly.

Wonwoo tilted his head, thinking for a moment. Then his eyes lit up with a soft glimmer of charm. “Well... may I have forty minutes of your time? Just enough to take you out for coffee and conversation?”

Before Y/N could answer, a voice from the speakers boomed across the hall.

“Ladies, gather around! It’s time for the bouquet toss!”

Wonwoo gestured toward the crowd with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

Y/N laughed and made her way into the growing circle of women while he slowly followed behind, hanging back at the edge of the crowd.

The bride stood in the center, bouquet in hand, hyping up the guests with cheers and teasing threats to throw it far.

“Ready?” she called.

The girls tensed, everyone eager, some half-pretending not to be. The bouquet soared through the air—and just like a scene straight out of a cliché romance, it bounced off two outstretched hands, flew up again, and landed squarely into Y/N’s arms.

The entire hall erupted in cheers.

“MY COUSIN, Y’ALL!” the bride screamed from the front. “I knew she’d be the next one!”

Y/N’s eyes went wide, bouquet in hand, laughter bubbling from her chest as the attention turned to her.

Then came the groom’s voice from across the room: “AND LOOK AT THE GUY BESIDE HER—THEY LOOK LIKE A MATCH!”

The spotlight shifted.

Wonwoo, who had just stepped beside Y/N again, froze for a beat—then smiled sheepishly as all eyes turned to them. The crowd clapped louder, a few people whistling playfully.

Both Y/N and Wonwoo stood there in the middle of the celebration, caught between laughter and shyness, cheeks flushed and hearts pounding.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Y/N rushed toward the coffee shop, her steps quick and uneven. It wasn’t just because she was late—it was because her heart skipped a beat the moment she saw him through the glass window.

There he was, sitting by the window with a book in hand, completely at ease, sunlight catching the side of his face. Calm, composed, and somehow still the very person who made her heart race.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Did you wait long?” she asked breathlessly, standing beside him with an apologetic look.

Wonwoo looked up and smiled, sliding the bookmark into place. “Nah, I just got here five minutes ago. Come sit.”

It had been a few months since that snowy road encounter. Since then, they’d met again at the wedding... and then again. A few coffee meetups turned into casual dinners, and every time felt a little more like a date—even if neither of them had officially said it. At least, that’s what Y/N told herself. But deep down, she was sure he felt the same way.

She had never fallen so hard, so fast. It was strange—how someone who was once a complete stranger could become such a vital part of her life. Now, just the thought of not seeing him left a hollow feeling inside her. And little did she know, Wonwoo felt exactly the same.

After grabbing takeaway coffee, they strolled to a nearby park. Spring had just begun. Trees were beginning to bloom with soft pink flowers, and a light breeze carried the scent of fresh petals. Sunshine filtered through the branches, warm but not overwhelming.

They wandered toward a small bridge that arched over a slow, peaceful river. The sound of water flowing beneath them and the sight of the blossoms created the perfect scene.

“Such a nice day, right?” Y/N said, taking a deep breath, eyes closed for a moment as she felt the wind kiss her skin.

She noticed the silence beside her and turned to find Wonwoo staring out at the river, lost in thought.

“Wonwoo-shi? Is everything alright?” she asked gently.

He blinked out of his daze, looking at her with a slightly confused expression before smiling. “Oh—yeah. Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

Then his eyes flicked to her hair. “Wait—hold still,” he said, reaching up.

He plucked a soft pink petal from her hair and gently blew it toward her face, making her flinch and laugh.

“You cheeky—” Y/N narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance and started to walk away dramatically.

But before she could take two steps, Wonwoo chuckled and gently grabbed her hand, stopping her. She turned back around, barely suppressing a smile, and found him just looking at her.

“You know,” Wonwoo began, his voice softer now, “it fascinates me how we met during the first snowfall... and now here we are, sharing our first spring together.”

He glanced down, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

“It feels like... a new beginning.”

“Our new beginning,” he added, looking up and meeting her eyes.

There was something in his gaze. Something that couldn’t quite be described with words—but she felt it in the air, in the way her heart fluttered, in the way his pupils softened even with those sharp eyes of his.

Y/N tilted her head, a little confused but intrigued. “I’m not following…”

Wonwoo took a breath, steadying himself.

“I have feelings for you, Y/N.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Heck… I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “It was so easy to fall for you, but so hard for me to admit it—even to myself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been holding it in. And now, I’m finally taking the courage to say it.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“Will you… will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/N stood frozen for a heartbeat—too stunned to speak. Her heart was pounding in her chest like it was trying to burst out.

Then, suddenly, a wide grin spread across her face. She didn’t even say anything—she just launched herself into his arms, giggling as she hugged him tightly.

Wonwoo laughed softly, arms wrapping around her waist as he held her close.

“Is that a yes?” he asked into her hair.

“Yes,” she whispered, still smiling. “A hundred times yes.”

Wonwoo pulled her into another hug, arms wrapping around her as if he never wanted to let go. Y/N snuggled into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming every part of her that had been anxious just moments ago.

His frame was broad and warm, and yet the way he held her—so careful, so gentle—felt like he was afraid she might disappear if he wasn’t careful enough. And at the same time, his embrace was firm, grounding her in a way that made the world seem to stop spinning.

“I love you too,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Her voice was tender, almost trembling with emotion, and it made Wonwoo's breath hitch. He felt his heart swell at her words—like everything in the world had aligned just for this moment.

He slowly pulled away, just enough to look at her, arms remained wrapped around her waist. Their eyes met, and for a second, they simply smiled at each other—no need for anything else.

Wonwoo leaned forward, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. It was soft, reverent, full of emotion he couldn’t quite put into words.

And under the cherry blossoms, with the wind playing around them like a blessing, their new beginning truly began.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Being a couple came with its fair share of ups and downs. There were moments of laughter, comfort, and joy—but also arguments, misunderstandings, and learning curves. It took time—longer than either of them expected—to understand each other's boundaries, triggers, and ways of coping.

But through it all, love remained their anchor. Love, and the growing sense of responsibility they felt toward each other as partners.

“Let’s not fight anymore… I’m sorry, love. I regret shouting at you,” Y/N whispered as she slowly wrapped her arms around Wonwoo’s waist from behind.

He had been standing in the kitchen, facing the counter, trying to calm himself—trying to ease the tension that lingered heavy in the air like storm clouds. But the sound of her soft voice, muffled slightly by the fabric of his shirt, reached something deep inside him.

His shoulders relaxed almost instantly.

He turned around, gently pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. “Me too,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m sorry. I let my emotions get the best of me.”

They stood there in silence, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the background. It wasn’t perfect, but neither of them needed it to be. What mattered was that they always found their way back to each other.

Y/N nodded against him, her cheek pressed to his chest. “We’ll be okay, right?”

Wonwoo pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing her hair out of her face with a tenderness that made her eyes sting with emotion. “Yeah,” he said, a small smile curving his lips. “We’ll be okay. As long as we keep choosing each other—even on the hard days.”

And just like that, the storm passed. Not forgotten, but forgiven. And love—quiet, steady, and real—remained.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Wonwoo hummed along softly to the tune playing on his car’s radio, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. The late afternoon sun painted golden streaks across his dashboard when a call notification popped up on the screen.

He smiled the moment he saw her name. Pressing the button, he greeted her with a warmth that could melt the whole city.

“Hello, sweetheart. How’s your day?”

He heard a bit of shuffling on the other end before her voice came through, tired but lighthearted.

“Just finished the longest surgery of my life,” Y/N sighed, collapsing onto the top bunk in the small staff room at her workplace. She put the phone on speaker and rested it beside her on the pillow, both hands lying on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling. “Thank God that man’s alive…”

Wonwoo’s expression softened instantly. “Please rest well. You work too hard.”

“I will… but only when you’re next to me~” she giggled, her voice drowsy yet playful.

His chest tightened at the sound. Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since he last saw her.

“How’s your work there?” she asked, her voice a little softer now. “When are you coming back?”

“Maybe next week?” he replied, though he already knew the truth. The meeting had gone better than expected, and he was already on his way back—speeding gently down the highway toward the city, toward her.

Y/N pouted slightly on the other end. “Please don’t forget to eat, Mr. Jeon. Take care of yourself, since I’m not there to nag you.”

Wonwoo chuckled, eyes briefly flickering to the red velvet box sitting in the passenger seat beside him. He reached over and opened it, revealing a simple yet elegant diamond ring that shimmered subtly under the sunlight.

It was minimalist—just like her taste—and he could already picture how perfectly it would fit on her finger.

“Will do, Doc,” he said with a smile, his voice holding a hidden excitement. “I’m in good hands.”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Y/N had just finished her shift for the day. She slipped on her coat, eager to finally head home and rest. But just as she stepped out of the staff room, a nurse came running toward her, eyes wide with panic.

“Doctor Y/N! I know your shift’s over, but we really need your help—now!”

Without hesitation, Y/N tossed her coat onto the counter and grabbed a fresh pair of gloves and her emergency tools. Her exhaustion vanished, replaced with pure instinct.

“What’s the case?” she asked as they ran side by side down the hallway toward the emergency entrance.

“Male, 28 years old,” the nurse reported breathlessly. “Got into a car accident around 9:40 PM. He has minor injuries to his body, but it looks like there may be severe trauma to his head and spine.”

Y/N’s chest tightened. A strange uneasiness washed over her like a cold wave, her heart suddenly pounding faster—harder. It was an ache she couldn’t quite explain.

And then she saw it.

The ambulance pulled up. The doors flung open.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There, lying lifelessly on the stretcher, was Wonwoo—his body battered, blood staining the white sheets and trailing from a gash near his forehead, bruised and broken.

“No—no, no…” Y/N whispered, frozen in place.

A sharp voice snapped her out of it. “The last thing I need from you right now is getting distracted, Dr. Y/N. Move!” barked her senior doctor.

Swallowing her sobs, Y/N forced her legs to move, her instincts taking over. The team wheeled Wonwoo toward the surgery room, and she rushed alongside them, but her mind was spinning. She couldn’t think straight. All she could see was him.

The man she loved.

The man she just talked to earlier tonight.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Inside the operating room, everything was prepared—the lights, the tools, the team. But as Y/N stepped up to the table, her gaze locked on Wonwoo. His face was barely recognizable beneath the bruises and dried blood. The sight of him like this shattered something deep inside her.

Tears welled behind her surgical goggles, blurring her vision.

“Y/N, get out if you can’t handle this,” her senior warned sharply, tone cold but necessary.

“I can,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I can do this.”

“Then focus. There’s a life in our hands.”

Y/N took a deep breath and steadied her trembling hands. The buzzing of the machines, the beeping of his vitals, and the sound of instruments clinking filled the room. She couldn’t afford to break now.

Not when his life hung in the balance.

Throughout the surgery, she repeated one silent mantra in her mind like a prayer, over and over again:

Please live. Please be okay. Please come back to me.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

The surgery was over.

Y/N stepped out of the operating room, her hands still trembling, her breath uneven. The weight of the last few hours crushed her chest with every step. The moment she was out of sight, her legs gave out. She slumped against the cold corridor wall and slowly pulled off her scrub cap, her fingers barely functioning.

Tears streamed down her face, but no sound came out. The sobs were caught in her throat, choking her, too heavy to release. She buried her face in her hands, her body shaking with silent cries. The kind of pain that didn’t need words. The kind that made your soul ache.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…” a fellow doctor crouched beside her and gently rubbed her back. But no words could console her—not when the only person who could calm her was the one she had just fought to save.

The doctor pulled her into a hug, and that was all it took. The dam broke.

A guttural sob tore from Y/N’s chest, loud and raw, echoing down the empty hallway. Her cries were full of grief and desperation, like something had been ripped from inside her.

“I-I can’t lose him,” she whispered through trembling lips, her voice barely holding together.

“We did everything we could, Y/N,” the doctor said softly, still holding her.

But that didn’t soothe her. Nothing could. Not when the love of her life lay unconscious, fighting for breath, for life.

And then—like a cruel wave—memories crashed over her.

His laugh. His warmth. The way he held her. The way he looked at her like she was his whole world.

All of it replayed in her mind—and all of it felt like it was slipping away.

“Dr. Y/N,” a nurse appeared gently, “the patient has been transferred to the Intensive Care Unit.”

Y/N slowly broke from the hug and wiped her face with trembling hands. Her eyes were swollen, but her expression held a quiet, fierce resolve. She stood up, steadying herself.

“You know you can see him later…”

“No,” Y/N said firmly, her voice low but unwavering. “I won’t waste a single second. I’m afraid there won’t be another chance to.”

And with that, she walked toward the ICU—toward him.

Y/N’s POV

I take a deep breath, the kind that hurts your chest more than it soothes it, and press the button to open the door.

The soft mechanical sound fills the silence, and then—there he is.

Lying there. Still. Pale. Surrounded by wires and machines keeping him stable.

My feet feel like they're weighed down with lead, but I move toward him anyway, slowly, as if any sudden movement might shatter what little hope I have left.

I reach out and gently take his hand, cold but still his. Still Wonwoo.

“You made a promise…” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.

The tears are quick this time. They blur my vision, fall to our joined hands, and I don’t bother wiping them away. My throat tightens painfully.

“You can’t just break it,” I say, voice cracking, trembling under the weight of fear. “You told me we had forever.”

I try to swallow the sob building inside me, but it escapes anyway.

“Please… we still have so many things to do together. You haven’t even met my parents properly. You haven’t taken me on that road trip you always talked about.”

My grip on his hand tightens, as if holding him hard enough could pull him back.

“Please, Wonwoo-ah… come back to me. I’m not ready to lose you.”

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

4 Years Later

The cold had returned, as it always did. The trees stood bare, their branches reaching out like quiet silhouettes against the grey sky. Winter was settling in.

Y/N crouched down slowly, the crunch of frost beneath her boots the only sound. She gently placed a bouquet of white lilies and baby's breath in front of the gravestone, her gloved fingers brushing away a stray leaf.

“How have you been up there?” she asked with a soft, melancholic smile, eyes focused on his name etched into the stone.

She sat on the cold ground beside the grave, tucking her coat tighter around herself as the breeze blew past. “Mine’s been tiring, as usual. Non-stop surgeries, meetings, back and forth every day. But I can’t really complain. My patients are the real fighters. They push through so much pain just to make it home.”

She let out a deep sigh, her voice quieter now.

“I miss you so much, love…”

Four years. Four winters without him. Yet the ache hadn’t dulled — if anything, it had simply settled into the spaces of her life, present in every quiet moment.

Every little joy carried a sting. The smell of coffee in the morning. The warmth of coming home after a long shift. The sound of laughter — not his, but close enough to stir her heart.

He should be there. He should be waiting at home. He should be beside her.

Her tears slipped out, uninvited, and she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. The wind picked up again, and she pressed a kiss to her gloved fingers, then placed them on the stone.

“I have to go, Wonwoo-ah. But I’ll come back next week, and for Christmas too,” she whispered. She stood up, slowly, taking one last look at the stone before turning toward the cemetery gate.

She made a quiet detour on her way home, one she hadn’t taken in a while. The park looked the same — quiet, dusted with snow, the pond partially frozen. Her steps led her to the bridge, the one that held so many memories. The very spot where he had first held her hand with trembling courage, where he had whispered his feelings into the cool spring air.

Y/N stood in the middle of the bridge and looked ahead. A soft smile formed on her lips.

She used to hate winter — its loneliness, its grey skies. But now, it was her favorite season. Winter brought her peace, a strange kind of comfort. After all, it was where it all began — the snow, the broken-down car, the stranger who would become her everything.

She tucked her hands into her coat pockets to shield them from the cold… and felt something.

Her fingers curled around it.

She pulled it out. The diamond ring.

And that when she remembered her last promise to him

4 Years Ago

“Y/N…”

A hoarse voice broke the silence, barely a whisper. Y/N flinched, eyes wide as she saw his slowly flutter open. Her heart stopped.

“Wonwoo…” she gasped, quickly standing and rushing to his side. Her hands reached for his, trembling as she held it gently.

“H-hey, it’s me,” she said softly, her voice cracking as her fingers caressed his bruised face.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he murmured weakly.

She shook her head quickly, tears already falling. “No… no, everything is fine. I should be the one apologizing.” Her voice trembled as sobs began to rise from her chest. “I’m sorry, Wonwoo-ah…”

She lowered her head, burying her guilt deep inside herself. She blamed herself — for not being there, for not stopping this.

“No, love…” His voice was fragile, but he forced his hand to lift. Shaking slightly, he touched her cheek, wiping away her tears with trembling fingers wrapped in wires.

“You crying… is the last thing I ever want to see.” He smiled faintly. “I’m glad… I can see you one last time.”

“No,” she shook her head, tears flowing faster. “Don’t say that… please.”

She pressed her lips to his palm, the warmth of her breath mixing with the tears soaking his hand. The lump in her throat made it nearly impossible to breathe.

“We both know the truth, Y/N…” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t give us false hope. If you do… it’ll be harder for me to let go.”

Even as his eyelids drooped, he stared at her — as if trying to memorize every detail of her face for the last time.

“Make me a promise,” he whispered.

“Anything,” she replied without hesitation.

“Please be happy,” he said, eyes searching hers. “Live a beautiful life. Move on. That’s my last wish for you… I want you to smile again. I want you to find your happiness — so I can be at peace too.”

Her sobs grew louder, but he held her hand tightly.

“I was going to propose to you,” he continued with a faint chuckle. “But maybe… someone else will be the one to stand by your side. And that’s okay. Just… be happy. The way you used to be when you were with me.”

“Wonwoo-ah…” she cried, her whole body trembling.

“Please… for me,” he pleaded, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

Y/N nodded slowly, her lips trembling as she forced a small, broken smile.

“If I have to,” he said with a weak laugh, “I’ll send someone down to love you for me.”

His breathing slowed. The monitor beside him kept its steady beat. He looked peaceful — even through the pain.

“I never regretted stopping to change your tire that day,” he whispered. “Because that was the day I found you — under the first snow. The day I fell for you, completely.”

Y/N leaned in, tears falling freely. She pressed a long kiss to his forehead, then met his gaze. For a moment, time froze.

Then she leaned closer, and their lips met — gentle, trembling, soaked in shared tears. A kiss that held every memory, every promise, every goodbye.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible against his lips.

And just like that… She knew this moment would live forever — not just in her memory, But in her soul.

She stood still on the bridge, staring out at the quietly flowing river below. The soft wind kissed her cheeks, and her eyes reflected the gray sky above — distant, yet calm.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips.

Even now… even after all these years, she hadn’t found anyone else. Not because she hadn’t tried, but because no one could quite fill the space he left behind. And despite the promise she had made that night by his hospital bed, her heart still clung tightly to his memory.

She looked down at the ring she held in her gloved palm — the same minimalist diamond ring he had chosen, the one that suited her perfectly.

He always knew her taste.

Suddenly, a snowflake landed gently on the center of the ring. She looked up. Snow.

The first snow of the season had begun to fall, covering the town in a soft white hush. A cold breeze whispered past her ears, and she closed her eyes to let the silence settle in. It was the same kind of snow that had fallen on the day they met.

And just like that, the memories returned in a flood. His smile, his voice, his laugh. The way he’d call her “love” when she was stressed. How he always tucked her scarf in for her when it was too cold.

A light chuckle escaped her lips, followed by a soft exhale. She adjusted her scarf, wrapping it tighter around her neck, trying to shake off the chill seeping through the air… and maybe through her heart, too.

Just then, a shadow fell over her.

An umbrella appeared above her head, shielding her from the snowfall.

Surprised, Y/N blinked and turned around. Her brows furrowed slightly until her eyes landed on a tall man standing behind her — warm eyes, soft smile, dressed in a long coat. The snow clung lightly to his shoulders.

“You’ll catch a cold standing out here like that,” he said gently, his voice kind.

Y/N bowed slightly, a little taken aback. “Thank you…”

“Oh—wait, you’ve got some snow on you.” He leaned in carefully, brushing a few flakes from her hair and shoulder with a light touch.

“There. That’s better,” he said, then extended his hand with a friendly smile.

“By the way, I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Nice to meet you.”

the end

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magenta-malice · 3 months ago

Text

A Slithering Adventure

Jax x Cat!Reader

A/N: This is just a teensy little fragment of a biiiig fic I’m currently writing, purely for my own enjoyment. I figured I’d make a small side blog (as I’m too insecure to use my main for this lol) to share it with my fellow rabbit lovers.

A little backstory: This was written with my OC in mind who is a cat-like creature that has a lot more to her than what the cast members know… But you don’t need to know about any of that to enjoy this scene! I only include one sentence as a hint to this but you'll be fine.

She also had an intense/heated/both(?) teasing/argument/both(?) with Jax the other night, so that’s how the story starts in here.

CW: None? | A giant digital snake slightly scaring an idiot bunny. | Jax has a functional nose for the sake of one sentence. | Loooots of friendly teasing (maybe a bit OOC but eh) | Slightly traumatic experience for said bunny but he can take it like a good boy

Word count: 2583 | Masterlist

You woke up feeling as shitty as ever, with exactly one blissful second of peace – one magical moment where last night didn’t exist.

And then, just like that, reality came crashing back down. Every single thing that happened from the moment you ran into Jax came rushing back to you all at once.

Shit.

You stretched a little in bed, delaying the inevitable. If you didn’t head out soon to join the others for whatever stupid adventure Caine had planned today, someone was bound to come knocking.

Oh god, what if they sent Jax? The thought alone made you want to sink into the floor. You were not dealing with another awful doorstep encounter like yesterday.

So, you took your time getting ready (maybe a little longer than necessary) until you finally heard the others leaving their rooms and heading downstairs. Perfect. You weren’t exactly in the mood for small talk this morning.

Let’s just get today over with. Nice and easy. Maybe you could even nudge Caine into doing an adventure you’d already done before – one from years back with the old gang.

Before the incident…

You shoved that thought down, squared your shoulders, and opened your door. A relieved sigh escaped you when you saw the empty hallway.

Good. No Jax. No one else, either.

With that, you made your way downstairs to the main room, where everyone was already gathered and chatting.

You spotted Jax lounging on the couch, pestering Gangle about something – her mask, you suppose?

Stupid rabbit.

You made your way toward the group, hoping Caine will magically appear and save you from having to dive into an unwanted round of socializing.

You caught Jax’s eye as he glanced your way, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of something in his gaze. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

It looked like he was about to say something, but just as you braced yourself, Caine popped in out of nowhere.

You saw Jax’s expression shift, his brow furrowed slightly as he let out a quiet sigh. He turned his attention to Caine, the spark in his eyes fading into a more neutral expression.

“About time, Caine. I was starting to get bored over here,” Jax said with his usual (disgusting) smirk, though his posture seemed a little more tense than usual.

Caine started speaking about today's adventure, but your mind was only half-present. You leaned against the wall, too tired to stand properly, trying to listen to the ringmaster’s nonsense.

"That’s right, my digital darlings!" Caine’s voice boomed with excitement as he twirled his cane. "Today, we’re heading into the Mysterious Mistwood to recover a very important lost key! Ooooh, what does it unlock? Aha! That is for me to know and for you to never find out!"

He wiggled his eyebrows dramatically before clapping his gloved hands together.

"As you all know, a task this perilous cannot be done alone! So, I’ve taken the liberty of pairing you all up! You and your partner will search the foggy, winding paths of the Mistwood until one of you finds the key! But be warned!" his voice dropped into an ominous whisper, eyes gleaming. "The forest is tricky. It shifts, it changes, and if you’re not careful, you might find yourself walking in circles forever!"

The ground beneath you rumbled slightly as a massive wooden door appeared and creaked open, revealing an eerie, fog-covered forest just beyond. Your stomach twisted, not because of the adventure, but because you had a very bad feeling about who you’d be stuck with.

"And now! For the moment you've all been waiting for – the partners!" Caine grinned as a giant, spinning wheel appeared in the air. He gave it a theatrical spin, the names flashing too fast to read. Finally, the wheel slowed… and stopped.

Your name appeared.

Right next to Jax’s.

Of course.

Of course it had to be him.

Jax let out a loud, exaggerated groan. "Ohhh, come on! Rigged. Totally rigged!" he glanced over at you, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Guess you’re stuck with me, partner."

Caine, oblivious to the tension, continued cheerfully. "Welp, too bad! No takesies backsies! Now, off you go, and remember – find the key before the mist finds you!"

Around you, the others were already grouping up. Gangle had been paired with Ragatha, who gave her an encouraging pat on the back, while Kinger ended up with Pomni. Zooble, unsurprisingly, refused to participate, lounging off to the side with their usual disinterest.

At the center of the room, three massive wooden doors emerged from nowhere, each one looking equally ominous. One for each pair.

Jax got up from the couch and walked closer to you.

"Rough night? You look like you could use some more sleep," he said, his eyes flicking up and down as he took in your less-than-enthused expression, his smirk widening at the sight.

You exhaled through your nose, unimpressed. "Gee, thanks for the concern," you muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

Your shoulder pressed harder into the wall as if that alone could create some distance between you. "Maybe I just wasn't thrilled about waking up to this," you gestured vaguely between the two of you, finally meeting his gaze with a deadpan stare.

Jax raised an eyebrow at your response, his smirk growing into a smug smile. "Oh, sorry, am I not meeting your high standards?"

He took a step towards you, closing the small gap you tried to create. His gaze locked onto yours, searching for any kind of reaction.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're lucky to be paired up with me. I'll keep you safe out in that spooky old forest. After all, I'm the most skilled adventurer around here."

You scoffed, already walking toward the doors. Jax followed beside you, hands tucked behind his head like he had all the time in the world.

"You don't want to end up lost in there, do you?” he continued, his stupid smile only growing, filled with (made up) confidence. “Then just consider me your knight in shining armor."

You rolled your eyes, keeping your pace steady, not in the mood to entertain him. Jax, still not satisfied with your reaction, pushed further.

"Oh, come on. Is being stuck with me really that painful, kitty?" he practically purred the last word as you entered one of the doors.

You froze mid-step, feeling the sudden and overwhelming urge to hit someone. More specifically, the annoying purple rabbit walking beside you.

On the other side, a dense forest surrounded you, mist curling between the towering trees. The doors – and the others – were nowhere in sight.

…Not that either of you noticed. Jax was too busy entertaining himself with cat puns, and you were focusing on not seeing his face as a living punching bag.

Jax, probably catching on to the very obvious shift in your expression, tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Aww, is someone getting angry? Gonna hiss at me now?"

You barely spared him a glance, replying completely unbothered. “If this is your way of getting back at me for calling you ‘bunny boy,’ I’m letting you know it’s not working.”

Jax chuckled. "Oh, dear me, you are so cool and collected," he drawled, faking a swoon. "But I’ll let you in on a little secret: It's not just about getting back at you."

His words hang in the air, but before either of you could say more, the bushes started rustling violently. A giant, serpent-like creature slithered through the trees, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

Jax’s ears perked up at the sound of the bushes rustling, as your attention snapped towards the strange, serpent-like creature that slithered into view.

Without a moment of hesitation, Jax turned his back on you, putting himself between you and the serpent.

"Stay back," he warned, his eyes fixed on the creature. However, as he glanced over his shoulder at you, he noticed the smirk still plastered on your face. "Really? We're facing a giant snake and you're still finding this amusing?

You let out a small laugh, clearly unfazed by the serpent’s intimidating presence. "Oh, I’m terrified," you drawled, your eyes scanning the creature with curiosity.

The snake hissed, its tongue flicking in and out, causing Jax to stiffen, his ears flattening against his head. You could see him trying to keep his composure, but the fear was clear in his wide eyes.

"Come on, Jax," you said, taking a step forward to stand next to him. "I thought you were the most skilled adventurer here. Surely you can handle a little snake, right?"

Jax’s ears flattened further at your words, his pride clearly wounded by your teasing. A mix of annoyance and slight panic appeared on his face.

The giant creature suddenly lunged forward, its muscular body coiling as it prepared to strike. Jax swiftly side-stepped, causing the snake to crash into the ground with a thud. He let out a frustrated groan and shot you a sharp look.

"This would be a lot easier if you weren't distracting me, you know."

Paying no attention to him, you rolled your eyes and headed straight to the serpent’s direction. But before you could take even three steps, Jax suddenly grabbed your arm, pulling you behind him again.

"Are you crazy? You can't just waltz up to a giant snake!"

You huffed, yanking your arm free from his grip. “Oh, please. It’s not like I was gonna ask it for a dance.”

Your gaze flicked back to the serpent, its body rippling as it readjusted from its failed strike. The way its glowing eyes locked onto you sent a thrill down your spine – but not fear. Just curiosity.

“You keep panicking, and it’s gonna eat you first,” you cooed, tilting your head. “Which, honestly, might be kind of funny.”

Jax shot you a glare, his ears scrunching up in frustration. “Oh, hilarious. I'm so glad my imminent death amuses you, Y/N. I’ll make sure to laugh while I’m getting swallowed.”

Despite his words, he didn’t move from in front of you, his body tense, ready to snap at any moment.

The snake hissed, tongue flickering as it was ready to strike again, and its attention now focused solely on Jax.

You smirked, completely unfazed. “Well, if you’re gonna get eaten, might as well go out with a smile, right?”

Your tail flicked lazily as you took a step to the side, casually sizing up the serpent. It was massive, sure, but it wasn’t unstoppable.

“Besides,” you added, tilting your head. “Looks like it likes you more. Maybe it has a thing for nervous rabbits.”

Jax scoffed at your comment, his eyes twitching in annoyance. The fact that you were just peacefully standing behind him, making jokes about him getting eaten, was only adding to his frustration.

“Well gee, thanks for the moral support. I’ll make sure to wear a sign that says 'tasty rabbit meat' next time.”

The snake’s attention remained fixed on Jax, its body tensing as if preparing to attack again. The air of the forest suddenly felt electrically charged.

“Oh great, you’ve definitely made this worse,” Jax groaned.

You snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “Moral support is important, y’know. Someone’s gotta keep things light while you’re busy freaking out.”

Jax shot you a look that screamed ‘not helping’, but before he could retort, the serpent lunged again – this time, faster.

“Alright, time to go!” you grabbed Jax by the wrist and yanked him backwards just as the snake’s jaws snapped shut where he had been standing. Without wasting another second, you ran as fast as you could, dragging him along as you weaved through the trees.

Branches whipped past, the distant sound of the serpent crashing through the undergrowth rumbling behind you. The deeper you ran, the thicker the forest became, its glowing flora casting an eerie light around you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the creature faded. You slowed down, releasing Jax’s wrist as you both caught your breath.

“See?” you panted, shooting him a smirk. “We made it out in one piece. You’re welcome.”

Jax staggered away from you as soon as you released his wrist, doubling over to catch his breath. His eyes were filled with a mix of relief and lingering fear. He took a moment to steady his breathing, his gaze narrowing as he looked at you. Even in the dim light, he could see the hint of a pleased grin on your face.

He was not enjoying this.

“Oh, thank you oh so much for saving me,” he said sarcastically, his voice still slightly shaky. "What would I do without you."

You stretched your arms behind your head, unfazed by his sarcasm. “I dunno, probably end up as snake food. But hey, glad to be of service.”

Jax scoffed, rolling his eyes before plopping down on a nearby tree root. He still looked rattled and he was doing a terrible job of hiding it.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The forest was eerily quiet, the glow from strange plants casting long shadows between the trees. You watched Jax from the corner of your eye – his ears twitching, his body trembling, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee.

You exhaled, tilting your head. “Didn’t expect you to be that scared,” your tone was casual, no teasing edge to it this time.

Jax tensed slightly, his nose scrunching. “I wasn’t scared.”

You gave him a look.

He let out a frustrated sigh, his gaze drifting toward the trees. “I mean, c’mon, that thing was huge. Anyone would’ve–” he cut himself off, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re fine. I don’t need a therapy session.”

You just shrugged. “Didn’t say you did.”

Silence settled again, but this time, it wasn’t as tense. After a few minutes of introspecting, reforming and reflecting, Jax took a deep breath, his shoulders dropping just slightly.

“…I just don’t like ‘em, alright?” he muttered, barely audible.

You didn’t press. You just sat beside him, resting your arms over your knees. “Fair enough.”

Jax glanced at you, like he was expecting some kind of snide remark. When none came, his expression shifted – just a little.

“Y’know, you’re really annoying,” he grumbled, though with a softness in his tone.

You smirked. “Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.”

Suddenly a large wooden door shimmered into existence ahead of you, its frame glowing with dim light. The door opened with a creaking sound and you spotted the rest of the group on the other side. Someone – probably Ragatha – was holding up a key, shaking it triumphantly.

“Well, would ya look at that,” Jax slipped his hands behind his head. “Guess we did our part.”

Caine popped up behind Ragatha, beaming. “Great work, you two! Even though you didn’t actually find the key, your little adventure was very entertaining! A+ for effort!”

Jax rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. Instead, as you two stood up and walked towards the door, he threw you a sideways glance, smirking.

“Don’t forget,” he said, back with his usual teasing voice as nothing had happened. “I’m still planning on that thing I promised ya yesterday. With your requested reward of course.”

Then, just like that, he wandered off, leaving you to wonder what exactly he had in mind.

#jax x reader #jax x cat!reader #tadc #the amazing digital circus #jax #jax tadc #tadc jax #jax x you #jax x y/n #tadc x you #tadc x reader #tadc x y/n #tadc fanfic #tadc fanfiction

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iheartmapi · 10 months ago

Note

Mapi angst? Pls🥹

Answer: This is my first time writing angst but I hope you’ll like it 😭

What I dreaded the most

Summary: You’re Barça’s youngest player, which makes your teammates call you the “kid” of the team. The team is supposed to play a match but you’re nowhere to be seen, which causes Mapi to be anxious and worried. She later learns that there was a good reason for your absence.

TW: mention of a dislocated shoulder, car crash, hospital, brief mentions of pain and wounds

Angst with happy ending.

Word count: 2,261

Y/n Y/l/n was Barça’s youngest player, her teammates were quick to jump in on calling her the team’s “kid”, upon her first time hearing her being called that she couldn’t help but feel as if it was meant to be a subtle punch in the gut, like “kid” was something derogatory, perhaps it was a bit childish but slowly over time she started feeling warm whenever one of the girls called her that, even if it was a simple “hey kid” or maybe even “kiddo”, there were many variants, but all became a familiar and nice nickname.

Out of the entire time you’ve grown the closest to Mapi, the girl’s eccentric and often times unpredictable personality absolutely charmed you, the two of you enjoyed joking with each other, frequently talking with each other during breaks at training

Today, was the day of a match for Barça, Mapi was in the locker room, sitting down on a bench whilst talking with Ingrid and Aitana. There were only a few minutes left before they’d have to go out, yet you haven’t arrived yet, this weirded out Mapi as well as Ingrid and Aitana when they brought it up, you weren’t one to be late to anything (Mapi liked that trait of yours) so what the hell happened? Mapi couldn’t help but shift anxiously in her seat, her mind thinking of the worst outcomes; something must’ve happened to you, or perhaps someone? You were her close friend, she always had this natural worry in the back of her mind when it came to you, maybe because you were so young…She looked around the locker room, hoping that you’d finally appear somewhere and explain that something came up or something. “Did she tell you guys anything?” Mapi looked up at her teammates, concern written all over her face, “Nah, listen Mapi…you have to calm down” Ingrid assured her, patting her shoulder “You should listen to Ingrid, Maps, I mean maybe Y/n caught something? You know how it is” Aitana agreed with Ingrid, Mapi appreciated that they were trying to get her to calm down but nonetheless it didn’t help her, she sighed and lowered her head. “We can always try and call her” Aitana proposed and immediately retrieved her phone, Ingrid nodded and did the same.

And so the girls started calling Y/n’s number, but to no avail, it seemed like her phone was either turned off or hadn’t been charged, this only made Mapi‘s panic worse, other teammates tried to call her as well but no one got an answer.

“Something must’ve happened, she’d never pull something like this” Mapi frowned “I have to talk to the coach” she added and stood up from the bench she was sitting on, Aitana and Ingrid wanted to tell her to give it up since she was completely off contact, so what could the coach do? But they let her go anyway, Mapi marched to find the coach, and when she did she didn’t save any of her concerns from the coach, she needed to search for you since this was incredibly weird, but in the end all she got was a “We can’t do anything about it María, you have to focus the match is about to start, Y/n will probably come over in some time anyway”.

Mapi came back to the locker room with her head held low, Aitana and Ingrid were still on their phones trying to call you up, as well as Keira, Patricia and even Alexia…it was clear they were feeling irritated at this whole situation, some more than the others. They had to break it to Mapi that they couldn’t just keep on trying to call you for hours on end since they had a match to play, Mapi was feeling terrible at this point, but they were right, even if she wanted to she couldn’t just run out of the stadium to go looking for you right now.

She sat back down on her bench, taking a sip of water to try and do anything that could calm her down even a minimal precent, Alexia came up to Mapi, sitting down next to her on the bench, “You shouldn’t be worrying so much, I’m sure Y/n’s fine, wherever she is…” the blonde tried to comfort her teammate, Mapi looked over at her friend smiling slightly “Yeah I guess you’re right Alexia…we’ve gotta focus on the game” Mapi’s smile falterd after she said that, she could feel it’d be hard for her to concentrate on anything else other than you right now, she wished she could listen to all the things her teammates were saying to her, but they couldn’t help her at all.

There was no more asking or calling now, they had to go out and play at this moment. As Mapi stood there on the green pitch she felt as if she was doing this for the first time, like she was a stranger among her teammates, it was as if her own feet were misleading her, she could see Ingrid, Aitana, Alexia and the rest looking at her with confused looks, as she was barely managing with her defense. Mapi’s concern for you overtook all her senses, and in result as the first half neared its end, it was no shock that Mapi was taken off the field for someone else to replace her.

Weirdly shaken up and distressed she made her way back to the locker room. She sighed, she sat back down on that same bench she was sitting earlier in a much calmer state than now, Mapi held her phone in her hands, she still had a hope that as her screen light up she would see a notification from you, wherever it was a message, call or anything else. She blinked and there it was, as if what she was hoping for came true, there it was, clear in a simple black coloured font

Y/n:

It’s bad Mapi

Attached to your message was your localisation, Mapi’s eyes widened, in that moment she knew that she had to drop everything to see where in God’s name you were all this time, her levels of worry were going through multiple roofs, she grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the stadium, she had to go to that localisation at this exact moment.

The setting was only a little bit off from the city, the countless buildings were clearly seen in the distance, she neared the localisation that you sent her, it wasn’t hard to miss the absolute train wreck of what seemed to be a car crash ahead of her, Mapi pulled up, close to the scene. She got out of her car, running towards the collision, red and blue lights flashed, two cars were crashed against each other, it looked like one of them quite literally rammed into the other one, there was an ambulance, where he could see a couple of paramedics rushing here and there, and finally there was a cop car, one cop was speaking with a civilian who was leaning against the ambulance, they had some bandages on them, but it seemed like they were the less hurt party in all of this.

Even if it sounded bad taken out of context Mapi couldn’t care less about them or anything else than finding you right now, she ran up to one of the paramedics, asking all about you, if they knew anything, “There’s a woman inside the ambulance-“ the paramedic told her, Mapi didn’t even want to listen to them finishing their sentence, she hurried to look inside the ambulance. Surely there was a woman inside…but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t possible for you not to be here, where the hell were you?! Her hands were shaking, were you dead? You couldn’t be, she walked further…then she felt as if a massive rock was taken off her heart, she was you sitting on the roadside, your head in your hands, you were patched up, some bandages on your legs, but what made Mapi feel at ease was the fact that you seemed to be doing alright, she ran up to you, gripping your shoulders with her hands, you looked up at her clearly startled but your gaze softens slightly as you realized it was Mapi.

Mapi looked you up, searching for any wounds, cuts or anything of that kind, she was glad to see that you were still pretty much in tact. “Jesus Christ Y/n! I- I was so goddamn scared!” She exclaimed barely catching her breath, “What happened..please I’m begging you tell me!” Tears started rolling down your cheeks, covering the dried tracks of the small droplets from before you saw Mapi, “I’m..I’m not sure Mapi It- It was all so sudden” your voice broke as you tried to come up with anything that had sense to tell her. Mapi cradled your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away the salty tears “Alright- Alright- listen please just tell me if everything’s alright Y/n, I was so scared…I knew something went wrong I just wasn’t…expecting all of this, please tell me you’re fine!” You sniffed, quickly nodding your head in a “yes” motion. “Dios mío…” Mapi muttered to herself

“Y/n I’m glad, seriously I’m glad, I don’t know what the hell I’d do if something was wrong..” Mapi revealed, a single tear running down her cheek, “Come here you big dummy…” she sniffed as she finally smiled, Mapi’s arms lowered slightly resting lower back on your back, she pulled you against her, wanting to hold you tight as if to ensure that some imaginary hurricane wouldn’t just come and snatch you away, she was tired from worrying the entire day.

The second she pulled you against her you suddenly felt a piercing pain go through your body like an arrow. You winced loudly in pain, Mapi’s heart started beating abnormally again, she looked at you, her eyes wide like cherry pies. “Y/n? Y/n?! What was that? What happened?” She started blabbering any word that came to mind as she tried searching for any way to do something, you started sobbing, tears falling like rain, staining your shirt that was already slightly dirty from the car crash.

The first logical step was to take you to the goddamn hospital, Mapi had to pick you up, lead you there- do anything to get you there without accidentally hurting you more. “Where does it hurt? I have to take you to my car, we HAVE to go to the hospital Y/n” Mapi asked, you managed to choke out a “My shoulder…” through tears, Mapi wrapped her arm around your waist, making sure your “safe” side could lean on her. “It’ll be alright, ok? I promise you Y/n, everything is going to be fine, you’ll be fine” with that she helped you somehow make your way to her car, Mapi supported you with each step the two of you took, finally the two of you got into her car, she wasted no time in immediately speeding off towards the closest hospital, the only thought keeping her going was getting you help. As Mapi was driving with you wincing and still crying from the pain next to her on the passengers seat she suddenly heard her phone buzzing, she guessed it must’ve been someone from Barça, the coach, Alexia maybe someone else…but there were too many things going on right now for her to be able to pick it up, she’d call later.

The white walls and typical sterile scent wasn’t comforting at all, Mapi was sitting in a chair outside of your hospital room…you had to get a scan right now, the doctors concluded that a dislocated joint could’ve been the cause of your sudden pain, then Mapi remembered she was supposed to check who was calling her earlier…she took out the sleek device from her pocket and checked missed calls, surely it was one of her teammates; Keira, Mapi pressed the contact to call her back, Keira answered quite quickly .

“Maps! What’s going on? We’re all worried over here!” She heard Keira’s voice on the other end, Mapi took a deep breath before beginning to tell her what just happened.

“Yeah…they said it’s possibly a joint, the doctor assured me that she should be fine though” Mapi said with a hint of disdain for the possibility that her friend’s state could be worse, Keira sighed. “We have to trust them Mapi…alright I don’t want to keep you up so long, we’ll talk later, yeah?” Mapi answered simply “Yeah…later” before hanging up. Just then she saw you being escorted back into the room, Mapi’s heart dropped, she hated seeing you like this, hurt and helpless, “Can I come in? That’s my friend” She asked on of the nurses, the woman nodded, and so she waited as the nurses put you back onto your bed and left the room.

“Did they tell you anything, Y/n?” Mapi immediately asked as she pulled up a stool for herself to sit on, you nooded, “Yep…” you turned your head to look at Mapi “Dislocated shoulder, I should be fine though, already got all the necessary things scheduled…I definitely feel better tho- thanks to you Mapi” you added and smiled weakly, Mapi laughed gently, she carefully tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I was so worried, everyone thought I was going to lose it…” she chuckled

“I’m already imagining that…” you laughed with her as well “But there’s no need to worry anymore Mapi.”

#mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #barca femeni x reader #barca women #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #fanfic #wlw #alexia putellas #keira walsh #ingrid engen #woso appreciation #angst with a happy ending

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zqxouii · 5 months ago

Text

not again!

bachira meguru x fem!/afab!reader | genre : smut, mdni 18+ warnings : cursing, first time, unprotected sex, m!/f! reciving + giving, pet names, praising | wc : 1.8k

a tough game against a cute rival can be a big pain in the ass. even the tiniest little mistake has the power to turn the game of 1v1 all way around.

especially when you can't even focus on the game cuz he's the one you're up against, it isn't easy to try controlling the way you blush when he's all fired up and dribbling over the park ground, his eyes locked on yours.

you're his neighbor, one of the only few friends he's ever had, you've both grown up together, years passing by with your feelings getting deeper for him.

but all this still doesn't affect your play somehow.

"let's see.." bachira pants as he's running all around nonstop doing new fancy tricks trying to dribble past you. "so.. tell me y/n, what do I get when I make this one?"

"eh- how 'bout 2 packs of pineapple candy?" you clench your teeth, stealing the ball effortlessly from him, sprinting towards his goalpost. "this is the last goal for today so you might not get them, though!" you let out a chuckle.

competing with him for years has made his playstyle very known to you, so its kinda easy for you to predict his moves.

at last, you win today, again, very much to bachira's annoyance. "not again.. don't gimme that shit again" he frowns, which he doesn't do often.

you giggle a bit, thinking he must be a little frustrated on the fact that you've been constantly winning from him the past few weeks, not noticing what he's about to do next, "meguru..? will you listen to m—"

the next moment, you find yourself in his grasp, holding you up with his arms, folding your legs around him, as he hungrily leaving hickeys all around your collarbone.

it all seems surreal, you've been waiting for this moment from god knows how long but you are quick to react.

"what the fuck are you doing bachira—?! we're in pu—public put me d—down right now!"

his wet kisses making you crazier every second, it looks like he's not even afraid of that, or anything at all that moment.

he's fucking into it.

the tension is electric between you two when the first drop of rain hits your face, catching you off guard. the storm seems to appear out of nowhere, the sky darkening quickly as thunder rumbles in the distance. the drops start slow, then quickly build, transforming into a downpour that soaks you both within seconds.

the air is suddenly colder, and the sounds of rain crashing against the pavement and your breath mixing with the pounding beat of your heart echo around you. the coolness of the rain against your skin contrasts sharply with the heat of bachira's body, pressed so close to you.

you shiver gets down you spine, but it’s not just from the rain. he looks up, his face just as drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead. he smirks at you, wild-eyed, as if the storm only fuels his energy.

you can't help but stare.

"guess we're stuck out here now" he teases, his fingers brushing against your wet skin, sending a jolt through you. "unless you want to keep this up in the rain."

you're not sure if he's being serious, but before you can respond, his arms wrap around you again, lifting you effortlessly. you squeak, not fully prepared for him to carry you.

though you can't remember how did he actually bring you home so quick, he puts on the wooden floor, back on your legs pushing you against the glass door just as you get in.

the rain falls harder now, the drops almost seeming to create a blur around you. the storm has a power all its own, but it's nothing compared to the tension in the air between you two.

he’s soaked, the thin fabric of his school club jersey clinging to his toned, wet body, the definition of his abs visible through the material.

you feel the strength in his grip, his muscles flexing as his arms pull you closer, making your breath catch in your throat.

"y/n.." his voice is a low, gravelly whisper, laced with something more. something raw. "I'm sorry for this.. but I need you" the words hang in the air, heavy with need.

before you could say anything, his lips are on yours—sudden, urgent.

the kiss is demanding, desperate, and it takes everything in you to not melt under the weight of it. his tongue slides against your lips, a silent request, and you part them just enough for him to deepen the kiss.

it’s all messy. it’s everything you’ve been trying to fight but now can’t resist.

his hands find your waist, gripping you tightly as he presses his body flush against yours. the rain continues to pour down around you both, but it’s nothing compared to the fire building between you two.

you respond instinctively, your own hands threading into his wet hair, pulling him closer. his tongue explores you with an intensity that makes your heart race, each kiss more desperate than the last.

the wetness of the rain, the heat of his mouth, everything blurs together, and you find yourself lost in him, in the sensation of him.

it's the feeling you always wanted to sense everyday.

bachira's kiss is wild, full of the hunger he's kept hidden for so long. you feel it in every flick of his tongue, every press of his body against yours.

you lose yourself in the kiss, forgetting everything around you, until all that’s left is the both of you, tangled together in the storm.

you both pull off after some seconds, lust filled in each others eyes. bachira lifts you again, slowly walking towards the couch, trying to control his trail of thoughts.

"should I ask her about it?" , "what if she doesn't feel comfortable?"

he places you on the couch, at one end and sits on the other end, trying hard to not to spill shit, not looking at you.

"wanna.. wanna do it?"

he looks up at you, dumfounded. were his thought read by you or you wanted him that bad like he needed you?

"huh..? I—" he's cut off, "you said you needed me before."

the next second, you were on your knees in front of him, eyeing his bulge curiously. you took a glance at him and slowly slipped his cock out, it had to be atleast 7 inches.

you paused for a bit, gulped and took a deep breath before grabbing him. this only added to nervousness bachira had in his mind, making him rest his head on the back of the couch.

just a couple of stokes in and he was as red as a tomato, a moaning mess. you wanted to give him all the pleasure he deserves in the world, he's all you've ever desired.

so you did the best you could to satisfy him, the slow and sensual handjob it seemed at first, the faster and rougher it was the next moment.

now, the situation wasn't in control, heavy pants & lewd moans filled the air. as your hand movement went faster, you could feel him twitch more and more each second, he was close, you were doing great.

SPLAT!

you licked bachira's cum off your face, giving the heavily breathing man a wink. he sat up straight, holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger, caressing your cheek.

"you- did a great job, darling" he murmurs as he closes the distance between this mouth and your ear.

"my turn now."

there he is, on his way to bring you to his bedroom as he wants you to be comfortable and be slow with the process, you're both are having your first times, after all.

his room is all decorated based on soccer—posters, figurines of famous players, messy clothes all around. you feel so cozy, so relaxed here and bachira's scent everywhere adds more love in to the air.

he follows your eyes, taking a long look of the room then gives you a pat on the head. "shall we continue, miss?"

a small nod and his gaze turns like that of a predator. he spreads you legs apart, devilish intentions on their peak, only he knows how he controls himself every fucking day not to masturbate to your photo.

he knows what he needs to do.

getting close to your clothed clit, he takes a quick sniff before giving some licks. he reaches for your panties, sliding them off your glassy soft skin, making you blush red making you hit your head back on his pillow in pleasure.

God, this man knows stuff.

he slowly traced all your curves with his tongue around your cunt to your tits, sucking on the right one while putting in a couple of his fingers in your sweet spot and exploring your core, taking you to heavens.

"I can't resist it now."

bachira doesn't take more than just a few seconds to strip his clothes off. "may I?" you didn't respond, ofcourse getting fingered from your long time crush was already a lot to process.

he understood the look on your face and slowly slid his dick in you, your inner walls taking him well, your wetness for him turning him even hornier.

quickly pulling half his cock out, bachira putting power to thurst deep inside you. he had this little goal in his mind to give you your best first time, to make you his, forever.

as a continuous series of rough thrusts went on, you tried your best to make it up to his efforts and return his favour, your lips locked on his throughout the process.

this was it. you were close, he was close. it was the time you both had been waiting so long for.

his dick now on your stomach, he let his cum out on your body with little droplets of his release on your face too while you let your tensions out on his silk bedsheet.

not taking too long afterwards, bachira was fast to clean you up. he rushed to the bathroom to get a small towel soaked in lukewarm water for you right after you were done.

he even got you dressed up in a new dress, that he had planned to gift to you for your birthday the next day.

his care, love and affection was all that you ever wanted. he also wanted you rest for a couple of hours, to cool yourself down with some snacks and coke, staying curled up to you in his bed.

how adorable. how precious he is.

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

Text

Temper

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: You have a short fuse

It's not that you were an aggressive person.

Off the pitch, you were sweet and kind and almost always huddled in a group with Vic and Lessi mucking about.

You just had a bit of a temper, especially when it came to football.

In all honesty, you blamed your dad. You had spent countless evenings sat next to him on the sofa as he screamed and yelled at the tv, watching matches. It seemed only right to emulate him.

Your fuse was short and you snapped easily on the pitch.

"Not even a yellow?!" You demanded, gesturing wildly from your spot on the ground," That was deliberate! She didn't even get the fucking ball!"

"Watch it!" The ref snapped back," Or I'll give you a yellow!"

If your ankle wasn't throbbing, you would have surged to your feet to argue you your case.

"It's not worth it," Steph muttered as she helped you up.

"Not worth it?" You scoffed," Not worth it?! Steph, that was clearly a yellow!" You don't know when you pivoted from arguing your case to shouting at Steph but the frustration bubbled over and soon Lia had to grab you by the hand and pull you away.

"Stop it!" She said sternly, not quite yelling but enough to know there would be consequences if you didn't. "Go back to position and play."

"It was worth a yellow!"

"Yes, maybe it was but it's done now and we need as many legs on the pitch as possible right now. Don't get another yellow."

You stormed off with a huff. You rivalled Katie in the amount of yellows you got (though most of them came from arguing back to the refs rather than aggressive play style) which was kind of impressive seeing as you only joined the team last year.

Mini McCabe had been your nickname for almost a year now and it was something you took in your stride. You are who you are and all that. You couldn't help it if you got a bit...forceful when you were arguing your point.

"What?" You demanded in the next match," You've got to be joking! I didn't do anything! Are you crazy?!"

Your second yellow card in the game was like being hit with a truck. The first hadn't even you being angry. You made a sloppy tackle trying to get the ball off Toone so you took the card even though Toone was clearly milking her 'injury' - though you made sure she knew what it meant when you actually aggressively tackled her. Thankfully, the ref hadn't quite seen that one.

But this yellow card came out of nowhere.

Lia and Caitlin were both sprawled out on the ground, having crashed into each other as two of the United girls squashed the pair between them. You couldn't quite see what had happened in the tangle of legs but you know it was some foul play and you made that known to the ref.

You weren't the only one though because Katie was yelling too.

"Do you need glasses?!" You had demanded," Are you competent at your job?! There's clearly yellow cards that need to be handed out."

"You're right," He had replied and finally you felt vindicated only for him to flash the yellow at Katie and then you.

It was Katie's first of the match but your second.

Her hand clamped around your arm quickly when it looked like you were about to get physically aggressive (you weren't but it did cross your mind to get all up in the ref's face).

"I didn't do anything!" You yelled anyway.

"Dissent," Was all he answered, indicating with his head to get off the pitch.

"Come on," Katie said although she looked equally as angry as you.

You stormed off down the tunnel, your feet slamming into the ground.

"I don't want to talk about it!" You snapped at Leah as soon as she appeared behind you.

"Too bad," She said and Kim (who had been benched today) also appeared," We're talking about it."

"I didn't do anything!" You yelled," Just because he's a fucking-"

"Hey!" Kim wasn't really one to raise her voice so you shrunk down into yourself when she did. "I understand you're frustrated but there's no need to insult him again."

"Frustrated? Frustrated?! I'm fucking fuming! That wasn't worth another yellow! Lia and Caitlin could have been seriously hurt!"

"You're sixteen," Leah replied," It's not your job to defend them."

"Well no one else was fucking doing it!" You clenched your hands into fists and you felt a bit like a cartoon, like smoke was about to come out of your ears. "Maybe if the rest of the team actually did something then I wouldn't have to-"

"Go and shower," Kim ordered," Take the time to cool off. We'll discuss this later."

When Kim didn't speak to you after the match ended, you thought you were home free.

It was only when she, Leah and Jen cornered you in the break room that you realised why it had taken so long.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" You said in disbelief," A sticker chart? What am I, a fucking child?"

"You're acting like one," Jen replied.

You glared at her, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not using that!"

"You don't have a choice," Kim said," For every match where you don't go off the rails, cause a fight or get a yellow card, you get a sticker."

"I don't need stickers," You said bluntly," I'm sixteen!"

"What you need," Leah said firmly," Is an attitude adjustment. You want to keep playing? Keep getting minutes on that pitch? You'll deal with your sticker chart."

You thought about arguing with them, about blowing up and yelling but you just knew that would get you treated with more kid's gloves than right now.

"Sticker charts get a reward at the end," You bit out, scrunching your hands up into firsts to keep from yelling," What do I get?"

Leah and Jen exchanged a look. It was clear that they hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Er..."

"What do you want?" Kim asked.

You shrugged. "Free food. As unhealthy and greasy as I want."

Kim looked physically in pain when she agreed with you, shaking your hand.

"Hey!" Jen said as you moved to leave," Take your chart with you!"

Katie thought it was hilarious, teasing you relentless when you came back to the locker room with your new chart but shut up pretty quickly when you muttered that they might put her on a sticker chart too if she wasn't careful.

Somehow, she ended up being your greatest ally in keeping your temper on the pitch. She was always there to redirect you away from the ref before yelling at them herself when you were safely standing by people like Steph or Viv who definitely wouldn't let you wander closer.

Your sticker chart filled pretty quickly when Leah and Jen threw their own hats into the ring and promised to buy you food too if you completed it.

You fell to the ground with a crash, swearing under your breath as you grabbed at your knee. It wasn't seriously injured (thank god) but it was a little scraped up.

You looked up to throw a glare at the back of Zelem's head as she waltzed off. It was clearly an unfair tackle. She slid in on you after you had kicked the ball up to Vic already.

"Hey," Lessi said as she jogged over," You okay?"

"No," You said, gritting your teeth," Did the ref at least see it?"

You knew your answer the moment Alessia hesitated to reply. You got to your feet and brushed off your knee. It bled a little but it was mostly just a graze.

You could see the ref talking to Zelem briefly before letting her go on her way. Your blood boiled and, with no Katie on the pitch to get on the ref about his bad call, you felt a rush of anger through your system.

You glanced around quickly, just to check who was paying attention to you before you moved towards the ref. Your hands clenched into fists and you anger bubbled in your throat.

You walked right past him on your way back to your position, letting out a deep, shuddering breath as you did so.

You refused to look over at the bench where Kim, Jen and Leah were sitting. You knew they were going to be wearing those god awful smug smirks that they always did when you ignored the anger stirring inside of you and turned away.

You sighed as you waited for the throw in, stretching out your legs and pulling your socks up to cover your knee.

You just needed to get through this match.

Just this match without a yellow card and your sticker chart would be complete and you would finally be able to drain Kim, Leah and Jen's bank accounts for all they were worth.

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

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lheslie · 1 month ago

Text

Mark Variants Vs Ironman Reader

"Big man in a suit of armor, take that away and what are you?"

"Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist." - Tony Stark From Captain America: Civil War.

- Main Mark

You were smart and confident; he loved that about you.

"You're awesome!" He gasped as he first met you finishing off the enemy with your energy blast.

"Of course, I am." You replied as you flew away, leaving him in awe.

Cecil wanted you to join the GDA.

"I told you, I don't want to join your super-secret boy band." You replied to Cecil shrugging him off, sipping on your coffee.

You weren't hiding your identity, so Mark knew where you lived.

He wanted to visit you to convince you to join the GDA.

He steps on your platform silently walking inside your building.

"Good day, sir," Jarvis spoke out of nowhere, spooking Mark.

"Uh- hello," Mark replied as he was looking around, trying to find where that voice came from.

"I didn't know I had a visitor today." You spoke behind him, pouring some juice into your glass.

"Who was that, and how did you know I was here?" He asked.

"That's Jarvis. He's my assistant, and there's security surveillance outside my building and on different floors, Jarvis informed me upon your arrival." You answered.

He tried touching your suit and he got zapped.

He saw your armory downstairs and gasped in awe.

"How many do you have?" He asked.

"About 70, don't remember." You replied.

He begs you to make him a suit, too; he loves learning more about your suit as well, and he wants to wear your suit.

He did it one time, and he had a joyride in the skies; he accidentally destroyed the GDA base while wearing it, Cecil got mad, and you gave Mark a thumbs up.

- Omni Mark

Omni Mark was hovering in the skies as he was watching Shiesty Mark decimate the road.

"Enjoying the view?" You spoke beside him; Omni Mark didn't even notice your presence beside him; he looked at you, trying to punch you to the ground, but you were able to create a Nano shield.

You gave him a blast from your repulsors, that made him crash on a nearby building.

"Hey is the view down there good too?" You laughed.

He removed the building rubbles that fell on him and rushed back out to punch you; you flew away but gained balance in the air by opening your back thruster.

"You look mad. Here, you have some sneakers," you said, sending out missiles to aim at his face.

- Target Mark

He was laughing like a lunatic in the sky as you were below him.

"Watch me as I conquer your planet." He spoke to the citizens below him.

"I'm sorry, Earth is closed today, You better pack it up and get out of here." You yelled at him, pissing him off; you immediately transformed into your suit, defending yourself from his punch, and you blasted him with your repulsors.

"You're just a human pest." He shouted, punching your face armor; you used your arc reactor and blasted him away.

"And you're just a childish tyrant." You replied sending a unibeam blast.

- Viltrum Mark

He was dragging you and smashing you across multiple buildings.

"Jarvis, I need some backup." You spoke with Jarvis.

Another suit of yours appeared, punching Viltrumite Mark away.

He rushed to get back up destroying your other suit.

"You love me that much?" You smirked, as Viltrumite Mark clenched his teeth.

"I'll kill you." He threatened.

"You're not the only one, sweetheart; get in line." You smirked.

- Shiesty Mark

"What power do you have, a mere mortal against me?" He menacingly asked.

"I'm smarter, richer, and hotter than you. Does that count as power?" You mocked.

"Shut the fuck up." He yelled, throwing debris of broken buildings at you, as you avoided them.

He took that chance for a blind spot punching you to the ground.

"Okay, hefty smurf, calm down papa smurf ain't gonna like that." You laughed, as he punched you again.

- Sinister Mark

Sinister Mark was trying to track you down. Fortunately, the big sign outside your building says a lot.

You noticed he was walking around your building. You quietly got on your platform, walking toward the bar counter to get some drink.

"Your name is (Hero name), huh? you're very popular here." He spoke feeling the walls of your building.

"Big man in a suit of armor, take it off what are you?" He asked.

"Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist, better than you in many ways, honestly." You laughed sipping a drink from your cup.

He clenched his teeth and ran to you, trying to strangle you.

You dragged him to the streets making sure his face was being dragged through the dirt.

- Prisoner Mark

He was filled with fury, tailing you in every move, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

"COME BACK HERE YOU PEACE OF TIN CAN!!" He yelled as he followed in pursuit.

You led him to your building's platform.

"Jarvis, activate The Party House Protocol." You whispered.

"Come out, Tin man." Prisoner Mark huffed, destroying parts of your building.

Suddenly, a lot of your Suits activated, flying around him.

"Aim, at raisin head here." You commanded.

"Yes, sir." They all synchronously said, attacking Prisoner Mark.

- Mohawk Mark

"Nice peace of work you got here." He said as he kicked you to the pavement.

"Thanks flounder." You replied as you shot your unibeam at him.

"You're gonna regret that dipshit." As he rages at you.

- No goggles Mark

The guardians were sadly losing against No Goggles, Mark; you were on the floor, still breathing, thankfully.

You ordered Jarvis to call Veronica from outer space.

"You're getting big!" He gasped as geared yourself up.

"Give up, you freaky weirdo." You gave him a warning.

"No way, come at me!" He yelled as you punched him with your armor.

He was on the ground getting punched repeatedly.

"Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep " You repeatedly muttered.

"Oh, I love this." He smiled in bliss.

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madamspellmans-met-tet · 3 months ago

Text

Sea, Salt, Thirst

wc: ~1.5 k

tags: TRIGGER WARNING, mommy issues, nonverbal reader, severe depression, angst/comfort, nursing kink but non-sexual ig?, Lilia's boobs could cure my depression, writing pathetic stuff so I don't kms, unnecessarily poetic, not sure if I'll put it on Ao3 might delete later anyway bc what even is this shit, not edited, not beta'ed

****************************************************

You had been floating on a piece of driftwood, too far out perhaps. And then, out of nowhere, the white whale had leapt out of the abyss and swallowed you whole, taking you down with him as it crashed through the surface. In the belly of the beast, acids dissolved more of you each day, erasing the evidence of your existence.

And Lilia... Lilia tried. It was in her nature to fuss and nurture, but her helplessness in regards to your condition brought it to new heights. She hovered. She worried. She pleaded and held her peace.

Today, you had awoken in the middle of the night, as if a bucket full of ice had been chugged over your head, and had been unable to go back to sleep or do anything except weep. Weep and bawl and wail like a hungry infant. Because you always came back to this place no matter how many miles of running had hardened your soles. Everything you wanted had manifested as a fata morgana out of reach, appearing in the middle of the desert, induced by thirst, the promise of better. But every drop of water in your body had already evaporated in the flaming sun, and you could run no more. The heat struck you down and made you a crinkling, rotting heap in the sand, buried between dunes, whose endless stream of tears were but sand corns falling from your eyes, chafing and scratching your decrepit cheeks.

Lilia came to check on you again in the afternoon, carrying a fresh cup of tea and a burning bundle of sage to "clear your spirits," as she liked to say. You hadn't even touched the cup she'd made you for lunch; it sat next to the equally neglected food that had done nothing more than bother you with its nutritious smell. Your position was the same she'd left you in—curled up in a ball in an unmade bed with crinkled sheets that Lilia couldn't change since you hadn't left it for days, shaking with quiet sobs, tears streaming down your face.

Sitting on the bedside, she put her hand to your forehead and brushed your hair back to get a better glimpse of you. "Sweetheart." A heavy sigh left her. Her voice was distant and muffled, and your eyes as if paralysed. You couldn't look or blink. You could only cry. "What's with all those tears, hm? I hate to see them."

The only reaction your body produced was a fresh wave flowing from your waterline. Lilia tutted and cupped your cheek, moving her thumb in crescents. "Baby..."

You whimpered; something about the word struck a chord within you. Her hand was so warm and tender on your skin, not burning like the sun that made you fade and bleach, but warm like a home warmed by an old, rusty oven; thick and enveloping.

"I'm going to close the shop early," she said and stood up. "Be right back."

When Lilia returned a moment later, she climbed into the narrow wall bed with you and settled against the headboard. Without another word, she pulled you into her lap and began to stroke your head. Her fingers threaded through your hair, separating the strands along your scalp and thereby giving it a gentle massage, and her rings would graze your skin from time to time. Her plush thighs in the very leggings she sold cushioned your heavy, leaden head; a taste of weightlessness to sink into... and the tears fell easier.

"Still not better?" Lilia asked, a helpless edge to her voice.

She wiped at your cheeks with the pad of her thumb. Before she'd removed the first layer of salt, a new one pooled and draped over the finger. She took out a tissue as her next line of defence, but you soaked it within minutes. Your lips, hands, mouth—all dried out and desertificated. You hadn't found water in so long, and all that you'd held within had left you.

"Is there nothing mommy can do?" Lilia's fingers tangled in your unkempt hair, causing a pinch-like pain to shoot across your scalp, but even the pain couldn't find you, brushed right past your weary mind. "For her sweetheart?"

Your eyes squeezed shut with the spillage of more tears, sweeping overboard, pressing through the creaks, and leaving their previous confinement sore and aching dull. You lifted your hands to your burning eyes and clawed your fingers against them, wishing to tear them from their sockets. Your nails sank deeper and deeper into the thin layer of skin until Lilia's fingers curled around your wrist and drew your hands away.

"None of that, baby," she cooed and gathered your loose limbs closer, bending her arm to provide you with a soft place to rest your head while her other hand kneaded your hip. You crumbled more with every touch, like a dry slice of bread for the chicken to pick from the ground with their sharp beaks. "Let mommy hold you. I'll make it all better, I promise."

You closed your eyes, succumbing to the sensations of the infinitely overflowing well and Lilia's arm being the only thing keeping your head above water. It didn't matter what happened to you out there on the ocean, alone amidst the tall, black waves, drifting on a mouldy raft that had infested you already and would die with you before you were washed ashore.

Lilia's clothes shifted around you; sails rustling in the wind. Soft skin brushed against the tip of your nose, and then it bumped against a peak. You opened your eyes and found Lilia's rosy nipple in front of you. She cupped your tear-stained cheek and looked down on you, her face tear-blurred, with an encouraging smile on her lips, nodding.

You opened your mouth just an inch, and Lilia ran her hand over her nude breast, spreading her middle and index finger to slip her nipple in between and guide it between your lips. It was the lightest of brushes. You closed around the small tip and gave a tentative first suck. Lilia let out a long breath, relief, as you did, and nudged her breast around until you found the right angle to suck comfortably. The soft flesh touched against your face as it settled, and she lifted her hand away to tuck a hair behind your ear instead.

"That's it, sweetheart. Latch on to mommy."

It was odd. A terrible vulnerability clutched your heart, but the uncertainty in Lilia's own voice, the rawness, told you she felt the same. Yet, as you continued to nurse, lazy and unhurried, your tears stopped. It went quiet. Everything did.

Her rings and knuckles caressed your cheekbone, slow and languid, falling into a calming rhythm.

"Shhh," she cooed. "No more tears, baby. I've got you."

Cradling the back of your head, Lilia pushed you a bit further into her breast, making you suck her nipple deeper into your mouth. The shape of it pressed against your tongue each time you pulled it in and left a stamp of tingles behind that filled your stomach with a viscous sweetness, chasing away the sickening churns you'd battled for days.

"My sweet girl," Lilia whispered, continuing to hold and caress you, settling into a soft rocking motion. "Mommy's taking care of you now, see? Nothing to be afraid of, nothing to worry about. Just my sweetheart suckling so nicely, like a good girl."

Your breathing evened out, and expelled the spirits from your haunted bones until all that was left was the sensation of your tongue laving against Lilia's breast, growing more hungry for her comfort, diving your nose deeper into the supple swell of it. Muffled noises escaped you, and their subtle hum soothed you just as much as Lilia's gentle voice did.

You spent a while like this; Lilia had sunken further into the pillows supporting her back and sat half-lidded, her hand protective on your waist. You had lulled yourself into sleepiness yourself and slowed, only giving small kitten-licks on occasion. Before either of you could fall asleep, Lilia changed your position so that you lay more comfortably between her legs and your head was pleasantly tucked between her breasts, her slow and steady heartbeat in your ear.

"Feel a bit better?" she murmured into your hair as she combed her fingers through it.

"Yeah," you breathed, nuzzling against her bosom despite already being impossibly close.

"Then just stay like this as long as you want. I'm here just for you," she pressed a kiss into your hair, "and I'm so happy to be able to comfort you, my precious one."

Lilia's arms tightened around you, making it impossible to slip away. All you could do was nestle into the solace of her embrace and let it console you, to surrender into her soft body that moulded to yours and provided you with a place to rest.

"I love you so much, baby. So, so much." She showered you with more kisses, one for each breath you took in her arms. "I'll do anything for you."

#lilia calderu #lilia calderu x reader #my fics

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catbread0 · 1 month ago

Text

Kääijrä x Joost sister! Reader

This is based on 'TRAFIK'. I did this for fun. Hope you enjoy reading! Sorry for any mistakes!

(*σ>∀<)σ

Words: 1,338

mention of blood and bruise, multiple curse words, Fluff(?)

Käärijä Masterlist

Accident

You are currently in your older brother, Joost's, car. You worked at a cafe in the city. However, your car was in the mechanic, damaged by some teenagers for fun. So you had to rely on Joost to drive you to and from until it was fixed.

You sat in the front passenger seat, wanting to go home already. However, Joost had made plans with a friend, so now you were dragged along.

You sighed in annoyance as you held onto the ceiling handle, “Joost just drop me home. What’s the f*cking point of dragging me with you?”

Joost chuckled, “'Cause I know you hate it.” He then made a sudden turn. He was speeding, and you felt like you would get thrown out if it weren't for your seat belt.

You knew you didn’t get a say, since it's his car. But you didn’t want to die because of his recklessness. In addition, his friend was in the back, looking at a magazine of exposed women. Which made you a bit uncomfortable.

You were about to argue back until Joost came to a slow stop. There was construction happening on the single road. Joost was irritated and even hit the wheel. To calm down, he lit up a cigarette. You weren't sure what number cigarette he was on. You had told him to cut down on them, but he never listened. But you were able to take in some air after challenging death on every turn he made. The traffic jam was your savior this time.

However, that only lasted a few seconds because Joost stepped on the gas and crashed immediately.

Your body lunged forward, and you ended up hitting your left cheek, everything else was fine. But you can't say the same for Joost, his nose was bleeding.

You, Joost, and his friend looked out Joost's window to see who the driver was that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

The car was a green Dodge Challenger. The other driver rolled down his window, he had platinum blond hair like Joost, piercings, and a beard. The man started to argue with Joost and even got out of his car and went in front of the front window. Joost and you were starting to panic and get a bit nervous. Although once the man touched Joost's shoulder through the open window, that's when Joost started arguing back.

Other drivers started to honk their horns, getting impatient with the traffic jam. The two of them continued to argue, throwing the middle finger at each other, and shaking the car. You were getting annoyed with the noise and the pain from the hit.

You thought it would be over when the man returned to his car. But of course you're wrong. They just continued to argue like dogs on leashes. All bark but no bite. Throughout all of it, you tried to tell Joost to drive and go home.

Thankfully, after a few more insults in Dutch, Joost drove off. Not caring about the signs, cones, or barriers. He first dropped off his friend and drove to a hospital. Even though he could be annoying to you, he still cared for you, and he wanted to see if you were alright.

The doctors examined you both. You had a bruised cheek, nothing too serious, but you still needed to wear a patch over it. But Joost ended up having not too severe of a broken nose and now has to wear bandages on his nose.

He drove home after that was over, “Sh*t, I’m sorry. I know I’m stupid for my speeding habit.”

You knew he meant it, “It’s fine. Guess we will have to use the bus to go to work now. Until my car is fixed.”

Joost groaned at the thought of that. But there weren’t many options. “Yeah.... F*cking hell”

For the next 3 days, you've been taking the bus and walking to the café. Your coworkers would ask what happened, but you would say you had fallen on the sidewalk.

Today was another day, taking the crowded bus, clocking in, and taking orders and payment. However, you froze for a second.

The man from the green Dodge Challenger was now in front of you.

“I would like a….”, He didn't recognize you.

You debated whether you should tell him while taking his order, “And what's your name?”

“Käärijä,” he said as he paid and took a seat at an empty table.

You wrote down how you think it's spelled and started making the drink. You decided to try and see if he remembers. You wrote on the cup holder ‘Did you have a green car that was crashed into?’

You called out his name when you finished. He came and took it and sat back down. You went back to work but stole a few glances at him.

You were now cleaning the pickup counter. Käärijä took that chance to walk up to you. “Were you in the traffic that happened?” He said as he pointed to the note.

You were taken a bit aback but quickly nodded. “My brother was the one you were fighting with.”

Now he remembers, he saw a woman in the passenger seat while he was on the front window.

“Sinä olet kaunis” he muttered.

You didn't understand what he said. “Sorry, I didn't understand.”

Kaarija then said, “I said I'm sorry. I can drive you as an apology.”

You debated again. You didn't know him that well, but it would be better than riding a bus every day. So you agreed.

Käärijä waited until your shift ended and drove you home. You both had an awkward silence at first, but soon you started talking.

You arrived home, and he gave you his number. “You call and I pick you up. Okie?”

You smiled, “Ok, I will. Thank you.”

You went inside your house, and Joost was already home.

He scratched your head, “You're home early. Did the bus take a shortcut?” He joked around.

You chuckled, “No, someone is driving me now.”

Joost nodded. At least you were fine.

For the next few days, Käärijä would pick you up and drive you to and from your house. Until finally you got your car back from the mechanic.

You: “I got my car back. You don't have to pick me up anymore.”

Käärijä: “You sure you don't want me to keep picking you up?”

You: “We can still talk if you want to.”

After a while, you both started dating each other. Joost noticed how you would be glued to your phone, taking longer to arrive home, going out more, and even dressing up a bit. You had to tell him that you had a boyfriend to stop him from snooping around and finding out who exactly it was.

Käärijä treated you like a precious jewel. You both loved each other very much. But you worried about Joost finding out.

Currently, you are on a date with Käärijä at his house. You were relaxing on top of Käärijä, while he lies on the couch. He had one arm relaxing behind his head and the other behind your hip. A random movie was playing on the TV.

You and Käärijä were giving each other short kisses.

Suddenly, your phone started buzzing. At first, you two ignored it, until it didn't and started getting more frantic. You finally got up and grabbed your phone.

Joost had called and texted you multiple times. You open the text to see what he has done this time. However, your face drained all its color.

Käärijä saw this and looked at your phone, “Vittu”.

It was pictures of you and Käärijä kissing and holding hands. Joost kept sending you texts every second.

Joost: “WHAT THE F*CK IS THIS”

Joost: “DON'T IGNORE ME”

Joost: “WHY ARE YOU DATING THAT KANKER LUL”

Jere tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe he's jealous.”

You knew damn well Joost would be waiting back home, “I’m f*cked”

(I'm sorry if these words are translated incorrectly!)

Sinä olet kaunis - You are beautiful (Finnish)

Vittu - Fuck (Finnish)

Kanker Lul - Cancer D*ck (Dutch)

~Lilly's

#kaarija fanfic #x reader #kaarija x reader #kaarija #jere pöyhönen fanfic #jere poyhonen #jere x reader #jere pöyhönen #Jere Pöyhönen x reader #käärijä #Käärijä x reader #eurovison 2023 #eurovision #jere from vantaa #joost klein #fluff #oneshot

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 1 month ago

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THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY - Journal #5: Route 0 Days 57-66. [MASSIVE SPOILERS]

//As I mentioned before, due in part to me having more immediate obligations to get through, I ended up taking a break from this game. But when I did, I genuinely was so excited to get back to it that I started to go threw withdrawals.

//I'm not addicted YOU ARE!

//But in all seriousness, I wanted to try and cover as much ground as I possibly could. I was shooting to make go from Day 57, where I left off, to Day 70 at least.

//But man, this game is SO LONG. And these days in particular were jammed with SO MUCH STUFF.

//It's...hard to say how I feel about this arc of the story, but I can confidently say that it's probably the most emotionally damaging part.

//Which is actually ironic. One common theme of the Danganronpa games and their plots is they start of strong, tend to petter out during the middle, and then where it flops massively, it hits back with the most emotionally engaging, and typically the SADDEST part of the story.

//And even though Hundred Line is not split up by chapters, turns out it hit the same way. I complained a bunch about the previous stuff I experienced, but everything I found in this part was LEGENDARY.

//But I can't say any more than that, because again, spoilers.

DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED/SEEN THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY. I WILL BE TALKING ABOUT VERY SPECIFIC PLOT POINTS AND MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE GAME.

//So let's get started:

DAY 57:

//One thing I will say out of the gate is that the actual plot progression over the course of these days is honestly kind of slow. It has a really slow, steady buildup, and then immediately, it all comes crashing down.

//The highlight of today's discussion, as I fully expected it would be, is Moko, as it's now been 8 days since she showed up at the school out of nowhere. Seeing as, by this point, she's the only one of the group not on the battlefield yet. I assumed that this arc would be centered around her, but there are other things to note as well.

//Specifically, the Invader Commander that we took prisoner after the last battle, is now in a cage in the courtyard, and Shouma is apparently taking care of her.

//Not gonna lie, Shouma's budding relationship with the enemy commander throughout this part, even if most of what we know is only given by word of mouth, is pretty engaging. Through this initial interaction, I started thinking that he might have had a crush on her.

//By the way, this Invader is CLEARLY an important character SOMEHOW, because she appears on the map and has her own icon, suggesting that she's someone we can talk to. As I said before, my current theory was that this Invader was going to end up being student number 16, since most of Kodaka's games have an evened out cast like that, and Hundred Line's lineup was only really one off.

//Ima and Kako show up a little later because they spent the night playing games and trying to ease into their new relationship dynamic. And credit where it is due, the way they interact now towards each other is MUCH better!

//I think the big issue is that the sister-complex nature of Ima, and the submissive sister nature of Kako made it really hard to relate and sympathize with them both. But now that Ima's worldview has changed and Kako is trying to be more independent, they now seem just like regular siblings, and I can definitely get behind that.

//I would KILL someone to have a Danganronpa/Danganronpa-style game that features siblings, and just HAVE THEM BE SIBLINGS. It's my firm belief, based on...very obvious past experience, that having siblings, especially if they're twins, in a killing game is just a really obvious plot point in the making, where one of them dies, they both die in the same trial, one impersonates the other, etc. There's so little you can do with that idea, which is why I'm never on board with it.

//This is definitely acceptable though. And as rushed as the story felt, I am happy that Ima is now treating Kako like a sister rather than his most cherished property.

//I spent Free Time as I often do; with trying to level up my social stats and physical stats, but during my break, I was given some advice on something.

//Someone told me that it was a really good idea to get everyone to learn Last Yell, and then try abusing that move as much as possible in the battles. Especially the one's that last for a while, i.e. more than one round.

//I haven't actually talked about it before, but to go into a bit more detail here, but up until now, I've mainly been using the voltage meter to use my super abilities and take out enemies in a large group. But on top of using the meter to use ultimate moves, you can also use them to give your character's a boost, like a boost in damage for instance, one of which is called Last Yell.

//The way Last Yell works is once it's activated, whenever an ally uses a skill while you're sitting at exactly 1 Action Point, there's a 50% chance that whoever has Last Yell active will trigger an effect called Support. Support enhances that skill, adding +2 damage and granting 2x Voltage instead of the usual amount.

//The really interesting, and frankly absurd part is that multiple instances of Last Yell can be triggered by a single skill, assuming that most of your characters around you have it activated. These effects stack additively. You can trigger up to 4 instances of Support, resulting in a potential +8 bonus damage and 5x Voltage gain from a single skill, assuming your luck holds.

//Which makes this ability not only INSANELY STRONG, but also VERY STACKABLE.

//The true hilarity begins when you strategically lower your AP to 1 and intentionally leave a few AP-boosting enemies alive. If you line things up right, a single skill can wipe out several of them at once, and each kill can independently trigger Last Yell, rapidly snowballing your Voltage. This Voltage can then be reinvested into activating MORE Last Yell Boosts, amplifying the effect even further.

//When it’s time to face the boss, you repeat the process: bring your AP back down to 1 and use the Voltage you’ve generated to trigger Act Again instead. With the right setup and a bit of RNG, this effectively converts 100 Voltage into multiple skill activations, each one hitting with +8 damage or more.

//And again, this lasts across the whole battle, so you don't need to reapply it to characters after each wave.

//Unfortunately, I didn't have much of a chance to actually TEST this power, because most of the fights I did in this part of the story only lasted around two rounds, and in the major boss one (spoilers) the first round only has you use two characters on the field, and the rest of your squad join in the second round. So there wasn't really any way I could use this in-game hack effectively. But it's definitely something to keep in mind for the future.

//So I grinded a bunch of BP, and got everyone in the squad to learn it.

//I DID consider maybe going on an exploration, because I want to upgrade my gear and potions and don't have enough levels or gear for it at the moment. However, I decided against it, because Nozomi is unavailable for the current period; being too focused on taking care of Moko, and can't come out with us.

//Nozomi kind of carries me during lengthy explorations, so I didn't want to risk going out there without her.

DAY 58:

//Day 58 was pretty uneventful overall. The only major development is that Moko seems to have come down with a fever, and things aren’t looking good for her. Her condition just keeps getting worse, adding to the growing sense of hopelessness surrounding her situation, and Nozomi is running herself ragged trying to help her.

//What stood out to me most during the day was my curiosity about how the invader commander might eventually tie into the main plot.

//Once again, I’ve been speculating that she could be the mysterious 16th character, though based on what’s currently happening, I’m still not entirely sure how that would work. There’s just not enough narrative groundwork laid for that twist, at least not yet.

//Again, nothing much happened today, I just spent the Free Time like I normally would, but the day wraps up with another flashback to Karua.

//In the scene, Karua is nursing a sick dog back to health, and Takumi ends up taking care of her when she herself inevitably falls ill from looking after it. Again, all of these Karua scenes tie back to her subtle connection to Nozomi in some way, and Nozomi herself is being shown to be losing sleep and health because she's too serious about taking care of Moko, just as Karua was this dog.

//It also retroactively explains her actions during the prologue, where she ran off after the stray dog that turns out to be Sirei. She just has a strong instinct to protect lost or sick animals, even at her own expense.

//By the way, I should mention something I’ve noticed but haven’t brought up until now: almost all of Takumi’s flashbacks involving Karua have Clair de Lune playing softly in the background.

//For you Danganronpa fans out there who somehow don't recognize it, that's Kaede's song from V3 that plays at the end of Chapter 1 when Shuichi is in her lab by himself, after she's died. It's a song that's pretty synonymous with Kaede and V3 as a whole, and in the music credits of the game, she's even listed as the song's composer.

//While that track is often associated with Danganronpa, it’s interesting that it only shows up once or twice in those games. Apparently, it's used far more heavily in The Evil Within, which makes sense when you realize that Masafumi Takada, the composer for both Danganronpa and The Hundred Line, also did the music for that game.

//I haven't played The Evil Within, so I don't really understand the deeper meaning of that song being in it, but there's not really much reason for it to be tied to Karua in all the scenes we see of her. So rather than being a deliberate thematic reference, I get the sense that Takada just really, REALLY likes that song, lol.

DAY 59:

//Shouma is clearly forging a deeper connection with the enemy commander. Despite the language barrier between them, he's managed to prove that meaningful communication is possible between our species. Apparently, he spoke to her, and, surprisingly, she not only understood him but seemed to genuinely enjoy the exchange. It’s a small but powerful gesture that suggests a potential bridge between our two worlds.

//However, this development doesn't sit well with the rest of the unit, and it’s easy to understand why.

//The more Shouma learns about the commander, the harder it becomes to uphold the narrative that the Invaders are fundamentally alien or inhuman. They're intelligent, capable of understanding language, and able to form emotional connections, just as any regular human being could. Considering they also use hemoanima to fight and transform, really, the only difference between us and them at this point in terms of nature is that we speak different languages.

//In particular, the likes of Kyoshika and Kurara don't like it, because as far as they're concerned, the Invaders are murderous monsters who must be annihilated. Likening them to fellow humans when protecting humanity is the reason we're here in the first place doesn't bode well for them.

//So when Shouma starts treating the enemy with empathy or even curiosity, it feels like a betrayal of purpose. After all, we’re supposed to be here to protect humanity, not question whether the so-called monsters we're fighting might actually be people too. As those differences fade, so too does the moral clarity of our mission.

//On a different note, I’ve noticed a shift in the game’s pacing. Earlier on, I remember complaining that there wasn’t enough free time to explore or build relationships, but now, I seem to have more downtime than I know what to do with.

//Wanting to make use of it, I went to the school library in the afternoon to boost my social stats and ended up reading yet another heavily censored book. But this one had an interesting detail that stood out.

//It confirmed something I’d been suspecting, and that I talked about in my previous posts for this game. Not all media was simply lost after the Tokyo Residential Complex was established. Some of it was DELIBERATELY destroyed. Specifically, anything containing records of human history before the Complex existed.

//That revelation adds an unsettling layer to the worldbuilding. It makes you wonder what exactly are they trying so hard to erase? What truths have been buried under layers of propaganda and silence?

//We obviously know it's related to World Death, but even that suggests there's more behind World Death's origins and what it actually is than we're let in on.

//With the strange behavior of the Invaders, Shouma’s growing bond with the commander, and the increasingly obvious signs of a rewritten history, I’m starting to question the entire narrative we’ve been given. The real question is...are we REALLY the heroes of this story?

//Again, mostly standard day, but I do want to quickly make a note that there was this line in the breakfast scene that suggested that not even Shouma's dog loved him, and was actually trying to run away from him. Which is actually super depressing, because Shouma's dog was supposed to be the only thing in the world that cared about him, and is the very reason he's out here fighting.

DAY 60:

//We've offically been here for two months, and all dumbass Sirei could do was show up in a suit, apparently not having prepared anything.

//This is where the somewhat casual air of the story starts to take a bit of a turn, and we get more suggestions as to what's really going on here. It starts off with Moko not getting any better, so Nozomi prepares to go out and get ingredients so she can make some kind of medicine with the Gift-O'-Matic. Takumi doesn't want her going alone, so he heads out with her.

//This isn't my first rodeo doing this as part of the story. We basically have to move the characters around the board to three locations to progress. After touching down on the second one though, it suddenly starts raining.

//That rain becomes a thunderstorm after grabbing the third and final ingredient, and not wanting to be struck by lightning, Takumi and Nozomi duck into a nearby building to wait out the storm.

//This is a pretty crucial moment, because this is the first time that Takumi and Nozomi have been alone since they met. And not in a hostile way either.

//However, even though this is Takumi's chance to finally have a one-on-one conversation with her about her potential connection to his childhood friend, he reads the room, and decides not to bring it up directly.

//Nozomi is really out here acting like she's not the most integral member of the party, smh.

//Nozomi ends up talking a little about her routine back in the TRC, though not in much detail. But in the middle of this reflective moment, she accidentally drops a major revelation; one that completely shifts Takumi’s understanding of her place in the story.

//Without meaning to, she lets it slip that she WASN'T recruited into the war effort the same way the rest of us were. In fact, from what she says, it becomes clear that she was never meant to be at the Last Defense Academy at all.

//At least...that's what I'm getting.

//By this point, I had already started to suspect something was off about Nozomi compared to the rest of the group. Rather, I had expected as much since her debut in the trailer; purely from the fact that she had a different means of combat than everyone else.

//Everyone at the academy shares one critical trait: we all have a specific kind of special blood anomaly that enables us to wield Hemoanima...or at the very least, that's the feeling I'm getting from Shouma's flashbacks to the Kamukura hospital. It’s the cornerstone of our combat potential and the primary reason we were drafted into this war.

//But Nozomi stands out. She’s never demonstrated the same affinity for Hemoanima as the rest of us. Instead, she relies entirely on her custom artificial armor to fight. And now, with this accidental admission, the pieces begin to fall into place.

//My guess is the real reason she can’t use Hemoanima is because she doesn’t have the blood type, and she was never compatible in the first place. Unlike the rest of us, she wasn’t chosen; she herself chose this path. She VOLUNTEERED to fight in a war she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

//Realizing she’s said too much, Nozomi goes quiet. But instead of shutting down completely or deflecting with a lie, she simply asks Takumi to drop the subject...for now.

//I like Nozomi's reaction to this. She doesn't freak out about it, she just makes a calm request. It shows that she trusts him, not just to keep her secret, but to respect her boundaries. And considering how rocky they started off, this is a good thing.

//She’s not ready to talk about it, and yet she’s vulnerable enough in his presence to admit that.

//However, the situation however only gets more confusing after that.

//Nozomi quietly reveals that her mother was a researcher; a detail that immediately draws ANOTHER parallel to Karua, whose mother is also known to be involved in scientific work. We found this out during Karua's introduction in the prologue.

//But as Nozomi continues, the similarities begin to blur into something more unsettling. She offhandedly mentions that her own birth was one of her mother’s many experiments, implying she may have been created or modified as part of a larger scientific agenda. It’s this almost chilling admission that casts her entire existence in a more ambiguous, possibly artificial light.

//Adding to that mystery, Nozomi's mother is supposedly dead, while Karua’s mother is still alive...

//...as far as WE presume, at least. The truth is, we have never MET Karua's mother. She only talks about how she's never home, so the possibility that Karua's mother could be gone is also non-zero.

//There's a chance that Karua's mother did pass away, and Karua never really talked about it to the Sumino family.

//And then there’s the matter of their fathers. Both Nozomi and Karua lost their fathers in car accidents during childhood. That parallel feels too specific to be coincidence, yet the emotional texture around each story is distinct enough to prevent an easy conclusion.

//I just want to give this game credit for doing a really good job at handling the Nozomi/Karua mystery. Because no mystery in this game has fucked with my brain more than this one.

//These two seem to share a mirrored origin, as if they’re reflections of one another rather than entirely separate people. On the surface, they appear fundamentally different in personality, outlook, and role in the story, but they are strikingly aligned in appearance, backstory, connections to scientific institutions, and a sense of being shaped by forces beyond their control.

//The game is walking a fine line, skillfully feeding just enough symmetry to make you suspicious, while also presenting enough divergence to keep you uncertain.

//There have been so many possibilities and explanations brought up so far. Are they sisters? Clones? Variants from different timelines?

//None of those feel right, and yet, there's no clearly obvious way to explain it either, other than Karua and Nozomi just ARE the same person. But again, even THAT doesn't feel right with all that we know so far!

DAY 61:

//By the time Takumi and Nozomi return to the academy the next morning, having weathered the storm overnight, they're greeted at the entrance by Eito, who’s waiting with unexpected news.

//Though their original reason for venturing out was to gather ingredients to make medicine for Moko, it turns out that Moko has already made a full recovery in their absence. And sure enough, when we return to the cafeteria, there she is, waiting for us.

//(GOD she is so absurdly big...!)

//Upon reuniting, Moko properly introduces herself for the first time, and her presence INSTANTLY shifts the atmosphere. What follows is a heartwarming reunion between her and Nozomi.

//As for Moko herself...Yeah, I REALLY like her!

//It becomes clear pretty quickly that all the good feats Nozomi spouted about Moko before are true. She's loud, goofy, and delightfully over-the-top, she barrels into the scene with an energy that’s impossible to ignore. Her personality is larger than life, and in just this brief introduction, she manages to bring levity and laughter.

//There’s something incredibly endearing about how unfiltered and open she is, even when she's saying some kind of violent bullshit. She has a kind of “big sister” presence, but not in a solemn or protective way, more in the sense that she’s the type to ruffle your hair, tease you relentlessly, and then throw you over her shoulder affectionately.

//Even in this short exchange, it’s hard not to smile when she’s on screen.

//Although, we do get a very brief hint that something's not quite right with her when everyone asks if she's fit and fighting ready to combat the Invaders. More on that in a bit though.

DAY 62:

//Takumi begins today dwelling on his discussions with Nozomi, and isn't really giving much attention to her accidental confession. Instead, he's focusing more in the experimental side of things.

//Assuming Nozomi IS Karua, he suspects that the experiments that Nozomi underwent is the reason why she doesn't remember him. Which...you know, I'm willing to give credence on this line of thinking. Even if I am left guessing, that's still a better avenue than nothing.

//But even with that, there's so much lore to unpack here.

//For reasons that I can't quite explain, I keep going to check up on the captured commander every morning before I head to the restaurant, thinking that she might do something or say anything to me. I kind of wanted to see if anything had changed behind the scenes.

//On the first day when I went to check on her she looked sad, but since then, her expression is more passive and she hasn't been saying anything. She's not been smiling or anything, but I keep going back to look.

//Entering the cafeteria, Moko is standing in the middle of the room and recounting a story that's making everyone laugh their asses off over it.

//Moko tells a lot of stories at breakfast over the course of these few days. The best part about them is I can't tell if they're tall tales or not, because knowing who's writing this game, these events are perfectly plausible.

//What made me laugh was that whenever all the characters are in a room together, I have a tendency to talk to all the characters I'm not supposed to talk to, then talk to the important character to progress the story; just so I don't miss out on all the optional dialogue. And this time when I did it, I talked to Ima, who was basically saying that he's worried that Kako would be inspired by Moko, and hopes that she doesn't start thinking she wants to be like her, followed immediately by Kako saying she wants to be just like her. That gave me a tickle.

//We actually cut to business quickly after the story, and as it turns out, Moko, suspiciously, doesn't remember anything when she got captured by the invaders, suggesting that her memory had been wiped. So we're unfortunately not getting much out of her on THAT front for the moment.

//Not that I expected we would. We don't tend to have a lot of luck with this kind of thing.

//It took me a while to click honestly. I thought that the game was suggesting that Shouma was going to have a romantic tension with the Invader we captured, but right now it seems more like he's treating her like a pet.

//RESPECTFULLY of course, but he's not quite seeing her as an equal human being. Or rather, maybe he is seeing her as an equal, but only because he himself thinks he's on a dog's level.

DAY 63:

//NOOOOTHING FUUUUCKING HAAAAPPEEEENED!

//Basically we just rinse and repeated what happened the previous day. Wake up, hear Moko chatting about shit in the cafeteria, something doesn't seem right, Free Time.

//I do have a couple small highlights. For one, you can talk to Yugamu in the hallway before you go to breakfast.

//Takumi and Yugamu haven't had a single wholesome interaction yet. Takumi just DOES NOT LIKE THIS MAN, haha.

//Similarly, Darumi clearly doesn't like Moko at all. But obviously, that's because happy situations where people are alive and merry are her kryptonite basically.

//And once again, Nozomi herself seems to be noticing more keenly that something is up with Moko.

DAY 64:

//That kind of culminates into today, and the following day too.

//The moment you walk into the cafeteria, you sense there's something off about Moko. Unlike the last two days, she’s not at her usual post telling the morning story, and instead looking distant and aloof in the corner, in a way that's kind of eerie.

//I actually kind of started getting chills at this point. I should have realized at that time that they must have meant something.

//More directly, the news for today is that through his interactions, Shouma has somehow taught the Invader to speak like a human. Or at the very least, he managed to teach her how to say the word "Beautiful" in their language.

//I honestly do feel a little bit bad for Shouma in this part of the story, because he clearly cares about the Invader we captured. But everyone else is treating her like a feral animal with rabies, and honestly, that might be the safer bet. But still, she doesn’t seem violent. I just hope Shouma’s attachment doesn’t end up getting someone hurt, or cause a rift in the group.

//Later that evening, Nozomi shows up at Takumi’s door, and invites him to a quiet classroom to talk privately. She says she suspects Moko is hiding something, which...yeah, no kidding. Moko’s whole vibe has been really off lately, despite having a really corny introduction.

//After a short conversation, Nozomi agrees to confront her. It's risky, but we need answers before this situation spirals any further out of control.

DAY 65:

//This is where things go from "Oh God" to "OH SHIT!"

//Remember how I mentioned that this part of the story is the most emotional trainwreck we've seen so far? Well, here's why.

//Moko tells another story in the morning, and I swear, these tales get more outlandish as things go along.

//But more importantly, Takumi suspects that Nozomi called Moko to the same room she called him the previous day, and worrying for her, he goes to eavesdrop.

//Things...don't go well.

//Kudos to Nozomi, she at least goes out of her way to explain thoroughly to Moko what she noticed, and why she was concerned, on top of giving her very good reasoning for it. But Moko's response is to blow up on her, and she even accuses her of being a fake friend, getting close for no reason other than wanting whatever information she forgot about the Invaders.

//And it becomes very clear very quickly why Moko is suddenly acting so untowards...and it's NOT pretty.

//Takumi goes to check up on Nozomi afterwards to see if she's okay, and ends up coming clean about eavesdropping.

//Side note, Nozomi's room is actually super cute and cozy looking. Not-Not really much of a big deal, kinda just wanted to mention it because I like it.

//Anyway, a conversation ensues, and Takumi comforts Nozomi, sympathizing with her, and Nozomi resolves to apologize to Moko in the morning.

//Things seem like they're really tense after Moko and Nozomi's argument, but then somehow, things get even worse.

//And by the way...get used to hearing me say that. Because for these last few days to cover here, we just get bad news after bad news after bad news, and we keep getting the shit beaten out of us by the narrative.

//The boy wreathed in the Undying Flames appears again in Takumi’s room that night, and as we are already aware of by now, every time he shows up, disaster follows. First, it was Sirei’s death, then Hiruko vanished, etcetera.

//Takumi doesn’t waste a second. He bolts after the boy, convinced the ghost is headed toward the Defense Room (Not sure why because if the ghost was looming in the school he'd have multiple chances to get to the Defense Room, but...okay)

//But instead of catching up to him, he runs straight into Moko in the hallway. And this is where everything gets surreal.

//Moko's dialogue starts glitching with random capital letters in it. Her sprite begins to warp as well, and as Takumi follows her, her features become twisted and grotesque.

//When Takumi finally reaches the Defense Room, it’s not the boy waiting there, but Moko. And what he sees is nothing short of a nightmare. Moko is standing far too close to the barrier of Undying Flames. Takumi tries to pull her back, to stop her from breaching whatever lies behind the fire, but then she turns...

//OH FUCK MY ASS!!!??

//Yeah, not gonna lie, even with the buildup, this CG scared the SHIT out of me! It was WAY more horrifying than I thought it would end up being, and it's enough to make someone pull a Tsubasa and throw the hell up.

//When I first saw what was going on, I had the sickening thought that what happened is the Invaders turned Moko into one of them when they captured her. I haven't talked about it explicitly, but I had this theory before that the Invaders weren’t born, but were actually humans twisted into something else. If they captured Moko, maybe that’s what happened to her. And maybe all of her weird mannerisms the previous few days were just the result of her humanity slipping away.

//Just as things spiral completely out of control, not only does Nozomi appear, but the Undying Flames react, almost like they recognize her presence. They lash out at "Moko," hurling her out of the room and out of the school entirely.

//Takumi and Nozomi go to get her, but before that, Takumi insists they suit up. So with it being just the two of them, and with no alarms sounding, they jump into the battlefield.

//Before we fight, we get a few more cutscenes of Nozomi trying to get through to Moko. I get where she's coming from, like, she really wants to believe there’s still a piece of her friend left in that thing, but man, she’s really slow to accept that Moko is long gone.

//It’s rough to watch honestly. The story is putting Nozomi through the emotional wringer, and she barely gets a breath before it throws her into another devastating scene.

//The first round of the fight kicks off with just Nozomi and Takumi squaring off against the thing wearing Moko’s face, and a swarm of smaller, shadow-like creatures she summons.

//I'm gonna be completely honest, I wasn’t expecting her to hit that hard (despite, you know, the fact that Moko is a wrestler), so Takumi actually got taken out in the first round. Luckily, he did enough damage, and Nozomi finished Moko off pretty quickly.

/.Visually, this whole display is horrifically stunning. Not only is the enemy design grotesque, but the dialogue cuts deep. The horror elements are firing on all cylinders, and I think this is the closest I've ever been to finding one of Kodaka's games genuinely scary.

//Thankfully, backup arrives just in time. The rest of the gang shows up finally, where Yugamu puts his bizarre and encyclopedic knowledge of the human body to use, and explains the full scope of the situation.

//As it turns out, Moko wasn’t possessed, and she didn’t turn into anything. What we’ve been fighting isn’t Moko at all. It’s an Invader Commander wearing her skin, and it's been im impersonating her from the start.

//Looking back, this explains A LOT. It explains how and why Moko was able to get through the wall of fire without any hemoanima-based fire hydrant, and ALSO why when she showed up, the school alarm sounded. It's kinda freaky looking back and noticing all the oddities.

//Then Fake Moko turns up the nightmare factor, as she starts creating twisted shadow versions of the team; one for each of us. It’s a full-blown shadow clone battle, and honestly, it’s a fun mechanic.

//Darumi throws out a meta-comment pre-fight, "Clones make things easier for the devs," which cracks me up even as I’m clenching through the chaos.

//Honestly, this battle, at least for the first half, is TOUGH! More than I expected. The shadow clones have all our moves and abilities, and the only saving grace is that they don't have much health, meaning one good super move is taking them out easily. It's best to make sure you use the characters who can hit in a wide area with their attacks, like Gaku or Ima.

//But I make a point to let Nozomi land the final blow. She’s earned it.

//When the Invader finally collapses, it drops the mask. I'm impressed because this wasn't just mimicry. This thing had access to all of Moko’s memories, her voice, her habits, everything. It was a near-perfect copy. The only reason we even noticed something was wrong was because of the subtle breaks.

//Then comes the gut punch: the commander confirms it. The real Moko is dead. There’s no saving her. She’s gone. And with that, any hope of her returning to the team dies too.

//On top of that, the commander's initial plan was to go in under the guise of Moko being sick, and get to the Defense Room without anyone noticing. But because Nozomi never left its side, that was impossible. They tried to do it on the day Nozomi left with Takumi, which is why Moko conviniently woke up.

//So we're probably not even gonna be able to see what Moko can do until we do another playthrough, where we might get a chance to save her before she gets captured.

//This affects everyone pretty badly, because they'd all grown to really like Moko, only now finding out she was never the real deal. Just a copy that was out to get them all. The scene ends with Eito killing it when it went silent.

//Out of rage, detest, and spite against the Invaders for what they did to Moko, the others are ready to take it out on the Invader we’ve been keeping locked up, the one Shouma’s been trying to reach. Ultimately though, they’re simply heartbroken, betrayed, and just looking for somewhere to put that pain.

//But before it explodes into another tragedy, Eito steps in. Then Takumi. And, in what might be the most heartbreaking part of all, even Nozomi asks everyone to stop. Despite being ridden with Despair over finding out her best friend was killed by the enemy and impersonated, she rightfully points out that now's not really a good time. They should come to a conclusion in the morning.

DAY 66:

//No, far from it. Day 65 was an emotional beating in and of itself, but waking up literally the next morning, and things somehow go from ABSOLUTELY AWFUL to EVEN WORSE!

//We honestly shouldn't have even brought up the possibility of killing the Invader we captured, because lo and behold, that bitch ESCAPED from the cage!

//The timing is way too convenient. The lock on her holding cell has been clearly broken, not picked or bypassed, and considering she didn't have the means of getting out on her own because her abilities were deactivated, someone let her out. That much is obvious.

//Naturally, all eyes turn to Shouma. He had the motive and he had the access, since he was assigned to watch her. It adds up on the surface, but even the characters themselves point out that it still doesn’t sit right. Shouma doesn't have the emotional will to betray everyone, as much as he cared for the Invader and as much as he tried to defend her. Plus, he had the key to her cage, so why would he break the lock.

//Personally, I suspect Eito again. He's still my prime suspect for killing Sirei and making Hiruko vanish, as well as burning our food. So this could be the next phase of his plan.

//The problem is I really don't understand his angle this time, assuming that he IS the traitor.

//Then again, I never understand what his angle is. He’s clearly trying to weaken us from within for whatever reason, but this seems like a really unprompted tactic. Why release someone we were planning to execute anyway?

//Takumi, on the other hand, doubles down on blaming the Undying Flames Boy. He’s convinced the ghost is orchestrating all of this from the shadows.

//But Nozomi, ever the voice of reason despite everything, finally pushes back, finally pointing out that without the boy’s sudden appearance, Takumi never would have found Fake Moko in time. If anything, the boy SAVED us.

//I don't really get why Takumi is so insistent the Undying Flames boy is evil when he hasn't really done anything untowards yet. Takumi might just be that stupid, or at the very least, he's not spending much time thinking about it.

//And just as we’re all knee-deep in suspicion and tension, the situation gets even worse. Turns out, the escaped Invader didn’t leave alone.

//One thing that everyone noticed early that morning is that the Tsukumo Twins didn't show up to breakfast. We assumed they were late again, because they both slept in after the last big battle we did, but the situation is...far worse than we thought.

//Takumi goes to the Entrance Hall, and as he does, Kako suddenly comes back in, dressed in her Class Armor, and no sign of Ima. She passes out, and after she recovers, we find out that the Invader left the academy and took him hostage.

//Ima. The newest member of our team. The one who just started opening up, started fitting in. And now he’s gone.

//But...haha...SAY IT WITH ME EVERYONE! "IT! GETS! WORSE!"

//The fire extinguishers in the entrance hall and the emergency ones on the bus are BOTH BROKEN. So not only can we not get outside the Wall of Flames to chase after Ima and save him but we’re essentially TRAPPED IN THE SCHOOL! Surrounded by the Undying Flames, with no clear way out.

//This is bad for multiple reasons. The main one is that we obviously can't rescue Ima from whatever fate he's currently suffering, but also we get most of our resources from random shit we happen to scavange in the wild. Now we can't even do that.

// might be misremembering here, but I'm pretty sure Takumi blames the Undying Flames boy again.

I still don’t understand Takumi’s obsession with him. Every time he’s shown up, something helpful has happened, if not directly, then indirectly. He’s never spoken a word, never raised a hand against us. If anything, he seems like the only one trying to guide us. And yet, Takumi can’t let it go.

//The loss of Ima hits hard. We were just beginning to get to know him, to fold him into the rhythm of the group. And now, just like Hiruko, and just like Moko, he’s gone. Probably permanently. At this point, I’m scared to hope for anything different.

Conclusion:

//After my disappointments from the previous arc of the story, this one brought some amazing plot points, mysteries, and generally awesome times all around. Here's my takeaways:

The mystery of how Nozomi is connected to Karua, or whether they are the same person or not, is starting to become more and more layered, and as such, I gradually grow more and more interested in it.

I feel really bad for Nozomi in this part. She got emotionally damaged by what happened and I don't know how she's going to cope with it going forward.

Shouma's unexpected fondness and budding relationship with the Invader Commander, though it only lasted a few days, was unexpected, but not unwelcome. I enjoyed it.

The whole situation with Moko turning out to be an enemy commander in disguise was so sad, so TERRIFYING, and so BRILLIANT. Day 65 genuinely had my heart racing the whole time.

My hopes for Ima's survival after this are not high. Now that the Invaders have him, I think it's light's out for him. He's in my prayers though.

I am honestly a little disappointed that both Ima and Moko are gone. I only got to use Ima in two battles, and I didn't get to use Moko in ANY. I'm really hoping my theory about the timeline reset is right so I can use them both for real.

//Man, you don't know how good it feels to finally be back to playing this game again. Like I said, I was starting to go into withdrawals during my break. I'm enjoying it THAT much, even with all the despair and pain it's giving me.

//Can't wait to see what happens next~

-Mod

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therealcocoshady · 1 year ago

Note

Ok sorry for blowing up your asks, but I have one that might be right up your angsty alley…

Marshall is having a particularly hard time on one of the anniversaries of Proof’s passing…🕊️ He’s super vulnerable with reader and she has to comfort him 😔🥺

DIFFICULT 🕊️

Eminem x Assistant Reader

Synopsis : Em is nowhere to be found as you're waiting for him for an important meeting. Turns out... It's the anniversary of Proof's passing and he needs you.

Tags : Vulnerability - Grief - Angst - Comfort

Author's Note : Thank you for this Ask ! I low-key love that you thought of me when it comes to angsty requests 👀. I got inspired and ended up writing quite a bit but I'm afraid it's all over the place. I hope you like it nonetheless. ❤️

Do you know where he is ? Paul asked, visibly unnerved. He should already be here !

He’s coming, you assured the manager. I reminded him of this meeting on Friday, don’t worry, he’s going to show up.

It’s your job to make sure he shows up on time, Y/N, Paul added sternly. That’s what personal assistants are for.

He’s never late, you said. I’m sure there’s a good reason. Something must have come up…

It was unlike Marshall to show up late to a work meeting, especially when it involved music. In the past year, since you had started working for him, he had never shown up late anywhere. If anything, he was a bit neurotic about punctuality. « Early is on time, on time is late » he always said. And when it came to anything regarding his latest album, he tended to show up extremely early, polishing details up until the last minute. Except that, today, he was almost thirty minutes late and you were facing Paul and Dre on your own, and there was only so much small talk you could make.

Look, if the album’s not ready for me to listen to yet, you guys just have to say so, Dre said.

No, it is, Paul assured him. I mean, you know Marshall, he’s always trying to polish and tweak little things, but we have a version that’s more than ready for you. We wouldn’t have you come from LA otherwise…

I’ll try an call him, you said.

You got up and went to your office. You were starting to be a little freaked out. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but you were starting to feel scared that something terrible had happened. One time, he got into a car crash and was not even that late. Thirty minutes late for Marshall was basically four hours late for anyone else. You got out of the room and tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. Had he lost his phone ? You knew he hated the iPhone you had convinced him to buy - to replace his more than ancient Blackberry - and he used it as little as possible, but him losing anything was unlikely. And he knew about this meeting. You had specifically reminded him of it. He wouldn’t show up late to a meeting with Dre. He had way too much respect for the man. You nervously checked his iCloud calendar, thinking that maybe he was confused about the time. Unlikely but not impossible either. You remembered adding the event « Meeting with Dre - ALBUM VERSION 1 » for this Monday, 9:00 AM a while ago. But it was nowhere to be found. Had it been accidentally deleted ? Had you dropped the ball ? No. Impossible. Not to toot your own horn, but you wouldn’t screw up like that. It was probably a bug. You checked the week’s other events. Deleted too. You knew he had other meetings and studio sessions planned, but they did not appear on the calendar. Weird. Especially since last week’s event were still appearing, and the following week’s too. It looked like someone had cleared this week’s schedule and you knew it wasn’t you. It had to be Marshall, then, since he was the only other person to have access to his calendar. You were worried. He would not clear a whole week’s schedule, especially not when he was nearly done with his album. Something had to have happened. Something awful, by the looks of it. Your mind immediately went to his family. They were the only people he would clear his schedule for. You decided to call Hailie, hoping that nothing awful had happened to her or her sisters.

Hey Y/N, you heard her soft voice say as she picked up the phone. How are you ?

Hey Hailie, you said nervously. Are you alright ?

All good, she said. Why ? Are you ok ? Is there anything wrong ?

Um… I don’t know, you said. I'm trying to reach your Dad. Have you heard of him ?

Not since Thursday, I think. He told me he was spending the weekend with you. What’s wrong ?

He’s just a little late to a meeting, you said as you tried to sound casual. I was worried that something had happened to you, your sisters, Nate…

No, we’re all good, she said reassuringly. Look, I’m in Chicago, but I can try and call him…

Don’t worry about it, you said. Enjoy Chicago.

Thank you ! See you !

Hailie didn’t seem too worried, so there was at least that. However, you were a little bugged off. You absolutely had not spent the weekend with Marshall and, frankly, you were a bit shocked that he had lied to his daughter about it. Not that you never spent the weekend together - in the past six months, it had happened quite a bit - but he was not the type to lie to his daughter. It was odd that he would use you as a lie, especially since your relationship - if you could call it that - was still in the developing stage. As far as Hailie was concerned, you were the closest thing her Dad had to a girlfriend but, in actuality, it was a bit more complicated. It wasn’t necessarily serious or committed, and there most certainly wasn’t any label on it. You were his personal assistant, whom he occasionally fooled around with. The only reason Hailie saw you as his girlfriend was that she had walked in on the two of you making out with very, very few clothes on. Thank God, she was an adult and didn’t really want to know anything about it. No one ever mentioned the incident but she assumed there was something between you and Marshall. And there was. In a way. But he wasn’t really the kind of guy to put a label on it and you knew it. He was extremely guarded and, even though you knew you were one of the people closest to him, you didn’t expect much. He was a really great boss, amazing man and more than satisfactory lover, but you knew him enough to know it would never evolve into anything serious. « I don’t do relationships, you know » he had once told you. And you didn’t mind. You enjoyed things just the way they were. The way you saw it, the sex you sometimes had - usually on work trips or late nights - was a perk to your job, along with the generous salary and health benefits. But regardless of all that, him lying about spending the weekend with you was extremely odd. You tried calling him again, but were sent straight to voicemail. You sheepishly went back to the conference room.

Did you talk to him ? Paul asked.

No news, you said. That’s odd. I’ll go to his place and if he’s not there, I’ll try the hospitals. I’m sorry.

I hope he’s ok, Dre said. Keep us posted ?

Of course.

You made your way to your car and drove to his place. Security knew your car and plates and saw you often enough to let you through the gates. You parked in front of Marshall’s house and immediately noticed that the car he used the most was parked out front. He was home. Thank God, you didn’t have to worry about a car crash. You rang the bell but no one came to open it. Maybe he had slipped in the shower and injured his head ? Or fallen down the stairs ? No. You often joked about him being older but he wasn’t geriatric either. Still, you were worried so you used your spare key and let yourself in.

The house was unusually dark and messy. You checked downstairs, the living room, kitchen, office… It was messy, like someone had rummaged through things, but Marshall was nowhere to be found. You tried every room upstairs, every closet, every bedroom, but he wasn’t there either. You decided to try the only remaining space you hadn’t checked : the basement (you doubted he was in the garage - he liked his cars but not enough to cancel a meeting about music). That’s where you found him : in one of the dimly lit rooms he had converted into a home music studio, laying on the carpet, eyes closed, headphones on his head. You gasped and almost thought he was dead. You immediately rushed to his side and checked his breath. As soon as you approached, he slowly opened his eyes and groaned.

Marshall, are you alright ? You asked. Are you hurt ?

No, he said in a raspy voice before sitting up.

You examined his face : he looked like a zombie, or at least like someone who had forgotten what sleep and food were. And judging by the smell, he had also forgotten about showers. You usually enjoyed his masculine scent but now he was smelling as rank as a teenage boy addicted to video games.

What are you doing here ? He asked.

I came to check you weren’t dead, you said. You missed the meeting with Dre. Paul is furious.

Wait… What day is it ? He asked in confusion.

Monday, you said. April 12th.

Fuck.

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard, and you inspected him closer. His eyes were bloodshot, with huge dark circles. The beard he usually kept well-trimmed was all over the place, so was his short hair, and his breath smelled of energy drink. He had always had a penchant for soda and Redbull, but it usually wasn’t to the point of smelling like a candy factory. Well, if you added the smell of sweat, it was more like someone who ran a marathon in the Redbull factory. Marshall looked at you without saying a word.

Are you alright ? You asked.

Does it look like I’m alright ? He groaned.

Not really, you admitted - not really knowing what to say.

Why are you ask, then ?

If you hadn’t been so worried, you would have snapped at him for behaving like an ass, but it wasn’t him. You sighed and looked at the CDs he’d been listening to : « Searching for Jerry Garcia » and « I Miss the Hip Hop Shop » by Proof. That’s when it hit you : today was April 12th and April 11th was the anniversary of his best friend’s passing. The both of you were sitting on the carpet, not saying a word. He knew that you knew.

Do you… Um… Want to talk about it ? You asked tentatively.

I need a shower, he said.

Yes he did. He definitely did. You got up and waited for him to do the same but he simply groaned as he tried to move. You gave him your hand and helped him up as he let out a moan and held his back. You wondered how long he’d been laying there, listening to music and losing track of time. He seemed to have trouble even standing up. « God, he must be exhausted », you thought.

Need help ? You asked.

Y-Yeah, he said.

Shower ?

Yeah.

Without a word, you helped him to the nearest bathroom where he started undressing without even waiting for you to leave. You could feel your cheeks burn. You’d seen him naked before, sure, but this different than the two of you shedding your clothes in a passionate moment. Now, you had the feeling of seeing something you weren’t supposed to. It felt a bit weird. You watched him step in the shower and went upstairs, to his closet, to pick some clothes for him to wear. You grabbed boxers, some sweatpants, a wife beater and a hoodie and put them in the bathroom, near the sink before opening the windows to let in some light and fresh air, as you tidied up a bit. You’d spent some time in his house before but you had never seen the place this messy.

Thanks for the clothes, Marshall said as he emerged from the bathroom.

Feeling better ? You asked.

Yeah.

When was the last time you showered ? You asked.

I don’t know, he shrugged.

Last time you ate ?

Fri…Sat… I don’t know, he replied.

He seemed gaunt and, even if the shower seemed to have done some good, Marshall seemed like a corpse. He was standing there, staring at you, not extremely responsive. You had never seen him like this and it was definitely a far cry from his usual self. Ever since you had met him for the first time, you had found him to have an impressive presence. Whenever he walked into a room, he naturally drew attention to him and he had such charisma that he seemed bigger than he actually was. But for the first time, he looked weak and lost.

Are you hungry ? You asked.

A bit, he replied.

Sit, you said. I’ll prepare something. What do you want ? Pasta ?

Whatever, he said.

He sat on the couch and you made your way to the kitchen. Being the one responsible for his shopping, you knew the pantry like the back of your hand and knew exactly what was in there. You decided to make some homemade spaghetti, using Mom’s Spaghetti sauce with homemade garlic toasts. His lazy comfort food. When you brought his plate to the living room, he was manspreading, looking at the ceiling.

Thanks, he said as you handed him the food. Chips would have been enough, you know ?

You need to eat a real meal, you simply said.

He nodded and started to eat. You noticed he was avoiding your gaze. He usually didn’t have much trouble maintaining eye contact, except for when he was ashamed, or sad, or tired. In this case, you knew it was probably a mixture of everything. There was no doubt as to his exhaustion and sadness, and you knew he would feel ashamed for missing an important work meeting. You looked at him and left the room to go and call Paul.

So ? He asked. How is he ?

He’s… sick, you lied, knowing full well Marshall wouldn’t want you telling people how you had found him.

Sick ? The managed asked. What does he have ?

The flu, you said. It’s pretty nasty. I cleared up his schedule for the week. He needs rest. He’s really sorry about the meeting.

Alright. I’ll call him later, he said. Dre has to leave today, we’ll have to set up another meeting.

I’ll let him know.

You also texted Hailie to let her know you had managed to get ahold of her Dad. When you got back to Marshall, he was looking at a picture frame of him and Proof. From the looks of it, you guessed it was from 2005-2006. You sat next to him in silence.

The flu ? He asked in a raspy voice.

Couldn’t come up with anything better on the spot, you said. At least, it buys you the rest of the week so you can rest.

No need, he said. I can… I can work.

Bullshit, you sighed.

He stared in your eyes for the first time all day and sighed. His eyes went back to the picture frame and you could see hum swallow dryly.

Went was this taken ? You asked.

March 2006, he said in a breaking voice. It’s the last picture of him I have…

His breath was shaky and you could tell he was on the verge if tears. You placed a hand over his and gently stroked his skin.

It’s ok to cry, you know ? You said softly.

You weren’t too sure why you said that. Of course it was ok to cry. A man in his fifties, especially your boss, did not need your permission to cry. Or so you thought. Because as soon as the words left your lips, the tears started to flow and he started sobbing. You put a hand on his back and tried to soothe him while you saw his face redden and scrunch up, his tears wetting his face. It was painful seeing him like this and you wished there was something you could do. If that were possible, you would gladly take his pain and make it yours.

Fu-fuck, I-I’m sorry, he said after a while.

You have nothing to apologize for, you said gently. It’s ok. He was your best friend. It’s ok to be sad.

I-I fucked up…

It’s just a work meeting, you reminded him. We’ll set up another meeting with Dre, I’ll move a couple of appointments, it’s fine.

No, not… I-I…

He was trying to speak but he wasn’t making much sense. He was stuttering, his voice cracking, changing pitch… You put your arms around him, half-expecting him to push you away but he didn’t. You kept running a hand up and down his back to soothe him a bit and it seemed effective.

Thank you, Y/N, he said.

Were you like this all weekend ? You asked.

Yeah…

Is that why you told Hailie I was spending the weekend with you ?

I… Yeah, he said sheepishly. I didn’t want the kids to see me like this.

I see, you said. So… what ? You listened to his music, looked at pictures and lost track of time ?

I guess, he shrugged. I… I tried to go to his grave yesterday but it was packed.

I guess a lot of people miss him, you said.

No, it was… I saw them and they were wearing… My tee-shirts. My merch. They were my fans. On his grave. And it drove me fucking mad. Because I couldn’t even get out of my car, and I had to see these people pay respect but they were fans. They didn’t know him. And I saw the posts on social media. And people keep on making it about me.

His voice broke again. You had often had conversations with him about fame and how he was dealing with it. Most of the time, he was grateful for it, though he often gave the impression that he didn’t really get why he was famous and how people could look up to him so much. « It’s just me », he often said. Deep down, he only saw himself as a guy trying to make it in hip-hop, trying to be the best emcee. Fame was never really part of his plan, though he was grateful for the success and love of people granted him. But the way he was speaking, it seemed like less of a blessing and more of a curse. He explained to you that he felt guilty for people making Proof’s death about him. Sure, he was his best friend, but he was so much more, and he just wished people would respect his legacy and everything he meant to the hip-hop culture. He also felt guilty when he thought about Proof’s family, who didn’t only have to deal with a tragic loss but also his own fame, and always being asked questions about him.

His wife… She always hated me, you know ? He said. She hated all of us. Proof was never home, always either getting in trouble with us or trying to keep us out of it. Now we don’t speak too much and… I mean, I get it, I was his friend, not hers, but… I don’t know. I was supposed to be an uncle to his kids, you know ? I’m supposed to be there for them, not make things difficult. I’m supposed to be the one sending flowers, not receiving them in their place.

Do you keep in touch ? You asked.

I try, he said. I mean, if the kids need something, they know they can call. Sharonda too. She never would, she’s too proud but… Yeah, I just wish I could do more, you know ?

I know, you said. You shouldn’t feel guilty…

No, I should, he shrugged. When he died, I was a massive asshole about it… I mean, I guess I made it a lot about me. But now it makes me so mad. And sad. And I miss him so much and I just wish I could apologize to him.

For what ? You asked as you stroked his hand.

Everything, he shrugged. For being ungrateful and not seeing everything he did to hold down the fort. Proof… He was strong when I was weak. And I never got to tell him how thankful I am. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be making burgers.

I’m sure he knew how much you loved him, you said softly.

I hope, he said. He was everything to me… Like… We didn’t love each other like that, you know. Like, no homo or whatever. But sometimes I think he was the love of my life. In a platonic way. Like, he was my other half, the one who made me a better person. And now that he’s gone… I’m just me. And it’s hard.

You’re still pretty great, you said. And I know he would be proud of you.

I… I don’t know, he said.

He seemed lost in his thoughts. You realized you had been stroking his back the whole time and stopped. He turned to you with his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t even have to ask for you to resume. It was the first time the two of you had such a prolonged physical contact without it being sexual and you wondered if he noticed, too. He closed his eyes and you looked at him some more. He was clearly exhausted and you weren’t too sure how long he would need to sleep. Probably a long time.

You should go to bed, you said softly.

I guess, he shrugged.

You need rest, you insisted. I’ll do the dishes and go home, ok ? You can call me if you need anything.

Can you stay ? He asked nervously. I… I don’t feel like being… alone.

Sure, you said with a hint of surprise.

Ok.

He got up and headed upstairs. When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow.

You don’t want to come ?

Upstairs ? You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. To your… room ?

You said I needed to sleep, he pointed out. I’m not sleeping on the damn couch.

You shrugged and followed him. That was new. You had slept over a couple of times, but never in the same bed as him. The only circumstances in which you had seen his bedroom were strictly sexual. But as soon as the deed was done, he wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you. And even when you had slept with him during work trips, you’d been back to your own room after. It was one of the many ways in which he could be guarded and you knew it had nothing to do with you. He just had his quirky, peculiar ways. He got in bed and looked at you intently.

Come, he said.

Ok, you said as you sat next to him.

Remove your socks, he instructed.

I’m not removing my socks, you said. My feet are cold.

You’re not getting in my bed with your dirty socks, he pointed out.

I just put them on this morning, you said. They’re not dirty.

It’s a pet peeve, he said. Just… Socks off, ok ? And get under the covers.

You scoffed. If he was in a good enough state to be oddly specific - as he often was about practically everything in his life - it was a good sign. You took your socks off and sat in bed, under the covers. It felt weird but Marshall didn’t seem to pick on it. He simply laid there and stared at you.

You’re not laying down ? He finally asked.

Um… Sitting is fine, you said.

Can you lie down, please ? He asked.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow but still did as you were told. As soon as you laid down next to him, he closed his eyes. Given how exhausted he looked, you half-expected him to fall asleep right then and there but he didn’t. Instead, he kept on tossing and turning.

What’s up ? You asked. Do you need anything ?

I think it’s the Redbull, he said. I haven’t drank much else in days. It’s keeping me awake.

Oh, you said. Let’s talk, then.

About what ? He asked.

I don’t know, you shrugged. We can talk about anything. What’s up with the cleared schedule on iCloud ? Did you do that ?

Yeah… I don’t know, he said sheepishly. I… I went to the cemetery yesterday and when I couldn’t go and had to go home, I guess I lost it. There were these thoughts in my head and… I’m not sure I can do it anymore. Without Proof it’s… too hard.

Tears were welling in his eyes again. It had been more than fifteen years since Proof’s passing and Marshall had put out quite a few albums in that time, but the wound still seemed fresh. It wasn’t a matter of his technical ability to do it without Proof - of course he could - it was about whether or not he wanted to.

Ok, you said.

Ok ? He asked.

What do you want me to say ? You asked. Do you want me to plead for you to keep going ? I’m not going to. If you want to quit and retire, that’s ok, you’re allowed.

Really ?

I mean… Yeah, you said simply. It’s your decision. If you think you don’t have anything else to bring to the table, that’s fine. You’ve had a good run and a career people can only dream of having. If you decide to put an end to it, that’s fine.

Wait… No, he said. I mean, your job is to talk me out of it. Is that some reverse psychology thing ?

It’s Paul’s job to talk you out of it, you clarified. Me, I’m just a personal assistant. My job is to manage your schedule and make life easier for you. Whether or not you put out music, my job’s fine as long as you need me to do your shopping, come to football games with you and remind you of your dentist’s appointments. Next one is in two months by the way.

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. His face was still puffy and he still didn’t look his best, but hearing him laugh - however lightly - was good. He was a great person and you hated seeing him like this. Of all the people you had ever met, he was the one who had suffered the most, and deserved it the least. He was a good, hardworking, honest and generous man, on top of being one of the most talented people ever. His sadness was breaking your heart. If his career was making him sad, if keeping on going without Proof was too hard, he should be allowed to quit. He had earned it and, in your opinion, he didn’t have anything left to prove to anyone.

So you don’t care whether I end my career or not ? He asked with an amused look.

As a fan, I think it would be tragic, you said. Especially If you don’t put out that last album. It’s your best work so far. But as a person… What I care about is you, Marshall. I’m in the front row, seeing how hard you work every day. If you say that’s too hard, then that’s too hard and I trust you on that. If you think you’ll be happier doing something else, just enjoying life with your family and focusing on your charity, you should do that.

Proof would kick my ass for thinking of quitting, he said pensively.

I think Proof would want you to be happy, you pointed out.

He hummed and looked at you. He brought a hand to your face and stroked your face as a single tear rolled on his cheek. You smiled and wiped the tear, letting your hand cup his face. You stared at each other in silence. It was unusual but, oddly enough, not uncomfortable.

Thank you for staying, Y/N, he simply said before letting out a small yawn.

You should really try and get some sleep, you replied softly.

He nodded and closed his eyes as you heard him take deep breaths. A couple of minutes later, he was asleep. You could hear him snore lightly. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was only 1PM. You figured you’d stay there for a while and let him sleep while you answered a couple of e-mails. After a couple of hours, Marshall was still sleeping soundly. You thought you might as well do some tidying up in the house, but as soon as you tried to move, you felt his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You smiled to yourself as you realized it was the first time you actually cuddled with him - and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. Your back was against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. This and the sensation of his arm around you were incredibly soothing and you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute.

(…)

Marshall groaned as you gently shook his shoulder to try and wake him up. He scrunched up his nose and let out a few obscenities. He looked pissed off as he opened his eyes.

What time is it ? He groaned.

About 7PM, you said.

You better have a good reason to wake me up, he sighed.

I think I do. You have clothes on your bed and ten minutes to get changed, ok ?

I’m not getting dressed, and I’m not going out, he said with an eye roll.

And I’m not giving you a choice, you said with a smile. Get up. Please. You won’t regret it.

You made your way downstairs and prepared a bottle of water and a snack for Marshall as you waited for him. When he arrived, he looked a bit puzzled. He was still clearly tired but he looked a lot better. You made him get in your car and drove to the cemetery. You had called ahead of time and asked if they would do you a favor and keep the place open for a couple more hours. You used the « Marshall Mathers » card, which always worked when it came to getting a table at a fancy restaurant, borrowing a private jet or keeping a store open when Marshall needed to shop for his daughters’ birthday.

What are we doing here ? He asked as you parked out front.

You know what we’re doing here, you said. It’s after hours and you get to pay your respects in peace.

You… You arranged for this ?

I did, you said. They’ll be open until 8:30PM. I’m sorry, I didn’t find a florist open, though.

He looked at you in shock and immediately engulfed you in a hug before whispering a « thank you » in your ear before getting out of the car. An hour later, you were leaning on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette when Marshall came back. He seemed more at peace. You could tell he had cried - as people often do when they’re visiting someone’s grave - but he seemed alright nonetheless. He walked up to you and took you by surprise by kissing you. Contrary to all the kisses you’d shared until now, this one wasn’t greedy, hungry or passionate. It was tender and soft. Intimate and emotional.

A-Are you alright ? You asked.

Yeah, he hummed. Thank you for taking me.

You’re welcome, you said with a smile.

Ready to go ? He asked.

Almost, you said as you pointed to your cigarette - knowing full well the hatred he had of your smoking habit.

The drive home was a bit weird. You had kissed before but this felt different. You had always enjoyed his kisses but this one was, by far, your favorite. You felt a little guilty for enjoying it so much. If you were honest with yourself, it was a little scary, too. The only reason you had managed not to catch feelings for Marshall was because he was usually guarded and there were a lot of boundaries. But after today, after seeing him this open and vulnerable, you weren’t too sure you could go back to having casual sex with him. It would be too dangerous.

Did you know Proof’s family would be there ? He asked as you parked in front of his place.

Were they ? You asked in surprise. No, I didn’t.

The cemetery must have called them, then, he shrugged.

I’m sorry, you said. I insisted that you have your privacy…

It’s fine, he said. I talked to Sharonda. Nasaan was here too.

How did it go ?

Pretty well, he said. I’m seeing them later this week. Over dinner.

That’s great, you replied with a smile. I’m happy for you.

Thank you Y/N, he said emotionally. For everything you always do for me. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to get through life without you. You put up with me, you make life bearable… And… Thank you for today, especially.

You’re welcome, you said with a small smile.

He cupped your face and kissed you again. You leaned into the kiss more than you should. A part of you knew that you should push him away… But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after he had such a hard day. So you kissed him back and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue caressing yours, of his fingers in your hair.

Now, you should go and get some rest, you said softly.

Are you coming ? He asked as he stroked your cheek.

Do you need me ?

Y/N… I always need you.

And just like that… You knew you were screwed. You felt an army of butterflies in your stomach and your brain was nowhere to be found. It had left the chat as soon as you heard Marshall’s soft voice say he needed you. You were unable to think so your emotions took over as you exited the car and got inside the house, his hand in yours.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine

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werezmastarbucks · 7 months ago

Text

stab the dick

masterlist

Chibs doesn't need to be lucky all the time, it's enough that he's lucky sometimes

word count: 1655

warnings: no remorse for killing stalkers. Everybody thank Ned for inspiring all the douchebags in all I ever write ever

You finally entered the roofed space of the garage seeking for the heat to cease, but it didn't. The first time here, you had no idea where to look for whom. Your brother was nowhere to be found. You enjoyed calling Jackson your brother, although never to his face, because you didn't know if he thought of you as much as that. But it was nice to have a family still, that you didn't resent.

The air smelt like gas and oil, the two smells you got used to from your childhood and never learnt to love. All the things you were indifferent to, surrounded you: the cars, and the parts of the cars, and bikes, and the parts of them, too. The only thing that attracted your attention was a lean frame of a Chevy at the end of the room, but you didn't have time to walk towards it.

"Hi", the voice called, and you recognized the guy loafing around at the bar with Jax the other day. One of the gangsters, the bikers, or whatever they called themselves. Now, without the distracting backdrop of the bar and the light going against his back from the windows, without the bottles and the army of similar black leather jackets, he appeared more human to you, more individual. Interesting face, in which you couldn't immediately discern particularly attractive features, and yet, something caught your eye. The two long, crooked scars, placing a permanent grin onto his cheeks. And they were strangely, twistedly a decoration to him.

He was maybe about your father's age; but youthful in the way he stood with his hip popped, rubbing some stereotypical metal part with a rug; his eyes were glimmering like you were finally the entertainment he'd been waiting for, the whole day.

"Jackie's sister", he called.

"Right. I was looking for him", you said, and clenched your fists together behind your back. The presence of this stranger made you more uncomfortable, him offering something with his eyes, that you were not currently ready for.

He sat down onto a bench quietly, dragging out the pause.

"He's not here today", he said finally.

"Oh", it was like more weight crashed on you, "do you... do you know where I can find him?"

The man raised his eyebrows a little, curious.

"Don't you have an 'I-phone' to call him?"

"I still don't have his number. He's been coming 'round almost every day so I never needed to search for him before".

"He's a good brother, eh?"

You nodded, rubbing your fists. Your upper arms ached.

"Okay, but do you have any idea..."

"I can help you".

"I'd prefer to talk about it with Jackson".

He nodded with understanding.

"Family business".

"Yeah".

You finally saw this futile, so was about to turn around, but he raised his hand, as if trying to calm you.

"Settle down, I'll call him, ask".

In the twist of a joke, he took out a new looking IPhone from his dark jeans, letting you steal a glance at him while busy.

"Jackie", he barked, delightfully Scottish. Against all your might, the corner of your mouth twitched. You haven't heard such thick, rich accents in a long while, and your mind was being soothed with something familiar.

He continued, watching your face, as if he was reading it,

"Your sistar is here, not too social, I think she wants to see ya".

He listened for a second, then handed you the phone. You turned around instinctively, unwillingly demonstrating him your one clenched fist, and the bruise around it.

"What is it Y/N?" Jax asked quietly.

"This idiot came to my house".

"Shit, I am so on the other side of town. Please tell me he's with you in garage so Chibs can knock his head off".

"No, he stayed there. And, listen, he told me he'd kill me, because he's been seeing me with you... I said, you fucking idiot, he's my brother. He didn't believe me. And so..."

"Hold on, don't hurry. Has he hurt you?"

"Yeah, he did, but listen, it doesn't matter".

"Doesn't matter? Why?"

"Cause I stabbed him. I don't know if he's still alive, I decided not to call the police".

Your voice cracked a little, and the fingers of your free hand stabbed into the palm. You could hear Chibs shift a little behind you, uneasy to look at him just yet.

"Stabbed, like hard? With a knife?

"Yeah".

Pause.

"You did the right thing", Jax said finally, "let Chibs take you. You can trust him. He'll take care of it".

You allowed yourself a gaze over your shoulder towards the attentive scarred face. Slightly upturned; he looked like he was studying you. Black eyes, really nice, straight nose. As if Jackson's words about him being trustworthy magically highlighted the features. The lazy, disinterested observation gave him the air of a boss of the premises.

"Okay".

You returned the phone to him, as he stood up, already more energetic at the sound of stabbing.

"We got a body?"

"Not sure. Maybe he's still alive, or already left".

He nodded assertively, moving his legs like a criminal.

"Show the way, miss".

He was patting his own back for showing restraint.

After serving you into the car with courtesy, he started the engine so smoothly, that when the pickup began moving, you swayed a little. Catching yourself on the dashboard, you managed to notice the quick, snaking movement of his hand, removing the knife in a knifeholder from under your nose.

"No more stabbing for today", he warned you, with a little bit more joy in his voice. You sighed, rubbing your sprained wrist.

"Nailed a dick ex-boyfriend?"

"Never was my boyfriend", you said, a little too quickly, out of indignation, "a stalker. I moved in here a month ago and got the nastiest surprise of my life".

"Ooh", he boomed, "then nothing to stress about".

"I am not stressing", you said, "I think I'm going numb".

"Your hands are shaking".

"Left here. The last house, light green".

"Aye, it's the house that has that little narrow road towards the lake, isn't it?" he inquired suddenly.

"Yeah. I go there all the time".

"Oh, that's a nice place", Chibs smiled. In the situation of cold shock, you focused on his humannes, to hold on to hope that he will, in fact, take care of it. On this side of the face, his scar cupped his cheek in a half-moon shape, emphasizing his dimple tenfold. That made the smile akin to the blade spark, on his tough, bearded face. A face like this was supposed to never smile again, because it gave out the hope.

You wondered how painful that was. Getting your face cut, more or less than getting stabbed in the stomach?

You thought of Ned's face as you finally ran the kitchen knife through his guts. Long overdue, if you ask. You had no hard feelings about it, it was more that your body was trying to decide which mode of panic to implement.

The car stopped by the driveway smoothly, and you took a couple of seconds to look at its quiet outside.

"How many times have you hit 'em?"

"I managed three".

"Good girl", he cooed mindlessly, getting out of the car.

You entered the house and listened. No sound, as opposed to the stuffed grumbling, bubbling and seething whispers that were filling the living room just thirty minutes ago. You led Chibs down the hall, him stepping behind you like a cat, and opened the door, but he lost interest in the room immediately. You noticed his eyes trailing something on the floor, leading towards the little window at the end of the hall. Ned must have managed to escape the room and then walked in the wrong direction, wrangled himself against the window into the backyard, and continued there.

The man obeyed the traces, and then with dexterity of a hare, jumped over the open window frame. You saw him walk across the yard, where Ned finished his way already close to the narrow path Chibs had mentioned.

Telford grabbed the guy's shoulder to turn him around and estimate the wounds, but suddenly Ned gasped for air and started moving.

"Still kickin'!" Chibs announced, and your heart started pounding; out of relief? Fear? As if he could again stand up and lash out on you.

"Do we take him into a hospital?" you asked.

"Do you want him dead or alive?"

'Dead' sounded so devious coming from his mouth.

"I don't wish death on him", you breathed. Chibs nodded.

"Then bring some bandaids, cloths, and alcohol if you have it".

You nodded and ran back into the depth of the house.

Chibs bent one knee to get closer to the guy. He looked half-dead.

"What did ya do to her?" he required, feeling nothing towards this miserable idiot.

"Help", he mouthed, his eyes iridescent with the brain impulses trying to keep him alive.

"Sorry", he bowed down to Ned, "don't think I can. You see, I'm trying to put my dick into her. Also, I'm a feminist, so I'm always on the lady's side. Isn't that how it works?"

He looked at Ned's hands. Huge guy, maybe Chibs' height, or taller. And Y/N's tiny little wrists, that he probably, what, shook, squeezed, while trying to intimidate her. Chibs had seen this many times, this abuse. Big piece of shit taking it out on a small girl. He felt nothing about this guy. Shame he was lasting so long, because he was still trying to wriggle, even if blood was running out. Chibs moved his head around, feeling her coming back soon, and made a strategic decision. He put his elbow on Ned's neck, pushed and twisted. Then, after about ten seconds, turned towards the open window,

"Y/N, my apologies. He's done".

#chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs imagine #chibs x reader

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yveshiver · 7 months ago

Text

Rafe Cameron - Late.

Lana Del Rey - Pretty When You Cry

The weekend was awful and you wanted to talk to someone that saturday night.

Not just someone, but him. Yet you know the rules that both of you have set: no texting, no calling, no meetings. No need to repeat the past mistakes, but you just know you can't keep yourself off him.

Today you need him, to feel yourself falling into his strong arms and feel as if nothing else exists in the world.

No wondering how you didn't crash to some random car on the road since your head was full of other matters. Your mind drove you to his new little place, the apartment he got on the Silence Road.

The phone showed the time 01:13, a bit too late for the friendly visit, and yet again, you are nowhere to be friends, not anymore.

You got out of the car, the nights were getting cold and you stood there thinkin it over and over again, "Am I ready to lose him one more time?". And then you made one step closer to the entrance door, one more and few more.

Two knocks at the door and no reply, you knocked again. "Yeah, it was fucking stupid I should just leave before anyone notices" and you start to stride back to the car breathless.

-No way. - He showed at the door in shorts only, topless and barefoot. His buzzcut was getting a little long, the goosebumps from the cold showed on the muscles all over the body and you noticed a little tattoo of a boat on the rib.

-I am sorry, I should have not come here. - Your tears started to show. - And you were asleep and it's late and we agreed not to ever.. do this.. again.. I'm… - You were lost of breath, the panic was getting you, it felt as if the ground beneath your feet was dissapearing and you were ready to fall.

-Hey, princess, I'm here, hey.. - He stepped closer to you.

-You can't go out like this, you'll catch a cold, it's very…

-Hey, it's ok, don't worry about me catching a cold, hey… - He was so close, he got your face into his hands trying to find the reason for this sudden appearance.

-Rafe, I'm sorry. - You couldn't look into his eyes. - I'm so sorry for being here, I know that we… - Tears were streaming down the face.

-It's ok, hey, look at me. Please, baby, look at me, I need to know what happened, you are safe with me, ok? It's ok, c'mhere. -

He held you in his arms as close as it was humanly possible. He placed your head onto his chest, his arms were cuddled to you. For the first time this day you felt safe, it was such a liberating feeling.

You stood there with your eyes closed knowing you can finally relax in his arms.

-Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby, ok? You are safe here, you know that. It's ok. I do wish you told me the reason of the tears tho. - He got your face into his hands once again, you always loved when he did that.

-I feel so helpless, I know I can't bother you with my things.

-Hey, your things are my things, I got you. - He put your strands of hair behind your ears, his fingers brushed through you hair as you tilted you head to his hand.

You looked straight into his eyes, the striking blueness of them always swept you away. The colour of the sea, the colour of the sky, the colour of everything that gave you hope and comfort.

Now they shined brighter in the night. You wanted the moment to last forever, but you knew you only had this night. You got out of his arms, took the breath of fresh air. He noticed you getting away and looked so worried.

-Hey, why don't you come inside and tell me everyhing, huh? - You felt as if he didn't want you to go away.

-Rafe, do you think it's a good idea?

-Sure. - He tried to seem unbothered, putting his hands into the pockets of the shorts. - Why not, and it is really chilly outside. - He shugged the shoulders. You noticed the freckes on them, oh God how much you loved these freckles.

-Why not, I can't let you get cold because of me, right?

He started walking to the door checking if you were following. All you knew is how much you wanted this night to last forever, how much you wanted to feel him close to you, to look into his eyes, to have his hands holding you. You might not have another day with him, but at least you have tonight, right?

#rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks #fanfiction #yves writes

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thebunnybabyblog · 1 year ago

Note

either Severus or y/n having a bad day so the other smothers then with kisses 😩

I am so so so sorry this is so late. I kind of went a tiny bit manic and my life went a lil nuts 😋✨💕 oopsie am I right fellas lol anyway if there are mistakes plz ignore I re read it like 5 times but I always forget something lol

Summery: you have very bad day and Sev saves ya from lit crying in the rain. What a good man Sev 💕

Paring: reader and Severus Snape

Word count: 2017

Type: fluff

Your keys fumbled to the ground as they slipped from your wet hands and landed on the welcome mat below. The storm that had appeared out of nowhere as you walked home from the station had really been the icing on the terrible cake that was today. Every moment of the day had something about it that added to the meltdown meter overflowing in your head.

The morning was the start of your troubles as you awoke in a wild panic. Sometime during the early morning hours you woke to still see time on the clock and you accidentally turned off the alarm in your dazed state. When you awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the sun shining you actually felt pretty good but as your eyes looked over to the clock the blood ran from your face.

You ran through the house trying to speed run your morning routine but still managed to make it to work 30 minutes late. Huffing and puffing from the run from the station, you burst through the door crashing into a pile of boxes filled with already organized documents that needed to be sent out. You fell to the ground alongside a frenzy of flying papers. Which resulted in an unpleasant reprimand by your boss loud enough for others to hear.

By the time lunch rolled around, you realized in your panic, you had forgotten to grab your already packed lunch you had put together special the night before. With your last few dollars in your bag you made your way to the corner deli and bought yourself a sandwich.

You chose to eat back to your desk, to make up for the lost time in the morning. Never great at multitasking, you began to take your first bite but distracted by your work your sandwich missed your mouth and made its home on your white blouse below. You just looked down in disbelief. “Why, literally just why.” You thought to yourself. As if you weren’t already embarrassed enough now you had to walk around looking like you were just attacked.

Your day continued to be a shit show as everyone seemed like their lives were also turning to shit because everyone was just so on edge. There were multiple fires to put out and a stick up everyone’s ass. Especially the interns that were tasked with putting back the papers you had graciously destroyed this morning. You could feel their eyes on you most of the day as they were pretty pissed but to be honest you couldn’t blame them. You watched the time slowly tick by as if it was actually purgatory and you’d be stuck in this office for the rest of eternity.

The hum of the lights were making your head ache. The smell of spilled food on the blouse was making you nauseous. The way everyone’s noises were rubbing you the wrong way, every click of a pen, every cough in the distance, every bump to your work space. You were on the verge of a total meltdown. Your leg began to bounce and your fingers tapped hard against your desk. Sweat began to roll down your forehead as it seemed to get hotter and hotter by the second.

You quickly arose from your seat and made your way to the bathroom for a moment of peace. You peaked your head into the restroom and to your amazement you were met with an empty room. Slipping into a stall you sat down, even though you didn’t l have to go, you just needed to step away. The cool air flowed around the room and you took a deep breath to ground yourself.

You reached for your phone and stared down at the screen. Scrolling through your contacts and hovered over Severus' name. Unsure if you should text him, not wanting to bother him with your trivial little problems, you quickly click your phone shut and slip it back into your pocket, or so you thought. You stand again and you must have only half shoved it down because the next thing you know you are fishing your now soaked phone from the toilet below.

You just couldn’t believe your luck today. You were half tempted to believe that someone had put a hex out against you. You just couldn’t catch a break and when the downpour began out of nowhere on your way home you just wanted to lay down in the middle of the street and let Jesus take the wheel of someone's car and take you out of your misery.

The keys falling from your hands was really the last straw though. You were so close to finally escaping the hell that was your day and you just had to endure it that little second longer. One final kick to the ribs. The tears just started flowing and with big loud sobs you were sitting there on your steps in the pouring rain crying as if no one who passed by couldn’t see you.

You were interrupted when the front door opened and you saw Severus’ wide eyed looking down at you in utter confusion. Before he could even ask you what happened you said “I… everything has just gone wrong! I was late! Lunch!” You gesture down to the large stains on your chest as Severus quickly darts his eyes down and back up to you. “My phone?!? This fucking tsunami!! And the keys! The fucking keys!!” You cry out, head now in your hands, still sprawled out on the ground.

Without words Severus swoops you up off the steps and brings you inside and up the stairs to the bathroom. Your muffled cries vibrated into his chest. This wasn’t the first time Severus had seen you have a bit of a meltdown. He wasn’t shy of having his own meltdown here and there but yours were definitely more of emotional meltdowns.

When your relationship first got off the ground and the first time the world got a little overwhelming he wasn’t quite sure what to do but he’s a smart man. He observed your actions and what things could trigger big emotions and he tried his best to counteract those stressors but life wasn’t something you can control.

When he saw you soaking wet crying on the porch he knew it was time for operation atomic damage control. When things were at its peak and there was no simple pat on the back “everything will be ok” pep talk that would fix this. He made his way with you to the bathroom and sat you down on the counter for a moment.

He opened up the curtain and began to fill the bathtub. Not forgetting to add a few pumps of your favorite bubble bath scent. He left the room and came back with a potion of silverish blue liquid. Making his way back to you he places his large palm on one side of your face and peppered your forehead in soft kisses. “I’m sorry your day was sour, my love. I think this should help relieve some stress” He whispers softly down to you.

You still have tears falling but with the kisses you are now quiet in his hands trying to savor his warm touch. You let him place the vial to your lips not even questioning what the liquid even was. “Do you need some alone time? I want to join you but if you need space I understand.” He asks softly in between kisses. Severus is the only person who you want around during these moments of sadness.

He was the strong quiet type through and through. He made you feel safe and loved even if you hadn’t even spoken. Just his presence was enough. You shook your head yes between his palms and he smiled down to you. using his thumbs he gently wiped the remaining tears from your eyes and kissed your head once more before turning his attention back to the bath.

The air was thick with steam and the smell of the bubble bath calms you down. Severus reached down to you and helped relieve you from your soiled wet clothes. Sometimes you needed to be babied a bit and this was one of those moments. He was so gentle as he slipped you off the counter and into the warm soapy water in the awaiting claw foot tub across the room.

Letting out a deep sigh as your cold skin met with the warm water, finally able to begin washing away the worries of the day. Severus moved to retrieve a low stool to sit on and sat it beside you. “Is the water the correct temperature?” He asked down to you. “Mmm yes it’s perfect.” You replied, sinking down further into the bubbles.

He chuckled as he watched you melt away in the soapy water below. His hand slipped over yours as it rested on the side gripping the cool porcelain. His large hand enveloped yours and gently rubbed into your tired skin. The world seemed to begin to melt away and your body became fuzzy and light. “Sev what did you give me?” You asked softly with eyes still closed.

“I knew you never paid attention in class.” He chuckled deeply “it’s The Draught of Peace, you learn it in fifth year but it is a pretty difficult potion to brew.” You could only hum in response as the potion was taking full effect by now. Your once tense limbs were loose and the headache that had formed from your fits of crying had now disappeared.

The added stimulation of the steaming water and soft kisses Severus was planting down on the back of your hand were making your body tingle. It felt so good just to be able to forget about your troubles for a moment. To be completely taken care of by Severus in your moment of need.

You relaxed in the tub for a while letting the warm water turn your body into a prune. After a bit of letting you decompress Severus reached for your bottle of shampoo and gently motioned for you to raise up. The cool gel sent a shiver down your back when he began to massage it into your scalp.

He watched you push your head back into his lathered touch, eyes closed savoring the pampering he wasn’t completely accustomed to showing. He smiled down at you, savoring the view of you pushing yourself to be closer to him.

He would never say this out loud but it was almost as if he could feel the love flowing between the two of you. Right from his fingertips and into you and back around again. He crumpled at the fact that after the mess of a day you had you found solace within him.

You felt comfort and safety in his presence. No matter the horrors of the work day you knew you could come home and fall into his arms and he would help you. Of course you would do the same with him but he wasn’t too accustomed to falling into anyone’s arms willingly (lol), but, you knew if he ever needed it you’d be right there for him.

He washed and conditioned your hair and helped you wash your back when the time came. He was there ready with a soft and warm towel that he had heated up with a flick of his wand. He wrapped you up tightly and made your way into the bedroom to get your coziest pjs, which was just one of his shirts.

While you changed you heard a knock at the door and an exchange between Sev and someone else. By the time you made it down to the living room, in need of a good trash tv show to binge, you noticed piles of Chinese takeaways spread out on the coffee table. “Sev you are one beautiful man you know that right?” You said looking over to him. “Well I do try my best” he said with a laugh

You slithered your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He instantly met your forehead once more are planted kisses down on it. You smiled feeling his lips against your skin. “Thank you for the kisses.” You cooed up to him. “Always my absolute pleasure, my love.”

#severus snape #pro snape #fanfic #slytherin #fluff #severus snape x reader

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