#i just wanted to stand there and look at her because i knew she wasn’t supposed to be there and i wanted to enjoy however long i had

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

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Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[puari-vol]

Peer Pressure

CW: Hypnosis

I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the ‘slumber party’ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was here…I couldn’t bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all… fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didn’t matter if I had fun or not. 

I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped

“Did you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!” 

She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.

The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasn’t playing anymore, or maybe…this was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldn’t remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking at…

I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me. 

“Hey there” she said softly “First time here?”

I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.

“Kelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?”

I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral

“Well Kelsy has good taste, you’ll be lovely”

I blush, not expecting the compliment

“Um thanks” I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now

“Are you ready?”

“Uh…for what?”

“To learn about the button that turns off your brain” 

I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement

“The what?”

She giggled and pointed off to my left 

“Just watch, you’ll get the idea”

I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch

“You see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brain” 

I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch

“But…but I’m not-”

“Shhhhh”

I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly

“Don’t worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soon”

Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.

“Isn’t she pretty?” 

She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?”

She made me nod again

“Don’t you want to look like that?”

I nodded, I wasn’t sure if she made me or not

She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger

“W-wait”

“Nighty night”

She tapped me on the forehead

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: TW this post contains a homophobic slur.

Transcript under the cut

Professor Munch: Everyone, this is Nancy. She’s one of my favorite students. I am so glad she can join us this evening to observe our weekly GSA meeting.

Nancy: And what is a GSA?

Morgan: It stands for Gay–Straight Alliance. It’s just a safe space for queer kids to hang out and talk about real world issues.

Knox: Yeah, we go out and do stuff off campus. It’s pretty tight.

Nancy: Queer? So...this is a club for homosexuals?

Darling: [sucks teeth]

Knox: [chuckles nervously] I mean, sure I guess? Me and Morgan are bisexual. That means we dig the fellas and the ladies, heh.

Professor Munch: What’s important is that this space is for everyone, from all walks of life. We support each other here, no matter who you love. We keep each other safe. That’s why I invited you to sit in on our session. I figured you could use a friend or two-

Nancy: Ugh! Oh my God? You think I’m- I’m not like that, ok!?

Nancy: I am not a homosexual! What the hell made you think I’d want to be apart of something like this?

Professor Munch: No, dear- I’m not implying you’re like anything! This club welcomes all people. I thought you could use the support. Why, your brother started the very first GSA at this school-

Nancy: Oh, don’t you fucking dare! My brother wasn’t some depraved pervert and I’m not a d****!

Darling: [jumps up, chair scrapes hardwood floor] What the fuck did you just say? You can’t come up in calling people that shit!

Nancy: I-I didn’t! All I’m saying is that I’m not like that! I’m not like you-

Darling: Not like who? Not like a d?****?

Darling: What the fuck is your problem? Munch, who is this bitch?

Professor Munch: Easy, Dee. Calm down-

Darling: Don’t fucking tell me to calm down! You let some straight white girl walk in here and say something we heard screamed at us our whole fucking life! Say it again! I dare you!

Professor Munch: That’s enough! Please! Let me handle this.

Nancy: [between sobs] M’sorry...m’so sorry...

Professor Munch: [sighs] Just, take some time to think about this, Nancy. Look inward.

Nancy Narrates: [Look inward] x3

Nancy: If it’s ok...I’d like to apologize.

Professor Munch: Everyone? Is it alright if Nancy speaks?

Morgan: I don’t mind.

Darling: [sighs] Whatever man.

Nancy: [exhales] When I first heard that word, I was 11 years old. My mother found letters I wrote to my pen pal. She mailed a photo of herself from her birthday party, she wore this really pretty yellow dress with little blue flowers on them.

Nancy: Yellow is my favorite color, so I said she was as pretty as a sunflower. My mother tore up the letter and made me rewrite it. She looked me right in the eyes and said, ‘do you want someone to read this and think you’re a-’

Nancy: She said it again when was 14, a girl from my ballet troupe was only brushing my hair. She pulled me from the class. She said it again two years ago, when she found out that I fell in love with-

Nancy: I know that word hurts because it’s been said to hurt me even though I’m not... It doesn’t matter if I’m not, I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to do. I am so incredibly sorry.

Professor Munch: Thank you for sharing your story. This is what GSA is about. Coming together, creating a community, and creating safe spaces. Dee, is there anything you want to say to Nancy? Anything you’d like to speak on or about how you feel?

Darling: Nah...

Nancy Narrates: [I knew that an apology alone wouldn't suffice to mend the situation. When it came to friendships, I didn’t know how to genuinely make amends, but as a Landgraab, I knew that I could leverage my wealth and status to create a meaningful impact]

Morgan: You got us the biggest hall on campus?! Nancy, this is sick as fuck!

Professor Munch: [laughs] I’ll have to agree with Morgan for lack of a better word. This is sick as heck! I don’t know where to begin to thank you for this gift.

Nancy: It’s the least I could do. Now you can stop meeting in that tiny corner in the commons.

Darling: Charity work for your little sorority, huh? What’s with you, yo?

Nancy: What do you mean?

Darling: You’re so rich, you just buy your way through shit?

Nancy: It’s how I was raised.

Darling: I can’t figure you out.

Nancy: I promise, I’m not a bad person.

Darling: We’re not like everyone else on campus. We’ll show you something real. You gotta be real with us too.

Nancy Narrates: [I found myself wanting to do exactly that—to show them the real me, whoever she was]

Siobhan: I’m planning a party for the Thetas Friday night. Perfect opportunity for you to bond with your sisters.

Nancy: I’m a little busy Friday night...maybe next time?

Siobhan: Being apart of a sorority is more than just the cute merch and bragging rights. We’re involved with the community and with this campus. As a pledge, I do expect you to commit to these things.

Nancy: I know and I will. I just need to take care of something.

Siobhan: [sighs] Don’t let me down, sister.

[the group murmurs excitedly]

Professor Munch: You did all this, Nancy?

Nancy: I hope it’s ok I’m here. I figured you could break in your new room with a movie night. Everything is already taken care of, and I bought a ton of movies ranging from comedy to horror and everything in between. They’re all yours to keep! Same with the popcorn machine. I know I’m using money again to impress you but... I guess I’m still trying to figure out what it means to be real. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it all.

Morgan: Yeah, not so fast. Stick around, watch a movie with us!

Nancy: Are you sure?

Knox: Of course we’re sure, squirt.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Crash Course

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Word count: 798

Pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: As Y/n recovers from her injuries, an unexpected visit from Lando leads to a heartfelt confession, shifting their relationship from fierce rivalry to the possibility of something more

______________________________________________________________

Y/n lay on the medical bed, her side wrapped in gauze, the sharp sting of the injury finally dulled by painkillers. The medical team had assured her it wasn’t anything too serious—just a few cracked ribs and a deep cut from the impact. She'd be back in the car soon enough. But as she stared up at the ceiling, her mind wasn’t on the injury.

It was on Lando.

The way he had looked at her, the worry in his eyes, the unexpected softness in his voice—it all played on repeat in her head. She had spent months thinking of him as nothing more than a rival, someone she needed to beat, someone who annoyed her with his smug attitude and relentless determination. But now, the walls between them seemed to have crumbled in a matter of moments.

The door to the room creaked open, and Y/n instinctively tensed, expecting a doctor. Instead, Lando slipped in, quiet and cautious. His usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by an expression she barely recognized—concern, maybe even something more.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low as he moved to stand beside her bed.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to play off the awkwardness that had settled between them. “I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse.”

Lando’s lips twitched upward in a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked down at her for a long moment, like he was wrestling with something, then pulled up a chair, sitting beside her bed.

“Listen, Y/n… about earlier—” he began, but Y/n cut him off, shifting slightly to sit up straighter despite the protest from her ribs.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” she said quickly. “We both screwed up. I was pushing too hard. We crashed. End of story.”

“It’s not just about the crash,” Lando said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His voice was steady, but his eyes flicked nervously to hers. “I was angry, sure, but… when you nearly collapsed like that—” He hesitated, his gaze softening. “It scared me. More than I thought it would.”

Y/n stared at him, her chest tightening—not from the pain, but from the weight of his words. This was the Lando she had never seen, the one behind the constant rivalry and playful arrogance.

“I didn’t realize I was hurt,” she admitted quietly. “The adrenaline… I just wanted to get to you and tell you off.” She tried to laugh, but it came out weak and half-hearted.

Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah, I figured. You always have something to say.”

She looked down, avoiding his eyes for a moment. “You said you don’t hate me,” she whispered. “But… all we’ve ever done is fight.”

Lando let out a slow breath, leaning back in the chair, his gaze never leaving her face. “That’s because I didn’t know how else to deal with it. With you. I wanted to win, to prove I could beat you, but… I also didn’t want to admit how much I admired you.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. “Admired me?”

Lando shrugged, his expression softening. “You’re fierce, Y/n. You fight for every inch on track. You don’t back down, not from anyone—not even me. It drove me crazy because, deep down, I knew I liked it. Liked you.”

For a moment, the room fell into silence, the weight of his confession settling between them. Y/n searched his face, trying to find any hint of mockery, but all she saw was honesty. It was disarming.

“I’ve been so focused on beating you,” Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped to think about anything else.”

Lando leaned closer, his voice soft but intense. “Maybe we should start thinking about something else.”

Y/n’s gaze flicked up to meet his, and in that instant, the tension between them shifted. It was no longer fueled by competition or rivalry, but by something deeper, something that had been building beneath the surface for far longer than either of them had realized.

Before she could say anything, the door creaked open again, and a nurse stepped in, breaking the moment.

“I’m sorry, but we need to check on the patient,” the nurse said kindly, though her presence felt like a bucket of cold water over the moment.

Lando stood, nodding to the nurse before turning back to Y/n. “I’ll… I’ll check on you later,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on hers for just a moment longer than necessary.

Y/n nodded, watching as he left the room. As the door closed behind him, she sank back into the bed, her mind reeling from everything that had just happened.

Her rival. Her competitor. And now… maybe something more.

[yelenasdiary]

Hi how about an enemy to lovers with Yelena were in their last mission they somehow get handcuffed to each other and until the team can get them off they are off duty and having to deal with eachother (their feelings)

Cuffin' Season

Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader

Summary: You and Yelena find yourselves in a situation neither of you want to be in

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Language Warning | 1.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this! Sorry it took so long; please ignore the cringe title lmao! I hope you enjoy it! x

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You groaned, throwing your head back against the wall. Yelena sighed heavily, for the last 20 minutes or so, the two of you have been trying to escape a from each other. Yelena still trying to wrap her head around how on earth the target tricked you both and was able to keep you both hostage, not the classic tried to a chair with duct tape across your lips. No, this was the worst kind of being kept hostage. 

“Stop tugging!” Yelena said, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, does that hurt? Is being tugged by the fucking wrist hurt the tough Russian spy?” You snapped in frustration. “You know, if it wasn’t for Natasha needing Kate, she’d be the one hand cuffed to you and I wouldn’t be sitting here wishing THEY WOULD KILL ME ALREADY!” You added, yelling out to your kidnappers. 

“They’re not going to kill us” Yelena said. 

“I wish they would!” 

“Alright, what the hell is your problem?” Yelena snapped, looking to you. “What do you mean? You’re the one with the problem” you argued. 

Yelena cocked a brow, “you think I’m the one with the problem? You’ve never liked me; you can’t even stand to be in the same room with me” she replied watching you try to squeeze your hand out of the handcuff. “Nope, that’s all you, spy! I’ve never been nothing by nice to you, but I guess you’re too high and mighty to see that and now thanks to you, we’re trapped and I’m probably going to die handcuffed to you”

“Thanks to me?” Yelena frowned, “do you hear yourself right now? You’re the one the fell for the damn trap. I followed you to stop you, don’t you remember that? Probably not because you can’t do any wrong!” She added causing you to stop your actions and look at her with anger in your eyes. 

“You want to do this now? Right now? Instead of trying to escape you want to play the damn blame game?!” 

“If the shoe fits, why not” Yelena spat. 

“Agh! You’re so unbearable! I can’t believe you think this is my fault! You’re the one who told me to go ahead, it’s like you knew this was going to happen” you argued. 

“I was talking to Kate! I had to wait for you to shut your pipe hole for a second so she could finish her sentence, I said “go ahead, Kate” Yelena corrected you, your mind having a small flash back to that moment. You were so annoyed that you had been paired with the one person who hated you the most that you when you heard her say ‘go ahead’ you took it as her giving you instructions. 

Silence fell, you rolled your eyes once more at the blonde before trying yet another pointless attempt to set yourself free. “Seriously, stop tugging!” Yelena tugged her left wrist, pulling your right wrist to her. 

“Ouch!” You groaned at the pain, before tugging back. Yelena took a deep breath to keep herself from exploding over your childlike behavior, the two of you hated being cuffed together, if anything, this was the most that the two of you had ever spoken to one another. When you first met Yelena, she gave you a similar vibe that Natasha did when you first met her, so you just assumed it would be a little bit of work to break the widow and the two of you would get along after but no, not Yelena. You’ve been on two other missions with her in the past, both missions went quick and rather smoothly but again, such little conversation was ever exchanged between you both. 

Outside of work, Yelena simply made it obvious to you that she wasn’t a fan of you. So naturally, you stopped trying to win the assassin over and found yourself giving her the same cold vibe she would give you. It made things harder given that you were both great friends of Kate’s and the poor archer hated seeing her two closest friends hating one another. But what you didn’t know was the little secret that Yelena had let slip to Kate one night after a few too many shots of Vodka. 

As time passed, you and Yelena sat in silence. Both of you quietly tried to work out a plan to get out of the situation you were in but neither of you wanted to bring your ideas to the table first. “If we work together, we can get out of here” Yelena says with a light sigh, breaking the silence. 

“What do you think I’ve tried to do this entire mission?” You replied, not trying to snap back at her but her comment slightly annoyed you. “You just hate working with me” you added. 

Yelena looked over at you, “how about once we get out of here, we never have to work together again” she says in a calm tone. 

“Perfect! Can’t wait” you gave her a fake smile before her eyes quickly turned to the banging sound of guns outside the door. The two of you instantly went into fight or flight, just waiting for whatever was going to happen come through that door. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Natasha standing in the doorway with a cocked brow, Kate standing slightly behind her. “Well, don’t you two look cozy” Nat commented, earning herself a death stare from her sister. “Have you got the keys?” You asked, ignoring the comment from the older widow. 

“I’ll go find them” you heard Kate say before rushing off. Natasha stood still with a growing smirk as she looked at the two of you, “which one of you wants to tell me how this happened?” She asked before letting out a chuckle. 

“Shut up!” Yelena spat. 

----

Back at the compound, free from being cuffed to Yelena, you just sat down on the edge of your bed, letting out a heavy sigh as you rubbed the handcuff markings on your wrist. Your mind replaying everything that had happened on the mission, trying to work out if you were the one that put you and Yelena in that situation or if it was just a case of bad lucky. Did you the two of you let your hatred for one another get in the way of a mission or was it something much more than that? These thoughts circled your mind until you heard a knock at your bedroom door. 

You opened it only to see Yelena standing there, “can I help you?” You asked kindly although Yelena was the last person you wanted to see right now. 

“Can I come in?” She asked taking you by surprise. You nodded and opened the door wider for her to enter. She walked in and noticed the little things about your room layout, where your perfume sat on a shelf, how neatly your close were hanging in your opened closet, your favorite movie as a poster on one of the walls, all these little things she smiled softly to herself about. 

“If you’re come to give me a lecture about the mission, I won’t want to hear it” you said as you wandered over to your dresser to apply some cream to your hands and wrists. Yelena turned around to face you, “I didn’t come here to lecture you. I came here to tell you that I don’t hate you” she replied. You frowned slightly as you looked back at her, “you don’t?” You questioned. 

Yelena shook her head, “I’ve never hated you” 

“T-then why you act like you do?” 

Yelena took a deep breath and took a seat at the end of your bed, placing her hands in her lap before she looked up at you once more. “I told Kate what happened today, and she said it would be best if I just come clean to you” she started. 

“Clean to me?” You questioned. 

“I don’t hate you, in fact, it’s the opposite to hate” 

Her reply only added to your confusion, “so you what? Dislike me? Or is it you can tolerate me?” You asked. It was your words that quickly told Yelena that this wasn’t going how she thought it would and quickly tried to fix it before this would escalate into yet another argument. 

“Try, I have feelings for you” she replied, her eyes slightly dropping to your feet. Her confession took you back, not once did you ever think that Yelena’s behavior towards you was because she had possible feelings for you. “I know it’s probably not what you expected but putting Kate’s advice aside for a moment, after today and the way we talked to one another wasn’t okay. I didn’t know that’s how you felt until today. I didn’t think that I was giving you the impression that I hated you” she paused as you slowly rubbed the cream into your skin while listening to her continue. 

“I’ve never looked at somebody and have my heart skip a beat, I’ve never heard somebody talk to me and wish they would never stop, I’ve never had somebody smile at me and that make me nervous. I guess I was so cold to you because I didn’t know how to be around you so I guess I thought that if I was distant with you that I wouldn’t feel these things, but I spoke to Kate and she told me that what I feel is okay” she went on. 

You wandered over to her and sat beside her, “well, I can say I’m so glad that you came to me. I thought I was going mad” you looked to her, “you’re not the only one who has feelings in this” you added.

Yelena’s eyes lit up, “do you mean y-“ 

You nodded before she could finish her question, “I don’t like the saying ‘if they’re mean to you it’s because they like you’ but I guess it has some kind of truth” you added, making you both chuckle. Gently, you took Yelena’s left hand into yours, “we don’t have to act on these feelings if you don’t want too or not ready, I don’t ever want to push you” you assured her. 

“Being handcuffed to you has been the highlight of my week, I would like to explore these feelings more, but it needs to be slowly” Yelena replies. You couldn’t help but smile softly at her, “we have all the time in the world, there is no need to rush anything”

You noticed Yelena blush a little at your words and you swore, if you could, you’d kiss her right then and there but you wanted this to work and right now, you were finally able to see a side of Yelena you wish you saw sooner.

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[hellodropbear]

17520 hours.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter (ish)

angst. part of the 'it's time.' series

mapi struggles on the two year anniversary of her best friend's death. Ingrid is right there to help her but she doesn't know how to let her in.

this is a lot more angst than i'm used to posting but i hope you like it.

it was hard to write and partially based on personal experiences so i apologise if it's not very good.

also decided to put it all in one part because i couldn't find a good place to split it!

i hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~

Two years is a long time. 

Two years is 104 weeks, two years is 730 days. Two birthdays, two christmases, two easters. Two summers and two winters, two new years and two anniversaries. 

Two years is a long time to miss someone. It should be enough time to have moved on. 

But when their daughter is in your care, that seems almost impossible. 

It was everyday that Mapi thought about her best friend, sometimes looking at her daughter and only seeing his eyes staring right back at her. 

The day was one that the Spaniard dreaded, the days becoming quicker and quicker in the lead up, the night before slowing right down as she crawled into bed, tossing and turning as she tried to sleep. 

Isabel was almost two. Still too young to understand that there was anything out of the ordinary in her life, anything that raised any questions. Even if Mapi tried explaining, she was sure that her daughter wouldn’t have the first idea what anything meant. 

She wouldn’t understand that Mapi wasn’t supposed to have her even though she gave birth. She wouldn’t understand that her parents had died because her Mami was right there in front of her. 

It was just a part of parenthood that Mapi had no idea how to conquer. She knew everything else, having spent hours and hours with her head buried in countless baby books, countless books that discussed grief and sadness in children. 

But Isabel wasn’t sad, she wasn’t grieving because she never knew Luis or Isabel. 

There were no books about how to tell a kid about her dead parents. It was a taboo topic, of sorts, one that many stand-in parents were reluctant to discuss with their child, hoping that they would just believe that they were their real parents. It was a bridge most people decided to cross when they had to, not at any point earlier than completely necessary. 

Mapi didn’t want that, she wanted her daughter to know who Luis was, who Isabel was. 

She just didn’t know when or how she should introduce the idea of them. 

But the second anniversary of their death left Mapi in a numb state, entirely torn up on the inside as she tried to decide whether she would take her daughter with her on her annual graveyard visit. It was Mapi’s time to chat to Luis alone, no interruptions, no distractions. 

Because while Isabel lost her parents, Mapi lost her lifelong best friend. 

She lost Luis, who meant everything and more to her. Luis who had moved to Barcelona a few months after her, Luis who watched every single one of her games, the first person to text her after a hard loss or an impressive win. 

She still hadn’t got out of the habit of checking her phone after a match, pain settling deep in her chest as her screen remained bare, his notification forever absent. 

It wasn’t a question of where she would be on the second anniversary. She knew exactly where she would be sat and exactly how she would feel as she stared at that obnoxiously large gravestone, big bold carvings of his name, his date of birth and date of death. 

‘Loving husband, son and friend.’ it read. Not father. ‘A man who lit up the lives of everyone he met.’ It was an understatement, Mapi had thought.

She had spent hours there when Isabel was a newborn, cradling her tiny body in her arms as she sat and silently stared at those few words. Loneliness ate her up, wishing for nothing other than her best friend. 

But her daughter had lit up her world as everything else was crumbling down, single handedly keeping the two of them afloat as Mapi grew tired, the sheer weight of her emotions almost drowning them. 

Isabel was an infant, too young to know anything was different. She was completely enraptured by her mother, smiling and laughing everyday they spent together in their small and stuffy apartment, completely unaware of the anguish that her mother was going through. 

It seemed fitting on the second anniversary of their death, only a couple months before her second birthday that Isabel would finally visit their gravestones. 

Even the thought of the graveyard made her feel uncomfortable, Mapi’s skin crawling at the thought of her best friend beneath her, cold and still. Someone she loved, such a warm and constant presence in her life, lying right there in the ground. 

It made her feel sick. Sick with anger because he was gone too soon. With grief because she never got to say goodbye. With guilt because she got to have the one thing he had always wanted. But mostly sick with the heartbreaking realisation that he was down there, in the flesh. 

Luis was dead. 

~~~~~~

It wasn’t a cold day, but she shivered as she stepped out of the car, the cool breeze prickling her skin as she unclipped a groggy Isabel from the back seat. 

“Where are we, Mami?” 

She looked around at her unfamiliar surroundings in confusion, probably expecting to have woken up in her bed. 

Mapi just hugged her, not trusting her voice to not break if she tried to respond. 

Despite only visiting twice before, the graveyard was familiar, she knew exactly how to get to Luis’ plot. She walked with purpose, not looking at the grave as she laid down the rug, only facing her best friend’s name once she was sat down. 

“This is your Papi, Is.”

Saying it out loud, her daughter in her arms. His daughter in her arms. It felt unusual, it felt uncomfortable. She could feel Isabel looking up at her, the confusion that radiated from the toddler’s body. 

She loosened her arms as Isabel wriggled herself free, waddling towards the stone and placing her hand on it. 

“Papi?”

She looked back at Mapi, a question in her eyes. She was met with tears slipping down her Mami’s face. 

“Mami.”

In an instant, she was back in Mapi’s arms, reaching up and wiping away the tears. 

“No sad, Mami. Brave like lion.”

Mapi nodded, a watery chuckle falling from her mouth. 

“I’m going to talk to your Papi, Is. Is that ok?”

Isabel nodded, settling herself on the rug with her lion toy as Mapi stood up, walking closer to the stone and placing her hand on his name, crouching down so it was at eye level. 

“Meet your daughter, Lu. She has your eyes, you know. She’s funny and smart and entirely the light of my life. I love her so much. More than I ever loved you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, really. I promise. I promise I’ve tried my best and I hope you’re proud of her. I hope you’re proud of me.”

She bit her lip, unsuccessfully biting back her own tears. 

“It’s been two years, Lu. I don’t know how I have made it through two whole years without you, really. It’s been so… hard. I still expect to see you, to hear from you. Sometimes I think I do, only to realise that it’s not possible. Because you’re dead. You weren’t supposed to die, not so soon. You were supposed to watch your daughter grow, I was supposed to be her really cool aunt that she would go to when you argued, to give her that tattoo when you said no. ”

She let out a strangled chuckle, trying to alleviate some of the pain she felt. They had discussed Mapi’s relationship with the child at length, knowing that the centre back would love the child as her own because she was always with Luis, she would always be around the couple as they raised their child. That wouldn’t have changed if she wasn’t biologically Mapi’s. 

Back then, Mapi had thought she would have been fine with the situation. She knew the baby wasn’t really hers, she knew that she would still be able to watch the baby grow up, that she would still be able to love her. 

It wasn’t a problem that had actually materialised, but they hadn’t expected both Isabel and Luis to die right before she was born. 

“Now I have to discipline her, Luis, which is the one thing I didn’t want to have to do. But she’s such a good girl, she is so intelligent. Like you, really. She knows how I feel all the time, she definitely inherited your emotional intelligence. She loves everyone too, just like you. I was never supposed to be a mother, was I? You were always the paternal one out of the two of us, you were the one who deserved a child. But I am the one that got her.”

She swallows roughly, biting her lip. 

“Oh Luis, you would have loved her so much.”

Very quickly, she is overcome by her tears, collapsing down into herself in sobs. 

It’s all too much, it’s all too hard. 

It’s unfair that her best friend left her, that she was left alone to grow up. Growing up was something they had discussed at length when they were younger. Obviously they were never going to be married, they’d never live together. 

They had dreamt of adjoining houses, doors that connected their backyards. They were going to grow up together, the two of them. Luis would have his wife and a gaggle of kids, Mapi would have her wife and a pack of cats. They’d have their own families but their lives would be so closely connected because they loved each other in the purest way possible. 

A childhood connection, one that grew and grew into adulthood. 

One that was supposed to last a lifetime. 

It did last a lifetime, it lasted Luis’ lifetime. Just not Mapi’s. 

She calmed herself down after a couple minutes, Isabel unsurprisingly noticing her mother’s sadness and crawling into her arms as a source of comfort. 

They sat there for hours, an easy silence settling upon the pair. Mapi was deep in thought, Isabel knew it wasn’t the time for play, it wasn’t the time for her mindless babbling. 

It had been a couple hours when she heard the footsteps, people approaching silently. 

She hadn’t expected to see anyone there, but upon reflection she realised she had been naive - it was the anniversary after all. 

“Maria?”

She hadn’t heard Ane’s voice in two years. The last conversation they had was full of empty promises, of visits to Zaragoza that Mapi knew she would not go on. Promises that they would get to know the child that was growing in Mapi’s stomach, promises that they wouldn’t lose touch. 

They had lost touch, Mapi unable to visit Luis’ home whenever she returned to her parents. Ane and Mikel were in too much pain to see the child, not sure how they could face it. 

“Ane.” She stood up, facing the older woman and allowing herself to be enveloped in her arms. 

“It’s so good to see you, Maria.”

Mapi could only nod, her eyes still watery and her face still red. It had been a long morning. 

She turned to face Mikel, who was staring straight forward, his eyes only softening as Mapi grabbed his hand and kissed it. 

“I have missed you both.” She smiled softly. It was a sad smile, but a real one. 

They were Luis’ parents, of course, but they were her pseudo parents whenever she needed them. They were so close, especially when Mapi and Luis were in their teenage years. 

“Is this… is that her?”

Ane looked down at the curly headed girl, her eyes softening as she watched her play with her toys. 

“Isabel Luisa.” Mapi nodded. “I thought today would be a good day for her to come visit.”

The older woman looked down at the child adoringly, smiling as she looked up at the unfamiliar adults. 

It was a bit awkward for a few moments, as Mapi, Mikel and Ane sat in an uncomfortable silence. 

Mapi excused herself, moving away to the bathrooms but leaving her belongings by the grave. She knew she wanted to talk to them, that they wanted to talk to her. 

She also knew they needed some time alone before they would be able to. 

But she did return, sitting down on her rug right beside the older couple. 

And Ane spoke, her voice soft, her voice sad. 

She told Mapi how grateful she is, how glad she is that she took Isabel in, that she didn’t even question it. How grateful she is that Mapi did everything to make her son happy all throughout his life, from buying him an extra chocolate bar when they were children to carrying his baby for him when he and his wife were unable to do it. 

Ane told her that she had given him his one dream, fatherhood. It was just unlucky that he wasn’t alive to live it. 

There were tears in her eyes as she told her how grateful Luis would be. How much he loved her. How happy he would be that his daughter ended up with the Spaniard, the person he probably trusted the most in the world. 

Mapi nodded her appreciation, sitting with the two adults for a while longer before Isabel grew tired, the sun falling down, the afternoon turning into evening. 

She said a tearful goodbye, collecting her things and standing, Mikel standing up as well and walking her to her car. 

“She looks just like him.” His words were soft, softer than Mapi had ever heard him. “I have thought about you every day, Maria. You and her. I am so relieved to see you here because I worried so much about you. I worried that you wouldn’t be ok, that you’d not be able to raise her. Not because I doubted you, but because I know how hard it is to lose people.”

Mapi nodded softly, looking up at the man. 

“I don’t doubt that you have had a hard time, but I also don’t doubt that you’re a good Mami. A great Mami to this little girl.”

“Thanks, Mikel.”

He nodded, that was all he needed to say. 

It was all he needed to say for Mapi to tear up again, picking Isabel up and holding her in his space. He looked at the Spaniard, who nodded, before placing a soft kiss on her head. 

“Come visit, Maria. When you come home. Bring the little one too.”

Mapi nodded, a smile on her face. 

This time, it wasn’t an empty promise. 

~~~~~~

She got home to an empty apartment. Quiet, dark. She could have texted Ingrid, the Norwegian likely would have come over in an instant, her warm arms right there for endless comfort. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to open her phone, couldn’t bring herself to stand up and walk over to the kitchen table where it was sitting. Instead, she stayed seated, relaxed back on the sofa with tears tracking down her face as she stared blankly at the wall. 

It wasn’t often that she was left alone with her thoughts. Not when she had a chatty toddler to look after, a loving girlfriend who spent every day trying to make Mapi happy. It worked, because Ingrid did make her happy, happier than she’d ever been. 

And Isabel also made her happy, she was the best thing in the Spaniard’s life. 

So why did she feel so sad? Why was Luis’ death still so hard for her to process?

Two years felt like too long to still be so upset about it all. She wondered when it would go away. If it would ever go away. 

His death was something that Mapi didn’t think she would ever be able to comprehend. She was able to live her life as normal again, plastering a smile to cover up the mess that she was on the inside. But it had taken such a long time to even get to that point, despite her daughter’s positive presence.  

Everyone knew how long it had taken. Mapi didn’t think anyone really knew how broken up she still felt about it. A part of her was embarrassed, embarrassed that she still hadn’t gotten over it. Was still yet to move on. 

Even as she thought it over, progress seemed so impossible. The thought of moving on like so many people had told her to do made her feel sick, because how was she supposed to move on when he was everything to her?

She didn’t sleep that night, barely able to smile as she fed Isabel and put her to bed. The toddler knew something was wrong, of course, a frown on her face as Mapi put her down for the evening. 

Isabel had seen Mapi sad before. Lots of times, really, but her mother usually tried her best to hide it from her. She would push the emotions down and far away as she interacted with her kid but Isabel was so perceptive, so in tune with Mapi’s emotions. 

She knew whenever Mapi was sad. It made her feel sad too. 

But Isabel never would have known that her mother was sitting in the same spot on the sofa all night, her mind a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions, resisting any rest that tried to fall upon her. 

She wasn’t sure if she regretted telling Ingrid that she wanted to be alone for the day, that her girlfriend shouldn’t come over like she usually did. The Spaniard just didn’t know if it would make it better or worse. She didn’t know how to alleviate herself from some of the pain she felt. 

She realised she didn’t know much at all. 

Mapi watched as the sun rose outside, the night becoming morning. The new day arriving along with the sounds of birds chirping, the city happily waking up as the clouds had gone away and the sun had finally come out. 

Two years and one day. 

Her daughter’s whining was audible from her spot in the main room as she woke up. Her daughter’s whining was probably the only thing that would have successfully moved her from her seat. 

“Mami!” Isabel frowned at the sight of her mother as her door opened, dark bags beneath her red and puffy eyes. 

“Good morning, my girl.”

She smiled weakly, kneeling beside her toddler and raking her hand through her hair as Isabel became more aware of her surroundings. 

It was a slow morning; a slow rise from bed and a slow breakfast. The toddler was still in her pyjamas by 10, her hair and teeth remained unbrushed. 

It was no surprise that Ingrid was on the other side of the door at 11, Isabel opening the door when she heard the knocks. The Norwegian had a bright smile on her face as she scooped Isabel up into her arms and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“Mami, Ingrid.” She pointed over at where Mapi was standing, and it was one glance at the Spaniard that told Ingrid that despite her promise that she’d be alright, her girlfriend was definitely not ok. Her smile faded and she frowned slightly, concern etched deep into her features, 

Her steps towards Mapi were tentative, unsure how to approach the situation. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t know Mapi, of course she knew her. She just didn’t know about Mapi’s grief. She had heard from teammates that she hadn’t dealt with the death well, that she had locked herself up in her house for months, over a year. But it was one topic that the Spaniard avoided at all costs, a master of changing the subject whenever it would come up. 

Ingrid never felt like it was her place to pry. 

But now, seeing her girlfriend so… broken, so depleted, it made her regret not being more insistent in those times. Because maybe if they spoke about it then, she would know how to help. 

But in that moment, she had no idea what to do. 

“Maria…” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve missed you.”

Mapi didn’t reply, but she could feel Ingrid’s free arm wrapping around her and she immediately clung onto her girlfriend. She was desperate and Ingrid was a lifeline. 

“Alright. Isabel, do you want to go play with Bagheera for a minute?”

The child nodded as she was placed back on the floor, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge where the cat was likely waking up from her nap. 

Mapi, still clinging onto the Norwegian’s arm, frowned slightly, still not willing herself to make eye contact with Ingrid. 

“You’re not ok, Mapi, are you?”

She didn’t nod, she didn’t shake her head. Her mouth remained completely sealed. 

But Ingrid knew her well enough to recognise the tears that filled up her eyes, the way her hand trembled against the Norwegian’s skin. 

The brunette softened, her worries confirmed; leaving Mapi alone for the entire previous day was probably one of the worst promises she had ever made. She shouldn’t have agreed to it, not when she knew that Mapi would need her. 

“Ok. It’s ok. You’ll be ok, Maria. I just want you to sit down for me.”

She led her around to the other side of the kitchen bench, sitting down in a seat right beside her and wrapping her arm around the Spaniard’s shoulders. 

The Norwegian could feel herself becoming more and more anxious at Mapi’s almost catatonic state, entirely unequipped and unsure how to deal with it. 

It took half an hour of speaking to Mapi with no response for Ingrid to realise that she couldn’t do anything. A heartbreaking realisation of sorts, but one that she needed to have in order to help her.  

She knew she should be able to do this herself, she wished that it didn’t have to be so hard. But Alexia had been there before Ingrid, Alexia had been there for Mapi during Isabel’s infancy, right after she lost Luis. 

So she sent the Spanish midfielder a quick text, alerting her of the centre back’s state.

She felt guilty as the relief surged through her, Alexia assuring her that she would be there soon. 

However, neither the Spaniard nor the Norwegian could see the toddler’s tears, her quiet whimpers of anxiety and upset. 

Isabel didn’t like seeing Mapi upset, not at all. She was a happy person, usually, a permanent smile on her face, energetic as she played with the toddler. 

But she sat and stroked Bagheera, silent tears streaming down her little face with one thought on her mind. Why was Mami so sad all of a sudden? And why did it make her feel so miserable too?

Alexia arrived in a flurry, her heart dropping at the sight of her friend as she rushed towards her, immediately pulling her into a suffocating hug. 

“Maria, Maria. Come on, please. Say something.” Her voice sounded urgent and Ingrid could only watch, worry and confusion clear on her face. 

With no response, Alexia leaned back, staring straight into Mapi’s eyes. She could read the centre back like a book and her eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“Ale.”

She frowned, tilting her head at the blonde in front of her. 

“Mapi, breathe. Take a deep breath in.”

Ingrid slipped out of the room as Mapi followed Alexia, breathing in and out slowly until she collapsed into Alexia’s arms, the tears spilling from her eyes easily as she reconnected with reality. 

It was her reaction to sadness, Mapi had realised a few months ago. Disconnecting from the world around her, unable to move, speak. She could barely hear anything, see anything until it was right in front of her face. 

She couldn’t feel anything either, but that was a more common response, something that she couldn’t be pulled out of so easily. 

She hated it, more than anything. Because when she was pulled from her state of disconnect, she felt nothing but terror, an overwhelming sadness that came rushing back as soon as that trap door opened. 

It was like her body was trying to protect her from feeling, the emotions just too much. It would just shut down until she was numb, not really registering that at some point she just had to feel it because there was no way of getting away from those emotions. 

Alexia had seen it all before and she was usually the one to grab Mapi, to shake her out of her headspace and bring her back to reality. 

It was terrifying for her too, especially the first time she witnessed it. 

“Ale.”

Mapi’s sobs had been reduced to quiet whimpers into Alexia’s shoulder after a while, her mind throwing itself through all her thoughts, all her emotions. Luis was gone, Luis had been gone for two years. She has his daughter, her Isabel who she loves so much. Ingrid was here but now she is not, where has Ingrid gone? Alexia, right in front of her, fear visible in the midfielder’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

Luis was gone, Isabel was hers. Ingrid was gone, Alexia was here.

Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia.

Her four people. 

She felt her breath hitch, Alexia’s arms tightening around her. 

She felt the tears dripping down from her eyes, saturating the fabric of Alexia’s shirt, the wet fabric now uncomfortable to rest her face on. 

She could hear Alexia’s breathing, the sound of her heart racing. 

Feel Alexia’s arms around her, the floor beneath her feet and the chair that she was sitting on. 

Taste the salty tears. Tears of grief, fear, confusion. 

Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia. 

“Ale, where is Isabel?”

~~~~~~

Ingrid slipped out of the room easily, not needed as Alexia dealt with Mapi’s overwhelming emotions. 

Mapi’s cries were audible from the main room she found herself in, wincing as she walked towards Isabel who was still stroking Bagheera, her movements fluid and repetitive, a consistent cycle that easily could have rubbed a groove into the cat’s black fur. 

The Norwegian couldn’t see the tears that had stained the little girl's face, still spilling from her eyes no matter how hard she tried to blink them away. 

But her shoulders shook unnaturally, a shuddering inhale that had Ingrid picking up her pace and sitting down right beside Isabel and pulling her into her arms as soon as she noticed how upset she was. 

Silently, she placed a thoughtful kiss on the crown of her head, her heart breaking at the silent tears, at Isabel's defeated demeanour. 

No toddler should know how to cry silently. 

"What's wrong, Is?"

At her words, Isabel promptly spun around in Ingrid's arms, collapsing into her and crying audibly, her entire body weight relying on the Norwegian to be held.

"Mami sad, Ingrid. I'm sad too!"

Her voice was broken and Ingrid’s heart dropped at the sound of it. 

It wasn’t hard to leave, understanding that Isabel needed to get out of the apartment, that she needed to be away from the inconsolable Mapi who could still be heard crying in the kitchen. 

So she left, slipping out the front door and carrying Isabel down to the street, holding her tight as she cried, walking over to the park. 

By the time they reached their familiar bench, her cries had weakened, only releasing quiet puffs of air every few moments as she relished in the comfort of Ingrid’s arms. 

The Norwegian sat down, loosening her grip on the toddler and manoeuvring her so that they were looking right at each other. Ingrid’s frown was light and her hands were soft as she reached out and wiped the tears away from Isabel’s wet cheeks, cupping her face when she was done. 

Words failed the defender as she looked at the toddler, her uncanny resemblance to Mapi heightened in her upset state. 

She matched her mother perfectly, Ingrid thought, trying to avoid that voice in the back of her head that she would never be enough. Their smiles were identical and their laughs sounded the same. They both carried the same exasperated sigh, the confused frown and those doe eyes that were impossible to say no to. But they carried the same tears, the same cries. 

Mapi’s emotions were often reflected in her daughter, whether it was happiness, excitement, fear, sadness. Isabel was smart - emotionally intelligent. It was like she always knew exactly how her Mami was feeling, even if she wasn’t old enough to understand why, to understand what those feelings were. 

This was one of those times when she had no idea what this sadness meant. She could clearly feel the sadness, feel her mother was sad. But she wasn’t even two yet, how could she possibly be expected to process those emotions like someone years older?

Ingrid wasn’t bad with kids either. There were heaps of children in her family; cousins, nieces, nephews. She’d been there throughout all of their childhoods, able to comfort them and soothe them enough until their parents came back. 

But Isabel’s sadness was completely new territory, there was no waiting for Mapi to arrive because Ingrid knew she wouldn’t. It was up to her to calm down the child but for the first time, she was completely stumped. 

She didn’t know what she could say to calm her down. She didn’t know how Isabel felt, she was too young to be able to express her emotions, to talk through what she was feeling. 

But this wasn’t a tantrum or a small cry over a minor convenience. This was a meltdown, caused by her overwhelming emotions that she couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“Ingrid…” 

She spoke quietly, leaning into the comfort of the Norwegian’s hands on her face. 

Ingrid nodded, encouraging the child to continue. 

“Why my Papi a rock?” 

The Norwegian’s face softened, her heart sinking as she tried to subtly release an exhale that she had been holding in. 

Unsure what she was going to say, she opened her mouth. But Isabel was too quick, raising her voice another time. 

“Why Mami sad at rock?”

“Is…” 

The child looked up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears, pure innocence reflected in her eyes, her features. 

“Isabel. Your Papi, he’s not a rock. Your Papi was a person, a very good person.”

The child frowned, confusion etched deep into her features. Ingrid thought she seemed entirely too concerned for a not quite two year old. 

“He died before you were born though, Is. Mami is sad today because she misses him. She misses your Papi.”

She doubted Isabel would even understand what she was trying to say. She didn’t know when children were supposed to understand the concept of death, the concept of life. 

Definitely not before the age of two. 

So Ingrid decided to try to move away from the topic, her new goal just to bring a smile back onto Isabel’s face. It was the least she could do, really. 

“But it’s ok, Is, because you have Mami and you have me and you have Alexia and you have Leila and Patri and Pina! You love all of those people don’t you?”

Isabel nodded easily, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“I love them so much. Especially Mami. And you, Ingrid!” 

Ingrid chuckled, her laughs a superficial cover of the anxieties and concern she felt. Because Isabel was right here calming down in her arms, but she had no idea of the state of Mapi, she had no idea how long this happiness would last. 

“And everyone I just mentioned loves you too. And your Papi, he loves you as well but he loves you from somewhere else. You have people everywhere loving you!” 

Ingrid beamed, trying to make the conversation feel more lighthearted. It was a successful attempt, apparently, because Isabel replicated her smile and turned herself around, sitting back down in Ingrid’s lap and leaning into her chest. 

“I love you Ingrid.”

The Norwegian could only smile sadly, planting a thoughtful kiss on Isabel’s head. 

~~~~~~

Mapi’s head was a mess, Alexia had realised. Her emotions all over the place, her priorities set in a weird and confusing line. 

The tears had eventually ran out and she was clearly exhausted, her head in Alexia’s lap as the blonde spoke softly. The familiar Spanish was a comfort to Mapi’s ears, the words meaningful, flooded with emotion.

“You need to worry about what is important right now,” Alexia had murmured, her hands combing through Mapi’s hair. It was reminiscent of how the centre back calmed her own daughter, soft hands and quiet words. 

It was reminiscent of how Mapi’s own mother used to soothe her, nostalgic and comforting. 

“Luis is important, of course he is. But he’s gone, Maria. If you’re going to worry about anything it has to be yourself, it has to be Isabel. You have to think about Ingrid, how to prioritise your relationship on top of everything else.”

Alexia shook her head at that, sighing almost silently. 

“Ingrid will try not to let you focus on her, but you have to try. You have to show her how much you love her like I know you do. That she’s your person.”

Mapi looked up at Alexia, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned. 

“She… she doesn’t know that?”

“She does know that, of course she does. But sometimes you need to put her first. Sometimes she needs you the most. Sometimes, she needs you more than Isabel does. She wants to know all of you, Mapi, even this part. She wants to understand your grief, to know what to do when you are having a hard time. She wants me to look after Isabel while she comforts you because she loves you. You are her person, just like she is yours.”

Mapi frowned again, swallowing back the tears that threatened to fill up her eyes. Because Ingrid was everything to her, of course she was. She was the person that Mapi loved more than anyone, the first person she had ever really and truly fallen in love with. But Alexia was right. More often than not, her attention was pulled away from Ingrid, Isabel making an appearance. Maybe she was hungry, thirsty, tired. She could have been bored or overexcited or maybe she just couldn’t sleep. 

Because Isabel was her baby girl, her last connection to Luis; her last connection to her person before Ingrid. 

It was somewhat painful for Mapi to consider how these small things would have hurt the Norwegian, how they would have all built up over time, building Ingrid’s thick skin, the impenetrable strength and sometimes superficial happiness that the Spaniard wished to break down.

“What do I do, Ale?”

Her voice broke and Alexia pulled her upwards, straight into a hug. 

“You talk to her.”

Mapi nodded, falling back down to her lying position on the sofa, the exhaustion of the day overcoming her despite it only being 12pm. 

Alexia could tell the exact moment she fell asleep, her breathing evening out and her body finally relaxing. 

The midfielder had expected something like this to happen today. She knew that Luis’ death was a date engraved in her friend’s mind, one that could never pass without any upset, any thought. 

It was only the second anniversary so of course it would bring up all of the emotions that were left and ignored two years ago, Mapi’s grief pushed away by the little baby Isabel. The same thing had happened a year ago and the midfielder knew it would happen again in another year. 

Only she hoped she wouldn’t be needed in a years time, similar to how she had hoped that she wasn’t required this year. 

She had been somewhat surprised and just a little bit disappointed when she received Ingrid’s text, having hoped that Mapi finally would have spoken to her girlfriend about it, that Ingrid would have expected it and known exactly what she needed to do. It was abundantly clear, however, that it was not the case. 

Ingrid’s terrified and bewildered facial expression was one piece of evidence, but so was Mapi’s silence, her heavy breathing and her complete refusal to speak while the Norwegian was in the room. 

She was disappointed, really. She felt guilt overcome her as she watched Ingrid slip out of the room, a look of pure defeat written all over her face as she accepted that there was nothing she could do to help Mapi. 

Mapi who was an emotional wreck, who needed support and who just needed to let everything out for once. 

Mapi, who needed her girlfriend’s comfort but didn’t know how to ask for it, couldn’t bring herself to ask for it. 

Alexia knew that the Norwegian would have given it to her without a second thought. 

It was all she could think about as Ingrid walked back through the door, Isabel’s hand tight in hers as her eyes scanned the room and landed on the sleeping Mapi in Alexia’s lap. 

Isabel inspected her quietly, satisfied with her sleeping body on the sofa. She was with Alexia and Alexia made people happy. She was sure Mapi would be happy now, so she scampered out of the lounge and into the laundry where she knew Bagheera would be waiting. 

Ingrid was less convinced, sitting beside Alexia with concern written all over her face. 

“She’ll be alright.” Alexia whispered her words softly, an attempt to make the Norwegian feel better. She didn’t expect Ingrid’s eyes to fill up with tears, her head falling into her hands. 

“Why doesn’t she talk to me about any of this?”

Her voice sounded defeated, frustrated. Her watery eyes looked back up towards Alexia and the midfielder could easily see the anguish in her eyes. 

“She’s bad at talking about it, embarrassed by it. She doesn’t like to feel all these emotions so she just pushes them away. But they come back every now and again and she has no idea how to deal with it. I try telling her that it’s normal, she shouldn’t feel embarrassed but she doesn’t listen. It makes her feel weak, she said. You saw her earlier too, she just shuts down. I think it’s because she just doesn’t know what else she can do so she turns into a robot of sorts, on autopilot to get things done. And then someone will come and see straight through her and it’s like she breaks.”

Alexia’s eyes were watering, her hand coming to rest on Mapi’s head. 

“But she loves you so much, Ingrid. More than I’ve ever seen her love anyone before. I know she wants to talk to you about all this, she wishes she could just let it all out. We’ve discussed it before, what she could say, how she could say it. She’ll call me the next day and say she chickened out, she couldn’t bring herself to go through it all. It’s mentally exhausting, I think.  She used to be so confident in herself, she didn’t care about anything but her happiness and the happiness of the people around her. She was the person who would cheer everyone else up, make us smile and laugh. She’s still that person, that’s the one that we see everyday. But she never learnt how to grieve or how to let other people cheer her up and this is what happened because of it.”

Ingrid was quiet for a few moments, her eyes focussed on Mapi’s sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful, her golden brown hair falling over her face, completely covering her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. 

“Why didn’t you help her?”

She knew it wasn’t Alexia’s fault; she knew that the midfielder beside her would have done whatever she thought was right. But part of the Norwegian thought that if she had learned what to do with her emotions two years ago when Luis died, everything would be easier now. Everything would be easier for everyone. 

“She just wouldn’t let us. I regret it every day, Ingrid. ”

~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before Alexia left, leaving Ingrid with a sleeping Mapi and taking the almost two year old back to her house with her. 

They didn’t want Isabel to be able to understand what was going on, they didn’t want her to feel those sad emotions when she was entirely incapable of understanding why she suddenly felt so sad. 

So it was Ingrid’s face that Mapi woke up to, the familiar green piercing straight through her, a sad expression all over her face. 

“Ingrid.”

Her voice was hoarse, her words scratchy and her eyes swollen. It had been a difficult few hours and she felt entirely incapable of having the conversation that she knew Ingrid wanted to have. 

“I don’t know how… how do I even start?”

But it seemed she was wrong as Ingrid shook her head, her arms wrapping the Spaniard up in a tight hug as she sat up from her horizontal position. 

“No, you don’t need to. Not right now. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally and I don’t want to talk now. I want you to be ok, I want to make you feel ok.”

Mapi didn’t know it, but the Norwegian’s words were exactly what she needed. Ingrid was exactly what she needed. 

Her emotional perception, the unique ability she had to be so aware of how everyone felt at any given time. It was one of her qualities that Mapi loved the most, one of the things that was so intriguing, so alluring about the defender. 

“What can I do to make you feel ok?”

Mapi smiled weakly, trying to bite back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. It wasn’t just sadness this time, but gratitude, love. Because Ingrid was perfect even when the centre back knew she had been the opposite of that. And despite all of Mapi’s own personal flaws, Ingrid still loved her. 

And if everything else fell apart, Mapi knew that her love would be more than enough. 

“You being here makes me feel ok.”

Ingrid smiled into the embrace, only releasing the hug when Mapi’s grip on her loosened. 

“Isabel is at Alexia’s and she will be there all night. She shouldn’t be in this environment when you are so upset, not when she’s so young. So it’s just you and me, whatever you want to do.”

Mapi nodded easily, somewhat relieved that her daughter was away from all this. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

The evening was a slow one, relaxed and quiet in the calm apartment. They weaved around each other in the kitchen as they cooked with a practised ease, dinner cooked and plated up seamlessly. 

Conversation as they ate was minimal, the Spaniard clearly distracted and the Norwegian happy to focus on her own food. 

“I… I need to talk to you, Ingrid. Not right now, but soon. Maybe tomorrow. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say in a way that makes sense. It’s… hard for me, hard to talk about… it.”

The Norwegian’s attention was captured at the sound of Mapi’s voice, instantly nodding with a comforting smile on her face. 

“I know it’s hard. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to tell me anything.”

But the Spaniard disagreed, shaking her head quickly. 

“It’s not pressure, I want you to know everything.”

Ingrid’s forehead creased, her eyebrows drawing together as she frowned. 

“But why? Why do you want to go through it all again with yet another person if you don’t have to?”

It was Mapi’s turn to frown, her head shaking as she let out a quiet exhale. 

“I haven’t ever gone through everything with anyone. Alexia knows a lot, sure. I know she’s told you what she knows. I want you to know everything. Because I love you more than anything and for you to love me like that you have to know everything, you have to see all my faults, everything that I’m ashamed of.”

Ingrid stopped the tears from forming before they had a chance to materialise in her eyes, but Mapi could tell she was stopping herself from crying by the way her eyes blinked away the invisible tears. 

“What’s wrong?”

Her voice was incredibly soft, her Spanish lilt calming, comforting.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would change the way I love you. I couldn’t love you any more than I do and there’s nothing that will ever make me love you any less. I wish you would understand that sadness and grief isn’t a weakness or a fault, it’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s natural yet it takes a completely different path in every single person. You’re not different, Maria. You’re not weak. The opposite of weak, really. I love you for who you are, because you are funny, you’re kind, you’re caring. You look after people and you’re an incredible mother. I love you because you are strong, one of the strongest people I have ever met. The love I have for you is not… despite anything, there’s nothing that I would change because you’re perfect. So sure, tell me everything because I will listen but it will not change a single thing. Don’t tell me that I can’t love you before I know because I do, so much.”

“Thank you.” Mapi sniffled, her voice thready as she nodded at Ingrid, her eyes dropping back down to her plate in front of her. 

It was exactly what she needed to hear. 

~~~~~~

“Mami!” 

Despite Ingrid’s protests in the kitchen, Isabel bounded into their bedroom, bouncing up onto the bed right beside a sleeping Mapi. 

“Isabel! I said not to wake her up!” 

Ingrid frowned from her spot at the bedroom door, her forehead creasing further at Isabel’s defiant expression. The toddler turned back towards Mapi, shaking her shoulder rapidly. 

“Mami! Mami!” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, releasing a loud sigh and shaking her head as the Spaniard rolled over, groaning as she opened her eyes. 

The past few days had been rough and Ingrid was sure Mapi hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep each day. The Norwegian was awoken constantly by the sound of her cries or her restless movements in the bed, but had stopped asking if she was ok after seeing the guilt on Mapi’s face at waking her up. 

It was an obvious question anyway, Mapi clearly was not ok.

She had been distant, often unfocused. The Norwegian had to take over the parenting ropes and she hadn’t left the Spaniard’s apartment, helping with cooking and cleaning and the other mundane housework that Mapi just didn’t have the energy to do. 

She would say a few words over meals, and quiet murmurs of gratitude throughout the day. Ingrid didn’t know how rapidly her notes app was filling up, full of dot points about how and what she would say to Ingrid. When she could bring up that conversation that she was so desperate yet so hesitant to have. 

“Morning Is.” The Spaniard rolled over, opening her arms up for the toddler as she fell into them, snuggling easily into her mother. 

“Mornin’ Mami!” 

Mapi smiled, looking over at Ingrid in the doorway and motioning for her to come and join them on the bed. Naturally, the Norwegian moved towards them, sitting up beside Mapi and resting her head on the centre back’s shoulder. 

“We were awake very early this morning, weren’t we Is?’

She rolled her eyes as the child nodded and Mapi bit back a laugh, squeezing Isabel softly. 

“You should have woken me.” Mapi smiled, planting a kiss on the side of Ingrid’s head, ignoring her scoff. 

“Ingrid said don’t wake you up, Mami!” Isabel interjected again, looking up at her mother. “But I missed you!” 

Mapi could only chuckle, planting a kiss on her child’s head. “I missed you too, my Is!”

It was a slow day, but one full of quiet laughter and happiness. The small family of three spent the late morning hours in bed, before getting up and heading down to the park and tiring the toddler out. She was exhausted by the time they got back, passing out on the sofa as Ingrid took off her shoes and Mapi scrubbed the mud out of her jacket. 

The girl had been put to bed by the time Mapi had returned from the laundry, Ingrid sat on the sofa with the remote in her hand. 

“What do you want to watch?”

She had heard Mapi walking towards the lounge room, apparently. The Spaniard didn’t enter immediately, instead steadying herself on the doorframe and taking a deep breath. 

The time had come, she realised. She couldn’t justify pushing this conversation away any longer, pretending that she wasn’t thinking about it when truthfully it was at the top of her mind at all times. 

She knew it wasn’t an easy conversation to have and she knew that it was going to be hard to bring it up. But that difficulty won’t ever go away, no matter how long she leaves it. If anything it will get harder over time because time gives her fears and anxieties an opportunity to grow, an opportunity to overcome her. 

And she was completely adamant that that would not happen. She would not be overcome by those terrors ever again. 

She realised she had paused in the doorway for too long when Ingrid turned around, a small frown settling on her face. 

“Are you ok?”

Mapi nodded, forcing a stressed smile onto her face and finally taking those steps inside, sitting herself on the sofa beside Ingrid and taking the remote from her hands. 

“Yes. No, but.. Yeah.” 

“Talk to me.”

And she did. She started at the beginning, all the way back when she was a small child and meeting Luis for the first time. She told Ingrid how they had been glued to each other’s sides forever, how they grew up and nothing ever changed. How grateful she was when Luis followed her to Barcelona, moving into his own apartment just a five minute walk away. 

The Spaniard reminisced on times where they would eat dinner on the floor of his unfinished apartment, takeaway boxes empty but the room still full of happiness and laughter. She showed Ingrid her tattoo, the little girl and boy on the playground that she had gotten to match with Luis. 

It was his first and only tattoo and he had only trusted Mapi to give it to him. She knew she had to get one the same and it was something they had treasured. A secret of sorts, a little thing that almost nobody knew about. 

The centre back explained how he had always been a paternal person, all the way back when they were those little kids on the playground. He would look out for everyone, act all big and strong to protect his friends even when he felt equally as terrified. He was the person that everyone went to as they got a bit older, his emotional nature and calm demeanour always popular among their peers. 

She told Ingrid that she always felt so lucky that even though he was so popular, she was still his best friend. She was always his number one and that only ever changed when Isabel came along. 

Isabel who was just as lovely as her boyfriend, another person that Mapi learned to love. 

Another person who proved time and time again that she was a mother. 

So she lamented on the heartbreak that the young couple experienced when they realised they couldn’t have a child, that parenthood seemed almost impossible. 

She explained her entire thought process to the Norwegian, how she debated with herself whether it was worth it to miss so much football during what could have been her peak years. Whether she would ever feel comfortable around a child that was half of her DNA, a child that she carried for nine months but technically didn’t belong to her. 

But Luis’ happiness was always the most important thing and when he rang her up for the 10th night in a row in tears, her decision was made for her. 

She told Ingrid how long it took to convince the couple to let her carry their child, having to go through the same arguments that she had with herself only weeks earlier, having to come up with rebuttals to their incredibly valid points. 

But it had only taken an emotional monologue from the Spaniard to convince them, all three of them sat in tears as they finally agreed to it. 

She talked her through the IVF process, every high and every low that she experienced. How easy the pregnancy was at the beginning, the only symptom her small bump and minor cravings. 

But she had Luis and she had Isabel at that point, both of them so incredibly grateful that they practically waited on the centre back’s hand and foot. It annoyed her, really, so she had kicked them out of her apartment, told them to only come over if she called them. 

For the most part, they respected that, only visiting once a week unless Mapi called them for the company. 

She admitted how much she regretted that deal, how she wished that she made them sit with her all day every day. 

Maybe then they wouldn’t have been in the car that day, maybe they would have been safe and sound in Mapi’s apartment. 

She couldn’t have known that their trip to Madrid would be fatal, there was no way of being able to foresee that and to stop them from going. 

Tears started to slip down her cheeks as she recalled what they told her over the phone, how both Isabel and Luis had been killed on impact. A drunk driver, it was, a drunk driver who was miraculously left unscathed. 

She talked Ingrid through her thoughts that followed the phone call, after she had sobbed and screamed. Once the tears had finally ceased and an unsettling silence fell upon her apartment. 

She felt lost, she felt alone. She wanted to call Luis because he was the person that made her feel better in these times, he was her company when it felt like her entire world was falling apart. 

But of course she couldn’t call Luis. She should have called someone else, her mother, her brother. Alexia, even. But that would be replacing her best friend, something she couldn’t bring herself to do. Not so soon after he had died. Not when the wound was so fresh, not before she even got the chance to process it. 

She admitted to her girlfriend that she still hadn’t really processed it, that it was still a work in progress. His death was one she would never understand, she didn’t think she ever would fully process the idea that he was gone. 

Ingrid let tears spill from her eyes as Mapi remembered how lonely she was for the next few weeks, how she realised that now she had this child that she was just supposed to be able to raise. How she felt entirely unprepared, unfit to be a mother, unequipped to be able to raise a child to a standard that Luis would be happy with. 

How she doubted herself even before Isabel was born.

When she gave birth it got so much harder, everything seemed so impossible and she couldn’t think about anything else other than that little life in her arms. 

She had fallen in love with the baby immediately, guilt overcoming her at her selfish gratitude that Isabel was a living reminder of Luis, she was someone that Mapi would always have. A living being that literally carried her father around with her. 

She told Ingrid how she saw his eyes as soon as they opened, the tape over her shattered heart doing little to protect it when it was forcefully thrown back on the ground at the reminder of everything she had lost. 

But as she spent more and more time with Isabel, as she watched the little girl grow up she could feel her heart building itself back together, little pieces at a time supergluing themselves together, creating an indestructible structure. 

Isabel had been the reason her heart was being fixed, the reason that she felt like she could finally breathe again, finally reunited with the organ that pumped the blood around her body, the organ that made her feel alive. 

She smiled through the tears as she recalled how alive she felt when Isabel took her first steps, when her first words tumbled right out of her mouth. As the child laughed, as she played with the cat. As she grew up into a child, something for Mapi to love, to be so incredibly proud of. 

Because Luis was gone and that was something that Mapi would never be ok with. 

But he left her the greatest gift of all time, like he knew that his best friend wouldn’t be ok without him. 

And similar to everything else he had done for Mapi through their lives, this gift, his daughter, had made sure that the blood never stopped pumping, that every single fragment of her shattered heart was still there, ready and waiting for its turn to be glued back into place. 

Isabel had done a good job of orchestrating the reconstruction, even if she had no idea what she was doing. 

“But then you came along, Ingrid, and you fixed my heart too.”

~~~~~~

alright this was very long

i've proofread a couple times and kinda hate this but it's as good as it will get :)

please let me know what you think! send me anything else you would like to see as well.

and i apologise for this taking so long, i have been very busy with uni (as usual) but on top of that i had surgery on my knee almost a week ago so am very tired and in a fair amount of pain at the minute

have a good day

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ LABOUR ♡·˚

— [♡] ; souls tied by fate will inevitably cross paths again. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: endgame gojo satoru, afab!reader, slow burn, pregnancy, regret, hurt/comfort, angst, co-parenting, vulnerable gojo satoru, past suguru geto x reader, past rejection, longing, bittersweet, I'm dramatic so I write dramatic shit, chapter two of ten

wc. 2.6K

prologue | part 1 | part 3 [soon!]

The air in the room became impossibly thick as Gojo’s voice echoed through the hideout, his presence overpowering everything else. The tension was suffocating, your heart hammering in your chest as you stood frozen in place. Satoru Gojo—he was here, and from the look in his eyes, there was no mistaking the anger simmering beneath the surface. For the first time, you felt a tremor of fear—not just for yourself, but for what would happen next.

Suguru Geto turned slowly, his calm demeanor unwavering despite the sudden arrival of his former best friend. His dark eyes flicked toward Gojo, and for a brief moment, something flickered between them—na unspoken recognition, a history that hung between them like a heavy shadow. But Geto didn’t seem surprised. If anything, it was as if he had been expecting this.

“Well, well,” Geto said, his voice low and smooth, as if he were welcoming na old acquaintance. “I was wondering when you’d show up, Satoru.”

Gojo’s eyes never left yours, his piercing gaze locked onto you with na intensity that made it hard to breathe. The weight of his presence pressed down on you, making you feel like a child caught in the middle of a storm you had no control over. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the words stuck in your throat. What could you even say? That you had chosen to leave Jujutsu High, to abandon everything you once knew, to follow the man who stood before you?

“So,” Gojo said, his tone biting, “you’re joining him now? Is this what you really want?”

His question was sharp, cutting straight through you, and you couldn’t help but flinch under the accusation in his voice. He wasn’t just angry—there was something else in his eyes, something deeper, something that almost looked like hurt. But that didn’t make sense. Why would he care? He had rejected you, brushed you aside like you didn’t matter. So why was he here now, standing in front of you, as if your decision had somehow affected him?

“I… I made my choice,” you managed to say, though your voice was barely above a whisper. You stood straighter, trying to summon the strength you had felt just moments ago, before Gojo had arrived. “This is what I want.”

But even as you said the words, a flicker of doubt crept into your heart. Was this truly what you wanted? Or had you been so desperate to escape your pain that you’d latched onto Geto’s ideals without fully understanding the consequences?

Geto stepped forward, his presence grounding you as he spoke with the calm authority that had drawn you to him in the first place. “She came to me of her own will, Satoru. Don’t you see? She’s tired of being part of your broken world. She’s found something better.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched, and you could see the muscles in his neck tighten as he took a step closer, closing the distance between the two of you. His gaze flicked to Geto, and his voice was low, dangerously so. “You think you can manipulate her like this, Geto? Just like everyone else who follows you?”

Your breath caught in your throat at the accusation, and something inside you twisted painfully. Manipulate? Is that what Gojo thought this was? That you were too weak, too naive to make your own decisions?

“I’m not being manipulated,” you said, more forcefully this time, the frustration bubbling up inside you. “I chose this because I believe in it. I believe in what Geto stands for.”

Gojo’s eyes snapped back to yours, and for a moment, the weight of his stare was unbearable. “Do you really?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more measured. “Do you even know what he stands for? Or are you just running away from something you don’t want to face?”

His words cut deep, because somewhere in your heart, you knew there was truth in them. But you couldn’t admit that, not now, not when you had already come this far. You were trying to move forward, to leave the pain behind. But Gojo, with his relentless gaze and piercing questions, was forcing you to confront everything you had been running from.

“I’m not running away,” you said, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to carry. “I’m tired of… of being nothing. Tired of trying to live in a world that doesn’t care about me. With Geto, I can be part of something real.”

Gojo’s expression darkened, and he closed the distance between the two of you in na instant. His hand reached out, but instead of grabbing you, his fingers curled around your wrist gently, holding you in place as if daring you to pull away.

“You think Geto cares about you?” he asked, his voice low and intense. “You think he’ll give you the life you want? He doesn’t care about people like you—he uses them. That’s how he operates.”

You tried to pull away from him, but Gojo’s grip was firm, not painful, but strong enough to keep you there, forcing you to look into his eyes. There was something raw in his expression now, something vulnerable that you hadn’t seen before. His usual playful, carefree mask was gone, replaced by a seriousness that rattled you to your core.

“He’ll break you, just like he’s broken everyone else who’s followed him,” Gojo continued, his voice soft but relentless. “And when he’s done, he’ll toss you aside. Is that really what you want?”

A lump formed in your throat, and for the first time since you had made the decision to leave, doubt fully seeped into your chest. You had thought Geto’s ideals offered freedom, a place to belong, but Gojo’s words made you question everything. Was Geto just using you? Was this really your escape, or was it just another trap?

Before you could answer, Geto’s voice cut through the tense silence.

“Let her go, Satoru.”

Gojo didn’t move, his eyes still locked onto yours, but you could feel the tension between the two men grow heavier. Geto’s calm demeanor was still intact, but there was a steeliness in his gaze now, a warning.

“This isn’t about you and me, Geto,” Gojo said quietly. “This is about her.”

“And she’s made her choice,” Geto replied, his voice smooth but firm. “Let her go.”

Gojo’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper now, as if this was the last chance he had to reach you. “You can come back. You don’t have to go down this path.”

Your chest tightened, your thoughts spinning in every direction. You had come this far, had left everything behind. But now, with Gojo standing in front of you, his presence so overwhelming, his voice cutting through your resolve, you didn’t know what to do.

You could feel the weight of Geto’s gaze on you as well, though it was calmer, more patient, as if he knew what decision you would make. But did he? Did you?

Torn between two powerful forces, you stood there, caught between Gojo’s plea and Geto’s promises. This was the moment of truth—the moment that would define the rest of your life.

But which path would you take?

The silence in the room was deafening, the air thick with tension as you stood between Gojo and Geto, the two forces that had pulled you in opposite directions since you left Jujutsu High. But the weight of your decision had already settled in your heart. Gojo’s words, though laced with concern, had only deepened the wound he had inflicted on you from the start. He had broken you once—shattered your heart with his rejection—and now he stood there, pleading with you as if he could somehow undo the damage. But it was too late for that.

You looked down at the hand gripping your wrist, the heat of his touch sparking emotions you weren’t ready to feel. The words he spoke weren’t enough to erase the pain, the months of being invisible in his eyes. He wanted to protect you now, but where had that concern been when you needed it most? His sudden care felt like a cruel afterthought, too little, too late.

With a deep breath, you pulled your wrist out of Gojo’s grasp, stepping back from him. The look in his eyes twisted something inside of you—there was hurt there, masked beneath his usual confidence. But he had already broken you once, and you couldn’t allow him to do it again. There was nothing left for him to shatter.

“I’ve made my choice,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, but firm. You looked at Gojo, holding his gaze, even though it was painful. “You were right… maybe I’m running from something. But I’ve already run too far to turn back now.”

The silence that followed your words felt like the calm before a storm. Gojo’s face shifted, the tension around his eyes tightening, his jaw clenching. He didn’t speak immediately, but the weight of his disappointment was palpable, pressing down on you like a physical force. His usual carefree mask was gone, replaced by something much darker, much heavier.

“Is that really what you want?” Gojo asked, his voice low, the sharpness in his tone cutting through you. “To throw away everything? To follow him?”

The anger simmering beneath his calm exterior finally surfaced, and you could see the battle raging within him—his protective instincts clashing with the hurt of your choice. But there was no going back now.

“Yes,” you said, your voice stronger this time. “I’m following Geto. There’s nothing left for me at Jujutsu High.”

Gojo took a step forward, his expression hardening. “You think this will make things better? Geto will—”

“He can’t break me,” you interrupted, your words laced with a rawness that surprised even you. “You already did that.”

The room seemed to freeze after that. For a long moment, neither of you moved. Gojo’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something—regret, maybe—crossing his face. But it was fleeting, gone before you could truly understand it. His hands, which had been clenched at his sides, relaxed for a moment before tightening again.

There was nothing more to say. You had laid bare the truth. Gojo had broken you in ways he didn’t even realize, and now you were too far gone to be saved. You weren’t the same person who had walked into his classroom with a gift and a confession. That person was long gone.

Geto, who had been silent through the entire exchange, finally stepped forward, his presence calm and steady. His dark eyes flickered between you and Gojo, and though his expression remained neutral, you could feel the satisfaction radiating from him.

“I told you, Satoru,” Geto said softly, his voice carrying a weight of certainty. “You can’t save everyone.”

Gojo’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. But then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet space.

You stood frozen for a few moments, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Gojo was gone. You had pushed him away. It was over.

“Are you sure about this?” Geto’s voice broke through your thoughts, gentle but laced with a warning. “Once you walk this path, there’s no going back. Not even for you.”

You didn’t hesitate this time. The decision had already been made.

“I’m sure,” you said, turning to face Geto fully. “I have nothing left to lose.”

Geto’s eyes softened slightly, and for the first time, you felt something close to comfort in his presence. It wasn’t warmth or kindness—it was the understanding that came from someone who had already walked the same path you were about to take.

“You’ve been broken before,” Geto said, almost thoughtfully, “but that means you know what it’s like to rebuild yourself.” His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded. “Follow me, then.”

Without waiting for you to respond, Geto turned and began walking deeper into the hideout, his presence commanding as always. You followed without hesitation, your steps feeling heavier but more purposeful. Each one took you further from the life you once knew, the person you once were.

As you walked through the dimly lit corridors, you couldn’t help but think of Gojo one last time. His face, his voice, the way he had looked at you with both anger and something close to care—it all lingered in your mind like a ghost. But that part of your life was over. Gojo had his world, and you had chosen yours.

Geto led you into a small chamber, sparsely furnished but enough to serve as a living space. “This will be yours,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “For now.”

You nodded, setting your bag down in the corner. The room felt cold, unfamiliar, but there was a strange sense of comfort in that. This was your new beginning, no matter how difficult or dangerous it would be.

Geto lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching you closely. “You’ll train with us,” he said, “but more importantly, you’ll learn what it means to truly live outside the constraints of the world you’ve known.”

His words were heavy, and you knew that what he was offering wasn’t just strength—it was freedom, a chance to create something new from the broken pieces of your life. It was dangerous, yes, but you had already risked everything to be here.

“And remember,” Geto continued, his voice softer now, “this is your choice. No one can take that from you.”

You met his gaze and nodded. “I won’t regret it.”

Geto’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes as he stepped back. “Good.”

With that, he left you alone in the room, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

You sat down on the edge of the small bed, exhaling slowly. The silence was heavy, but it was different from the silence you had known at Jujutsu High. This silence wasn’t filled with the weight of invisible expectations or the pain of rejection. It was simply… empty.

For the first time in a long while, the emptiness didn’t scare you. It didn’t hurt.

Because now, for better or for worse, you were free to fill it with whatever you chose.

And you would.

As you sat there, your mind quieted, and a sense of determination settled over you like a cloak. There was no turning back now. You were following Geto’s path, and in doing so, you were forging your own.

Gojo had broken you enough already.

There was nothing left for Geto to break.

notes: Guys~ thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! <3 if you wanna be tagged just let me know!

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©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Skin

---

‐‐‐

Rating:General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, angst, bitter ex, major friend group dynamic shift

Category:F/M

Fandom: Outerbanks (OBX), (Netflix TV series)

Relationships: JJ Maybank x f reader

Summary: Kie's slowly getting under your skin especially when you're JJ's new girlfriend

Based on recent experiences, and the song skin by Sabrina Carpenter has been stuck in my head for like 6 months on top of the recent experiences...

---

**"Maybe we could’ve been friends, if I met you in another life…"**

The thought crosses my mind as I stand in the middle of the living room, fiddling with my phone, and waiting for JJ to come back from the kitchen. The memory of Kiara's expression when she found out about us is still fresh, lingering like a bitter taste I can’t wash away. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but I guess things never go as planned.

“You okay?” JJ's voice pulls me from my thoughts as he enters the room, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He’s balancing two mugs of coffee in his hands, making his way toward me like everything in the world is perfectly fine.

I nod, forcing a smile back. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He hands me one of the mugs, his fingers brushing against mine. The contact is warm, grounding me in the moment. "About Kie?"

I glance away. He knows me too well.

“It’s hard not to think about her,” I admit, sitting down on the worn-out couch. “She was—no, she *is* my friend. I hate that it feels like I’m betraying her.”

JJ sighs and sits next to me, his arm resting casually behind my shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She’ll come around. It’s just gonna take time.”

**"I’m happy and you hate it, hate it, oh…"**

I wish I could believe him. It’s not that I don’t want to be with JJ—it’s that being with him comes with a whole mess of complications I didn’t see coming. Kie and JJ had always had this unspoken connection. At least, that’s what everyone thought, including me. And then I fell for him. Hard.

Now, it’s like every glance from Kiara is a reminder that I’ve taken something she didn’t realize she wanted until it was too late.

“I don’t think she’s ever going to be okay with it,” I confess quietly. “With us.”

JJ chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well, that’s too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

His words make my heart flutter, even though the doubt still lingers in the back of my mind. I know he means it—he’s serious about us, about this. But how do I move forward when the person I care about most next to JJ feels like I’m rubbing this relationship in her face?

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin, while he’s on mine."**

I take a deep breath and lean into him, letting his warmth seep into me. I want to focus on him, on this moment, but the guilt weighs heavy on my chest.

“You think she’ll really get over it?” I ask softly, not really expecting an answer but needing to hear him say it anyway.

JJ turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against my temple. “Eventually. Or maybe not. But either way, I’m not giving this up.” His voice is firm, and I can feel the truth in it.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to silence the doubt. There’s something undeniably special between us—something that wasn’t there with anyone else. And maybe that’s why it feels so complicated. Maybe that’s why Kiara reacted the way she did when she found out.

**"I wish you knew that even you can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in…"**

“It’s not just Kie,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “It’s everything. The looks. The comments.”

JJ pulls back slightly, his blue eyes searching mine. “You mean from the others? John B? Pope?”

I nod. “They keep acting like this is something we should’ve told them about sooner. Like we should’ve asked for permission or something.”

JJ sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s complicated with the Pogues, but at the end of the day, they’re gonna support us. Maybe they’re just weirded out because they didn’t see it coming. But who cares? This is about *us*, not them.”

His words are reassuring, but the sting of Kiara’s reaction still sits heavy in my chest. When she found out, the hurt in her eyes was unmistakable. She hadn’t said much, but the silence spoke volumes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so torn between two people in my life.

“You don’t think I’m a terrible friend, do you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

JJ tilts his head, his expression softening as he looks at me. “No. You’re not a terrible friend. You just…fell in love. And sometimes, that happens in ways people don’t expect.”

**"And I’m not asking you to let it go, but you’ve been telling your side, so I’ll be telling mine."*

It’s true. Kiara hasn’t exactly been shy about expressing her feelings on the matter, even if it’s been in subtle ways—pointed comments, sideways glances, and the awkward tension that fills the room whenever the three of us are together. But I’ve kept my side of the story mostly to myself, too afraid to make things worse.

“You know she called me the other night?” I say, breaking the silence.

JJ raises an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“She just…wanted to know why. Why *you*? Why now?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his jaw tensing slightly as he processes my words. “And what did you tell her?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of that conversation settle over me again. “I told her the truth. That it just…happened. That I didn’t plan on falling for you, but I did.”

JJ’s lips quirk into a small smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in it. “And how did she take that?”

I let out a soft laugh, though it’s more out of exasperation than amusement. “She didn’t really respond. Just said she needed time to figure things out.”

He leans back on the couch, pulling me closer into his side. “Then let her have her time. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

**"You can try to get under my, under my, under my skin… but he’s all mine."**

The thing is, I know he’s right. I know that no matter what happens with Kiara or anyone else, this—what we have—it’s real. And I can’t let their opinions, their judgment, get in the way of that. JJ is mine, and I am his. That’s all that should matter.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” I admit softly, resting my head against his shoulder. “Or anyone.”

“You won’t,” JJ murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “And even if things are rocky for a while, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

I close my eyes, letting the comfort of his words wash over me. Maybe it won’t always be easy. Maybe there will always be a part of Kiara that resents me for this. But I can’t let that hold me back from being happy.

**"You can’t get under my skin, if I don’t let you in."**

And I won’t let her. Not anymore.

I pull back slightly to look at JJ, his face soft in the dim light of the room. “I love you, you know.”

His eyes light up with that mischievous glint I’ve come to adore, and he leans in, his lips brushing mine. “I know. And I love you too.”

For the first time in a while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

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‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[foreverlittlesoshi]

All Of Our Foolish Notions

noah sebastian x reader

content warnings: angst and cheating

word count - 1.7k

an ~ the beginning is heavily based off my personal life and something i've gone through recently so this was my way of letting go

The world felt like it was collapsing on you. A dream couldn’t have possibly led to this. no way. You couldn’t believe it. 

Maybe it was a little strange to go through someone’s phone over a dream but you couldn’t help it. The dream was too realistic and caused you to worry for a couple days before getting the bravery to check. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise because you had certain doubts about Sam and reading the messages just confirmed them.

I miss you, Kali

I miss you too, Sam.

How could he say that to her? Why would he say that to her? He always said she treated him so badly yet he’s putting in the effort to talk to her? Anger and betrayal ran hot through your veins but you couldn’t help but look further and sadly found more. Just what you wanted to see. An intimate video that was definitely not of you two and the date/timestamp was a couple months ago and just a day before your one year anniversary.

You quietly put his phone back down, carefully not to wake him up and just stared at him. It felt like a bigger slap in the face that he was sleeping so peacefully while you felt like your heart was being ripped apart. Choking back the sobs felt like pure hell but you didn’t want him to see you like this because it’s not like he would even care.

The energy to even stand up couldn’t process in your head so you crawled back to your side of the room and grabbed your phone, quietly crawling to the bathroom and locking the door. You only knew one person who could help you out in this situation and maybe it wasn’t the best to call another man but he was your best friend.

“Hey, are you okay? it’s 1 am.” His voice was too relaxing to hear though you felt bad because he sounded groggy.

“He’s been cheating on me. with his ex of all fuckin people, Noah.” Saying it felt like a bigger punch in the gut. 

“Hold on, what?” He said more clearly and wiping the tiredness from him.

“I-I had a dream the other night, i guess my subconscious trying to tell me something so i started to overthink but i didn’t ask because i didn’t want to start an argument and tonight i finally broke. I know i shouldn’t have but i went through his phone and saw-“ a painful sob left you, “he literally filmed them having sex just a day before our one year anniversary.” 

“I’m gonna fuckin kill -“ “No, please just help me get out of here. He’s not even awake. I just want to leave.” Begging him made you feel so small but you couldn’t help it. 

“I’ll be there soon.” 

“Thank you.”

-

When Noah arrived, it made you feel a little better though it still all felt like a big blur packing your things quickly, quietly and carefully to not wake up Sam. Maybe it was the power he had over you but you felt guilty, just leaving and not even leaving a message, note or anything. Just the key to his apartment on the coffee table and walking away from someone you spent a year of your life with. 

“This is stupid to ask but are you okay?” Noah asked as you tossed your bags into his car and you couldn’t help but chuckle weakly.

“I just feel really fuckin stupid. It doesn’t help this situation but i had already caught him in two lies about her before i found this out and i just made excuses for him. I thought the last time was the final straw but clearly not. The worst part is somehow i feel like i deserve this.” You confessed and could feel the anger rise again. 

“No, you fuckin don’t. Don’t ever say some stupid shit like that again. He’s an insecure stupid little prick who doesn’t even know that he just lost the best person ever.” Maybe he let his feelings out a bit but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stand the fact that you genuinely believed you deserved to get cheated on and treated like garbage.

“Let’s just go back to yours before i go back in there and punch him.” Saying as you headed to the passenger side.

Even while having your heart broken, you let your anger get the best of you and Noah couldn’t stop his heart from beating faster. He always thought it was cute.

-

The amount of crying you did exhausted you to the point you didn’t even feel Noah carrying you to his bed and tucking you in.

“Don’t leave me.” you mumbled to him.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable first.” He tells you as he crawls into the bed, you automatically cling onto him and let out a sigh of calmness. 

“I love you so much and thank you.” He shouldn’t have taken it too seriously but he couldn’t help it. It was killing him that you were going through this pain but he didn’t want to make it worse by confessing to you and messing with your mind/feelings more. 

“If only you knew.” You swore you heard him say but decided to not say anything and just fall asleep.

-

Getting back on your feet again wasn’t the hard part of getting over your last relationship, the hard part was realizing your feelings for Noah. You didn’t want to admit it though because you don’t want to make him feel like a rebound or taking advantage of him. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he thought about himself that way.

Drinking wasn’t the right choice but you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t know what else to do and honestly, you didn’t mean to get too drunk either. You just wanted to stop thinking about everything so you could calm down though maybe going out with the whole group wasn’t helpful. 

“Are you ever going to confess to him?” Folio’s voice broke your thought process.

You didn’t want to answer him at first, instead downing another shot of tequila. 

“I’m just scared.”

He scoffed at your response, “Of what? It’s clear that he loves you.”

Noah’s words replayed in your head from that night, “If only you knew.” and the memory made the alcohol hit ten times harder. 

“I don’t want him to think of himself as a rebound. He’s too special to me. I love him but i don’t want to hurt him.” You could tell you were slurring your words but he still acknowledged what you were trying to say.

With the alcohol hitting hard, you couldn’t even tell if Folio said anything else. All you could think about was Noah and everything you two had been through. Seeing his hardships from a young age, letting him stay with you when you two were teenagers and your family treating him like their own, going to his local shows with his old band, the fallout, seeing him mature and grow while forming bad omens, his past flings, his breakdowns, his decision to cut his hair short after so many years and seeing bad omens blow up with just pretend and all the success they received. 

It hit you hard. You were in love with him. Maybe you always had been but just refused to accept it. You were there for him through everything and he was always there for you. Why didn’t he ever confess?  was the main question in your mind.

“Where is he?” you asked Folio.

“Outside with Jolly.” Once he told you, you tried to quickly stand up but stumbled. “Let me help you out.”

Folio helped you through the crowd, guiding you out the door and the cool air sobering you up just a tiny bit. 

“NOAH!” yelling his name immediately got his attention and he rushed over. 

“Are you okay? Did some-“ “She’s fine. Just drunk.” Folio warned him and Noah sighed with relief. You tried to hug him but you just fell into his chest bursting out into a giggling fit as he held onto you so you wouldn’t bust your ass on the ground. 

“I’ll take her home and I’ll text you guys later.” He said guiding you to his car, buckling you in and making sure you’re comfortable. The ride was quiet until you finally spoke up.

“Why haven’t you confessed to me yet?” 

He felt like his heart genuinely stopped for a moment. His throat dried up, his face became red and his stomach started hurting.

“I don’t want to have this conversation when you’re drunk.” his voice was stern which caused you to whine.

“I was just-“”I will not have this conversation when you’re drunk.” To be honest, he shocked you with how stern he was again and decided to drop it until you woke up the next morning.

-

The raging hungover headache woke you up though the blinding sun wasn’t helping it and trying to remember the night hurt your head more. 

“Here.” Noah said startling you while holding some ibuprofen and a glass of water. Quickly downing both and thanking him.

“Why didn’t you ever confess to me?” You ask him finally sober. Seeing him squirm from the question surprised you. Did Folio lie to you? 

“I was just scared of you rejecting me and leaving.” he confessed avoiding your eyes.

“Noah,” your heart was feeling like it was going to explode, “It may have taken me a lot longer than you to realize my feelings but i do love you and i always have.”

“Really?” His timid voice made your heart hurt. 

“Absolutely.” you reached for his hand, it felt so clammy yet still so soft and kissed his hand softly, “I love you Noah.”

“I’ve always loved you and i always will. I love you, more than you will ever know.” He felt relief after so many years of hiding this secret from you. “Can i kiss you?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Of course.”

Soft lips met yours, the kiss just felt right and like it was meant to be. You couldn’t help but feel bad for not realizing your feelings sooner than later and putting him through hell. 

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and cupped your cheeks as he asked, “Will you finally be mine?”

“Absolutely Noah.” 

title comes from Lucky Ones by LIGHTS

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Less 📱☕️

Alexia Russo x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You meet your online girlfriend "Less", only to discover she's secretly Alessia Russo, the famous footballer.

You sat in the café, sipping your drink, glancing nervously at the clock. Today was the day you were finally meeting her, the girl you had been talking to for months. She went by the name "Less" online, and you had hit it off from the start. It felt like you could talk to her about anything, and she had this charm that was impossible to resist.

But there was one thing that always nagged at you: Less never sent many personal photos. Sure, you had seen a few selfies here and there, but they were always casual, nothing overly revealing of her life. She claimed to be a private person, which you respected. After all, she made you feel safe enough to open up, and that was all that mattered, right?

You stared out the window, lost in thought when you heard the café door open. You turned instinctively, and your heart nearly stopped. Walking in was someone you never expected to see in a place like this.

Alessia Russo

You recognized her immediately. She was one of the brightest stars in women’s football, and you had seen her play countless times. But what was she doing here?

Before you could process the situation, she looked right at you, her eyes lighting up. She smiled, a smile you knew all too well. Your heart skipped a beat, confusion flooding your mind as Alessia Russo, the Alessia Russo, made her way toward your table.

“Y/N?” she asked softly, her voice familiar yet completely shocking.

You blinked, struggling to connect the dots. “Less?”

She grinned sheepishly, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Surprise.”

You sat there, speechless, your brain trying to catch up with what was happening. Less, the girl you had been talking to for months, your online girlfriend, the one who you thought was just a regular person, was Alessia Russo, one of the biggest football stars in the world.

“I... I don’t understand,” you stammered, your thoughts a jumbled mess. “You’re... you’re Alessia Russo?”

She shifted on her feet, a hint of nervousness in her expression. “Yeah, I know. I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want you to see me as... well, as ‘Alessia Russo the footballer,’ you know? I wanted you to get to know me.”

You stared at her, still processing the fact that the Alessia Russo was standing in front of you, the girl you’d grown close to, the one you’d shared so many personal moments with. And now, she was telling you she had been hiding this huge part of her life.

“I wanted to meet you like this, in person, so I could explain,” Alessia continued, sitting down across from you. “I’ve never done this before. I didn’t want my job or my career to change the way we talked.”

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, and it was hard to stay mad if you were even mad at all. Mostly, you were just shocked.

“So, all this time, you were hiding this?” you asked quietly, trying to make sense of it.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, I just didn’t want it to affect the way you saw me. I love football, but I wanted you to get to know Alessia, not ‘Russo.’”

You sat there, staring down at your coffee, feeling a mixture of emotions. It was hard to be angry, because in a way, you understood. Being Alessia Russo meant she had the world’s eyes on her. She didn’t get to live like a normal person most of the time, and she probably feared that once people knew who she was, everything changed.

“I get it, I think,” you said after a long pause. “It’s just... a lot to process. I didn’t think I’d be meeting a famous footballer today.”

Alessia chuckled softly, looking relieved that you weren’t storming off. “I’m still the same person you’ve been talking to for months, though. I still care about you the same way, and nothing’s changed in that department.”

You met her eyes, despite the shock, this was still the girl you had fallen for. The person who had made you laugh on long nights, who had listened when you needed to vent, who had shared parts of herself with you. That hadn’t changed.

“So... you’re not just some random girl who likes football,” you said, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

She laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, I guess not. I was going to tell you. I just wasn’t sure how.”

You leaned back in your chair, still processing everything but feeling a lot less overwhelmed. “It’s a bit crazy, but I guess I can’t be mad. You’re still my Less.”

Alessia’s smile grew wider, the tension finally easing between you two. “Exactly. And I’m really glad you came today. I’ve been wanting to see you in person for so long.”

Despite the whirlwind of emotions, you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ve been wanting to see you too. Even if you did leave out one tiny detail.”

She laughed, looking at you with that soft, affectionate gaze you had come to know through your video calls. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shook your head, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders. “You better. But... I think I can forgive you, Alessia or should I still call you Less?”

“Call me Less” she said, reaching across the table to take your hand.

You squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch, and smiled softly.

[moonstruckmoony]

So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry 😢) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make. Please be kind lol 💀 I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey. Roughly ~1,000 words.

Green and Gold

She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.

The rest of the boggart soon took form—a woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winter’s own, locked onto hers. Winter’s hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye. The woman’s chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the woman’s lips parted, as if to speak.

“Close your eyes, snowflake.”

Was that truly her mother’s voice? Winter couldn’t remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?

Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. 

She knows what’s coming next. Behind her mother’s beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared. Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. “Riddikulus,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasn’t a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking. But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her mother’s appearance. He had never seen Winter like this—paralysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.

He hadn’t realised this was her deepest fear.

And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her. What had she looked like back then? He couldn’t quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her face—he had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice. Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curse—the very same curse that had taken her mother’s life—right in front of her? His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.

Was this… was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didn’t. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing. She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasn’t sure if he could bear to teach her—not after what happened to Solomon, to himself.

To Anne. But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombs—after weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why. And his heart broke for her. “Sebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?” Ominis’ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friend’s face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see what’s happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want Ominis to witness her in such a state. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another student—Arthur Plummly, perhaps—stepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly. “Winter…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze. “I… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to speak. “What... what are you apologising for?” So much. Even though he’d already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasn’t apologised for this one. “You—you know why.” He knew she understood. They’d always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments. “That’s… It’s not—you shouldn’t…” She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didn’t finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadn’t known about this, what he did that day might’ve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now. Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair. From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winter’s smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friend’s furrowed brows, but he’s certain that Winter would talk to him–she would explain everything to them when she’s ready.

He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in line—some watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadn’t seen Amit’s boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded “T” in Astronomy or History of Magic.

None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·

[writteninlunarlight-years]

The Things I Wanted To Say

This is part two of the story Things I Wish I Got To Say. This is another old one that I must have deleted when I purged my account when I went on hiatus.

You were like any other demon in hell. You were cold and calculating, standoffish and stubborn. It was cute, but I wouldn’t tell you that to your face. I knew you had your set ways in life, and I had mine. I never thought the day would come when I would never see that familiar smile again. Something so cherished in my time by your side that I refused to forget even in my new life.

I thought surely Charlie's magical ideas would never be actual or possible. However, her smile and joy were so contagious that I returned to that hotel countless times to help her achieve her dreams. See, when I died the first time, I was being attacked; in my defense from the attacker, I killed them, and I was cast to hell. It's an odd thing to be considered a sinner, but I wouldn’t change it for the world, especially since I got to see you all those days.

What hurt the most when I left hell wasn’t the sword to my chest or the ringing in my ears. It was knowing I would never see that smile again. That was the worst part of it all, honestly. I got so used to the sound of your static, the buzz of your voice, the joy hanging off your arms.

I still remember when you taught me how to dance. I was horrible at it, I know, but you made me feel like I was the best at it all the same. You made me feel the best at a lot of things, from dancing to cooking. You even let me write scripts for you a time or two. 

I still laugh when I remember how I told you ‘I Know’ when you confessed your love for me. Would you believe me if I told you I was just scared you were lying to me? Yet when you held me close after saying it, you washed all those worries away. I was fortunate to be there with you.

I sometimes still wish I listened to you that night when you begged me to run away. Maybe had I listened, I would still be by your side or have seen your smile. Yet I didn’t. Would you like to know why, my love? Because the thought of you dying without me was too heartbreaking to handle. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, yet here I was, making you live without me.

When I arrived in heaven with Pentious, everyone was shocked. These two angels were there, Emily and Sera. One sure looked more happy than the others. However, Pentious and I fought to make Charlie's dream a reality here in Heaven, too…I know she saw me up here when she visited last. Did she tell you I was alive and well?

Do you care I am alive and well?

I wish to see you again, my love…maybe one day, you will be redeemed as well.

To: My Radio Demon

From: Your Doe

A loud banging was heard at my door. I rushed to cover up my desk, and as I made my way to the door, I straightened myself out, whipping my eyes from the tears I let out. Charlie had brought me the letter that Alastor had written in my absence, and I felt compelled to respond even if he would never read it. Opening the door, I see the young Seriphem Emily standing before me with a bright smile. “OH, Y/N, YOU NEED TO COME WITH ME QUICK!” 

I laughed. She was always so happy when a new batch of hotel residents was redeemed. She always wanted Pentious or me to be there so we could help them adjust to this new life. “Em, please I…I have had a long day…How about you ask Pentious to go instead.” Though I hated to see her frown, she nodded in sad agreement. I closed the door and returned to my desk, looking at the two letters next to each other. When would Charlie be back to give this to him? Would he even read it? Does he hate me for dying? 

As thoughts swam through my head, I recounted the years since my arrival here in Heaven. Looking at all my new photos of my time and journey here, I wondered if my old room in Hell still had those photos from my time there. Charlie said Alastor wouldn’t let a soul into my room once I was gone. 

It took a lot of arguing and convincing to get the angels on Charlie's side even after we appeared here in Heaven. Yet I couldn’t be more proud of the progress all of us have made. Smiling, I let more tears fall. I missed you so much. As I let the dam of emotions release, I heard another knock at my door.

I hoped it wasn’t Emily, though I have always been kind; I knew my current temper would rival my old self in Hell. “EMILY GO AWAY I CAN’T GO OUT NOW!” 

I had so much sorrow and pleading in my voice that I hoped she understood. Yet the knocking continued, only growing more frantic. I sighed, not even bothering to clear my desk as I made my way to the door. Em had often seen me cry over Alastor, so why would this time be any different? 

As I opened the door, time seemed to freeze, to stop dead still. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A new wave of tears and emotions overran my being, and before I knew it, I was jumping into Alastors' arms.

“Hello, dear, long time no see. Did you miss me?” He spoke so clearly, with no static or radio edge. It was odd at first, but it made no difference; the man I loved was standing before me here right now. “Alastor! You are here! How? What?” As I spoke, I pulled away and saw he no longer sported the Red and Black of his typical look. No, he looked ethereal, angelic. Alastor had been redeemed, The Alastor, overlord, and soul owner was redeemed. “Well, my darling, it took a lot of work and quite a few freeing of souls to make this happen.” He smiled, but not the strained, forced smile; it was a regular, normal smile. I felt so at peace; my Alastor was back.

“Oh, Al, you did all of this for me?” He nodded his head, pulling me back into him once more. This time, over his shoulder, I could see a smiling Charlie, Pentious, and Em at our reunion. Pulling me back to face him, I yanked him into the room and closed the door. “Al, we have so much to catch up on; there is no time to waste.” A warm chuckle left his chest as he held me once more. We had all the time in the world now, safe from hell, contracts, and everything that wasn’t our pure, happy love.

I finally have the chance to tell him all the things I wanted to say…

[mysi101]

The Southern Raiders: so, demon Zuko brought out the worst in poor, innocent Katara…

What did Zuko do to deserve this accusation coming from some people among the fanbase? I rewatched The Southern Raiders the other day and spend close attention to catch up on what they could possibly mean.

So, what does Zuko do to Katara after the Gaang flees from Azula?

He looks after her and is holding an appropriate distance while asking her, calmly, why she still can’t trust him.

After her response he realizes: Oh yeah, I wronged her the most. Followed by asking how he can make it up to her and understanding what she needs, even though she is giving sarcastic answers.

He offers Katara a chance to face the killer of her mother, so she will be finally able to receive closure and begin the process of healing. This is an exact parallel of Zuko facing Ozai on The day of the black sun. He could’ve just left and join the Gaang, but instead he chose to face his father first: because he needed this.

(Furthermore, he spared Ozai, the same way he spared Zhao even back in S1; that goes against the frequently used argument that he definitely expected Katara to kill Yon Rha coming from some people.)

As I mentioned before, I paid close attention during my rewatch

At no point is Zuko pushing Katara to do anything she doesn’t want, nor does he do anything else to release her dark side.

Am I the only one picturing an incubus-like Zuko whispering in Katara’s ear, every time someone claims that?

On the opposite: He is listening to her and is offering support while facing her biggest trauma. The same goes for the actual field trip: he is nothing but supportive, doesn’t push her to do anything and is standing aside, so that Katara can receive closure under her own conditions—which she did, and she forgave Zuko because of it. Not only that, she even gives him a tight hug out of deep gratitude. Would a person act like this towards somebody who brought out the worst in them? I highly doubt it.

But then why is Katara showing a dark side, some might even say, she is OOC?

I genuinely don’t get the OOC-part... She is very in-character, and her dark side has nothing to do with Zuko. It’s Katara being presented as an actual human being with feelings. Imagine that...

Why is Aang allowed to show a dark side? I never heard anyone complain about him in those specific situations. But Katara, despite raising her voice before and showing her rage in many situations during the show, is suddenly acting OOC when it comes to The Southern Raiders.

She is about to face her trauma and to meet her mother’s killer, of course she won’t be the happiest person in the world, more nervous and angry, lashing out if someone tries to stop her. Yeah, and even going as far as to use bloodbending when finally meeting the (wrong) man.

Doesn’t mean her feelings aren’t justified, and it wasn’t Zuko who brought them up, but the situation alone.

That’s all this is

A person facing her trauma, thus showing very natural darker feelings in this situation, after suppressing them for years. Of course, it was hard for Katara, but she agreed on this trip because she knew she needed it. It was the right thing for her to do—and Zuko is the one who gave her a chance on this, nothing more, nothing less.

[wooahaee]

woozi bf headcanons sample

a/n: i wanted to put my whole heart into this, but figured i may want to want to incorporate these into possible one-shots or series i may produce! feel free to send any requests ♡

to start, THE woozi never appreciated the idea of hiding your relationship.

he is a very private person, as we all know, but he also made no grand gesture to reveal your relationship. he carried on with you, as a normal couple would do and when the media picked it up, he never cared to acknowledge it. jihoon would be spotted with you, the famous soloist who soon was titled his girlfriend. they wouldn’t. be wrong!

woozi loves to give you massages.

he knows you work hard. jihoon is known for not being affectionate, but you’re an idol too and he knows the strain it puts on your body. sometimes if you’re just sitting there, tilting your head to stretch a muscle, he’d instantly move to stand behind you, and his hands were on your shoulders. he’d look around the room, noticing how some of the members would notice but not say anything or immediately look away. they knew he’d stop once there was attention called to him. you’d hum in pleasure, leaning into his touch as his thumb would massage and rub against the knots in your shoulder. “it’s because of your posture,” he said quietly, making you grimace at his gentle scolding. “it’s because my mattress sucks.” you’d reply, and he’d smile, knowing that wasn’t even the truth.

jihoon brings food to you in free time.

if you’re at practice, expect for a boy dressed in black with a hat to slip inside with the most enticing scent of your favorite food. he’d sit there and watch you, nodding his head and giving subtle gestures of encouragement until you finished up. your backup dancers would be leaving you both alone, while jihoon would be having a steady back and forth conversation with you. he never opens up much, but when it’s just you two, hes begging for every detail of your day. and you’d answer him, eyelashes fluttering when you came to a certain realization or a detail you left out. he noticed it all, chewing with the slightest smile on his lips as he listened and gave short replies.

he isn’t big on pda, but loves to be close to you.

in public or outtings, he’s seen walking next to you but never giving much space. a simple brush against your arm or taking your hand to redirect you in pedestrian traffic is enough for him. he’s also always looking for you when you both get separated, even when you travel with them for concerts or tours. he pretends to do a headcount, when in actuality he was making sure you were still amongst them. once found, jihoon’s body would inconspicuously be right next to yours or standing behind you.

he mentions you in interviews briefly and subtly.

he’d mention how his biggest inspiration for his concept was an instance that happened between him and his girlfriend. “your lyrics hold a new sounding taste of poetry. did she help you with the songs on this album?” woozi would grow flustered, but in an attempt to keep it from getting mushy, he came back with a witty response of “all she had to do was sit there and let me look at her,” he’d stifle a laugh, “it would just come to me.”

it often caused the members to tease and push him playfully, the flustered and giggly look on his face causing them to all to appreciate jihoon’s girlfriend more and more. he needs you.

he is the first to notice when you don’t feel comfortable in a situation.

when you found yourself in a situation where there’s people you don’t seem happy to be around, or you’re feeling anxious in a large crowd or award show, he’s the one who notices before anybody and is placing a gentle hand on your back. “are you feeling okay?” he’d ask you, moving his head to meet your eyes. if you said no, he’d do what he could to make sure this rush goes away quickly. offering you to step outside, or walking you to the restroom. if you swore you’d be okay, he’d have his hand easily accessible for you to squeeze if you think it gets too much.

he wears your scrunchy on stage every. time.

you’d go so far as to even purchase new colorful ones to match his uniforms on the stage. his favorite was your dark red one, that went with almost everything he had. it was velvety, and his favorite pass-time was spotting fans catching the same scrunchies in an all-famous soloist’s hair was the same that he sported a week later at an award show. it was a simple flex, but he enjoyed showing everything off of yours that he could get his hands on. sometimes it’s your girly little bracelets or a ring he purposely flashes the camera when he gets a zoom-in.

[fingertipsmp3]

Had a dream last night that two of my best friends came to stay with me and also Mabel was alive 🥹

[badbtssmut]

Magic Stick

Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

Admin note: idea by anon

Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot

—

“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.

”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.

“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.

"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.

"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"

"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.

"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.

"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.

“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.

"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.

"Really?" You were skeptical.

"I've always had a big dick." He added.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”

"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.

"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."

"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.

“Will my boobs make you hard?“

“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.

"Like what you see?" You teased.

"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.

"Want to touch them?"

"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.

"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.

“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.

"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.

Holy shit.

How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.

"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.

"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.

"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.

"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.

You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.

“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.

"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.

"I bet I can." You challenged him.

"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.

“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.

"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.

"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.

You got this.

Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.

Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.

The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.

“Want it.” You whined.

“Yeah?” He whispered.

"Yeah."

He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?

Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.

"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.

"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.

You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.

Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.

"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.

Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.

“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”

“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.

“You can move now." You gave him permission.

Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.

The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.

Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.

You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.

His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.

You had never felt anything like it before.

"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.

Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.

The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.

“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.

Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.

You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.

"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.

"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.

Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.

"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.

"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.

“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.

“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.

“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.

"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.

Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me 200 bucks.”