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#this is very sad but i'm glad she's open to talking about it
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Lindsey Shaw is reflecting on one of the most difficult times in her life, both personally and professionally.
In Wednesday’s episode of Ned’s Declassified Podcast Survival Guide (which you can watch in the video above), Shaw recalls the painful moment in 2014 when she learned that she was being let go from her role as Paige McCullers on then-ABC Family’s Pretty Little Liars.
“I got called into [series creator Marlene King’s] office, and she was just like, ‘So, we’re gonna let you go,'” Shaw says, adding that she was told, “It’s not because of your acting.”
Shaw knew the real reason. In recent years, she has become comfortable speaking candidly about struggles with drugs and alcohol, as well as with her relationship to food and her body, and the toll they’ve all taken on her life and career.
“I just gave away everything I cared about,” she says. “I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten back to the point in my career that I was before that talk, that meeting, or that whole season of using. It’s a f–ing lot, dude. Caring about your body can make you go in all different directions, from plastic surgery to drugs to withholding to any kind of s–t.”
Still, Shaw remains grateful to the PLL team for handling her exit “with so much care,” both on and off screen. Not only did the writers craft a beautiful goodbye scene for her character midway through Season 5, but Shaw also recalls King asking if she had someone to talk to about what she was going through. When Shaw replied that she didn’t have anyone, King, replied, “We’ll find somebody.”
As for that beautiful scene, Shaw remembers that she and co-star Shay Mitchell “couldn’t even talk” between takes while filming Paige and Emily’s airport goodbye. “We just hugged each other and let it be what it was,” she says.
And Shaw, of course, will forever appreciate that the producers brought Paige back to wrap things up in the show’s seventh and final season.
“I used that show as a therapy session every time I went in,” Shaw says. “I cried harder there than I did in that whole six years by myself. Everything went into Paige. … It was a great and crazy and scary and sad and wonderful and tragic ride.”
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assumptionprime · 1 year
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"I Just Don't Think That's Going To Happen"
Good news: I finally made a new comic!
Bad news: It's about something that sucks! If the good news here outweighs the bad, maybe support me on Patreon.
In the midst of talking about how much this sucks, I am extremely fortunate to even be able to move to somewhere safer. Please support those who can't, or who need a helping hand to go somewhere they can be themselves. (Give trans people money)
[Image description: Comic, sixteen panels. Panel 1: Robin speaking on her phone, clearly distressed, tears in her eyes: "I'm telling you that I'm scared. These people-- the kind of people you vote for-- want to take my health care, my rights away from me. I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave my home." The voice from the phone answers: "Well," Large dialogue text in a large white space between panels: "I just don't think that's going to happen." Panel 2: Robin, wide eyes still tearing up, stares in disbelief at her phone. Panel 3: A website heading "Home > News" above a headline that reads "Utah just banned gender-affirming healthcare for transgender kids. These 21 other states are considering similar bills in 2023." Panel 4: Another headline reads "Health care for transgender adults becomes new target in 2023 legislative session." sub heading continues: "Lawmakers prefiled many anti-trans bills ahead of state--" Panel 5: Robin looking at a tablet screen, concerned. Panel 6: Robin siting on a couch, watching TV. A speaker on the TV says: "After the anti-LGBTQ+ campaign prompted several protests and bomb threats made against the Boston facility, the group has now turned its gaze toward the Gender Health Program at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville." Panel 7: Several headlines: "New Tennessee bill banning 'male or female impersonators' in public could criminalize drag performers and trans people" "Missouri lawmakers ban transgender care for minors, restrict coverage for adults" "Tennessee has passed a ban on gender affirming health care for trans kids. The bill's exceptions may only exist on paper" They headlines are accompanied by a map showing the severity of anti-transgender legislation in different US states. Panel 8: Robin's spouse Jordan sitting on the couch, looking up from her laptop toward Robin. Robin is gripping her arm tightly, a look of distress and sadness on her face, tears welling in her eyes. Jordan says "That's it. We're leaving." Panel 9: Robin taping the top of a cardboard moving box, looking over her shoulder toward Jordan, who is saying something as she walks away holding another box. More boxes are stacked behind them. Panel 10: Robin sitting at a table with a large stack of paperwork and holding a pen. She is leaning back and groaning: "Eughhhhhh" Panel 11: Robin standing with three friends, embracing as one of them speaks "I'm glad we got to see you before you left. We'll miss you." Panel 12: Jordan and Robin standing by the open trunk of their car. Several bags and suitcases are loading into the back. Jordan is shoving things in tighter and grumbling "It WILL fit!" Robin, holding a vacuum compression bag of full of clothing that has yet to go in the trunk, looks unsure. Panel 13: Robin and Jordan standing in the empty house, lights off, with sunlight coming in from the windows in the back doors and lighting them from behind. Robin looks upset, Jordan has a comforting hand on her shoulder. Panel 14: Jordan and robin sitting in the very full car, their dog in the back seat. Jordan is driving, Robin in the passenger seat looking out the window. Panel 15: Robin, still in the passenger seat of the car, now propping her head up with her hand on her cheek. She is looking down, seeming morose. Large dialogue text in a large white space between panels: "I just don't think that's going to happen." Panel 16: closer shot on Robin. Her gaze has shifted outside the window, her expression is now bitter, with tears gathering in her eyes.]
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rainintheevening · 3 months
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They're his children of course. Richard still recognizes them; it's only been two years.
And yet...
Peter is a man. Still six months shy of his draft papers, but he stands, walks, sounds like a man. He always has a pocket knife, he tips his hat to all the females, he sings in a baritone that will only get deeper and richer. The tea he makes is decent, but sometimes he drinks coffee now. He talks about horses and crops and reads Augustine. He can drive a car. He gives orders, and expects them to be followed.
They all look to him, to Peter. Helen calls him to open a jar, Susan questions how her hair looks, Lucy runs to him in tears. As for Edmund, he and Peter are curiously joined, they turn to each other with their laughter, their thoughts, their books and newspapers and letters. As often as his family swirls around him, Richard sees them swirl around Peter, a habit, he knows, born of necessity, but that doesn't prevent it from being strange. Even painful.
Peter moves to take the head of table, catches himself. They both start to say grace, stop, glance at each other. Peter takes the newspaper over breakfast, and is a page in before he remembers. And every time he apologises. Each time he smiles at his father, and it is warm, glad, even benevolent.
One of the first nights, shortly after Christmas, Peter finds him sitting in his old armchair, staring into the fire, after everyone else has gone up to bed. "Dad?" comes the question, and he looks up blinking at the tall man, lamplight crowning him in gold, blue eyes deep and dark with knowledge and certainty.
"I'm not who I was," Richard says, a confession, the kind a father shouldn't burden his son with he thinks immediately, but then Peter is down on one knee, reaching for the mangled hand, tender with the three fingers as he clasps strong calloused palms around them.
"Neither am I, Dad. None of us are." Peter's gaze is earnest, bright. "But you are still my father. And I will always be your son. I am forever grateful for that."
It is as if a great burden rolls off of his shoulders, and he finds no shame in leaning on Peter's hand to rise.
When the holidays end, and the four go back to school, Peter says I love you to each of them at the station.
If Peter is a man now, Susan is a lady.
She sits straight, she walks gracefully, she can cook anything as well or better than her mother. She reads the newspapers with Peter, she scolds Lucy for coming home with twigs in her hair and a tear in her stocking and wet shoes.
She talks less than her father remembers, and there is a woman's sadness in her gazing out the window or into the fire. She is also very admiring of the boys in uniforms, and Richard requests her arm on the way out of church with a father's righteous sense of protection.
But she is also gentler than he recalls, she does not shy away from his injured hand, she takes care of him without making him feel as if he needs care. She sits on a cushion by his feet as she braids her hair in the evenings, leans on his knee as she reads aloud, and Richard thinks, Not my little princess, but a queen now.
At the train station, she kisses him goodbye, and he hugs her close, and there are tears in her eyes as she says I love you.
Edmund is the closest to unrecognizable, the once-obvious four year span between he and Peter seemingly halved. He greets his father wordlessly, all shining eyes and bright smile, and his face is so close to Richard's own it makes his heart break a little.
Ed is no more little boy, he is tall, slim, oddly graceful, but his handclasp is strong. He holds himself the same way Peter does, with squared shoulders and lifted head, but he wears that nobility in a quieter fashion. He's quick to see, quick to hear, quick with a wisecrack that makes Peter laugh out loud. He plays the violin now. He returns the family Bible to the living room with an apology for having kept it since the summer holidays. He reads Agatha Christie as a personal challenge, whispers to Susan in French, and his chess games with Peter are fierce battles of strategy that Richard cannot keep pace with.
In discussions of the war and its movements, he is sober and considerate, he meets each of Peter's moods with a balancing counter, he has a way of phrasing questions that pull out stories Richard had never planned to tell.
A few nights before the children return to school, Richard sits up in bed, certain he has heard a faint cry, and he slips away from his exhausted wife to check on his children, remembering how Edmund had suffered from night terrors as a child, imagining little Lucy inflicted with some dark dream.
But all he finds is shadows in the boys' room, and quiet whispers—Peter's apologies, Edmund's reassurance, and allusions to things Richard has no context for. He lingers by the door, an outsider in his home, until silence falls, and he returns with morning light to find them curled together in Peter's bed, Pete with an arm over Ed, and the father's love is bittersweet.
They have fought their own battle over here, on the home ground, Richard reminds himself. In their own way they have each faced terror and learned to conquer or be conquered, but perhaps he can meet them somewhere in between. Only time will tell.
On the train platform, Ed hugs his father tightly, gives him a smile, tells him to keep out of trouble.
Lucy is the least changed, though she too is taller and stronger, and her eyes are deeper. She still sings, still dances, still tries to make friends with all the animals, still smiles and speaks kind and stares dreaming at the Christmas tree.
She still gives fierce hugs, still climbs into her father's lap, though her head comes up higher on his chest, on his shoulder.
But then he finds gaps in his library, and Lucy returns the medical books with a winsome apology, she asks questions about his practices in the field, she winces but does not shy away from the blood and broken things he speaks of.
Then she recites long poems, words spinning off her tongue until they become half song; she dances swift and graceful, she and Peter laughing and stepping and clapping and spinning in intricate patterns to the swing song on the radio; and it is she who, breathless, quotes Byron: "On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined!"
Her comfort is both generous and thoughtful, and she strokes her father's hair with a motherly hand that makes his eyes sting, and he kisses her fingers, looks up at her to whisper, "Don't- don't grow up quite so fast, my darling."
When she hugs him on the platform, Susan waiting for her, the boys already gone, she doesn't want to let go, and there are tears on her cheek, that he wipes away gently. "Be careful, Daddy," she whispers. "Get strong. Take care of Mummy."
"Yes, little mother," he smiles back.
And then they are all gone, and he takes a cab home, weary of his still-recovering body.
He will have to learn his children all over again, he thinks. But he is proud of them still. That has not changed.
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ahsxual · 7 months
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Stu Macher x Fem!Reader where they are dating but the readers parents hate him so one night are 2:33 am Stu knocks on the readers window and she opens it it tells him to leave but before she can get a word out Stu is kissing her and telling her how much he misses her and one thing lead to, and so Stu had to push the readers head into her pillow so she didn’t wake anyone.
Sorry if the store request does not make any sense i’ve been wanting to request something from you for a while and this idea kinda came to my brain as I was falling asleep at four in the morning so I am very sleep deprived lol anyways I love your story. I hope you have a great day
Surprise Baby
Genre: Fluff & Smut
Warnings: +18 content, clingy and soft Stu, dirty talk, degrading, cursing, dom!Stu, p in v (w/o protection), sad Stu at the end (reader comforts him)
Word Count: 1,8k
A/N: This was actually a very interesting request and Ik very well that our daydreams before we sleep are the best 🤭 I added something to the plot at the end, so I hope you still like it! Tysm, I'm so glad you like my writing! It always feels so gratifying whenever you guys tell me that <33
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Right now you're lying on your bed crying, while hugging your favorite bunny plush that Stu gave you for Valentine's Day. You'd just had an argument with your parents, since they weren't the biggest fans and supporters of your relationship with your boyfriend Stu Macher. You didn't understand why they didn't like him and didn't even make an effort to, even though Stu always made you happy and made your life more colorful and enjoyable from the moment you met him. Of course Stu had his flaws like everyone else, since perfection is impossible to achieve and that was fine by you. But not for your parents. They said that Stu distracted you from school, that he "lived" for parties and didn't give you your "precious" time to concentrate on your studies, because he always took you on dates so that he could spend more time with you, even when you said you were busy.
You perfectly knew that Stu wasn't a guy who would take "no" for an answer. Maybe it was because he'd always been spoiled by his parents and didn't understand the meaning of that word? Maybe he hated the fact that you would say "no" to him, because if you truly love him as you always say, why would you reject an opportunity to go out with him? Both answers to those questions are probably correct, because you knew that Stu didn't know how to respect your personal space either, not that you minded anyway. But your parents did and that was the problem. They even told you once that Stu was obsessed with you and that your personal life has also become his, as if it were his property. Maybe they were right about that, but that's how Stu showed how much he loved and cared for you and it always worked well in your relationship. And you really missed him.
Sleep didn't want to make its presence known, so you decided to watch your favorite show on your new tv. However, you still couldn't stop thinking about the argument with your parents. Of course you defended your boyfriend and were always on his side to protect him against anyone, even your own parents, but it did made you very upset... all you wanted was for your family to see how genuinely happy Stu makes you feel, how he always admired you and treated you as if you were the only woman to walk on earth and how he's so funny that it's practically impossible not to laugh because of some silly joke he's made until your cheeks hurt. You just wished your family accepted him and loved him as much as you did...
Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when you heard your window being knocked on repeatedly. You screamed for a second, because you weren't expecting that to happen in the middle of the cold night. Nevertheless, you immediately felt relieved when you saw Stu standing there with his puppy eyes and big smile on his handsome face you loved so much. A wide smile appeared on your face the moment you realized your boyfriend wanted to surprise you and that he had actually made an effort to see you.
His giant body barely fit through your window and the way he clumsily tried to get into your room, like a cartoon thief, made you laugh until your belly started to get sore.
"Baby, what are you doing?? It's cold outside!" you asked worriedly, before you watched him fall face down on the floor as he let out an "ouch". You couldn't stop laughing at his poor attempt to sneak into your room, as he already knew that your parents would never let him in, especially so late at night. You looked over your bedside table, where your alarm clock was, to see what time it was, as it marked 2:33 am.
"Surprisee baby!" he shouted excitedly, with a contagious smile that didn't leave his face for a moment. His breathing was accelerated, which made you realize he had some trouble climbing up to your window. You felt your heart warming at his romantic gesture, yet you didn't want your parents to find out and kick him out of your house or worse.
"Be quiet babe, you're not supposed to be here! You need to leave Stu, my parents are gonna ki-" you were really worried about your boyfriend's safety, but Stu didn't give you a chance to finish your sentence, as he grabbed you firmly around your waist and began kissing you passionately with his long, skilled tongue. His hands were all over your body and his grip was tight, not allowing you to move away from him.
"Shh- don't worry about them. It's just us now. I've missed you so much, baby." he admitted, before kissing your neck eagerly. When he he'd had enough, he pulled you up by your hips and laid you down on your bed, his mouth never leaving yours. You couldn't help moaning as you felt his sweet, loving assaults on your body, his lips and big hands making you melt into his addictive touch.
"Love, we have to be quiet... and you're making it hard for me." by now you were feeling breathless, unable to contain your desire for your horny and needy boyfriend. Instinctively, you rubbed against Stu's crotch which made him groan in pleasure, as you could feel him already hard under his jeans. He began to gently pinch your nipples through the fabric of your short pajama top, enjoying and closely analyzing your reactions to his teasing touch.
"Looks like I have to shut you up so we don't get caught, baby..." the last thing you saw was a mischievous grin on your boyfriend's face, before he firmly turned you around so that you were on all fours for him. He pressed his erection against your ass, while his eyes rolled back as he put his head back from the stimulation and his mouth was slightly open. You were starting to enjoy this game way too much, to see who couldn't hold back their moans, and you made sure you would win this battle. You pushed your ass against him and started rolling your hips in a provocative way, knowing that Stu wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. He bit his lips at this and frowned, realizing what you were trying to do to him.
"My girl really wants to get some, huh? You wanna play dirty, doll? Do you really think you can win this game against me?" he laughed trying to mock you, making you feel pathetic if you really thought you could stay quiet with the way he was about to fuck you.
"Just fuck me already Stu, I can't hold it much longer..." you quickly gave up and decided to beg him for mercy, so you could feel him inside you for once. You were dripping by now and the thought of having to keep quiet so no one would catch you at such a vulnerable and intimate moment turned you on even more for some reason.
You finally felt him give you want you wanted, since Stu himself wasn't a very self-controlled guy when it came to you. You felt his tongue lick a long, firm strip from your throbbing clit to your pulsing, empty hole. This made you grip your pillow as hard as you could while he ate you out from behind. Unfortunately, it didn't last much longer like you'd hoped, as you didn't realize how horny and impatient Stu was feeling that night. Suddenly, you felt his fully erect cock enter you without any resistance, sliding easily into you because you were so wet with your cum and his saliva. He didn't give you any time to adjust to him as he usually did and started pounding you hard and fast. He knew you all too well, so he pushed your face against your pillow to prevent any sound coming out of your pretty mouth and kept his strong hand on your head. You prayed that no one would hear you both fucking like horny teenagers who can't control their sexual hormones. It wasn't your fault that you and Stu were so fucking attracted to each other and that your shared love was considered obsessive, right?
"You like that, don't you babygirl? You love it when I fuck you like this... You needy slut, can't get enough of your boyfriend's cock inside your tight hole. I bet your parents would be so embarrassed if they saw you getting fucked this good." he whispered in your ear before changing his angle to fuck you deeper. Wet sounds, your muffled moans and his heavy breathing were the only sounds being heard in your room, turning you both on even more. It didn't last much longer when you both came at the same time, since Stu was way too horny to hold his orgasm. He was so glad he'd made you cum before he climaxed inside you.
After the moment of ecstasy you both experienced, you lay there trying to catch your breath while staring at the ceiling. It was then that Stu pulled you closer to him and hid his face on your neck, clinging to you more than usual. He was acting way too needy and clingy, and wasn't trying to be the "dominant" one, which made you worry about him.
"Are you ok, love? Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked him softly as you caressed his hair and cheeks. You knew him too well to recognize whenever he wasn't feeling good, even when he was trying to hide it.
"My girl knows me so well." he chuckled weakly, trying to find the right words to tell you what was had been bothering him. After a moment of silence in which you tried to comfort him with your tender touches, he finally spoke. "My parents won't be able to make it for my birthday. Again." your heart ached for him, because you knew this problem had happened before. Although Stu's parents loved him and treated him right, they had never been very present throughout his life and that took a tool on his emotional behavior. That explained why he was so addicted to your attention and wanted you all to himself, all the time. It made you really sad that you couldn't help your boyfriend properly, because the presence of anyone's parents is irreplaceable.
"I'm so sorry to hear that, baby. I'm sure they're extremely busy with work and that's the only reason for their absence on such a special day. We both know that they love you and I'll be there for you to make sure you have the biggest party ever." you gently grabbed his face and smiled warmly at him, admiring his ocean eyes that reminded you of the maldivian water, as he stared back at you with pure love.
"I know you will. What would I do without you? You're the love of my life, you know that right?" you chuckled as you softly kissed his cute nose.
"I love you too, Stu... so much. You have no idea of how much love I have for you and no one ever will."
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Hannibal Lecter X Reader: Us lonely few
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Warnings: talk of loneliness, smut, kissing, rough sex, unprotected sex, penetration (p in v), drinking, no use of y/n
Word count: 2,5K
The sound of Ave Maria floats out of Hannibal's office. It makes you hesitate, your hand freezing in mid air. You weren’t supposed to be here at such a late hour but you’d lost track of time. You started working as Hannibal's secretary a month ago. He’d never found himself in need of a secretary but you'd managed to impress him. He enjoyed the way your eyes lit up as he spoke about the mysteries of the mind so he decided to keep you around.
It was nice to have someone nearby. It didn’t matter that you usually remained outside of his office as you worked, just the thought of not being alone seemed to ease Hannibal. He liked your company. You were younger than him but you shared his taste for the finer things in life. Conversation came easy when he was with you. It was almost as if you’d been made for each other.
You knock on the door waiting for a response. When one doesn't come you lean your ear against the wood trying to listen for Hannibal's footsteps. The only sound that fills your ears is music. It’s likely he can’t hear you because of the song. You can barely hear yourself as you call out for him.
“Dr Lecter, I'm coming in.”
As always his door is unlocked. You push it open with ease, momentarily balancing the books you were holding on your hips. You close the door behind you before moving to scan the room, trying to find Hannibal. He has his back turned to you but somehow he still manages to sense your presence. 
“I thought you’d gone home.”
You walk over to his desk placing the books you were holding on it before going towards him. 
“I lost track of time. Your books are very fascinating.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them but I can't have you staying after hours.”
“You stay after hours.”
Hannibal looks up from his drawing to look at you. You meet his gaze, waiting to see how he’ll react to your comment. He stays serious for a second before smiling at you. 
“I suppose you're right.”
“I usually am.”
You grin at him before turning your attention back to his sketches. You lean over Hannibal's shoulder trying to get a better view. He watches you as you observe his work. He inhales deeply trying to commit your scent to memory. You're oblivious to his actions, far too focused on the drawing before you. It's a nude portrait of a woman. You can’t help but notice the way Hannibal has drawn her. There is a sensuality to the portrait but there is also a loneliness to the woman's expression.
“She’s beautiful.”
“Yes she is.”
“Why’s she sad?”
“What makes you think she’s sad?”
“The way you drew her.”
You point to the image carefully so that you won't smudge the pencil.
“She's looking behind herself as if she’s searching for something but the way her arms are wrapped around herself shows she didn’t find what she wanted.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well she’s holding herself isn't she? I mean, she didn’t find someone to hold her so she had to hold onto herself. She’s lonely.”
“ I guess I didn't think about it that way.”
“Art has a way of bringing our feelings to the surface. Even if we ourselves don’t know what we're feeling.”
“Are you insinuating that I'm lonely?”
“Aren’t you?”
Hannibal eyes bore into yours as he thinks. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe that is why, after all these years, he found himself with a secretary even though he didn't particularly need one. 
“It’s okay to feel lonely. It doesn't make you any less strong.”
“Do you feel lonely?”
“I’ve felt alone my whole life. So yeah you could say loneliness is something I'm familiar with.”
Hannibal placed his hand over yours causing you to look at his face. His eyes softened as he took in your features. You were a pretty thing. He’d been so impressed with your mind he often forgot you also had a beauty he hadn't had the pleasure of being graced with in a long time. 
“Do you enjoy filet mignon?”
You let out a laugh at his question, eyes furring in curiosity.
“I do. Why?”
“I’m inviting you to dinner.”
“At your house?”
“Yes.”
“As long as I'm not intruding.”
“Not at all. I enjoy your company.”
Hannibal's house was very him. There were artworks scattered around the rooms and knowledge seemed to seep out of the walls. You removed your shoes and placed them by the door. Hannibal looked at you questioningly. “I don’t want to get your floors dirty.”
“If you feel more comfortable that way, be my guest.”
“You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you. The kitchen is this way.”
You followed Hannibal, eyes moving over every inch of his home you could see. A small gasp left your lips as you walked into the kitchen. You always enjoyed the culinary arts but you’d never had the pleasure of owning a kitchen big enough to explore your talents properly. Hannibal watched you as you moved around the room, a small smile tugging at his lips at your unfiltered fascination.
“I take it you enjoy cooking.”
“I’ve always had a curiosity for it but I'm not very skilled. I won’t die of hunger but I've never made any adventurous recipes. Just the basics you know?”
“Would you like to sous chef?”
“I’d love to.”
“Wonderful. You can start chopping the onions.”
You moved over to him grabbing the knife he handed you before moving to get the onions and a cutting board. Hannibal unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and pushed it up his arms allowing you to see his muscles. Your gaze lingered for a moment before focusing on your task once more. Hannibal moved around the kitchen with ease as he searched for the ingredients he needed. It was almost like a dance. You couldn’t help but watch him as he moved. He seemed so peaceful like this his mind completely focused on the meal he was preparing.
Your eyes started to sting as you continued to chop the onions. You sniffed quietly which caused Hannibal to look up at you. He watched as a single tear fell from your eyes before falling onto the counter. He moved over to you on instinct. You felt a hand on your cheek, turning to face Hannibal at his touch. His thumb moved over your skin, collecting your tears. It was an innocent caress but you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. He pulled his hand away from you, moving his thumb to his lips. He licked at his thumb, removing your tears from his skin. Your heartbeat fastened at the action. 
“Let’s switch tasks dear. Can’t have you crying in my kitchen. You can cut the meat.”
He paused for a moment glancing at the piece of raw meat on the counter before looking back at you.
“Unless it’s too much for you.”
“I’m not afraid of getting my hands a little bloody Hannibal. I’ll be fine.”
He knew you didn’t mean anything but it but his mind couldn’t help but wonder what you were capable of. You seemed like the type of person who knew how to hold their own. Still he wondered how far you’d be willing to go.
Hannibal took over chopping onions as you worked on the main piece of the meal. One he’d finished he moved over to watch you. Your hands moved over the pieces of meat with an unusual softness. Despite that you seemed to be having a hard time figuring out how big the pieces should be. Hannibal sensed your struggle. He moved behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he reached to place his hand over yours. You twisted your head to the side to look at him.
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“Not at all dear. But you can cut the medallions a bit larger. Here let me help.”
You relaxed your arm so that Hannibal could maneuver your body in the way he wished. 
“There. That thickness is better.”
You turned to face him once more expecting him to be looking at the meat. Instead you found him staring at you. Your eyes dropped to his lips momentarily. You were so close to him that you could smell his aftershave. A breathy sigh left your mouth the air fanning over his lips. You wanted him to kiss you. His mouth opened but instead of kissing you he spoke.
“Could you set the table for us?”
“Oh. Yeah sure.”
“The silver ware is in the third drawer on the left.”
With that Hannibal unlatched himself from you allowing you to move over to where you needed. You walked over to the dining room. Your hands trembled as you placed the silver ware down. Hannibal's voice rang out from the kitchen.
“You can take a seat. It will be ready soon.” 
“Okay.”
A couple moments later Hannibal walked in with a platter in his hand and a bottle of wine in the other. 
“Do you drink?”
“Occasionally. But I'm not picky.”
“This wine was aged in a maple barrel. It has a sweet taste to it which will go perfectly with the meat.”
“Everything looks delicious.”
“I agree.”
You couldn’t help but notice Hannibal wasn’t looking at the food as he spoke, he was looking at you.
You ate until you couldn’t anymore. Hannibal filled up your cup as soon as you downed the last sip. After you finished dinner the two of you made your way to his living room. You were a little tipsy due to the wine causing you to become unfiltered. You padded against Hannibal's floor, moving to music that only you could hear. He enjoyed watching you like this. You were usually so formal around him it was nice to see you in a more relaxed manner. Hannibal observed you stumble over to his piano, hands toying with the keys before glancing in his direction. 
“Do you play?”
“I do.”
“Will you play for me?”
Hannibal could never deny an audience. He pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on, making his way over to where you stood. He sat down on the bench as you moved to rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Hannibal flexed his fingers, straightening his posture a bit before he began to play. The second his fingers began moving over the keys you became mesmerized. You walked over to the other side of the bench taking a seat beside him. You observed his fingers glide from one key to the other. He made it seem so easy. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sounds. As the song came to an end you slowly opened your eyes, a smile plastered against your face. You looked over at Hannibal only to find him already watching you. 
“That was beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
Your eyes softened at Hannibal's words. Your hand moved to cup his cheek. Slowly, you inched your face closer to his until your lips were inches apart. You placed a gentle kiss to his mouth waiting to see how he’d react. When he didn't pull away you kissed him again with a little more strength this time. Hannibal opened his mouth to you. Your tongues moved together as you deepened the kiss. Hannibal's hand wrapped around your hips lifting you up with ease. He placed you on his lap. Your back dug into the keys of the piano as you continued to make out. Hannibal's hands dug into the flesh of your ass causing you to whine. You bit his lip, tugging at it with your teeth as you broke the kiss. Your hands moved over Hannibal's shirt, fingers working on unbuttoning it. He could sense the desperation in your actions. He moved his hand over to your chest tugging at the buttons of your dress shirt. The buttons seemed to be toying with him. He lost his patience. Before you knew it Hannibal had ripped your shirt open. You gasped as he leaned down to kiss the valley of your breasts. 
“Hannibal…”
“What is it?”
“Take me to your bed.”
The soft sheets of Hannibal's bed rubbed against your face as your body moved with his thrusts. Your fingers dug into his pillow as you screamed out his name. There was no mercy in his movements. He was fucking you so hard you were sure you wouldn’t bae able to walk tomorrow. You thought he’d stop after the first round but you’d been wrong. Once you’d gotten tired of riding him he’d flipped you around shoving your face down onto the bed before lifting your ass and continuing to pistol into your.
The bed creaked as he moved, muffling the sounds of your moans. His hands moved against your ass, fingers leaving crescent moon shapes on your skin as he continued to manhandle you. You were squeezing him so much that he was having a hard time moving in and out of you. He reached his hand to your waist lifting you off the bed. Your bare back pressed against his chest. Hannibal licked at your earlobe before biting into it. You let out a yelp causing him to shush you.
“You’re gonna cum for me again.”
“Hannibal i can’t-”
“Yes you can. I know you can.”
He placed kisses against your shoulder blade as one of his hands found their way to your pussy. His thumb found your clit. He grunted as he circled the small bundle of nerves. You panted against him, hands grabbing at his hair to anchor yourself. Your jaw fell slack as your orgasm washed over you. Hannibal stopped supporting your body causing you to fall forward into the bed. His grunts became more constant as he continued to fuck into you. It took a couple thrusts but soon enough he was spilling his seed into you. You heard his groan as he pulled out. You remain unmoving, still trying to recover from your orgasm. Hannibal returned to bed, laying down beside you. He tugged you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, fingers moving to play with the hairs on his chest. He listened to you breath, his hand moving to caress your hair as he did. 
“You were right.”
“Usually am. But what was I right about exactly?”
“She was lonely.”
You let out an understanding hum, comprehending what he was confessing to you.
“Is she still lonely?”
“No. Not anymore. She found someone to keep her company.”
“I’m glad. I’m sure they were just as lonely as she was.”
“It's a good thing they found each other then.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
The two of you had been crafted by different artists but in your own way you’d been made for each other. If you hadn't been sure of that before you were certain of it now.
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barcaatthemoon · 3 months
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green whistle || sydney lohmann x reader ||
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sydney gets hurt in practice and accidentally outs your relationship when given a green whistle.
the worst part of your job was having to see the players go down. you absolutely loved being a trainer, and when you were finished with your studies, you were excited to be a sports doctor. still, you had become close friends with the players and you hated having to be the one who told them how long they'd be out for when they got hurt. your least favorite was sydney, it killed you to see such a sad look on your girlfriend's face.
you had been working on some paperwork concerning the girls' physicals whenever sydney was rushed in. with all of the commotion, you would have thought that someone broke something. you rushed out of the office with urgency to see your girlfriend being partially dragged in by two of her teammates with a green whistle in her mouth.
"baby!" sydney exclaimed, dropping the whistle immediately. she tried to move out of the grasps of the other girls, but they held on tightly. "let me go, i want (y/n). she's pretty and gentle with me and gives me the sweetest kisses."
"why would (y/n) be kissing you of all people?" lea asked. it was a pretty poorly kept secret that you and sydney were seeing each other. however, the team was very respectful in not bringing it up until one of you did first. that did not mean that lea wouldn't tease sydney about how she constantly stared at you with a disgustingly lovesick look.
"because she's my girlfriend, duh! yeah, that's right, i got the very cute trainer girl's number. remember when you and georgia said i couldn't, well i did!" sydney shouted. your cheeks were red with embarrassment as sydney continued. it was fairly safe, mostly just about how cute she thought you were.
"quiet, and sit still for me," you told her. sydney promptly snapped her mouth shut and sat up straight in front of you. you checked her out and patched her up, glad that it was nothing more than a bit of muscle strain. it felt pretty bad, but wouldn't need anything more than maybe a week or two of rest. "you can rest here for the rest of practice, and before we leave i'll get you something if you're still in pain."
"you're so good at your job," sydney said as you taped her up. you glanced up at her to find her staring at you. lea and georgia looked a bit uncomfortable, but neither of them made a move to leave. "i'm so proud of you. i love you, liebe."
"i love you too." you stood up and pressed a quick kiss to sydney's lips. this time, georgia did turn away from the two of you, but lea didn't move. you watched sydney try to kick at her for fake gagging. "can i talk to the two of you for a moment?"
"we won't say anything if that's what you're scared of," lea promised you. you nodded, greatly appreciating that they already knew that you wanted to talk about. "you guys are cute together. everyone would be supportive if you did want to be open about with us."
"i'm not sure that it would matter. neither one of you seemed phased earlier," you pointed out.
"don't take this the wrong way, but you guys are not subtle. it's like neither of you were born with a subtle bone in your bodies," georgia told you. you chuckled at that, having known that sydney wasn't subtle, but never thinking that you were just as bad. it made sense, even if you weren't overly thrilled about the news that everybody had caught you openly checking your girlfriend out.
"it's cute though, don't worry!" lea reassured you. "all of us really care about syd, and i haven't seen her so happy with anybody else before. just know that sooner or later, you'll get the talk from the national team."
"as if she'd ever let them threaten me," you scoffed. sydney was off in her own little world on the bench, but you knew how protective your girlfriend was. there was no way she'd let more than one or two members of the national team whisk you away for a shovel talk.
"(y/n) has a point. remember when tod went to shout at (y/n)? surprised that he came around the next practice," georgia said. lea laughed at the memory of your girlfriend tearing into the senior medical trainer. you wouldn't have called what tod was doing shouting, but it was enough to have lea run at him from halfway across the pitch.
"liebe!" sydney whined as she reached out for you. georgia and lea took that as their cue to leave. you turned around to see her laying outstretched on the bench as she reached out towards you. her hand made a little grabbing motion over and over again until you walked over so she could grab you. immediately, sydney latched onto you with her arms around your hips as you ran a hand through her hair. "that's better, i missed you."
"yeah? i missed you too," you said softly. sydney fell asleep after barely three minutes of your fingers running through her hair. you went back to the office, but left a hoodie for sydney to cuddle up with while you finished work.
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ashwhowrites · 1 month
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Hello, I'm so glad that your requests are open. Could you do steve harrington x reader, where in high school the reader was a nerd but they fall in love. But prom was coming up and he ditches the reader so he could win prom king, which he regrets.
some angst to fluff pls!!! happy ending
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻 very hard to give this a happy ending so I did my best
Prom King
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Steve Harrington was the face of Hawkins High School. He was the guy every guy wanted to be and the guy every girl wanted to be with. He had a huge selection of girls to pick from. He always pictured himself with another popular girl on his arm, adding to his popularity. Someone he could win the prom king with, someone who made sense.
But that didn't happen. He fell in love, fucking hard, with the quiet nerd in his English class. She was the first girl to make him forget how to speak. The first time he ever made eye contact with her, he tripped over his feet and landed flat on his face. No one dared to laugh since he was the king, but she helped him stand back up.
He swore when her hand touched him a whole lightning bolt lit him up where he stood.
Months later, they were together. A couple that no one expected and no one knew how it worked. But Y/N had something special he never had seen in any other girl before. They've been together for months, meeting at the start of the year and now it was near May.
Prom was coming around the corner, just a few weeks away. Y/N was growing a bit nervous that Steve hadn't talked about prom at all. They were together, so that meant they would go together, right? She watched daily as girls screamed and cried as their boyfriends asked them to prom. She wondered when it would be her turn. She knew it wouldn't be in a public place, Steve had been shying away. They barely interacted at school recently, but she had all of him once they were behind closed doors. Of course, blinded by love, she didn't see that as a warning.
~
Prom was in a week and Steve had avoided every conversation about it. It was clear to her that something was holding him back from asking, and she was sure the answer was going to damage their relationship.
"Alright, Steve. We need to talk about prom. And we are talking about it now." She demanded as she took a seat next to him on his couch.
Steve felt sweat on his eyebrow. He had been scared of this conversation.
"Why won't you ask me to prom?" It was clear to hear how sad she was and Steve felt horrible.
"It's just...I don't want to go to prom," he lied through his teeth and hoped she bought it.
"Oh, like with me?" she asked, he frowned as her eyes began to water.
"Not like that, baby. Just prom in general. I was never a fan of school dances." Steve shrugged, he watched as she started to believe him.
"Well I mean if it's not something you like, I guess I have to understand that." She sighed, very disappointed. "What if we do something else? Like, have a movie night at my house?"
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he said, smiling as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
~~~
It was the night of prom, and Y/N was setting up snacks for movie night. She felt sad as she helped her friends get ready, but she was okay to give it up for Steve.
She set up the movie and looked at the clock, Steve was running a few minutes late. She walked to the phone as it began to ring,
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby. I'm not feeling so hot. I think I might rest at home. I'm sorry, but maybe we can do a raincheck?" Steve's tired voice filled her ears.
"Oh no! I can come over and bring you some soup and juice," she said, already planning to run to the store as she grabbed her keys.
"I don't want to get you sick. I'll be fine, baby. I love you,"
Then he hung up. She couldn't lie she felt blown off by him. It was weird for him to be pushing her away. He never missed movie night and never had issues with her helping him when he was sick. She found it very strange but pushed it off.
She didn't want to spend the night alone, so she raced to her bedroom. Her dress waiting to be worn in her closet as she yanked it off the hanger. She felt a little sad when she gave up prom for Steve, but she smiled at the thought of going with her friends.
She got ready as fast as she could and went to the school. Excitement in her stomach as she walked into the gymnasium. The lights and the sound of the loud music mixing with people laughing made her happy. She wished Steve could have been here but her friends would make it memorable.
She reached her friends with an excited scream, her arms wrapped around them as they cheered for her arrival. She gave a twirl in her dress, her friends gushing over how perfect she looked. They were lost in conversation when the teacher on stage called for an announcement.
"It is now time we declare the winners for prom king and queen!"
The students quieted down, their attention to the stage as the teacher tore open the envelope. The students smacked their thighs as a drumroll.
"Your Prom king is..Steve Harrington!" The crowd cheered and clapped. Y/N felt proud of him, and sad that he wasn't here to accept it. As his girlfriend, she felt like it was her place to accept it for him.
She pushed gently through the crowd, keeping her eyes on the floor to make sure she didn't step on anyone's shoes. She reached the front, and looked up.
She froze when she saw Steve walk onto the stage, a big smile on his face and no sickness in his eyes. He looked smug and cocky as he bent down for the crown to be placed on his head. He wore a perfect suit, his hair gelled down and brand new shoes. He didn't just throw this together, he was already prepared.
The realization that he lied made Y/N feel sick.
Steve looked out into the crowd, smiling at all the students who clapped and cheered for him. And then his eyes fell on her and his face went pale.
She shook her head and turned out, pushing through the crowd of students as fast as she could. Steve was quick to jump off the stage and follow after her.
Once she felt the cold hair hit her face, the tears began to fall. She opened her small bag and began to dig for her keys.
"Y/N!" Steve said, panting as he busted through the doors. He was relieved she was still there. He reached forward and grabbed her elbow but she yanked it away.
"Don't, Steve," she hissed, turning around as she glared at him. "What the fuck was that?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Steve apologized.
"Really? Because I don't think you give a single shit about me to mean an apology." She scoffed
"I do! I just..I-I" he stuttered, he didn't know what to say and he knew every second he waited, more damage was done.
"Just tell me why!" She exclaimed, shoving him as hard as she could. He stumbled back, his crown slightly moving on his head as he gained balance. "And no bullshit lies. Tell me the truth."
Steve sighed, regret-filled in his bones. "My friends told me I wouldn't win the prom king if I was with you. I didn't want to break up because I love you! I swear I do. I-I was an idiot and told them we broke up. I kept my distance from you in public so they wouldn't know I lied. Then I lied and said I was sick so you wouldn't come. You have to believe me, I'm so sorry."
"You're sorry you got caught!" She argued. Every word he said made her feel like nothing and had her second-guessing every part of their relationship.
"You knew I wasn't popular and you knew that wouldn't change. Yet, you let me fall in love with you? You let me think I meant something and meant more to you than your stupid King Steve image. I don't believe you're sorry, I mean look at you!" She scoffed, "perfect suit and that damn crown on your head. This is what you wanted, you chose that crown over me. You're selfish and scum. But congratulations Steve, you're the prom king, I hope that helps you sleep at night" She spat. She gave him one last glare and broken look, then she turned around and walked to her car.
Steve felt his eyes water as he watched her walk away. The crown on his head felt like it was digging into his skull. He yanked it off his head and stared at the shiny material.
Why was this more important than her?
~~~
Y/N needed a lot of space from Steve, she needed her head clear so she could move on. It was clear Steve was embarrassed by her and his status would remain most important. She didn't deserve to be second place to anything, and especially a stupid high school nickname.
She thought Steve was more mature and grown up, but she was wrong. She got played by a boy and she hated it. She also hated how much she missed him. She missed playing with his hair as the TV played, singing in his car on the way home, and kissing his lips.
But they were broken up and she needed the reminder.
Steve gave her the space she wanted. He made sure to use that time to figure out how he was going to make it up to her. He feels stupid and embarrassed he let himself get sucked into a stupid high school moment. It was one moment in his whole life, something he wouldn't care about once he graduated. But Y/N was someone he would care about his whole life, and he fucked it up.
It had been a long week but Steve finally made his way to her house. He knocked on her window, smiling softly when her face came into view. She rolled her eyes but opened the window.
"What?"
"Can we talk? I brought your favorite!" He said with a big grin, pulling out a bag of her favorite candy from his back pocket.
"This doesn't help your case," she said and snatched the bag of candy. She moved over and allowed him to come inside.
"I wish I had some really good explanation for what I did, something that could make you feel better. But I don't. There is no explanation for hiding you just to win something so stupid. I know I never should have thought for a second the crown was more important, and I made the mistake of realizing that too late, I'm sorry" he said.
She sat quietly as she listened to his words. She felt torn because she loved him but was just so mad at him.
"I'm sorry for listening to my stupid friends. I'm sorry I didn't tell them how in love with you I am. And I'm sorry that I hurt you. I don't deserve another chance, I know that. But is there anything I can do to fix us?"
"Steve, do you understand that you were embarrassed by me? Do you know how that made me feel? It broke my heart. I don't know what to do to fix it, and I don't know if I want to fix us."
Steve gulped as he looked at her. "You want to stay broken up?" He choked out
"I don't know," Y/N shrugged, "I don't want to be loved in only private. I think I deserve to be loved the way I love you. If I forgive you and we stay together, did you learn the lesson? Do you deserve to suffer without me? I'm split in the middle." She sighed, moving to sit on her bed.
Steve walked in front of her and dropped to his knees. He placed his hands on her thighs and looked up at her.
"You do deserve that, and you always did. I know I can be better and love you. I don't want you to deserve better with someone else, I want to be better for you. I want to give you what you need. I learned my lesson the second I saw your face," he spoke softly as he moved his hand up to her cheek. "Can you make me suffer while we try to make it work?"
"I don't forgive you yet, but I'm willing to see if we can work," she said, melting into his hand
"Thank you," he said, moving in to wrap her in a tight hug
She wasn't sure what the future had in store for them, but she loved him enough to find out
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magics-neptunes-things · 10 months
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A Baby for Christmas
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Hi guys ♥
This is a new style I'm trying so I hope you will like it. Please let me know what you think about it! It was very long to write so I'm really sorry if you still find mistakes in it.
Summary : How your baby comes in your life. (Worst summary ever)
Part 2 is here!
TW : Mention of miscarriage, pregnancy.
______________________________________________________________
December
When Leah looked you in the eye while you innocently drank your coke and said "I want a baby" the shock was such that you spit out your drink. I mean, of course you know perfectly well that the blonde has a desire to create a family, you both talked about it pretty early in your relationship. But you didn’t expect her to throw you this information while you are lying on your couch, dressed only in one of her t-shirts too big for you after activities not necessarily adapted to any public.
By the time you managed not to choke, the blonde had added "With you" which made you bow both eyebrows at the same time.
"Thank God" you answered, dropping your soda can on your coffee table.
Leah laughed and grabbed a tissue to wipe your chin, while taking again.
"I think we have everything we need to welcome a baby properly, don’t you think? We have a house, we both make a good living, and I know you’re the love of my life."
After confirming that she were yours (your two-year marriage could have been proof of that alone), you contacted clinics and took the first steps to the path of motherhood.
You had hoped that the test carried out a few days before Christmas would be positive, but that wasn't the case. Even if Leah hugged you tightly, saying you that's it's ok and you will try again, you can't drive away your melancholy.
The following days, you were eternally grateful for Leah’s efforts to change your mind, going out to different Christmas markets or offering different Christmas activities. She knows how much you love this holiday. And you have to admit that it worked and you probably fell in love with her again.
January
"This is bullshit" you complain suddenly, driving Leah's attention on you.
"Ok. But which one are you talking about?"
Leah's answer made you smile and rolling your eyes. You were walking in Hyde Park hand in hand, taking advantage of illuminations that have not yet been removed. In the early afternoon, many families still enjoy the ice rink and the various activities offered by Winter Wonderland. It's the last day of opening and many people seem to still want to enjoy it.
"Genetics"
All you have to do is take a look at Leah to see that she’s completely lost by what you’re saying. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t fully realize that Leah’s were thousands years away from yours.
"Care to explain?" asks the blonde, frowning.
You sighed and stop walking, without letting Leah's hand go.
"I want our baby to look like you. Not me."
Leah’s smile is tinged with a hint of sadness. It's obvious that your child will not be able to have your both features and you find this completely unfair. Aside from the fact that he would just be perfect, when you imagined having kids with Leah, you always imagined them looking like her.
"It’s sad and cute at the same time" Leah comments, releasing your hand to put her arm around your waist.
You pout and sigh softly, letting yourself go against her. You’re not a professional sportsman and Leah is going to make her big comeback on the football fields in two weeks. It made sense that you were carrying your child for both of us.
"There is a way to make it possible. To make him look like you" you add, once again crossing her questioning gaze.
"Babygirl I love you but I swear if you prepare to mention my brother in any way…"
"Ew no, what the hell?"
You frown with cringe while looking at her. She shrug and bite her lip before answering to you.
"Well one of the gynecologists we visited mentioned me the idea, but I’m glad to hear you don’t like it"
"I mean Jacob is cute because he looks like you, but not in this way"
Leah has a satisfied and superior smile that makes you laugh softly and you note in a corner of your head to ask her the name of the gynecologist to go and stick an one star in her Google reviews. But you’d rather go back to the present.
"So, what I was saying before you try Lannister-ed us (Leah rolls her eyes) is that I saw on the Internet that there is another possibility. I can take one of your eggs and take care of the pregnancy. But in the end it will look like you."
"Just to be sure" Leah says with her special accent "You want to take one egg from me (she put her index on her) to put it here (she put her index on your belly) and make the baby grow so he looks like me (she put herself again)?"
"Yes?"
"I like this idea a little to much" Leah smirks.
February
You’ve always hated needles since you were little. Vaccines have always been your hell on earth and despite all the persuasion of your mother, you have never been able to donate your blood. Fortunately, you have never had an operation, otherwise you sincerely don't know how you would have done. When you told Leah about this little detail, she thought you were exaggerating and laughed. But that was before you had to have an injection every night for the goods of your treatment and that possibly you could have a baby in a few months.
"Baby, it’s time!"
You look up from the television to see your wife leaning against a piece of furniture in your living room, a mischievous smile on her face and a syringe in her hands.
"Oh no" you whine
"Oh yes."
Without giving Leah time to react, you jump off the couch and run into the bedroom. That doesn’t stop you from hearing your wife’s voice sigh.
"Seriously?"
You’ve only been on this treatment for a few days, but every day is worse than the last. Leah is doing her best and she is particularly sweet and delicate, but your belly is covered with bruises and it has clearly become your most hated moment of the day.
"Y/N I swear to god!" makes Leah when she realise that you hide yourself in the cupboard. Again.
"Leave me alone you creep"
But Leah doesn’t listen to you and opens the closet door on the fly. You try to escape, but it was not counting Leah’s sporting reflexes that tackle you on your bed. Sitting on your legs, she knows you have no chance to escape.
"Baby please, can we talk about this?"
"Stop acting" Leah laughs softly as she lifts your shirt.
Knowing that you cannot escape it any longer, you close your eyes and take a great aspiration.
"Finished"
You open your eyes to see the satisfied face of Leah, who in the meantime put the needle on her bedside table.
"I have to admit you’re getting better and better at it" you whisper reluctantly.
In truth, you didn’t even feel anything. But you quickly spot the glow that shines in Leah’s eyes when she looks at you.
"I must admit that I particularly like this position" she whispers as she leans over you, putting her lips on yours.
March
"I think I’ll throw up" you nervously say.
"Actually, I think you were supposed to pee on it" your wife objects with sarcasm.
Despite yourself you let go of a nervous little laugh, rising from the edge of the bathtub on which you had settled. Today is the famous day of the pregnancy test and you are so stressed that you wonder if you will fall out, vomit or simply end up rolled into a ball on the floor of your bathroom.
"5 minutes" Leah grumbles after a few seconds, looking at the timer on her phone. "Who makes these tests?"
"Certainly people who love neither women nor children"
It’s Leah’s turn to giggle a little, but the tension is still there. To pass the time, you sing from memory Good Caroline in your head several times, until the timer rings in the room. Leah jumps so much that she drops her phone on the ground.
You exchange a look and you talk first.
"You’re watching. I don’t have the courage."
Leah sighs softly but gets up from the toilet bowl, nervously approaching the two tests you've done. You preferred to be sure of the result so as not to have false hopes, just in case. With trembling hands, Leah takes a deep breath before taking both tests in her hands. Her nervous face becomes unreadable and you will certainly die of stress in a few seconds.
"So what? Lee?"
After a few seconds, Leah puts her attention back on you, her gaze still unfathomable.
"My Love, I swear…" you begin, ready to threaten her if she remains silent one more second.
"Positive."
"What?"
She seems so incredulous that you think you misunderstood. But a big smile appears on her face and she jumps into your arms.
"Positive! We will be Parents!"
April
Lying in your bed, Leah is scrolling on her phone while you have opted for a more traditional way of doing things, using a book. You’ve been thinking about a name for a few weeks without really finding your happiness. Despite the fact that you still go the time, you fear that you arrive at the birth before making a choice. Not wanting to know if the baby is a girl or a boy complicates your task, but it's time to assume this choice until the end.
"What do you think of Alistair?" you ask while raising the nose of your book.
"Of course, if you want him to be able to join the royal family later, it will be perfect" mocks Leah and you roll your eyes.
"I know!" exclaims your blonde seconds later with a victorious smile. "William!"
"William Williamson? Really?"
"Well, yes!"
Your sarcastic tone and arched eyebrow seem to amuse Leah more than reason since she laughs, proud of her discovery. And seeing her happy face, you can’t help but smile softly.
"Harry?" you suggest, a few minutes later.
"No."
Leah’s clear and almost cold answer surprises you and you raise your nose from your book to look at her. Her eyebrows are raised and you don’t understand why. Does she have a hatred you didn’t know about Harry Potter?
"Why?"
"Because Harry Kane and there's no fucking way that my son is named after a Tottenham player."
Leah threatens you with her finger and you hold back with a smile, realizing that the subject is burning for your wife.
"Oh man…" you whisper softly as you resume your reading.
Some time passes and the silence settles, interrupted only by the rain that strikes against the windows of your house. You take advantage of this silence to snuggle up against Leah and you smile as you feel her cheek pressed against the top of your skull.
"Magnus?" you suggest after a few minutes.
Leah raises her head and thinks a few seconds before nodding.
"I like it. You can add it to the list."
With a satisfied smile, you add Magnus to Cameron’s suite after taking the time to trace William. The innocent look that Leah takes when you look at her while doing it amuses you and you rest your pen.
"We’re only looking for a boy’s name, but what if it’s a girl?"
Looking up at you, Leah puts her phone on her thigh and you see her hesitant to speak again. The way she sways slightly on the mattress makes you think about what she does when she stands up and has to tell you something. Fortunately, this was never a serious confession.
"Well… there’s a name I like, since I was a teenager"
"Okay?"
"I’m afraid you don’t like her"
You smile softly, passing your legs over hers. Your curiosity is driven by the fact that Leah doesn’t seem to want to tell you. Taking her hand in yours, you intertwine your fingers and look into her eyes.
"Come on Leah, just tell me" you whines.
"Charlie?"
"Charlie Williamson" you try the first and last name several times on your tong, under the inquisitive eye of Leah, before giving her a big smile. "I really like it."
May
"I'm scared" you mumble against Leah's neck, where you're hiding your face.
You both were in the gynaecologist’s office that follows you during your pregnancy. This is the first ultrasound you will have for your baby. After taking a blood test after a month of pregnancy and confirming that you were pregnant, you considered it unnecessary to specify that you did a test almost every other day. This all sounds almost too good to be true. You feel like something terrible is going to happen to you.
"I’m sure it’s going to be all right" Leah replies with her deep, calm voice, kissing the top of your head.
In truth, she is at least as stressed as you and doesn't pay any attention to the magazine she's reading. She is also the first to get up when you are called, even if she gently reaches out to you to help you do the same.
The gynecologist asks you about your state of health, but you rather want to shake her so that she hurries to put you on the observation table. You want, need, to know that everything is fine.
After a few minutes it is finally the case and you find yourself nervously attached to Leah’s hand.
"We may not hear the heartbeat well, since the fetus is still small" it informs you, which does not help your stress to decrease.
You answer nothing, focused on the images that scroll on the screen in front of you. You look at Leah when she explains to both of you where the baby is, which you would have been unable to see on your own. These white spots are inexplicable to you. But your wife’s wet eyes are enough to make you smile.
"Come on, let’s try to listen to his heart now."
You swallow and close your eyes, expecting to hear a very slight sound after the doctor’s explanations. But it’s actually a fast and loud drumming that sounds in the room, making you quickly open your eyes. The sensations you feel when hearing this melody are indescribable and you only realize that you are crying when Leah gently wipes your tears with her thumb.
"It looks like this baby is in great shape. Congratulations. I’ll let you get dressed and we’ll make an appointment for the next check."
You nod and can’t get your eyes off the frozen screen where the proof is that this baby really exists.
"We’re gonna be parents."
Leah’s sentence, the same one she uttered when discovering the positive tests, seems more like an achievement this time. But you understand her feeling. It seems to be much more real.
"You’re not gonna knock out, are you?"
The look lost in Leah’s gaze becomes clear again when it lands on you and you address her a mocking smile.
"Of course not. Kiss me rather than tell nonsense."
Smiling again, you stand up and put your arms around her neck to kiss her tenderly. You let go of her when she kisses your cheek and neck, enjoying the moment. You’re going to be parents. And most importantly, your baby is healthy.
June
The good weather being back, it's with a little more motivation that you go to Leah's football matches. Even if you haven’t missed one in or around London, not having to cover yourself with layers of clothing is nice. Summer is coming and the end of the season too. Arsenal is pretty well placed in the standings, but it's a FA Cup's match that is being played today. And not just any since it’s the final and Arsenal is playing against Chelsea.
You find yourself in the ranks of families and friends, surrounded by the Williamsons and other family members of different players. The friends are also present since Ella Toone is also part of the ranks, just like Mary Earps and other international players that you have already met several times thanks to Leah.
You're wearing a jersey with Williamson print on your back, Leah's Arsenal cap and you bought yourself a scarf at the booth, which you put on your shoulders. The proud look your wife gave you when she saw you was worth it.
The match is tight and it's with a blank score that the half is whistled. Leah looks for you and addresses you a smirk before entering the tunnel to return to the changing rooms, which you answer obviously.
"Would you like something to drink, darling?" asks your mother-in-law affectionately and you think for a few moments.
Quench your thirst and know that you will run to the toilet a few minutes later and definitely miss part of the game? Or wait for a few more minutes? You end up opting for the second option and given the following of events, you are quite right. If you’d missed that moment, you’d probably have found yourself with a divorce paper under your nose.
60th minute, a corner for Arsenal is played right in the box. The ball is taken from the head by Alessia but ends on the crossbar. However, it’s not over since Lia managed to intercept it and pass it back to Leah who sends a cannon ball to the bottom of the nets.
You expected Leah to rush to her teammates to celebrate, but instead you see her positioning her arms as if she was carrying an imaginary baby and she started rocking it. There’s a big smile on your face when you realize what she’s doing. You haven’t made your pregnancy public yet, fearing you’ll have to announce bad news if things go wrong. It must also be said that the fact that you are not famous and that your belly grew during the winter allowed you not to have too much effort to put in place for this.
Playful smiles on their faces, Leah’s teammates finally reach her height to congratulate her for this goal. These hugs finished, Leah looks for you again among the crowd and you send her a kiss with your hand.
Thirty minutes later, the referee’s whistle rang through the stadium, sealing Arsenal’s victory. You find yourself jumping on the spot with excitement too, cuddling all the people you can reach. You know how important this game was for Leah, who wants to get back to her old level as soon as possible.
It’s only after the cup has been lifted by the whole team that Leah makes her way to you, but you’re happy to see her enjoying these moments with her friends. You smile when you see her running towards you and get as close as possible to the edge of the field. The height of the bleachers doesn't seem to bother Leah who climbs it simply to get to your height.
"I’m so proud of you, Leah" you smile as you stretch out your arms at her.
A big smile on her face, Leah hugs you with pleasure, putting a tender kiss on your lips.
"Did you see my goal?"
"Was it you? I could have sworn it was Cloé who scored that fantastic goal"
Leah snorts and you smirk at her, taking her face in your both hands.
"Have you seen my celebration too?"
"I did Baby. You're such a dork" you smile when Leah laughs and kiss her once again, forgetting the world around you, making you believing that you are all alone.
But you weren't.
"Hum. Mind if I hug my sister, too?"
September
Leah’s flirtatious nature is known in the football world and it never changed when you guys got together. You know perfectly well that there is nothing behind, you saw the way she flirted "for real" when she became interested in you. However, as you often tell her, it's not necessarily as easy to understand for the person in front of her. Because of her sexual orientation, they are very often girls.
But then again, you never gave her a fit of jealousy because she never exceeded the limits you set and because she always proved to you that you could have a blind and total trust in her. Apart from her sharp, chaotic, unpredictable and sometimes stubborn character, Leah knows how to be affectionate, attentive, romantic and tender. You think some people won’t believe you, but you don’t care. That part of Leah is only for you and that’s perfect.
But tonight, you feel your hormones bubbling. Leah asked you to join her in the karaoke bar she used to go to with her teammates. Tonight there’s Alessia, Lia, Alex, Katie and Caitlin. After breaking everyone’s ears on an Adele song, Katie was forced to sit down for the end of the evening and sulks in her corner. Alessia and Leah went back for drinks while Alex started a song with Caitlin.
Lia is installed at your side, but you must admit that you're paying any attention to your discussion. Your interest is entirely focused on the waitress who flirts without the slightest embarrassment with your wife.
"You’re not listening to me at all" Lia laughs softly, making you finally turn your head in her direction.
"No, I’m sorry."
You make a grimace but she addresses you a smile, apparently not in the least vindictive. You like the Swiss girl, you know she had a little fling with Leah before you met, but her behavior towards you has always been impeccable. You can’t tell if feelings are completely erased from her side, but she’s a loyal friend to Leah and who would you blame for someone having stifled feelings for the perfect woman that is Leah?
Speaking of the blonde, you shift your attention to her to see that she is still in full discussion with the waitress. Even Alessia seems to find time long, her gaze navigates between Leah and the table. Noticing that you observe the scene with coldness, she taps on Leah’s shoulder with a discreet nod in your direction.
Your eyes cross the baby blue of Leah who seems to realize the situation immediately. So she easily emerges from the grip of the waitress who had literally grabbed her arm to come back to you.
"A little song Less?" quickly offers Lia when she feels the tension emanating from your body.
Alessia vaguely answers a "Yes please" letting her desire to flee the possible dispute that point the tip of her nose, which would surely have amused you another day.
"You okay Babe?" asks Leah, putting a hand on your leg.
"Don’t Babe me, Leah." You said coldly with an eyebrow arched.
"Come on, Baby, it was nothing. We were just talking."
"Normal people don’t talk to others by sticking their breasts under their noses."
Leah rolls her eyes and you push her hand back from your leg, but the blonde does not let go and passes the same hand around your shoulders to squeeze you against her. You try to escape, but your big belly is holding you back. Now the baby’s on Leah’s side.
"Leah" you try to push her away despite the gust of kisses she puts all over your face.
"Leah" you repeat once again, feeling your anger wither.
"I love it when you say my name" your wife whispers mischievously in your ear.
"Stop it. It’s not funny"
Despite this, Leah has a smile on her face when she resumes speaking, your chin delicately trapped between her thumb and index finger.
"I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it bothered you that much. You know I only see you. It doesn’t bother you so much usually, what changes this time?"
You shrug your shoulders in perfect bad faith. You know why, but you’re not sure you want to talk about it. When it goes like this before, you have a nice time sticking to Leah and making out with her to make your rivals understand that she's yours.
"Dunno" you mumble before you finish your soda.
"You’re lying" Leah whispers in your ear, laying a kiss on the corner of your jaw.
"What do you want me to say?" you sigh softly "she is younger, prettier and she can certainly offer free drinks to whoever she wants."
The end of your sentence was mostly meant to distract Leah from the rest, but it obviously didn’t work. The blonde straightens a little, frowning.
"No one is prettier than you"
"Oh please, Leah, I appreciate your support but I have already gained more than ten kilos. Be realistic. I am. And I don’t like it when women prettier than me flirt with my wife."
But Leah doesn't seem to hear it from this ear since your face always between her fingers is putting closer to hers. Her eyebrows are frowned, much more than usual.
"Nobody’s prettier than you. I’m serious."
You have trouble supporting the intensity of her gaze and you find yourself blushing like you did when she complimented you at the beginning of your relationship. The blonde finally releases your face, but only to tighten you against her, with two arms this time.
"You are my wife. No one is prettier than you."
October
In half a sleep, Leah turns around in your bed to get on her stomach, expecting to be able to curl up against you. Except that it's only the void that receives her, making her frown. Still without opening her eyes, she taps the mattress in search of your body, without success. It's only then that she opens her eyes and rises slightly on the mattress to note your absence at her side.
"Y/N?"
When the silence answers her, Leah ends up getting up and looking for you. She walks through the different rooms of the house starting with the bathroom and ending with your garden, without success. Gradually, the blonde feels panic invading her, especially when she realizes that your pajamas are wisely folded on a chair in your room and that you left with her purse but without your phone or your car.
It's with trembling hands and fingers that your wife grabs her phone to call the first number that comes to her mind in an emergency.
"What’s up Baba?" makes the sleepy voice of Amanda Williamson, awakened at 3am by her daughter.
"Y/N is missing."
********
When you return home, you are surprised to see that an additional car is in your driveway, apparently parked in a hurry. You don’t understand why your mother-in-law’s car is here, or why all the lights in the house are on.
So it’s puzzling that you go to the door, your food bag in your hand. People had warned you that you would have strange cravings, but you didn’t expect to want cinnamon rolls and Beef Jerky in the middle of the night. Unable to go back to sleep and not having it at home, you simply decided to go to the supermarket open 24/24 in your neighborhood to do some shopping.
If you were perplexed when you arrived at home, you have the impression that question marks grow on your head when you pass the front door. Leah is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands and your stepmother in a bathrobe over her nightgown on the phone with someone. Hearing the front door, Leah abruptly raises her head and before you realize it you find yourself pressed against her with blond hair obstructing your vision.
"Okay, she’s here. Yes … thank you very much" you hear Amanda saying before she hangs up.
"Where the hell were you? Are you okay? What happened?"
Leah releases you a little and holds you at arm’s length, letting her gaze slide over every inch of your body to check that you have no wound anywhere.
"I’m fine! I - I was hungry so I went to buy food"
"At 3 in the morning?!" Leah half-scream
"Yes?"
"Without taking your phone?"
"I forgot it."
"For God’s sake, have you lost your mind?! If anything had happened to you, what would you have done? We were calling the cops and -"
"Leah."
Amanda’s voice sounds and you realize at this moment that she has taken a few steps to get closer to you both. Laying a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she draws her attention with her calm, smoothing voice. It seems to work since Leah turns directly in her direction.
"She’s fine. You were afraid, but everything’s fine now"
The inspiration that Leah takes to calm down is audible throughout the room and you take advantage of this moment of calm to say in a small voice
"I'm so sorry"
The blue eyes of the footballer refer to you and the embrace that you exchange this time is more made to comfort her for once. Over her shoulder, you give your mother-in-law an apology smile.
"Sorry for pulling you out of bed in the middle of the night"
"No worries. But I’m going back now."
She winks at you and kisses you both before leaving the house. Leah is still in your arms and you gently stroke her back with your fingertips, following her spine. Her face is hidden in your neck and you kiss her hair before you speak again.
"Shall we go back to bed too?"
Leah answers you with a grunt and grabs your hand to train you in your bedroom, taking care to turn off the lights of the house in passing.
"Don’t ever do that to me again" Leah mutters and clings to you like she’s afraid you’ll disappear again.
"I’m sorry" you say again. "I know how tired you are with the games and the training. I just wanted to let you rest."
"I don’t care if I’m tired. If you need anything and I sleep, you wake me up. If anything happens to you and I’m gone, you call me. I won’t accept any excuses."
"At your command, Captain" you smile tenderly before kissing her.
"I’m not kidding, Williamson."
"I know, Williamson."
November
"Y/N Y/S/N Williamson, will you please come down that ladder, right now?"
Hearing the voice both panicked and commanding of your wife, you smile and roll your eyes. Leah’s over-protective behavior is growing day by day and you will surely not be allowed to lift any pencil soon.
"Leah, I’m not risking anything" you say, turning in her direction.
"No! Don't move! You will fall!"
Letting the panic prevail, Leah rushes towards you, throwing her football bag and her boots to makes you come down the ladder by carrying you in her arms like a bride. Smiling, you put your arms around her neck and put your lips on hers.
"You’re so strong" you coo tenderly before deposing other kisses along her jaw and into her neck.
You feel her shiver, so you continue your kisses. Leah was away all the morning and the beginning of the afternoon for training and you were getting bored. So you decided to install the Christmas decoration, going up the boxes from the cellar and setting up your Christmas tree. Without decorating it, knowing that Leah would do it with you. You also had time to decorate the windows with stickers and fake snow and you were finishing installing the lights above your windows.
"Oh no, I know exactly what you’re doing" laughs Leah as you, gently resting you on the floor.
"What?" you ask maliciously.
"You’re trying to distract me from your foolishness"
"I will only speak in the presence of my lawyer"
Leah laughs and you can’t help but smile when you hear your favorite sound. Putting yourself on tiptoe, you deposit a new kiss on her lips to which the blonde responds without hesitation.
"How is my baby?"
Her hand gently settles on your belly and you smile again feeling her do.
"He’s in great shape, he’s been kicking me all day"
"Believe me, there is a future talented footballer in there"
"A striker most certainly" you smirk
"No way. He's going to be a defender"
"Or a keeper"
"Who in the world would want to be a goalkeeper, except Mary’s children?"
You know that Leah is joking and that she will be happy no matter what path your child chooses. But if he could enjoy football and become an Arsenal fan, it would probably be a big plus for her. As if to confirm this words, you feel the baby give a new kick, exactly where Leah’s hand is.
"Well hello to you too Buba" Leah says tenderly before bending over to lay a kiss on your belly.
"How was training baby?" You ask, picking up the stuff Leah threw on the floor a few minutes ago.
"Leave it, I’ll take care of it" intervenes the blonde, grabbing you by the hand. "It was ok, but training in the cold begins to become painful"
You smile at her and decide to take her with you in the kitchen.
"How about a nice hot chocolate?"
"I think it’s the best idea of your day. Way above climbing a ladder and being eight months pregnant."
December
Leah is in the training room, surrounded by her teammates when her phone starts ringing. By habit, in case you have an emergency, she leaves it under general so you can contact her anytime. She gave you a special ring, allowing her to recognize your calls compared to others.
"Lee, phone" shouts Alessia across the room.
"Can you look who’s calling me please?"
The blonde does it willingly, rummaging through spare clothes and cereal boxes.
"It's your mother."
Leah sighs and walks across the room to grab her phone and hang up. However, Leah barely has time to rest it that it starts ringing again, making Leah frown.
"She knows I’m training, why is she insisting like that?"
The question is said aloud, but it could just as well be pronounced in his head. However, this would not have allowed Katie to respond.
"Maybe an emergency?"
"Didn’t you tell me Y/N was with her this morning?" intervenes Lia.
The captain’s face breaks down a little and she quickly picks up at this welcome reminder of her friend.
"Mom?"
"Baba don’t freak out, but we’re at the hospital. Y/N’s water just broke."
"I’m… I’m coming"
Just after hanging up, panic seizes Leah who gathers her belongings by embarking half of those belonging to Viv in passing. Miraculously her teammates manage to understand what she explains to them and Lia intervenes quickly, with all the calm and sweetness that characterizes her.
"I’m driving you, there's no way you’re driving in this state."
After refusing that the entire team accompanies them ("It’s a birth, not a summer camp"), it's finally with Alessia and Katie that Lia accompanies Leah to the right hospital. It's finally a good thing that the Swiss woman decided to accompany Leah, she would surely have managed to go to the wrong maternity.
"Leah breathe" Katie says from the back seat.
"Easy to say! If things go wrong? In addition, the baby is early! What if he doesn't survive this?"
"Wasn't the expected delivery date the December 12?" asks Lia, bowing her eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Leah, we’re the 7" Alessia gently intervened.
"So what?"
"I swear to God that if this child inherits your drama rate, I’ll get him enrolled in drama classes" says Katie, sighing at length.
In the room you’re in, time seems long without Leah. Amanda keeps you company until your wife gets here, but between the pain and the stress, you don’t look too good.
"You’re doing very well darling" your mother-in-law gently makes you, to whom you address a smile-grimace.
Fortunately, a few minutes later Leah finally makes her appearance, dressed in a sky blue outfit that you saw a thousand times in Grey’s Anatomy. The relief is so great when you see her come that tears rise to your eyes. Focused on Leah, you don’t even realize that Amanda is taking the powder.
"My Love" whispers Leah as she lays a kiss on your forehead.
Leah tenderly caresses your face while listening to the nurse’s information and you relax as much as possible. You didn’t hesitate for a second when you were asked if you wanted peridulral. You willingly let other women be brave, but you, no thanks.
The hours pass, both slow and fast. Leah does her best to relieve, relax or change your mind. She’s perfect, once again.
It's only around 2am that your baby’s cry finally sounds in the delivery room, after long hours of labor. You can’t tell which of the three of you cried the most when your little miracle is lying on your chest, Leah sitting next to you in bed.
A little blonde hair down, quickly covered with a hat, and baby blue piercing eyes as light as Leah's are the first features you discover in your perfect baby. Just like you hopped.
"So, what will you call this little angel?" the nurse ask you.
"Charlie. Her name is Charlie" Leah mumble, a big smile on her face. "Charlie Amanda Williamson."
844 notes · View notes
pixiesfz · 6 months
Text
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blessing in disguise j.r
plot: Jill tore her acl but she's just glad she gets to spend more time with the new physio
warnings: none atm
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It was your first week as a new physio when Jill tore her ACL, your eyes widened when you heard "How many ACLs have happened this year?" you ask your co-worker Ally as you walked to the room, she was seeing Chloe Kelly as you were to see Jill "too many".
You were laughing at a joke when you opened the door. Jill was already sitting down, still tired from her surgery but her eyes widened when she saw you.
Your smile was beautiful and your hair flowed behind you, you held a coffee and files from Jill's hospital surgeon. You had on a man city jumper and your own jeans which Jill is embarrassed to say fit you quite nicely.
"Hi I'm Y/n and I'll be your personal physio during these 9 months" You introduced yourself with a handshake which Jill accepted "are you new I've never seen you before," she asked and you nodded your head "I just started last week" you smiled and Jill smirked "Sorry for interrupting your slow start"
You laughed as you set up your set "honestly it's fine but I am sorry about your ACL" you frowned as both your eyes fell to her knee which was covered by a nude bandage.
"I would say it's okay but it's really not" Jill said with a shrug and you nodded "It's not ideal but with lot's of therapy and check ups I plan to have you out on the field as soon as I can" you smiled.
"So before I poke at your delicate knee how about we learn about each other a nice ice breaker" you suggested, grabbing a chair and sitting in front of Jill who nodded.
"Do you have any pets?" she asked and you shook your head "Not yet but I plan to" you said "Do you like it here in Manchester?" you asked and she nodded "It's really nice and different from Germany".
You grew comfortable with Jill quite quickly as she did with you and as you passed her the crutches and helped her up she looked back at you "I thought of one more question" she announced "shoot"
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
You couldn't help the slight blush that spread across your cheek "No, especially no boyfriend but as of now I'm single" You smiled before you both bid goodbye.
You met with Ally after your shift as you ate fast food at a random beach near the City head quarters.
"Chloe just kept on talking about her wedding plans it was funny" she laughed and looked at you for information "Jill asked me if I had a boyfriend" you laughed and Ally slapped your leg and you winced "what was that for?" you asked, rubbing your leg.
"She was so hitting on you!"
You rolled your eyes "no she wasn't she was probably just intrigued" you told her and Ally gave you a pointed look before mummbling "intrigued to get in your pants"
This time you hit her.
"Ow!"
Jill was sitting and watching training when Chloe sat next to her "So did you meet the new physio, what she like?" she asked and Jill blushed.
hot. she thought.
"She's really nice, I just apologized that her first job was an ACL she didn't really mind though" Jill told the blonde who nodded "Is she pretty?" Kelly asked and Jill looked at her "Why would that matter?"
"Because you are lonely and it's sad to watch"
Jill raised her eyebrows at her friend's confession before Mary and Kerstin came over and agreed with her.
"Okay well to answer your question, yes she is very pretty" Jill shared with blushed cheeks "but she is also my physio and not my girlfriend"
"That's how all love stories start!" Mary smiled with joy and her national teammate just patted her non injured knee.
"ga er gewoon voor, als je het verprutst, zijn er andere fysio's" Kerstin shrugged and Jill covered her mouth in shock of her words "I am not dating the new physio!" she said in shock.
(just go for it, if you fuck it up just go to another physio)
“I don’t know what you just said” Mary frowned at her friend before they all walked off with smiles.
For Jill’s next appointments with you her little crush had turned into a big crush and you can’t say that you didn’t feel the same.
The blonde Dutch girl was beautiful and you constantly left the room with a smile and red cheeks.
When Jill’s next appointment with you arrived she couldn’t help but blush at the sight of you, you were still in your uniform but your hair was brushed up into a pony tail that showed off your cheek bones.
“How does it feel?” You asked and Jill just nodded “it’s alright to walk now” she said and you smiled “that’s amazing Jill” you told her and she smiled.
“I wanna see you walk, just incase I see a bend or something that I can help you with” you said as you held your clipboards.
“Right now?” Jill asked and you nodded “we can walk up to a coffee shop nearby, I haven’t had my coffee yet and it will be beneficial” you smiled and Jill laughed at your excuse to get a coffee.
“Do you need to see me walk or are you using me to get coffee?” she smirked and you breathed in
“Would it be bad if I said both?”
You and Jill were laughing together as she started walking and you filmed for her tik tok she wanted to make.
“I’m really proud of you Jill this is great” you told her and she blushed but thankfully it was cold so she could blame it on the weather.
You both got your coffee and sat down together, to anybody nearby it would look like a date.
“How bout some more fun facts about each other?” Jill suggested and you nodded your head. “I have two dogs, both cocker spaniels” you smiled “what are their names?” Jill asked you smiled “well one’s name is Rocky and the other one is named Shaggy”
“Shaggy!?”
“My sister named him not me!” You defended yourself as you both laughed.
“Okay what about you?” You asked the blonde who thought for a second “I’m kind of happy to at I’m injured”
You were shocked and cocked your head “why, you can’t play the sport you love?”
“Yeah but you get to try new things and meet new people” she explained and you smiled “I guess you would have never met me”
“Exactly” she responded and you blushed.
For the next couple of months not either of you had made a move which was weird to all of your friends.
“She definitely likes you back Jill”
“Y/n I swear to god if you do not ask her out I will injure you”
Ally was a bit more forward than the city girls.
It wasn’t until your sessions with Jill were coming to an end she realised that she really had to make a move on you but she really didn’t know how to.
After all maybe you were just really nice to her because you had to.
It was your job.
But when they did end and she made her way back onto the field it was always you she looked for in the crowd or next to the bench with your take away coffee in hand.
“I think I rolled my ankle” Jill told you as she saw you walking in the head quarters, your brows rose “well where does it hurt, do you want me to bandage it?” You asked and the girl nodded as you took her to your room.
“This is your third rolled ankle in two weeks Jill I’m not sure you can play” you tutted as you went away at your computer, writing down about her visits.
Jill rolled her head back.
Couldn’t you just get the hint.
“Is it a certain drill that you keep doing that-“
“I didn’t roll my ankle y/n” Jill interrupted you and you furrowed your brows “I was about to write you off for the game Jill!” You told her “why on earth would you lie about that?”
Jill felt small as you looked at her with mostly concern but you also had anger as she had lied to you but know she was forced to tell the truth.
“Well I like hanging out with you”
Your face softened and the dutches words “You don’t have to be injured to talk to me” you told her and she shrugged “I guess I was too scared”
“You? You scoff “scared?”
Jill laughed “oh cmon when you ask your crush out it’s hard”
Your cheeks blushed “so I’m a crush?”
Jill’s eyes popped and her cheeks reddened “I didn’t mean to say it out loud” she panicked
You just smiled and placed the tape that you were going to place on her down “I get it, asking your crush out is hard, that’s why I haven’t asked you out yet”
Jill turned to you with a smirk “So I’m a crush?”
“Shut up” you laughed and wiped your hands on your pants “y/n?” Jill asked and you looked up “yes Jill?”
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
You smiled “I would love to”
273 notes · View notes
oneofthetorturedpoets · 6 months
Text
keep on pretending pretty girl.
part 2
It's been three months since you and Regina started dating. No one knew about it and Regina made sure of that. Every rumor she shut down and every whisper she shut up. At first you didn't mind, you actually wanted it too, but then there were rumors that Regina was hooking up with Aaron in the third floor janitorial closet and that worried you. You knew that she dumped Aaron that same day she got with you but you also know that she has a history of cheating. She excuses it as her not knowing she was gay yet, but you're not sure if that's entirely true.
When you got the text that Regina was on her way to her college prep class, you waited about 15 minutes before marching your way up the stairs. With each step, your anxiety grew. Would Regina cheat on you? The thought kept circling your mind.
You reach the door, pulling it open to reveal a dark empty closet. You feel relief fall off of your shoulders. She wasn't lying to you.
-
'come over, we need to talk.' You got the message from Regina, right when you were getting ready for bed. You sighed, texting her back that you'll be right there.
In 20 minutes you were knocking on her front door, waiting to be let in. Regina's mom answers the door, not at all shocked to see you with how often you come over. "Hey girl! How are you? I'm so happy you're here, there was-" Regina is already right there, pulling you away from her mom and up the stairs.
Regina practically throws you on her bed. "I heard you were checking the janitor closets to see if I was cheating on you?" Anger laces her tone.
"I was, I'm sorry, I should've trusted you." You say, the words coming out worse than you want.
She scoffs. "Why didn't you? I haven't done anything for you not to trust me!"
You stand back up. "It's not that I don't trust you! It's the fact that we are hiding our relationship for no good reason!"
She shakes her head, walking to the other side of the room. "You know my status, if everyone found out-" It was your turn to be mad.
"They would what? Make fun of you?" You yell back.
"Yes!" The room fell silent. "wait, I didn't mean it like that" You turn around, walking out of her room. "Y/n, wait." You storm down the stairs.
"Maybe we can work this out when you're not embarrassed of me, Regina." You slam her door, walking to your car.
-
The next day was luckily Saturday so you wouldn't have to see Regina. That didn't stop her from blowing up your phone.
That day you just thought back to every time you interacted with her in school. She would look past you every time you saw her in the hallway. She would make sure to pick you up the next block over so no one saw you two together. She refused to sit next to you in class or be partnered up with you. To everyone else, it looked like she hated you. You knew that you were two very different people but for her to be embarrassed to be seen with you?
-
You saw Regina walking in to school that next Monday. You could tell that she wanted to talk to you but she stopped herself. Clearly still embarrassed by you.
-
Around fifth period, Regina pulled you into one of the closets. "Y/n, please-"
you genuinely laugh at her. "You can't even attempt to talk to me in public still... after our huge fight, nothing has changed? God Regina, you're hopeless." you walk out of the room, Regina follows.
"Y/n, I'm sorry. I am not embarrassed of loving you, I want everyone to see how much I really do love you." Regina pulls you by your wrist, causing you to turn towards her. She tugs you closer, interlocking your lips. You melt into her, all of your anger and sadness washing off of you. Everyone is taking pictures and recording but you couldn't care less. "Please forgive me, y/n. I didn't mean to make you feel like I was embarrassed by you." You just shake your head, pulling her in to kiss you. Glad you're able to kiss her in public and not feel like you're doing something wrong.
-
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 4 months
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Moi Devochki: Chapter 7
Warnings: talk of trauma, panic attack, smut (blowjob)
Word count: 2632
WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Moi Devochki Masterlist
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When Natasha wakes a few hours later she isn’t quite sure what woke her, but then it hits her. One of her Omegas isn’t in the nest and in her rut she's more prone to missing their presence. Plus with them in heat, where else would they be?
   She rubs the sleep from her eyes as her senses focus. Wanda was peacefully sleeping, curled into the Alphas side. Her heart begins to race as she realizes you are the Omega she's missing. She can feel her chest move rapidly as she sucks in air, her head swiveling around the room as she desperately tries to locate you.
   Her instincts and fears claw at her mind when she still can't find you. She gently untangles herself from her other Omega, and makes her way from the nest. Your scent was still in the room and she couldn’t smell any Alphas, these were good signs but considering everything that's happened she was still worried.
  Then she hears you, your whines coming from the bathroom. Her feet carry her fast as she makes her way to you. She slowly opens the bathroom door, not wanting to frighten you. You're in the far corner, practically curled in a ball and trembling. She carefully makes her way over to you, allowing you to breathe in her scent so you're aware she's in the room.
  "Y/n, my Omega, what's wrong?" she softly asks, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. You flinch away from her, letting out another whine. Her brows furrow, her instincts tell her to comfort you and so do your whines, yet you dont allow her to touch you. “Medovyy(Honey), it's me. It’s your Alpha.”
   That seems to get through to you and your head lifts to look at her, “Tasha?”
   “Can I touch you?” she asks. You hesitate to answer, not sure if your Alphas presence would help to sooth you or make things worse. 
   “I..I don’t know.” you admit, despite craving her touch
   You don’t miss the sadness that shows on her face at your words, “That's ok. Can you tell me what happened that distressed you so much?”
   “I had a nightmare. Steve was in it and I got scared. I wanted to ask you to comfort me but because I thought of you I felt the need to mate hit me. I don’t think my mind could handle the conflicting emotions because I started to have a panic attack, so I came in here not wanting to wake you or Wanda.”  you explain
   “Oh, my sweet Omega.” she says, sadness on her face, “I’m so sorry he hurt you like this. I wish there was something I could do to make it all better.”
   You whine and tremble again, your instincts begging you to be with your Alpha in some way. It takes everything in Nat to fight against her instincts that tell her to hold you, protect you and scent you. She doesn't want to make things worse for you, but keeping her distance during her rut was going to be nearly impossible.
  “C-can you hold me, please?” you ask, a quiver in your voice
   Her eyes light up, “You're sure?”
   “Yes. I need to know I’m safe, and need to be reminded that I'm yours. Please.” you reply
   She carefully scoops you into her lap and settles onto the bathroom floor. You bury your head into her neck, breathing in her thick leather scent. She croons to help you relax as her strong arms hold you close. 
   “I’ve got you. He won’t ever touch you again. You're my Omega, my mate. I’m right here, I’m not letting you go.” she tells you
   You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding upon hearing her soothing words. You settle deeper into her embrace and find yourself settling down, your mind no longer focused on Steve but on your loving Alpha.
   Natasha is glad to feel you relax in her hold, but she's very worried about you. She didn’t like that you were hurting so much and dealing with so many conflicting emotions during your heat because of your recent trauma. Although she worries about how Wanda will react she knows she has to bring up pups again. Only this time it will be about waiting to have them. She knew her other Omega would want to be with pup at the same time you were, and with everything going on it became very clear you weren’t in a good place for that. It wouldn't be safe or fair to you to have you carry pups while so distressed and the last thing your Alpha would do is harm you in any way.
   A whine from the other room pulls the Alpha from her thoughts. The absence of her mates must have awoken the other Omega.
  “Alpha? Omega?” she calls out, voice sounding unsure and confused.
   You nod against the Alphas chest, letting her know that whatever she chose to do would be ok. You were aware Wanda needed her right now as much as you did. Nat stands, making sure she has a solid grasp on you before walking out of the bathroom and back towards the nest.
   “We’re right here dorogoy(sweetheart).” she says, “I’m sorry I had to leave you alone, Y/n needed me.”
   She sits up as Nat settles into the nest, you still on her lap, “Are you ok, detka(baby)?” 
   “Better now.” you answer, feeling Wandas hand gently caressing your back
   “She had a nightmare about...him” your Alpha tells her. The Omega knows who the ‘him’ in question is and she's glad her Alpha didn’t say his name. She hates hearing it and hates him, after all he's done to you.
   She cuddles into Nats side, resting against your back.  She wraps her arms around you, “You're safe here with us, my love. Natasha will keep you safe, and so will I.” You relax further into them, letting your Alpha scent you as you drift back off into sleep once more.
   When the Alpha awakes next it's well into morning, and Wandas scent is rolling off her in waves. The Omega tosses restlessly in her sleep as the ache of her heat sets in, her body craves her Alpha, her Alphas knot. Her heart craves her Omega, her Omegas touch. She turns and clutches at Nats arm as a needy whine leaves her.
   Even in sleep your body quickly reacts to the scent of your Omega, pumping out your scent to match hers. From where you still lay on top of your Alpha, she can feel you stir slightly as you let out a whine of your own.
   Natasha can feel her cock begin to harden as the scent of both her Omegas assault her senses. Her instincts beg her to bury her knott deep in her whining and needy mates and fill them with her seed, but she knows she has to wait. She has to make sure they're actually awake, not to mention she still has to talk to both of you about waiting to have pups and therefore figuring out what contraceptive to use. 
   “Omegas.” she hums, “My Omegas, wake up moi devochki(my girls).” she practically begs
    You stir on her chest immediately when you hear her tone. Her scent invades your nose as you take in her hooded eyes with blown pupils and the large bulge in her sweatpants.
   You smile, “Does our Alpha need her Omegas to help with something?” you ask as you palm her cock
   “Fuck, Y/n…” she breathes out, before sucking in a deep breath as your hands go to her waistband, “My Omega, w-wait”
   Your eyes look up at her, “Did I do something wrong?”
   “N-no medovyy(honey), I just..” she takes a deep breath to clear the fogginess from her brain, “I think the three of us need to have a conversation first.”
  You can feel your anxieties take over. Maybe she didn’t want you anymore after realizing how close Steve had been to claiming you. Maybe having two mates was too much for her and she preferred Wanda.
   “Do you not want me anymore?” you ask, barley even a whisper
   Her hands immediately cup your face, “Of course I want you my Omega. I want you so bad.” she admits as she brings your forehead to rest against hers
   She can feel your chest rumble against hers as you purr, happy with the closeness and her words. Her thumbs rub your cheeks as she soaks up the sound. She feels a sudden shift beside her, and soon Wandas face is nuzzled into the crook of her neck.
   “Good morning my loves.” she whispers, her accent thick
   “Morning baby.” you reply, causing a smile to appear on her face as she reaches for you. You gladly grab her hand, lacing your fingers between hers.
   Your Alpha turns her head, placing a small kiss to Wandas temple, “Good morning dorogoy(sweetheart).”
  Wanda can see the Alphas hooded eyes and smell her arousal causing a wave of want to flow through her. “Alpha” she whines
   “I know love, I want you both too. Very badly. But can we all talk first?” Nat asks
   You and Wanda nod, both sitting back from her a bit so her scent wasn't as strong, allowing you both to concentrate on what she wants to say. You watch as the Alpha shakes her head before running a hand through her hair in an attempt to free the fog from her mind. You're not sure how well it works considering the bulge in her sweats still shows and her scent is still one of pure want.
   “I know we discussed trying for pups, but I think we need to re address that.” she admits, upon seeing the looks on her Omegas faces she quickly continues, “Not because I don’t want them. Please know that I would be happy to have pups with you, moi devochki(my girls). I just think it's best if we wait a bit longer. Y/n, your trauma is still recent and you're still dealing with that, and though I’m glad to help you through it however you need I am worried about you. You're under so much stress, I don’t want it to cause you or unborn pups any pain, health problems or worse…”
   Wanda takes a moment before speaking, “Our Alpha is right detka(baby). You need time to heal before we start our family, not just for the safety of future pups but for yourself.” She turns her attention to Nat, “I can wait, I want to have our pups at the same time.”
   “I anticipated that to be your answer” she says with a smile, “That's perfectly fine. We can try for pups during your next heat, ok loves?” Wanda nods but you look away from them, worried this means your Alpha won’t mate with you because of the risks, with Wanda there were risks too but should it accidentally happen she was in a spot where she could still care for them appropriately. 
   “Does that mean you won’t mate with me, Alpha?” you quietly ask
   She shakes her head, “I would never hurt you in such a way, especially during your heat.” her hand cups your cheek, “It just means we have to use protection of some kind”
   You lean into her touch, “Can we use pills? I still wanna be able to feel you fill me.” 
   “I want that too” Wanda agrees 
   A groan escapes her, “God, yes. We can use whatever you want to, I just have to text Yelena and get her to buy them for us.” She pulls out her phone and quickly relays the information to her sister, who of course teases her before agreeing to go get the items. She sets her phone down with a sigh, she really needed release soon so Yelena better hurry.
   As if you had read her mind, you come to the same conclusion. Your Alpha needs release and you want to make her feel good. You glance over at your Omega and give her the ‘read my thoughts’ look. She does so and smirks at you.
   You each place a hand on her thighs, gently caressing them as you both move towards the waistband of her pants. You can feel her muscles tighten beneath your touch as her breathing picks up. Her hips jerk as you slowly begin to pull her pants down, her eyes slam  shut and she takes a deep breath to remain calm.
   A sound that's a mix between a grunt and needy whine leaves your Alpha, “P-please Omegas….we h-have to wait.”
   “Its ok Alpha, let us take care of you” Wanda tells her
   Her brows furrow, “But-
   “Tasha, it’s ok.” you assure her, “Let us show you what our mouths can do.”
   If she wasn’t already hard, she would have been after hearing that. She relaxes under the touch of her Omegas, opening her eyes once more to watch you both. She lifts her hips to allow you to slide her sweats down, her boxers following after. Her cock looks painfully hard as it stands tall, waiting to be touched. A shaky sigh leaves her as your tongue gently licks her tip, collecting the precum that had begun to leak out.
   You hum, wrapping your lips around her as you begin to take her into your mouth. Her hips jerk slightly as Wanda begins to kiss and suck around the base of her member. A moan leaves her as you take her even deeper, the noises you both make turning her on even more.
   “Yes, fuck….just like that” she says as she buries her hands in your and Wandas hair, pulling you both closer.
   She moans again, her head falling back slightly as the two of you begin to purr around her, the vibrations she feels adding to her pleasure. Your head bobs up and down at a decent pace as Wanda continues to tease her, peppering her thighs and lower abs with kisses while sucking marks.
   Natasha begins to thrust her hips upwards into your mouth, her cock pulsing as her orgasm approaches. Your eyes glance up, locking with hers as she moans again. Wanda can feel the Alphas muscles tense, knowing she's close she goes to join you. Your Alpha makes a noise that you recognize, you pull back towards her tip as her knot begins to expand. Grunts leave her as her seed spills into your mouth, you swallow as much as possible before you let your Omega take your place. She graciously takes all that Nat gives her before her knot deflates.
   The Alpha looks down at you both, “That was amazing my Omegas. Such good girls taking care of your Alpha.”
   You both purr at the praises, smiles on your faces as she pulls you up to her chest. You both snuggle into her as she covers you both in her scent. Her one hand rubs your back as the other runs through Wandas hair. The three of you relax for a few minutes before she can hear a rustling outside the main door.
  Her shoulders tense as she takes a defensive position within the nest. Her scent becomes stronger as her upper lip forms a snarl. But before she can get too worked up her phone pings, a text from Yelena telling her to calm down and that the pills are in a bag near the door. The tension seeps from her at the knowledge that there's no immediate threat. 
   She smiles down at the two, “Wait here while I grab your pills. Then your Alpha is going to reward you.”
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penelope-potter · 4 months
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How Did You Know This Feeling?~
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel/ Helluva Boss Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Owl Hybrid! Reader + (Stolas x Reader) Summary: You are very good friends with the Owl King Stolas. However, after a while he called you over for a shoulder to cry on because of his heartbreak from Blitzo. You were gone straight away to help your dear friend, but not leaving your own crush Alastor slightly jealous, so he follows you. Warnings: No one
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You sat on the couch, next to an old antic telephone. You sighed. Charlie came up with the great idea to bring a phone inside the lobby, in hope that more sinners were about to call and check in. You didn't really liked the idea of letting other filthy demons who might not take all this seriously in, but the princess of hell seemed so eager about this, so you just volunteered to be the secretary in hope to tell if there are false tongues under it. Now you regret it, because for at least the twentieths time some dickhead called, only to laugh at you for being so stupid and open up a hotel. You were more cursing and screaming into the phone than to actually take a new resident in. Charlie stood there for a while, nervously tapping with her foot and biting her nails. "I think it was a bad idea..." She said finally, after you slammed the listener back to it’s station. You took in a deep breath before turning to her, smiling thin. "No Charlie it was a good idea. But it was obvious that this were going to happen or?" She just nodded. "I just thought that would be easier to actually bring more sinners to our hotel..." She said again, a sad expression on her face. You sighed and got up. "Don't be so sad, you know I can't take that." You smiled and hugged her side. "You know, Someday someone who actually feel like redeeming will call. And I will be there to guide them to us. After I inspected them of course." She smiled with big eyes at you, wiping around her right eye to hide the tear which was slipping out. "You sure you want to continue the job? You sounded very angry a few minutes ago..." "Noo, I just got a bit emotional that's all..." You laughed and waved it off. She was right, it pissed you off in every way possible. But you didn't wanted to disappoint her, so- how bad could this job be, sitting around and arguing with some wanna-be-sinners? "Alright. Thank you (Y/N)." "Anytime."
You smiled and went back to your little cozy place. Today was a calm, quite day. You placed a notebook, a pen and your already third tea on the table in front of the sofa and watched the phone silently. It was Alastor's he brought in one day after Charlie told him so. You didn't know if it was an actual phone which was for sale anywhere or just a magic appearance of his. However, you liked it. It was red and blue with golden ornaments, and it reminded you a bit of Stolas. You saw him rarely since you met him. You also never got the chance to change numbers, so you would have to travel a mile to visit him. After a while the phone ringed again, and you jumped slightly. Great, another dumb ass. You sighed and took the receiver to your ear. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where sinners are going to be winners in no time! How can I help you?" You said in a placed on cheery voice and rolled your eyes, ready to scream at anyone who might as well fuck you up today. "(Y/N)? Oh for hell's sake I'm so glad to hear from you!" You knew this voice. "Stolas? Is- is it you?" You sat up and your smile grew wider. "Of course! I wanted to call you so much earlier but I couldn't find a way to contact you..."
The two of you talked for hours it seemed, you, already forgetting that you're technically at work and blocked the whole line, but you just hoped that no one who actually wanted to be redeemed, was in line waiting. You didn't even realized that a certain demon appeared right behind you in the room, curious looking over at you, wondering with who you might talk so happily about. After a while he recognize the way you talked with them and his smile stiffened. Stolas. It was not as if he didn't liked you, having a friend of high royalty. It wasn't the fact that you seemed to be so light headed around him, talking with him for so long already, you shifted the receiver to your other hand, and it definitely wasn't the fact that he was a bit jealous of him. He shook his head surprised. Why does he fretting about some demon king talking with you? It drove him insane how you made him feel. You talked with him too, and you could also share long talk sessions. But it never was this exiting like it was with him. He noticed how your expression looked like, so relaxed and calm. You played with the cable string of the phone, and your leg was bouncing up and down from the couch rest. With him you always were stiffed, attentive and careful. You laughed too, but there was always something holding you back to be your whole true self. Oh how badly he wanted you to talk with him like you did with Stolas. He wanted you to swing your legs over his armchair, and title your head to your side, playing with a book of his shelf which was long forgotten or to grab his arm in excitement. He only realized how hard he grabbed his cane, as his fingers began to shake. "Oh...I'm so sorry Stolas. I didn't knew that he's feeling this...kind of way about you." His ears peeked up. You shifted your body down to place your elbow on your knee. You listened for a while until he went a few steps up to his left to see your expression. It was sad, understanding. Like you always were when someone is having a bad day. You were always the one someone could go to when they have a problem. You were an angel, and god knows why you end up here.
You started to play with the cable string again, but this time more stiffened. "Please don't cry. I-I would love to help you somehow...yes I know, I know..." He came closer until he was standing a few feet behind the couch. "Okay you know what? I will talk to my boss Charlie if I can take two days off and come to your place." And instant urge of madness flowed inside him and his smile twitched at the edges. You were about to visit him? All alone among the sinners? It was not like he didn't trusted you in your ability to help yourself, but it made him uncomfortable letting you go alone. He wanted to keep you safe, no matter what. Another thing what was going on inside him for the second you walked through the doors of the hotel. He started to think that he grew some kind of attachment for you... "Don't worry Stolas. I'll talk with her. It's only two days." You said goodbye to him and hang on. As you turned around you jumped and let out a terrified gasp. "Al! Geez don't scare me like that!" His heart fluttered by the nickname you gave him. "Oh I'm sorry sweetheart, I just came by and heard you talking. Who was it, a sinner?" He asked Innocent, your body already stiffened up. He could scratch his nails on the soft fabric of the couch rest. "No it was Stolas. My- my friend. Poor thing, he is heart broken because of his unrequired love for Blitzo..." You said, he noticed your also sad expression. "I don't want him to feel that way, so I will talk to Charlie if I can have two days off, so I can give him company." It costs his best to stay calm, and not letting his anger took the hand over him. You didn't done anything wrong, it was him who was the problem. "Oh that's unfortunate to hear. But don't you think it's a long way to his palace only for two days? You already need a day to walk to him alone..." He said, the grip on his cane more harder than usual you thought. "Uhm yes I know, but when I leave today, I might be there by him till daytime so-" "Don't you think he can handle this...problem on his own?" He said, his smile wider and his eyes more narrowed to slits. You could feel your heart skipped a beat. Obviously he couldn't know- he doesn't love anyone and never got his heart broken then. The fact that he's saying this to the person who loves him and knows exactly how it feels like being trapped in a one sided love, only makes it worse. "No he can't Alastor." You said slightly angered, his eyes opened up a bit surprised. "It's not so easy as you might think. I know that you don't understand those feelings, and be glad about it. But let me tell you it's not a joke." You sighed. "It really feels like someone is about to rib your heart out of your chest, and the worst thing about is that you love this person anyway..." You ended your sentence only for him to grew more curious. "How did you know that feeling so well sweetheart?"
You stared at him blankly, your head empty and not a single thought seemed to enter your mind for him to give. The only thing that came close to was Fuck, but you couldn’t give this to him now. “I…” You started as the door flew open and Angel came in together with Husk. They looks darted to you and their chatter got quite in an instant. “Sorry, we interrupting?” Husk asked, more you than him. “Uhm n-no not at all!” You said jumping off the sofa. “Do you know where Charlie is?” You changed the subject, while you could feel the look from the demon behind you stabbing holes in your back. “Uhm she’s in the kitchen, trying some new stuff…” Angel said, and looked between Alastor and you, clearly smelling the thick air. “Thank you!” You turned on your heels and gave the deer demon just a slightly side eye. “I’m sorry, can we talk later?” You had to admit, this was the shittiest idea that ever popped into your mind. What is he going to think about you now? You found Charlie in the kitchen, and you talked with her. “Your friend Stolas? Oh no I’m so sorry for him!” She said and nodded understanding. You told her that you really wanted to help him, and that you asked her to give you two days off. She agreed, you knew she would. Bless her soul. After a while you told the others that you would be gone, still feeling a bit guilty for reject your new task, but Charlie told you it was okay. The sinners need their time anyway. Alastor was always at your side, next to you at the dinner table and even as you packed some things into an old backpack that looked similar to the one you had when you were alive. “Are you sure this will do their need?” He asked, standing in the door and tapping your backpack with the tip of his cane. “I just stay for two days, this is more than I need.” You said, glad that he didn’t insist on his question. Well, you couldn’t just tell him that he was the problem why you knew this kind of pain don’t you? “You are probably right dearest…” You smiled softly at his words. He always calls you differently than the others. I’ts always dearest instead of dear. It’s sweetheart and not darling. You felt special. A little too special maybe. The sting in your heart grew bigger with each second you thought about it and with each step you took with him outside to the lobby to in front of the hotel doors. “Well...I think I’m going now-” “I have to interrupt you sweetheart.” He said, holding up his index finger. “Why?” You asked. “I would be a total fool for letting you go this way all alone.”
Your heart began to race. “O-oh, oh you don’t have to come with me Al. I know you’re busy and- and well I know the way…” Alastor shook his head. “I couldn’t bear the guilt for letting you go alone only to find you tortured by some kind of filthy sinners or Overlords…” “I can protect myself Al.” “Oh I never doubt this. But what gentleman would I be, when I don’t walk my dearest girl to her friend?” His smile grew a bit softer and thinner until he gave you a mouth-closed smile. His eyes were filled with something you could spot as admiration, but you quickly shook this thought off. It was your imagination running wild again, nothing else. “Alright then.” He was happy about your accepting, you could see it in the way his eyes widened. You’ve spent enough time to admire him for afar, studying his features like a little girl with her first crush. It also felt like he is the only true love you ever experienced. Too bad it was all in your head and nothing real. You enjoyed the walk with him, even though you tried constantly your hardest to keep your heart in a steady beat and prayed he didn’t noticed the racing of your veins against his arm as he offered it to you for you to cling in. He was warm against you, even through his coat. He was taller than you which was nothing new, he was taller than the most of the sinners. His smile was easy, his eyes relaxed an a bit lidded like the explanation of bedroom eyes, which made him look ironically more attractive. If he would stand in your room like this, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself… You turned your gaze away from him in embarrassment. “Tell me sweetheart, you didn’t answered my question earlier…” You heart skipped a beat as you tried your hardest to look at a building with a bright neon font spelling: “Step on Me.” “Oh yes well…” You turned your head in his direction. You had to come up with a solution, and it have to be a damn good one so he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Why do you want to know this so bad?” You awkwardly asked, as he just blinked. “Hmm...I really want to know who I have to kill for making you feel this way…” He entangled his fingers to sharp claws. You love his hands. The sharp nails always managed to run shivers down your spine whenever he touches you. You would have laughed at his words, because he would have to kill himself to actually hold his word. “No. No you better not…” You said laughing. “No come on, you can trust me dearest. I’m almost offended that you won’t tell me.” “I just could have guessed how it feels like don’t I?” “Nonsense, I saw the look on your face. After all you are not hard to read sweetest. Even though I adore this in you, this could also be your dead end. In this world…” He suddenly came incredible close to you as he stopped you in your walking. “I wouldn’t want you to feel those things sweetest. So, could you tell me? Please?”
His gaze and the fact that he actually said ‘please’ to you, only you made your heart stutter and your breath irregular. “Hmm...maybe I’ll tell you when I’m back. What about that?” You tried to be teasing, and he titled his head with a grin but also slightly annoyance. “Promise me~?” He sung and the desire to grab his face in your hands was almost unbearable. “Yes...promised.” You two continued standing in the middle of the streets, in the Lust Ring, and staring at each other. You two were the odd picture in the middle of filthy, dirty minded heads who are more interested in fucking another than to actually love another. You stared at him with so much love in your eyes that it made his heart sting. You were so pure. He could never understand the desire to touch anybody's body in certain ways, not in his live or in this afterlife as well. And it changed completely when he’s looking at you right now. Suddenly he felt the urge to wrap his arms around you, to smell your scent which were always around him whenever you were near, to trade kisses along your neck. Nothing like the things those filthy, perverted creatures in this ring might crave, but a loving gesture what this act is all about. He truly loved you. And it hit him deeper than the bullet with he was shot. His heart began to race and suddenly he was very aware of the close distance between you both so he stepped back a bit. “Well then...I look forward to hear the answer from you when I lead you back.” He said now in a raspy voice. The static almost completely gone, you shuddered. “Oh you don’t have to do this Al. I know you don’t like this place and the other neither…” He waved it off, his claws only inches away from your shoulder as he grabbed you gently on your upper back. “That is alright. I don’t have to stay here, I just travel right through it. Don’t break your pretty little head about it.” You gave him a crooked smile as you two walked further. By the time you got more relaxed, slowly becoming the person you really are. His heart fluttered in excitement. Your wings spread towards the sky as you told him a story how you met Stolas the first time. The blue neon lights hits you on the right spots, your face was so bright in this moment and your wings had a silver shimmer in it. The black of your heart shaped antlers reminded him of black gold, and your eyes...the animalistic it brought with it, and your real eye color was breathtaking. You looked like a goddess. Finally there, you thanked him again for walking with you. “I see you in two days. But don’t think I’ll ignore your broadcasts because I’ll still listen to them.” You laughed and he smiled, and his smile reached his eyes completely. “Oh I do hope so sweetheart!” He placed his hands on the top of his cane. “I wish you luck for making your friend feel better…” At the mention of Stolas his eyes got the mix of darkness. Was he jealous? “Yes me too…” You smiled at him. “Well then-” “Can I ask you one more thing before you go?” You stopped him, why did you stopped him? It was the question which itched you more than anything right now. “Yes dearest?”
You hesitated. “Why do you call me differently than the others? Not that I don’t like it, it’s just…” You stopped. Messing with your heart. “Unusual.” He had to thought for a moment because he stood still and avoided your gaze. Instead he looked at the sky. “Well… you are different from the others. So I might like to call you different names.” He looked back at you again, and you almost jumped at the sight of him. His red eyes a warm cherry red, and his pupils dilated. “Those phrases were nothing rare from the decade I came from…” He walked to you a few steps until he stood right before you. “Sweetheart was used for someone you found dearly…” He took your chin in his hands. “Dearest was for someone you laid an eye on for a long time…” He pulled your face closer to his, and took his time to scan your features. “And sugar…” He looked at your lips for a brief second before locking eyes with you again. “Was for someone you were in love with. The young boys would call them baby but I find sugar is much more fitting for you.” You forget how to breath until you could feel your head heated up so you just smiled shyly. “O-okay...that’s interesting to hear. You know how much I love your timeline…” You said. It was the truth you like the time he was from. But the sudden touch was more than enough to make you completely flustered already. He chuckled. “Yes I know…” He titled his head and swung on his heels. “Well then, I’ll see you in two days. Remember, when anything goes wrong and the king will not be able to protect you from it, just call my name and I will be here. I will hear it.” He said, looking over his shoulder. “Yes...yes sure. Goodbye.” “Goodbye. Sugar.” Your smile was replaced with shock as he was swallowed up by his demons in an instant. As you walked in to Stolas palace you immediately got hugged from your owl friend. “Oh (Y/N) I’m so happy you are here right now!” You rubbed his back. “I know, I just wish I would see you in a less depressive way.” The demon sighed, and wiped his smudged mascara from his cheeks. “I’m so sorry you have to see me in this state. But- I don’t have someone else-” “No, no it’s fine I want to help you you are my friend Stolas…” You said and grabbed his arm. “We can get through this. I’m here now.” He looked at you sadly before leading you into his main room where you placed him on the sofa. “Okay now: talk. I want you to express everything you feel.”
He looked down at his hands. “Blitzo he…” He stopped. “He doesn’t see it. He cannot see the way I feel for him. He was here yesterday.” “He was here? You told him that you-” “Yes…” He nodded. He started to tell you the story what happened, and you tried your best to comfort him. The nights changed into the daytime because it was the only time you could make him a bit happier even just for a little while. “I know how you feel. I got a similar issue…” You told him once you two sat on the carpet and ate ice cream. “I know. You are in love with the worst demon in hell?” He asked. After yesterday he now seemed more stabilized than before. “He’s not always like that. He walked all the way with me here.” Stolas gaze weighted heavy on you. “And...something happened?” You looked at him for a brief moment only to look away. “Yes. Almost. But this is not important right now. I’m here to make you feel better not you taking care of me when nothing actually happened.” You shrugged it off just to pick inside your ice cream, the thoughts far far away. “No tell me about it. It’s far better than to think about my current situation to no end.” You sighed. “Fine. He asked me why I know the feeling of unrequired love so good.” You started and placed the cup next to you. “Oh...and you told him…” “No! No I just dodged out the question the whole time. Now he waits for the answer when he pick me up after tomorrow.” You stared at the ceiling of his. His beautiful star sky felt like the one left on earth, and you smiled sadly. “You know, I never thought that I could love someone like that. It never was like this in my lifetime.. Now that I’ve got him it all feels so surreal. It was the feeling I’ve always wanted, yet when I have it it’s the worst.” You scoffed. “Guess it’s only a good feeling when both are in the same boat.” You looked at Stolas who looked suddenly more sad than ever. You had an idea. “You know what? I’ll go talk to him.” The expression on his face was almost like if you had told him you burned his daughter alive. “What?! No! No you can’t just go talk to him H-he will get mad at you oh he will hate-” “If he’s hating me then I’m fine with that.” You said, a serious tone in your voice. “I’ll go and talk to him. He’s already pissed off so when it’s me he let’s off steam then it’s better as if it was you.” You took his hand in yours. “Don’t hate me but you’re not in the right state for talking with him in the next while. You would let your emotions lead you and I’m neutral about it. I can put the facts on the table, without he hurting
you more.” “I can’t order this from you…” “Yes you can and even if you forbid it to me, I would do it anyway.” You said smiling. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow if that’s better for you. You know to emotionally prepare yourself?” He let out a tired laugh. “Yes this would be nice.” “Good. Alright then. Let’s eat this here up before it gets even more liquid.” You said, grabbing your ice cream cup. When your love story don’t have a happy ending, you might just form one for them.
Alastor was back at the hotel, but he wasn’t really at peace. It was hidden in the little ways that his assumption was indeed right. It was the way how he sat uncomfortable at his seat while dinner, how everyone's chatting made him nervous, or how he couldn’t find a spot to just sit and wait. Those two days were the worst for him and he couldn’t believed that you were the reason for it. “What is wrong with me…” He said to himself after he ended his broadcast. This time it was shorter and felt more like a desperate way of dealing with this feeling until it passes. At the second on time as the next day rises, he stood up a lightness in his steps. He knew he was far too early, but he had an idea. He told Charlie that he’s going to visit Rosie and pick you up after that. She agreed, of course what else so he went straight to her. After all he needed someone who might be able to tell him what’s exactly wrong with him. “Oh Alastor that this would ever happen!” She cheered and her smile wider than anything else. He just rolled his eyes. “Care to tell me Rosie?” She chuckled. “Oh come on I think you know exactly what all of this means, you are just too scared of it actually happening!” He couldn’t ignore the stitch coming with her words, but she was right. He would deny it until the last moment, but this little other thing inside him told him to have hope. Maybe you would accept his courting? “Go and tell her when you pick her up. So many people regret it their whole life for not telling the one their love for them. Or they are too afraid. But you two got the eternity gifted. What could you have possible to lose? It can’t be worse than a no.” “I see that you are clearly not understanding the issue it comes with loving another person…” He said, the grip on his cane firmed. “Yes I do. You never felt this way about someone so you are afraid. But don’t be. Try it. And you’ll see it will work out for both of you.” She laughed. “There must be a reason why the universe waited until your death to let you meet each other.” Yes there must be something. He went straight from Rosie’s to the long road to you. He could have used his shadows to teleport,
but he chose the long way to rethink everything he ever done. It would cost him everything he worked for. Someone could come and rip you apart from him. What if he’s not able to protect you from that? Maybe you could keep it as a secret so no one will know? You would understand that, you always understand everything. But what if you say no? Could he bear the thought of his only and first love saying no to him? He could force you, he had the power. But oh he would never do it. Never to you. He didn’t realized his hands were shaking, of angst. For the first time someone messed with his feelings in such a strange odd way he believed it was only a dream. All in a sudden he was right there and the long way didn’t seemed so long after all. His heart was racing he had to choose now. He wanted you to be with him. He wanted to learn to love, he wanted to try. Oh how he hoped you would try to love him too. All his flaws and his imperfections. To love the monster he was. He searched for you in every corner outside of the palace but couldn’t find you. He didn’t even came close to the door because of the security. Cold terror flooded through his veins. “Find her.” He orders, bringing up his shadow who looked much more terrified than he might look now. It resembles his true emotions after all. The shadow disappeared and Alastor after it. He found you about three blocks away in an old dirty building, your voice banging loudly from the windows. Faster than ever, he teleport himself right on the spot between you and a now utterly confused red hellborn with two large black and white striped horns now were standing. “What the fuck are you doing here, aren’t you her goddamn cru-” “Shut the fuck up Blitzo!” He looked over at you and raised his eyebrows. You looked feral, your features more hellish than before, a clear showing of how angry you must be. Your horns grew fourth the size, your eyes a dangerous light and your wings spread larger and sharper than before. “Whatever. You can go now and stop pissing me off!” Blitzo said and turned around only for you to raise your hand, your sharp claws longer and your power to pull him out of thin air back to you. You were powerful he knows that. And you looked so sinful attractive right now he had to admit. “I’m not finished with you. Can’t you see that Stolas loves you? And you love him too I know it! How can you let him down when it’s the thing you want so bad!” “You know nothing about me!” “Yes I do Blitzo! You are my friend, you brought me here when I first came to hell and I see how you care! Care about everyone in this damn business of yours and Stolas included! You might think you are not worth it or some kind of shit but you do! You do deserve it! Don’t stop the love when it’s giving to you! Do you know how he is feeling? How hard it is to love someone only to know it’s one sided?!” You almost screamed while Alastor stood there and watched you, unsure what to do. “Just because your fucking deer demon don’t love you, it doesn’t mean that I have to accept Stolas!” You froze and you could see the shock running into Blitzo’s jumped expression. He didn’t said that on purpose. But Alastor heard you. Shit.
“Oh fuck, (Y/N) I’m sorry I-” “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to him.” You only said. There was nothing you could do to undo this. You would have to come up with something but not now. Your features changed back to normal as you let out a shaky breath. “I know you well Blitzo. And you know I love you two idiots so please do me a favor and just fucking talk with each other…” You glared at him one last time before turning around and avoided Alastor’s gaze on you. “We can go now. Come.” You said quietly and walked right up to the window because you don’t really had the nerves to run down the entire building. You jumped and flew right to the ground, while Alastor was still standing on his place, looking at Blitzo. “Well I think you are really bad at this. I would be careful in your position…” He said, Blitzo only clenched his teeths. “Fuck off. I really don’t know what she sees in you but I hope you are just half less an asshole with her!” He said and brushed of, slammed the door behind him. A slightly sprinkle of hope flooded him. Was it really right what he heard from the hellborn? He manifested himself on the spot next to the building, only for finding you curled up on the curb, your face in your hands. “Oh sweetheart…” He placed himself next to you, much more closer than he would ever accept it. You wondered that he even sat on the ground with you, but you had other problems right now. You were angry with Blitzo, but this would not have made you this insecure, it was because he couldn’t hold his damn mouth. Alastor didn’t seemed to bother your silent confession to him, but you know you couldn’t just let it hang it in the air forever. “It’s alright. I...I’m just angry at him. But that’s okay. He will talk with him.” The demon looked at you raising an eyebrow. “Well he didn’t seemed like doing so.” You smiled slightly. “Yeah because you don’t know him.” You looked up again. “He took me under his roof before I came to the hotel. I stayed long enough to know that he will talk with Stolas. And to know that he loves him too.” You avoided his intense gaze again. “Well…” You started and got up. “I think I owe you an answer too. Even though you know it thanks to Blitzo…” You hands were sweating, the air got so hot in an instant. He slowly stood up as well, but not taking up space. The opposite, he even moved closer to you. As he tried to say something you quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear the things you fear the most yet. “Please let me talk first okay?” You asked, and breathed in and out. “The reason why I know this feeling of unrequited love so good is because...I’m...uhm I’m in love with- with you. Since a long time. Since the day I came to the hotel when I’m honest. Well it felt
like that for sure.” You started and couldn’t look at him, fixating a spot on his bow tie. “I was so afraid of you finding out and confronting me because you don’t feel those things and now it’s all out. I can’t believe it really. But I didn’t wanted to ruin the bond we build so I just hoped it would go away someday. A-and it will be for sure I just-” You cut yourself off. “You must be hating me right now. I can’t blame you for making fun of me, It’s really dumb from me to believe that someone like you could love someone like me even when it’s not even your fault you can’t feel those things…” You could see his feet moving closer to you so you looked up carefully as he suddenly grabbed your face in his hands and pulled you into a kiss. Your whole body was shaking and stiffened for shock as you shyly grabbed his wrists. His warm lips on yours felt like a piece of heaven and the strands of hair in his so perfectly placed hairstyle tickled you on the cheek. You could hear your heart slamming against your rib cage and you could hear the way he sighed as he pulled away for air. You stared at him, the raw shock in your eyes and lips parted. Oh there you are again, his goddess actually feeling the same way about him as he felt about you. “You are speaking so much nonsense sugar.” He said, his head lowered up to yours, gently grabbing your left hand and guiding it to his chest on the spot where his heart beats. His other hand wrapped around your side keeping you close to him as if you could disappear into thin air if he would not pay attention. “But- but why? You can’t love me, nobody’s ever done that before!” You tried to say but he only softened his smile and raised his finger. “You are a bit like your friend my sweetest. You can’t believe that someone really loves you. But darling I can tell you you drove me insane this whole two days as you were gone, and all the other days since I first met you.” He said, slowly placing his hands on your lower back. You continued to lay yours flat on his chest which were rising up in down in a breathless way, he was breathless. The static in his voice completely gone, what made him even more attractive than he already was. “I must admit to you and only you that I was scared...for once in my entire life.” He said, his eyes gazed over your face and stopped at your lips. “I was scared to have something to lose. But a good friend told me that we have eternity. And...I’m not used to this. But I want to try it. I want to try loving you the right way. When you can bring it over you to love a monster like me.” You were feeling sad for him. Did he really think that you thought about him so low? “You are not a monster.” You began, slowly reaching for his cheek. “Not for me.” You smiled. “We can try this together. We will start slow and take baby steps. Because I want this too.” You leaned your forehead against his. “More than anything.” “Good. Because I’m pretty sure I love you too, more than anything ever in my life next to my mother. Sugar” You smiled. “That’s sweet. And also the nickname.”
He looked at you smiling wider. “It is fitting for you.” He brushed off a strand of hair out of your face as he gazed at you with half lidded eyes. You two came closer until you stopped him gently with your hand on his chest. “You’ll tell me when you’re feeling uncomfortable with anything alright? Let this be our first rule.” “Oh so organized.” He teased and brushed your nose with his. He couldn’t hide the fact that his heart lit up from your words. “I agree. But the same is for you dearest.” You smiled. “Alright.” “May I kiss you now darling? Because the imagination I had of this couldn’t even reach the reality…” You chuckled but couldn’t hide the reddish color of your whole face from him. He chuckled too. He found it amusing how easy you were to fluster. “What’s the matter darling?” You pouted. “Nothing. It’s your choice of words.” You teased. “Oh you mean the fact that I think sinful thoughts about you? Or is it the way I’m calling you?~” You rolled your eyes and pushed him away playfully with your hand. He laughed, a laugh so truly and from the bottom of his heart that it made you melt. He took your hand from his chest and kissed it. Surprised you looked back and gave him a crooked smile. “Maybe it’s also the way you’re acting.” He pulled you close to him again. “Oh sugar you wrapped me around your finger. I’ll be damned…” You leaned your head against his, while stroking through his hair. “You already are. We are both.” A quick kiss from you on his lips made him press his lips against you again in an instant. You smiled as you could hear him sighting and as he got braver to explore your mouth. You let him take the control, wanting him to take the next step when he’s ready. This must be a dream. You thanked Blitzo to the universe that he couldn’t shut his stupid mouth. You hoped they will find their happy ending too, soon.
~~~~~~~~~
The full moon episode killed me so I had to add this trauma somehow :') I hope you like it you all!
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randombush3 · 6 months
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revocate animos (with or without me)
alexia putellas x reader
part one, part two, part three, part four
the second half of this part (it didn't fit in one post lol)
words: it's over 14k. i had lots to say.
summary: the final part, which originally had a different ending but i was told it was evil so i changed it.
warnings: it's mainly just sad, there's a bit of smut though
notes: i could give you so many excuses as to why this is being posted now but no one wants to read that so i'll just say sorry x
anyway, i got very lost along the way at points and had some serious plot crises that had me tearing my hair out. i researched children's behaviour to the point of needing an honourory qualification, and i spent the last three hours ignoring my girlfriend while i finished this off.
for as much as i put these two through (and myself tbh), i'm sad to finish it off. BUT ALSO NOW IM FREE.
have fun reading! and sorry about the length of it
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London smells of dirty rain and exhaust fumes, of a homelessness crisis and inflation attempting to impersonate that of the Weimar Republic; greyish streets, cracks in the pavement, thousands of spices from all over the world. Grubby patterns, hidden by the smudging of millions of bottoms, coloured poles that used to match the train line but no longer do. You breathe it all in, eyes closed as the motion of the underground jerks you sideways, the train leaving London Bridge just as you left Barcelona. Without looking back. 
You had laughed when they told you they’d send a driver to get you from the airport. The luxury of some shiny black car held no appeal when compared to the familiar Northern line, its blackened route well-travelled and your own brick-road home. 
Part of this choice to ‘slum it’ is borne of your desire to return to the past; a time before the fame and the fortune, when camera flashes came from your parents’ Sony Cyber-shot and not paparazzos with a hunger to splash you across the front page of a slimy gossip magazine. There was no Alexia, then. The extent of Spanish in your life was Anya studying for her A-levels, and you’d spend time writing songs without it feeling like pulling teeth. Without having to relive some of the worst moments of your life. 
Those hadn’t happened yet.
God, you were so naive then back then. 
Your London shows are in Wembley. Two nights, two journeys through your album, through your heartbreak. Both are sold out. 
“See it, say it, sorted,” you mouth along to the voice, pushing the handle of your suitcase upwards, rising from your seat. The doors of the tube swoosh open, the yellow line of the platform attacking your tired eyes as Highgate station is revealed to you. You hear a whisper of ‘is that Y/n L/n?’ but you don’t turn around. 
The wheels of your suitcase gurgle against the bumpy pavement leading up to your house, but they grow quieter as you approach. They must sense the tension, glad to have the smoother surface of your driveway to move across as you force yourself to continue walking forwards. 
A woman is standing on your porch. Her body swivels around as she hears you stop just behind her. 
Leah takes in the sight of you, deciding that you definitely did not enjoy Barcelona. “I was just about to ring the doorbell, but I guess you wouldn’t have answered the door anyway,” she says with an awkward chuckle, not sure if you want to talk about how rough you look. You cried the entire flight, and refused to contact anyone once you had landed, hoping they assumed your plane had crashed and you had drowned somewhere in the English Channel. 
“I got here in the morning.” Your voice is unused. It croaks, shattered. 
“Let me get your bag?” asks Leah, rather firmly, leaving you no room to decline her request before she has stepped off the porch and into your personal space. She looks up at you, wondering how you manage to look so beautiful even now, hand blindly reaching out for the hard shell of your suitcase as she stares. “How’re Nico and–” 
Your lips silence her before she is finished. Leah freezes, surprised this is the moment you have chosen to kiss her.
But she misses you as soon as you pull away. 
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and she cringes at the self-loathing that drips from your words. A tear rolls down your cheek, but you are unsure whether it falls because you have kissed her or because you want to kiss her again. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 
You must have argued with Alexia. Leah’s realisation weighs heavy on her heart. Something has to have happened for you to have made your move, because Leah had been starting to accept the idea that you were still in love with your ex and she was nothing more than a friend. She had been looking forward to your concert tonight, in all honesty, and was excited to see you again, glad to have you in her life in any way, shape, or form.
“Because,” she starts hesitantly, “because you didn’t like it? Or…” 
“Leah.” 
“If you wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t mind.” 
“Leah,” you repeat, the vowels almost failing to drop from the tip of your tongue. This is a dangerous game, but the look in Leah’s blue eyes tells you that she is happy to play it. “Leah, I… I shouldn’t have kissed you?” 
“Is that a question?” 
You blink. “I’m not sure.” 
“If it’s a question, I’d say that the answer is the opposite. And that we should go inside.” She slides her hand over the metal handle of your suitcase, warm skin covering your fingers where your grip is still curled around it. “But only if you want to.” 
Do you want to? 
You value your friendship, you really do; Leah has been there for you many times since you met her, never asking too many questions. She means something more than what you crave from her, and doesn’t deserve to be the woman you use to detach yourself from reality. 
But Leah is looking at you with desire that has been missed, relentlessness promised by her toned muscles. Leah is looking at you as though you are the only star in the galaxy or the sun on a rainy day. Leah is looking at you like she wants to devour you, and you, with no soul left to give, resign to letting her have your body.
“This won’t change anything, right?”
It’s a mean question. You know that. 
“Course not,” Leah lies. 
You let it convince the both of you. 
Pink glitter covers the dining table at one end, and shiny green stars are scattered on top of the brown grain of the wood on the other.
“She might be at soundchek,” Alexia explains to Nico, who is finished with his Mother’s Day creation and is now intent on FaceTiming you to show you the card he has made. “And cards are supposed to be a surprise. That’s why we made envelopes!” 
“But you said my card should be put in a museum,” he replies with a frown, his nose crinkling in confusion just as yours does. “So we show her now.” 
“Mi amor, that’s not how it works,” laughs Alexia, reaching out to ruffle his hair. With Elena settled comfortably on her healthy knee, gleefully pushing piles of glitter around so that it mixes with the glue smeared on her card, it is safe to say that this year’s cards are going to be successes. “Mama has promised to call when she gets home, and you can tell her that you have a surprise for her. That will build up the excitement, and make it even better when she gets to open it.” 
Your son has become a cynic. “And when will that be?” 
“Mother’s Day is on the 19th, so we have three days to wait.” You have purposely chosen a chartered route to Tokyo that flies via Barcelona so that you get to spend the day with your children before your fortnight in Asia to end the first half of the tour. “Do you want to write the words out for Lela once the glue has dried?” 
“I don’t know what Lela wants me to say,” he explains with great concern, turning to his sister with a very serious expression. He speaks to her in English, because he knows that this card is for you. He understands that there are two Mother’s Days, though he thinks it’s because he has two mothers, and that Alexia’s day is in May. When Alexia opens her mouth to speak, Nico is quick to shut her down. “Calla, Mami, no sabes nada de inglés.”
Your legs slam together but find no available route with Leah’s body in between them. 
It feels… good. 
Liberating.
You haven’t brought her into your bed, which she notices but doesn’t comment on. It’s excusable to be on the sofa, to have stayed downstairs for the hours she has spent trying to make you feel better, because the clock has only just ticked its way to lunchtime. You laugh to yourself at the thought of that, amused by the notion that you have already eaten.
Leah is curious when it comes to you. That much you had expected, having been aware of her lingering gazes long before the sores on your heart had calloused into tougher muscle. She has been waiting for this resiliently, and you present yourself to her as though you are a new toy she finally gets to play with. She kisses you slowly at times, to memorise the warmth of your tongue or the jut of your chin, but she often grows impatient, wanting nothing more than to end her torture and find out what it is like. 
What is it like to have a woman like you? To wake up next to you, kiss you, touch you? 
How does your mind work? What do you smell like just after getting out of the shower? Does your accent ever slip, or is it really that posh? 
The air in the living room is hazy now, and your eyes close in bliss as you let your sweat seep into the grainy fabric of your white sofa. Leah doesn’t crawl into your open arms as you assume she will. 
She wipes her mouth. 
Although Leah has enjoyed this very much, she knows that this instance has not been you allowing her to start to love you. It has been for her to help you forget how much pain you are in. Somewhere deep down, she cares, but she doesn’t try to search for the emotion.
“So,” she says with a giggle, as if you are two teenage girls, best friends who have decided to kiss so that they can practise for the real thing, “do I need to send an apology present to your makeup artist?” Sitting back on her knees, she swipes one hand down to pluck her t-shirt from the floor, pulling it on top of her naked body before sending you an exaggerated smirk and prodding the developing bruise on your neck.
“Fuck,” you groan, batting her hand away. “I completely forgot I had that thing tonight.” You also need to call your children before Alexia bans your name from her household (if that hasn’t happened already). 
“That ‘thing’ being your concert at Wembley?” 
“I’d have thought selling out Wembley is the norm for you now, Captain,” you tease, clearing your throat. “England have done it, Champions of Europe for the very first time.” 
“You’re freakishly good at a commentator’s voice.” 
“Gotten used to being my own commentator. Only Spanish streams in my house – even United matches!” You smile at your own frustration but it quickly sours as awkwardness drops on top of you. You bring your arms up to cover your bare chest, but Leah clears her throat with softened eyes and you no longer feel so exposed. 
You feel safe.
“What happened in Barcelona?” You shake your head at her question. “That bad, huh?” she presses. 
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you tell her, grey clouds hanging over you as your voice darkens and lowers. “Like, at all.” 
“I think you should. It’s better it comes out now than later when you’ve had lots to drink and no idea who you’re ranting about it to, isn’t it? And it’s just me; I’m not going to judge you.” 
“But you know her. You know her friends.” Your hands move to cover your face. Leah can have your body, but you don’t want her to have your tears. “Thank you for caring, babe, but I think I’m going to handle this one on my own.” 
“Well, you know that–” 
“You’re always a phone call away.” You smile, tears sucked back inside you, bottled away in glassware you store in crates labelled ‘VERY FRAGILE’. Desperate to change the subject, you adjust your position on the sofa, sitting up. Leah tries very hard not to stare at the curves of your chest. “You know, Lee, I never thought you’d be that good in bed.” 
Alexia is in desperate need of advice. 
Her muscles contract and relax, the tissues pulling on her bone, which, in turn, pulls her. She is strung along, driven perhaps by her leap in recovery and impending comeback. She almost breaks out into a jog, but the church she has dragged herself to comes into view before she can gain speed. 
She had not expected this from herself. 
It’s nothing special to her, though she will admit that the architecture of the building does hold some sense of divinity, but the heavy wooden door is propped open and she is drawn inside. 
The Sacrament of Reconciliation, Fridays, 17.00-17.30. 
Alexia checks her watch, the golden links gleaming on her wrist, catching the sunlight that filters in through the glass windows. 
She catches a glimpse of white behind the doors of the Confession booth, becoming acutely aware of how empty the church is. The curtain has been pulled back, bunched to the left-hand side carefully, as though the previous handler had moved with peace. 
It can’t be that bad, can it? 
It’s just like therapy. 
Her feet carry her forwards once more, leading her into the wooden booth. It smells old. The cushion she kneels on is blue, she thinks, but she cannot tell because it goes dark once she pulls the curtain shut. 
Alexia is not a religious person. Sure, she signs the cross before stepping onto the pitch, and, like most people she knows, she is baptised, but her faith is limited to that. When she tore her ACL, she spent evenings trying to pray, trying to force her to believe in Him. It would have been comforting to know that someone had a plan for her, was watching over her carefully with the knowledge of how it was going to play out. It was to no avail. 
But somehow she knows what to say, and so she does. 
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” She recites the words like lines from a play, head bowed in shame as she writes her next sentences in her mind. “This is my first and, probably, my last confession.” 
Silence. 
She rests her hands in her lap, shuffling around to ensure she is not pressing down on her knee in any way that is harmful. It would kill her to have to push back her return to the pitch because of some stupid thing she has spontaneously chucked herself into. 
“I messed up.” She laughs. “No, that is actually an understatement. I know this is a church and I really shouldn’t swear, but I fucked up. Father, I had Heaven in my hands and I threw it away as though it were meaningless. Was it greed? Was it greed that led me to do it?” 
“Do what, my daughter?” 
The priest sounds younger than she’d thought he would be. 
“I had an affair with a woman whom I am certain I do love a little bit, but, by doing that, I destroyed a life that was perfect. Was it greed?” 
“I think you know the answer to that.” 
“Was it temptation?” Alexia tries again, desperately. Part of her yearns for the priest to tell her it was the Devil so that she can shed the responsibility. “I love my wife. More than anything, I love her. I do not think my own life is worth living if it is not in service to her, to our children, to the smile she reserves for her favourite people. I… I didn’t attempt it, but I thought about killing myself.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Only once, but I thought it all the same. My sister called me selfish.
“It’s just – forgive me – fucked, isn’t it? I got carried away. I got lonely, I was alone. I craved something to make me forget, to pinch the gaping hole in my life shut. I relied on it to make me feel better, and it did for a time. But now it has made me feel much, much worse.
“And I am sorry! I am so, so sorry. I have grown sick of the word; I’ve used it so much that it holds no meaning anymore. It doesn’t do my regret justice, nor my quest for forgiveness, and I’m really on that quest, Father, I want to stress that to you. I lost my temper and said things I should not have said – things I don’t even believe – but I did not mean them then, and I do not mean them now.” 
“You are not religious,” accuses the priest, very gently. His voice washes over Alexia’s ears like a wave of warm saltwater from the Mediterranean, and she feels comfortable enough to swim into the expanse in front of her. “Our God is forgiving, but it is not His forgiveness that you seek. I cannot give you a prayer that will make her absolve your sins, because our holy words are not spells.” 
“Father,” croaks Alexia. As her lips part, she tastes the saltwater of the sea, dripping down her cheeks as though the tide has come in and there is no other option than for her to be flooded. “Please help me. I don’t know what to do.” 
The priest speaks, but she assigns the voice to someone else. 
The first thing you forget about a person is what their voice sounds like. It lingers like a feeling you can’t quite name; distant, distorted, enhanced by fantasy.
Alexia does not remember her father’s voice. 
The realisation is crushing. 
She knows his words – they are her prayers – but, like Catholics do not know the voice of their God, she can no longer hear the voice of hers. 
What would her father say if he saw her like this? On her knees in a Confession booth, backed against the wall with nowhere to hide?
This is not the girl he was proud of. Alexia, of course, is not that eighteen-year-old anymore; she hasn’t been for a decade. But, recently, the legacy of that unknown Levante player has disappeared. 
Alexia is so very lost. 
She does not know where she is in her own city. In her home. 
She does not know her place in her life, much less her place in yours – if you will still grant her one. 
She has not felt the thrill of football for months, has driven herself to Hell and back, and considered giving up enough to be on the brink of actually doing it. 
She has seen countless meals hit the water of her toilet, never digested, never deserving of the very thing that keeps her alive. 
She has counted your sacrifices, memorising the digits of an ongoing figure so that she can punish herself with the knowledge. 
She has tried to forget English, tried to improve her English, and taken vows of silence. 
She has cried and cried and cried until the only thing left for her to excrete is her hot, red blood. 
She has searched for a way out of the maze. She has failed every time. 
Alexia is lost without you, and she knows it. Everyone knows it, perhaps even you yourself. Do you revel in that fact? Do you enjoy it? 
You have a right to watch her suffer. You do, you do, you do. 
Alexia runs a hand through her damp hair, sweating as she sobs in the booth next to some stranger who she will never meet again. Her mouth is dry but her cries are wet and raw, and they scrape her throat as she chokes them out, losing her breath and falling silent only to catch it and begin again. The cushion burns her knees as though she is trapped in an inferno, the darkness blazing against her skin. 
The priest talks to her for a long time, not letting her leave until she has calmed down. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her palm before softly pressing her thumbs to her blotchy cheeks to clear the final tears from them. 
When he is finished, he instructs her to take a few deep breaths, which she does. “You are not entitled to her forgiveness,” he reminds her. He begins the Prayer of Absolution – he insists for the sake of closure – and Alexia walks away from the church no more than five minutes later. 
She is still stuck in the maze, but she has restored that voice in her head that she knows will help her find her way out.
“So you went to church?” Olga asks with an amused smile, taking the first sip of her latte, relishing in the gentle burn of the liquid. She needs this coffee; she stayed up late last night because she knew Alexia has been struggling. There is nothing worse than being asleep when Alexia calls her for help. 
“I have no idea how I ended up there,” Alexia explains, somewhat defensive about yesterday’s catharsis. “Confession is way better than therapy. There is too much accountability in therapy.” 
“You have a lot to account for.” 
She huffs out a breath, taking a sip of her own drink. “I know, Olga, but I cannot change the past, so what would you like me to do?” Olga doesn’t reply. The brunette parts her lips, but promptly closes her mouth when she sees Alexia’s slight discomfort. ��Mama wants you to come to dinner tonight. I… I do too.” 
Olga’s smile is big and genuine. “I’d love that,” she answers. “Eli is the best cook out of our friends’ parents. Everyone knows that.” 
You’re in London, childless, and are watching the grand old Arsenal play (reluctantly, forced to by Leah if anything). Alexia has seen the pictures of you at the match on Instagram; she has already felt the frustration that you are most-likely never going to watch Barcelona play again unless it is to support the other team. Like clockwork, Alexia seeks to fill the gaping hole you have left in her life. Somewhere, somehow, the lines of friendship between her and Olga have blurred. 
It takes just over a month for Leah to crack. 
You appear in London every two weeks, attending meetings and events, but she has decided, once and for all, to see through your excuses. You come to London for her. She knows that, and so do you. Leah’s ego has not reached a size where she believes she is enough for you, but the facts (and Lia Wälti) tell her she is wrong. 
Except, what Leah tends to leave out is that no matter how many times you let her sleep with you, she still is unable to access a certain part of your mind. 
She has never been upstairs in your house because you always prefer to go to her place in St. Albans. She has never slept in your bed, nor woken up next to you. 
You talk to her like she is still the same old Leah, the captain you befriended during the tournament of her lifetime, your entrance in her life intertwined with the ecstasy of winning the Euros. She closes her eyes and thinks of how you looked that summer; white England shirt, sunglasses pulled down over your eyes. Smiling, cheering. For her, she greedily claims to herself.
Sometimes, in her mind, you lift your sunglasses – you always seem to be crying when she pictures this – but Leah is only vaguely familiar with the timeline of your divorce. This is the issue.
There is a door that you have locked and refuse to let Leah find the key. It leads to heartbreak, to Nico and Elena, to a family you once had. 
“I wish you would let me in,” Leah says one day. (The day she cracks.) She tears her ACL two days prior, something that makes you feel guiltily nauseous, and you have come to visit her. She knows that you had flown over the minute you had swapped custody with Alexia. 
Your legs curl into your chest as you try to reduce the amount of space you are taking up on Leah’s sofa, cautious of her injured knee. Leah misses the warmth of your thighs, and wants to revoke her conversation starter instantly, pained that she has to even ignite the fire of this forbidden topic. “What do you mean?” comes your quiet reply, unwilling to disturb the peace of her living room. The peace of existing side-by-side. 
“Exactly what I said.” Leah nods to emphasise her agreement with herself. “I wish you would let me in, because how do you expect me to love you if I don’t know you?” 
She sees the bullet fly through the air; she sees the moment it hits you, the way you go rigid. Dead. Dying? 
“It’s crazy because it usually takes years for me to feel about someone the way I feel about you, and I just… I just wanted to tell you that it’s okay to let me in. I want to hear everything, to know everything.” 
“Oh.” What had you expected when you kissed her? “Oh, Leah.” 
“You don’t have to apologise.” She assigns your guilt, the tears in your eyes, to your distance. Perhaps you hadn’t realised, perhaps it is a coincidence Leah has never slept in the bed you used to share with Alexia. Maybe you are unaware that Leah has never heard you speak Spanish, and doesn’t know a single thing about your life in Barcelona. 
You’re a busy person, after all. 
“No, no,” you dismiss quickly, shaking your head. Leah can’t help but wonder if the paranoid voice in her head is right; has she been reading too much into this? “Fuck, I am such a twat.” 
But you don’t elaborate further, asking how she’s feeling, distracting her from your realisation about her realisation. Before Leah knows it, you are making her laugh harder than she has in a month, and soon, like most good things, your visit comes to an end. 
Returning to Barcelona is a little weird. 
You feel as though you have done nothing but check over your shoulder the entire journey, staring the past straight in the eye and wishing you could change it. 
You hadn’t meant to make her fall in love with you. (But she has. Oh, she has.) 
This week’s swap is no different; the same park as usual, the same pleasant weather to undergo an unpleasant task. 
On the bench usually occupied by Olga, a different, blonder head comes into view. 
“Irene?” you ask in surprise, wondering if she has been sent in Olga’s stead or just so happens to have brought Mateo, her son, to the very same park. You sit down beside her, somewhat pleased to not see Alexia’s henchwoman today. “Where’s the free childcare?” 
The defender’s eyes narrow, as though she is debating whether or not she should tell you. 
Irene has known Alexia for a long time, and, by extension, has known you for a long time too. She is calm, level-headed, and mature, much like Alexia. Except Irene hasn’t ever thought to cheat on her wife. 
You are clearly in a lot of pain, and you have a right to be; Irene does not rise to your comment. “Olga has gone on holiday,” she states with practised neutrality. 
“Ah, they’ve broken up.” 
Eyebrows raised, she turns to you, breaking her line of sight that encompasses Nico, Mateo, and Elena. The playground is small enough, and very safe. “They were never together.” You wait patiently for her analysis of whatever the fuck was going on between them. “Olga said she wasn’t what Alexia needed. She’s on holiday with Carla, and I guess she is quite upset.” 
“And Alexia?” You know Irene does not like to gossip, nor stir the pot. So you can be nosy about how she is doing. 
“I think her ego was bruised, but she sees Olga’s point. She has been… better recently. She’s focused on getting back onto the pitch, and Jona is only saying good things about it.” Irene’s eyes brighten at the thought of her captain’s recovery, and her tone soars through the air. The entire team has worried for Alexia, spending their own nights tossing and turning, wondering if the old version of her will ever return. “I know you two don’t speak, but if you did, you’d get a glimpse of what it was like before.”
You can’t help your smile, and Irene does not make you feel pathetic for wearing it. “Good.” 
“I heard you were in London?” 
“Visiting a… friend.” Irene is not a gossip, you remind yourself. “I think I might have to stay in this country for a bit and let things cool down over there.” 
She chuckles. “Whose heart have you broken?” She won’t tell Alexia, when Alexia inevitably asks about you, that you are seeing someone. Not that you have confirmed that to her. 
“I’m yet to break it,” you tell her, sighing, “but I know I will, and that is much, much worse.”
“Hey, at least you have two weeks of being endlessly busy to keep your mind off it.”
Children change a lot in two weeks, so Irene then launches into an update on school, clubs, and everything else. She gets the information from Alexia, of course, who writes out a list every time you switch over. No one has ever handed you the piece of paper before, worried that her handwriting will be an unnecessary reminder of the pain she has caused you, but, for some reason, Irene does today.
You are not put off by the swirling Spanish in front of you, instead choosing to study it. You have spent hours in Alexia’s lap as she scrawls out football notes upon football notes, scribbling prompted by footage or, freakishly, her own memory. From the lightness of the indentations of the pen, you figure that Alexia is exhausted. From the half-finished sentences, you decide that she was rushing when she wrote this. 
But, as much as you delight in your brief analysis of the evidence in your palms like Sherlock Holmes solving a mystery, you can’t ignore just how greatly you have missed the letters that swim between the lines (and the hand from which they were written). 
Irene spares you your dignity by standing from the bench and checking on the children just as your tears begin to fall. 
You take one last look in the mirror embedded in the sun visor, ensuring your hair is perfectly in place and your earrings match your cream, sleeveless turtleneck to poise you just between casual and smartly-dressed. A quiet grumble from the backseat draws your attention away from your reflection, though your last glimpse at your concealed eyebags and red-rimmed irises leaves you feeling a little dejected and mourning the days you’d actually get some sleep. (Or wouldn’t, smoking cigarettes on the balcony while talking Alexia’s ear off.) 
“Mama, we go,” decides Elena with a huff, tugging on the buckle of her car seat. 
It’s Nico’s first-ever recital tonight. 
He started playing the piano in September, when his teacher at school had mentioned how he boasted to the children in his class that he was a musician: ‘if I am Catalan because my mami is Catalan, then I am musician because my mami is musician’. You felt guilty. His teacher says he is naturally talented, voice lacking surprise but praiseful nonetheless, and is proud to name Nico his youngest student at tonight’s show. 
The bouquet of daisies you ask Elena to hold makes her look like a miniature carnival float, and she toddles into the venue by your side while you do mental gymnastics between the knowledge that Alexia will be here tonight and the nerves for your son’s performance. It’s nothing complicated, but you worry he will hate it. This is the only thing he does that is a nod towards you; his one deviation from his worship of Alexia. 
“Mami!” squeals the walking flowers as soon as you make it to the half-full hall. You direct your gaze to the three rows your daughter refers to, every seat lined with either professional footballers or family. With a sudden rush of blood to your head, you feel out of your depth.
You’re not sure whether the hazel eyes that find yours help or worsen that. 
“Keep it moving,” you mutter firmly, holding her hand so she does not make a break for it and tumble right over to the cohort of FC Barcelona and Seguras. Not wanting to get too close to them, you take your seat in the penultimate row, knowing Nico will not be able to see you over the grand piano set up on the stage wherever you sit. “You can talk to her later, sweetheart.” 
She is in an obedient mood, most-likely intimidated by the tension in the air. You tell yourself it’s the stress radiating from the line of performers sitting on the front row. Nico stands on his chair, waving first to Alexia and then to you (it’s your turn with them so you are a lot less exciting right now), before he is lightly scolded by his teacher and the first child walks up the steps and onto the stage. 
Five uninspiring children later, Nico is finally led up onto the stage. His teacher sits down on the piano stool and nudges him forwards. He smiles brightly at the room. You reciprocate, encouraging Elena to do the same to keep her engaged with an admittedly boring event. 
“Bona nit a tothom! Jo sóc en Nicolau i tinc quatre anys i ara aniré a tocar ‘Brillia Brillia Estel Petit’.” The audience melts before him. “Mama, that means ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’,” he whispers loudly. 
You send him a thumbs up. He sends you a grin back, before giggling as he climbs onto the piano stool beside his teacher. 
Situated comfortably, feet dangling adorably far away from the pedals, his chubby, little fingers hit the ivory keys once, then twice. 
You pray this goes well. 
It does. 
He plays with two hands, something you hadn’t expected, and Elena holds in her noisy yawn until after he is finished so she must have been invested in the performance. Your own hands sting after you clap with such prideful force that you are the loudest in the room, and the hoots and hollers from Alexia’s territory only make Nico even happier as he bounces down the steps and back to his seat to wait for the others to do their pieces. 
After the recital has finished, you walk down the aisle separating the seats in half to get to Nico, daughter-less courtesy of a squadron of football-playing kidnappers. 
“How was that?” you ask him smugly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “I knew you would be brilliant, even when you were scared you weren’t going to be. Do you know how proud I am of you?” 
“This much?” He holds his hand about thirty centimetres apart. “Mami says this much.” 
When he widens his hands, you gesture something even bigger. 
“‘Immensely’ is the word I would use.” 
“Im-men-lee?” 
“Es que nuestro orgullo llena una casa sin techo. Hasta el cielo.” 
“Up to the sun,” you amend, ignoring the way the voice has made you stiffen. You don’t read too much into her misuse of the collective pronoun. There is no ‘our’ in ‘affair’.
Alexia’s hand hovers by your waist for a moment, muscle memory getting the better of her before she draws it back into her body. Nico gives her a matching hug, telling her how much he has missed her. 
You try not to blame yourself for his derailed childhood. 
“You were amazing, petit,” Alexia says, picking him up with one strong arm and settling him on her hip. You grip the wrapper of the bouquet you are holding. “Did Mama get you a gift?” 
He peers at the daisies in your hand with curiosity. Shaking his head, his confusion deepens as he studies the bouquet you are extending towards him. “They are for Mami? Flowers are for love.” 
“I love you,” you tell him, not trying to make a point but instinctively prickling in the presence of Alexia.
The silence is awkward. 
A few metres away, whilst entertaining the sleepy toddler on her lap, Mapi is excitedly talking to Alba. “Y/n hasn’t killed her yet,” says the defender with glee, one of your admirers. The team respected you before, never questioning their captain’s judgement nor family, but when word got out about the affair amongst the older girls, most of them began to see you as more than Alexia’s wife. A new layer to your character was revealed; you are a strong, independent, and successful woman. Football nerds sometimes forget success comes in more forms than blaugrana kits. “They made such a beautiful couple.” 
“They did.” Alba watches as you talk to your son, your eyes actively avoiding the woman in front of you. “Our mother has sent Alexia over there to invite her to dinner. It killed me to see her sit alone.” 
You are too used to the feeling of eyes on you that you no longer notice the weight of people’s stares, but, if this were not the case, you would know that most of the heads attached to the bodies sitting in Alexia’s rows had been swivelled towards you for majority of the recital. Pity is never a desired emotion to have offered to you, but the Barça girls can’t help but feel that way whenever they see your forehead crinkle in an attempt to understand Catalan, presuming you only speak Spanish as you have more than enough on your plate. (And, as most of the players will admit, your children speak better English than them, so one can only assume that it is your main method of communication.)
“She’s a very good mother,” Mapi comments with a small nod, sucking a sharp breath in as she begins to sympathise with you even more. Not a day goes by where she witnesses the suffering Alexia’s idiocracy has caused – as Ingrid, her girlfriend, knows very well – and does not fail to scream in frustration about her best friend’s stupid mistakes.
“She’s a very good person.” 
They fall silent as they see your head tilt up, jaw clenching as Alexia begins to speak to you. 
“Can you hear what she’s saying?” whispers Eli to her daughter, equally invested in the conversation. “I knew I should have sent you; Alex is too socially awkward.” 
“Mami, she is talking to her wife,” replies Alba, though she remembers what happened the last time Alexia and you had spoken and the outcome of that. Maybe that commences her increasing agreement with her mother… “I guess you– Are they coming over here?!” 
Even you seem surprised by how your legs carry you towards the Barcelona clan, a step behind Alexia and Nico. Hesitant would be an understatement, but most of them are too preoccupied with congratulating the four-year-old they have come to watch to notice your tight-lipped smile and trembling hands. 
“Hola,” you say shyly. 
Eli pulls you into her strong embrace without missing a beat. “Te he echado de menos, hija.” 
You try very hard not to burst into tears. 
They take you to dinner; a plan you had known about but not envisioned yourself included in. Although it’s your fortnight, Alexia (through the conduit of Alba) had previously arranged to drop Nico and Elena over to yours before midnight. 
You blow off your FaceTime call with Leah.
The restaurant is on the lower level of fine-dining. It’s chic, but it does not make your children feel unwelcome. The table is set for five places, though Alba informs you that the reason for this is because the reservation was made before she broke up with her girlfriend. 
“Mama, what are you going to eat?” asks Nico, slipping back into his old life seamlessly, mixing his English with the Spanish he knows everyone can understand, his legs swinging underneath the table with an enthusiastic energy. He is still too young to pick up on how far apart his parents are sitting, or how you refuse to let your eyes linger on Alexia’s tanned skin, far too much of it shown off by the tank top she sports in the humidity of the busy restaurant. 
You glance around the room, searching for those who have recognised you. Under the weight of at least four curious stares, you motivate yourself to enjoy your meal. 
“Not sure yet, babe,” you answer. “Alba, do you fancy sharing something?”
“Yeah, of course.” The younger Putellas smiles. Alexia knows who has lost the war.
Dinner passes with light conversation centred on very neutral topics. No man’s land is clearly the children, and you had never expected to be so desperate to continue a conversation about school lunches until the other options are how Alexia had an affair with her teammate or that your song with her favourite singer is topping the charts and explicitly about being cheated on. 
Although you and Alexia both watch how many times your wine glasses are refilled, Alba lets loose, as does Eli (probably to ease the stress on her heart that her girls force upon her). Their cheeks redden and Nico begins to yawn, Elena already curled into your side halfway between dreams and reality. 
“Should we head out?” you ask it to the table, but the only functioning person is Alexia, really, and so you close your eyes to avoid having to make eye contact. 
“I should probably get Mama and Alba into a taxi.” 
“If you call one for them, I will call one for us?” Your suggestion is instinctive; an old habit reminiscent of many similar nights, back when there was love and happiness and a relationship that didn’t feel like walking on a floor made of broken glass. “Or did you drive here?” 
“No, but you drove,” comes Alexia’s reminder. Internally, you face-palm. Parking the car before dinner seems like years ago; something feels different now. “But if you don’t feel up to it, I could drive you home. I haven’t had much to drink and I have nothing else planned for tonight. Elena is practically in a coma anyway.” 
You laugh – a softened version of it so as to not rouse the dead weight of your daughter. 
“Are you sure?” 
It’s late.
“Yes, I’m sure.” 
I don’t care. 
“Mama,” Alba slurs, pulling her mother in close. “The saint has given her sinner a second chance.” 
It may not be as quiet as she thinks it is. Alexia, occupied, is deaf to the comment. You are not.
This is not a second chance. 
This is a lift home. 
The last time all four of you sat in a car together was the day you found out about Alexia’s affair. 
You had suffered then – are still suffering now – but your anger was hot and sharp and new. Fresh wounds. 
Now, though more scabbed-over than healed, those wounds no longer seem to gush blood; you entertain Alexia’s stiff small-talk. 
She asks about the tour, never veering too far off the road of practicality and shared custody. When does it resume? Which has been your favourite show? 
“Wembley is like playing El Clásico in Camp Nou,” she determines, not needing to ask about that because she knows you too well. 
Your memories of the London shows involve a naked Leah Williamson. (If only she knew that!) 
“Yeah, London was great.”
Awkwardness is part of Alexia’s personality; something you are fairly certain you still love. She is shy, though it perhaps comes off as stoicity, and she has never been good at making conversation. You know she hates it, and you know that her eyes, Alexia’s eyes, are gazing at you every time she thinks you are not looking. 
She is weary about the desire darkening her pupils, but she does not do well to hide her hunger nonetheless. 
“Go into the carpark,” you instruct as you approach your building.
Wordlessly, she presses the correct pin into the pin-pad, never having forgotten it. 
She parks the car beside a new-looking Mercedes. It’s not a car for children, and she imagines it reeks of cigarettes – there is no way you have stopped smoking. 
It belongs in the carpark; in your little world of celebrities and male footballers; of money and fame and fortune. (One could argue you lack the latter, what with your current situation.) Alexia’s life has never moulded with yours. 
Perhaps it never will. 
Perhaps she slept with Jenni because they are equals, you think. Because Jenni understands Alexia in a way you cannot. 
“Mami,” cries a quiet voice from the backseat. You stop staring at the grey, concrete walls, snapping back to reality as Alexia shifts to turn her attention to the source of the whimpering. “No quiero que te vayas.” 
“Lela, me tengo que ir.” 
“Pero–” 
“You could always come up to say goodnight to them?” 
It starts off innocently. 
Of course it does. Of course you are nowhere near forgiveness, more likely to forget about the crushing affair before you excuse any of her actions. Sometimes, you wish for amnesia. Sometimes, you refer to the tab open in Safari – ‘is there a drug that makes you forget?’. 
Alexia is granted a tuck-in and a story for each child, glad that their rooms are separate so that her time in her home is prolonged. The walls are familiar, the floor is the same. There are new pictures in new frames, but the old ones have not been removed. If you had ever wished to take photographs of your relationship down, you have never acted on it. 
She realises you must not spend a lot of time here alone. Maybe you cannot bear it. Maybe your life in London is more important to you than she had thought. 
Anyway, for as much as she subtly noses around and draws out the night, she has no intention of overstaying her welcome, sure that she probably did that the minute she stepped inside. 
In fact, she is on her way out, under the assumption that you will not want to speak to her.
“So you’re back to playing?” 
“Sí.” 
A doorway conversation. 
You’re English. You’re very polite. Alexia knows this, tries to not get her hopes up. 
“Does that mean you don’t want a taste of this ‘97?” You hold the bottle up to her, the cork lying on the granite worktop with the incriminating suggestion that you have already had a glass. 
“We play the day after tomorrow.” 
“Oh, Ale, this is a good one.” 
How many times have you said that to her before? The same tone, the same look in your eye; red tinting your lips, one hand on a lighter because you smoke when you’re drunk, even if you refuse to touch the cancer-sticks when you are sober. 
“Was this a gift?” she asks, drawn into your magnetic field like a flimsy paper clip; thin, worn metal trying to piece the pages of her life back together. “Or have you been making ridiculous purchases again?” 
“I can assure you that it is not ‘ridiculous’.” You moan in delight as you take a sip from a glass you subsequently hand over to her. “Gosh, that is divine, and you are simply going to dissolve when you taste it.” 
Dissolve she does, but one can attribute that to the company. 
The contents of the bottle dwindles quickly, paired with a vulnerable retelling of her ACL recovery (sans suicidal thoughts and huge, huge regret about the affair – she doesn’t want to bring that up, seeing as you are clearly trying to forget about it), and the warm breeze of the Barcelona nighttime. The salty air from the mediterranean mingles with cigarette smoke, though Alexia softly says that you really should stop. 
You hesitate on your next puff, but you inhale it all the same. “I like my wine smokey.” 
She opens the next bottle for you. 
The wine glasses are soon discarded, pouring becoming shaky and difficult. 
“They sleep all the way through the night here,” observes Alexia, surprised that no little hands have knocked on the glass door leading to the balcony. The last time you had reached for the wine, you’d moved closer to her. You have not yet returned to your original seat on the other side of the rattan sofa. 
You raise your eyebrows, under the impression that they were both sleep trained. “They don’t at yours?” 
“Elena keeps trying to sleep in bed with me.” 
“Maybe she likes you more,” you suggest with a light, alcohol-infused laugh. “She must have been upset to find her place filled by your friend.” 
“No,” murmurs Alexia, “it has never been filled. Though I don’t think you can say the same.” 
You swallow the stickiness of the wine running down your throat.
“Not in our bed. My bed.” You fight yourself. “Our bed.” 
“In Highgate?” 
“Anywhere,” you breathe. 
“It’s been months,” croaks Alexia, your hand pressed against her stomach as you slowly lean into the feeling only she can give you. “Months.” 
You kiss her. Time folds in on itself, and you are transported back to when every touch was electric; when nothing was tainted. The pain of the past months, the heartbreak, momentarily fades into insignificance as you lose yourself in Alexia’s warmth.
Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, afraid that this moment might slip away too soon. The taste of wine lingers on your lips, and she craves the softness of them – she has been craving them since July.
“Well, now it has only been seconds,” you whisper as you pull away. 
With a sense of urgency, she chases your mouth once more, strong arms pulling you on top of her, manipulating your body against her with no hint of uncertainty. 
Alexia knows you well.
Her touch lacks curiosity and exploration. Her hands are experienced and confident in their movements, and she has hoisted you up and brought you to your bedroom without needing to have been told that this is what you want. 
“Is this what you want?” she asks anyway. 
“Please.” 
And she really doesn’t make you beg. 
Your hands roam her body with a primal hunger, instinctive touches to the most sensitive parts of her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her back is tense, muscles flexing as she pushes your clothes off your skin, her own following their path soon after. 
Parted legs and soft moans. 
She slots herself between your thighs. 
Her tongue is determined, fierce. Sloppier because she is drunk, but, then again, so are you. 
Your fingers repay the favour. 
“More,” you request just as she pulls away. 
“Is it in the same place?” 
You nod, panting.
There is a playful glint in Alexia’s eyes as she finds the strap just where she left it. As she secures it in place, you wipe the sweat from your brow, forcing your mind into the dirtiest of thoughts to ward off the building regret.
The room is dimly lit, and the air heavy with desire. Your heartbeat pulses in the silence, the thrum of the organ drums that guide Alexia’s slow, deliberate steps back towards the bed, kneeling atop the scrunched sheets. 
She positions herself between your legs once more, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating against your skin. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your neck, sending shivers of anticipation shuddering down your spine. 
With trembling hands, you reach out, nails digging into tanned, taut skin. You pull her closer to you, urging her to take whatever she wants. 
You want her to have you. You want her to make it hurt less. 
As Alexia presses inside, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body. You cry out, the sound igniting a blazing inferno within her that grows hotter the moment you ask her to move. Feverishly, her hands move over your chest, finding purchase on your breasts with a dormant possessiveness as her hips begin to drive the strap in deeper. 
Your breath hitches in your throat as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, encompassed by someone so divine that you begin to separate yourself from all things wrong with this situation. The headboard thuds against the bedroom wall as she pounds her thrusts into a rhythm, and you shut your eyes as you quietly ask her to kiss you.
Tears cascade down your cheeks, but you do not know to whom they belong. Her tongue smothers your moans, and her hips begin to snap into yours more urgently, with more desperation. The pressure builds inside of you, and you feel as though you might explode. 
You feel as though this is the end, and you are glad that here is where your misery terminates. 
You’re glad, you’re really glad. 
Your back arches, your chests pressing together, large hands holding you close to her. 
And then it all comes crashing down. 
Everything. 
You wipe your eyes once the orgasmic bliss subsides, seizing your wine haze as the tide goes out and destroying the blindfold that had deprived you of seeing things straight. Right now, with the pleasant ache between your legs, you can’t quite bring yourself to regret it, but you know you will. You haven’t forgiven her; you’re not sure that it is possible. 
“You can shower, but you can’t stay here.” 
Nico knows that he is special. He is lucky, and he is loved, and he gets to go to a very nice school that Mateo (his ‘cousin’) claims is fancy. 
He likes his teacher. She reminds him of someone he once knew – you have suggested the nursery helpers back when he lived in London. He is not sure if you are right, but he doesn’t remember what London was like so he tries not to think too hard about it. 
Nico’s friends, like Pau who is sitting beside him, all think it is really cool that he can speak English. Pau says she hears his mother on the radio sometimes, but Nico hasn’t yet grasped the concept of fame past the annoying camera flashes and big, sold-out stadiums. He dislikes fame as he knows it, anyway, because the cameras hurt his eyes and the stadiums are so loud that he has to wear ear-defenders that squeeze his skull a bit too much. 
“My mum is from Bilbao. My dad is from Barcelona,” states Paula as she swipes a crayon over the sheet of paper her drawing is on. Green wax slowly stains the white to form ‘grass’. Everyone is drawing their family today, although Nico hasn’t yet started, waiting for his teacher to circle their table so that he can ask for another piece of paper. “And this,” Paula carries on, squiggling brown hair onto a smaller version of the stick-figure father, “is Ander, my big brother.” 
“Who is that?” Nico asks, pointing at the fifth figure on the page, guessing that the fourth and Pau-sized person is, in fact, Pau. 
“My sister! She’s called Nerea, and she plays basketball.” Pau promptly makes an orange circle the size of Nerea’s head, which floats in the air between her and her sister. “My mum says Nere is going to be a lesbian, but I don’t know what that means.” 
“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to garner the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.” 
“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”
She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that. 
He shrugs. “Okay.”
He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)
“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?” 
“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.” 
“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.” 
“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.” 
He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with. 
Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue. 
“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares. 
Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all. 
When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her. 
Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that. 
“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.” 
The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together tot el temps. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.” 
His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already attracted the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia is usually inviting him to training with her. Since Elena has yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, his mother misses him when it is not her turn. 
You benevolently give your permission if you have no prior plans. It is upsetting that the only hindrance to extra time spent together is the little boy who once worshipped Alexia Putellas like a god. 
“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper. 
He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half. 
Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s. 
“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?” 
“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.” 
“But now you are ripped down the middle.” 
He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One of his legs is on your side, the other on Alexia’s. 
“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.” 
Alexia does, though, when his teacher talks to her that afternoon. 
“I slept with Alexia,” you confess quietly, comforted by the sound-proofing of Anya’s home-studio. She asked for help with her album; your success might be contagious, she insists. “Last week, when Nico had that recital.” You clutch your mug protectively, as if she will strip you of the right to drink your tea to punish you for your crime. 
Anya is unsure what you would like her to say. You search her face for anger, but do not find it. 
“If Gio were here, she’d probably slap you.” 
You snort, almost spilling hot liquid all over yourself. “You two are like my mothers, and you’re the nicer one by far.” 
“God, you are such an idiot.” 
“And a slag.” She waits for your next admission with excitement. “I also slept with Leah Williamson.” 
“Do you think you and Alexia are just destined for polyamory?” Her amusement is quite pleasant, but one thing wasn’t dulled by the wine that night and you have been dying to tell someone about it.
Your knee bounces up and down as you gear up for it, having thought it through 
“I think we are destined for each other.” 
Song-writing be damned, Anya fully removes her headphones, placing the equipment beside her keyboard before letting out a small, exasperated laugh. “You are in love with Alexia again,” comes her accusation, with no real malice behind it. 
“I never stopped being in love with Alexia. She just made it a lot harder to love her.” 
Is that an understatement? 
“Hey,” you say with sudden energy, sitting upright and grasping at your phone, tea wobbling over the lip of the mug and running down your wrist. “Should we go to Bali in August?” 
You avoid both of your footballers right until the World Cup camps roll around. 
Leah doesn’t get to go, subjected to the ACL curse. Alexia’s call-up is not necessarily unexpected, but you do find yourself wondering how many more betrayals her friendship with Mapi León can handle. (Mapi is on her last straw, but she knows her friend really needed the win after her hellish year. The Champion’s League was never going to sate Alexia’s hunger to be the best at football – possibly an overcompensation for her terrible relationship skills.)
Your children, this time, are delivered to the park by their very own mother. Alexia beats Leah in this sense, because she has a valid excuse to see you without confessing feelings you do not want to hear. 
“I have something for you,” she says just after she has finished her goodbyes, pressing a small box into your hands. Her voice is filled with nerves and you are intrigued, hating yourself for being so. “Don’t open it until you get back home.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. I’m sorry, they seem to say. “Alright, have fun in Bali, and don’t forget that I legally have custody but I am not going to go to court to battle you for it as long as you put them in Spain kits for Spain matches.” 
She could, if she wanted to be difficult, have you send Nico and Elena to New Zealand during her weeks. It would be very unreasonable, but the contract your lawyers drew up still stands. 
“They were delivered yesterday. I think it’s going to be a struggle to convince them to put on the worst kit ever.” You still don’t forgive Alexia for cheating on you, but there has come a point where acceptance replaces the animosity. Nico’s teacher has been the catalyst in this step forward. The developmental pamphlets she had thrust in your faces were enough for the two of you to come to a mutual agreement of increased civility (that maybe, maybe was only made possible by the fact that you have very recent memories of each other’s orgasms). “But, yes, I agree to your terms. Don’t forget that his favourite player is Alessia Russo, however.” 
“He is in a phase where I am ‘uncool’! It’ll pass.” 
“If you say so, Alexia.” 
“Anyway,” she carries on, rolling her eyes. “Open it when you get home.” She… presses a kiss to your cheek? “I’m so sorry, mi amor.” 
You blink back your surprise, but she is gone before you can reply. 
The small, neatly-wrapped box sits in the palm of your hand, the corners edging off your skin and sticking out as you stare at it. Nico and Elena continue their (unsupervised) playing, but you manage to call out a warning for ‘five more minutes and then we’ve got to pack’ while you examine Alexia’s gift.
Is this how Pandora felt? 
If you open it, what will be unleashed?
Alexia, before now, hasn’t actively pursued your forgiveness. She has given you the time and the space you had broken-heartedly requested, nodding as you communicated your wishes to her through someone else, never before able to confront the face that tore up your life before your eyes. 
There was a time when all you ever wanted to do was talk to her, but she tried to forget about that when she realised the extent at which you went to avoid an interaction. When she had understood your desperation to be left alone fully, she began to breathe. The step backwards gave her room to examine just how royally she had fucked it all. 
She now feels a bit more capable of tackling the clean-up, working with a much clearer mind. Everyone is relieved that she hasn’t killed herself, or, at least, that she is keeping those thoughts at bay. 
You realise that she has bought you a ring, and regardless of whether you wear it or not, she wants to tell you that she is sorry.
...
IT'S NOT OVER YET! THIS WILL TAKE YOU TO THE SECOND HALF
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scoonsalicious · 5 months
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3.3 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, brunch, toxic plants.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Your coworkers warned you about the history of the Winter Soldier.
A/N: Time for Brunch!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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Bucky held the diner door open, allowing Lily to walk in first. It was a sort of tradition of theirs– brunch every other Saturday at Melinda’s, a cute little cafe about a twenty minute drive from the Compound– that they’d been doing for years now.
“I’m so glad to finally be spending some time together,” Lily said as she slid into their usual booth by the window. “I feel like it’s been ages.”
Bucky chuckled as he picked up his menu– not like he didn’t already know exactly what he was going to get: a black coffee, scrambled eggs with sausage and bacon, a plate of home fries, and a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes. “Lil, we hung out last night,” he told her.
“Last night doesn’t count,” she pouted, picking up a sugar packet from the little ceramic container on the table and beginning to play with it. 
Bucky put down the menu. “Why not?” he asked.
Before she could answer him, the waitress came to take their order. Bucky liked her– Mya; she was always friendly and put an extra pancake on the pile for him, free of charge.
“Hey there, Buck,” she greeted warmly, “Lily. Good to see you two again.”
“Hey, Mya,” Bucky replied with a dazzling smile. “How are you this morning? How’s Frankie?” Mya was a single mother, working two jobs, so Bucky always made sure to tip well and inquire about her son.
“He’s good, Buck; thanks for asking. He really appreciates the autographed Avengers picture you got for him; brought it to school for Show & Tell and everything.”
Bucky laughed good naturedly. “My pleasure,” he said. “They always make us take those dumb publicity photos; figured something good should come outta them.”
“Well, he’s very grateful, all the same,” she said with a grin. “How are–”
“I’ll take a Cobb salad, no bacon, dressing on the side, and a Diet Sprite. Thank you,” Lily interjected, smile tight.
Mya blinked a few times before replying “Yeah, sure, absolutely,” as if she hadn’t just been interrupted. She turned to Bucky. “The usual for you, Buck?” she asked.
“Yeah, please. Thanks, Mya.” Mya took their menus and, promising their food would be right out, walked away. Bucky followed her with his eyes to make sure she was well out of earshot before he turned back to Lily. “What the hell, Lil?” he asked her.
“What?” she asked, seemingly nonchalantly. “I’m hungry.”
“So, you couldn’t wait five seconds for her to finish speaking?” he asked accusingly. 
“Hey, she gets paid to serve, not to flirt,” Lily snapped. 
Bucky rolled his eyes as he leaned back. “You always think everyone’s flirting with me. We were just talking about her kid. What is with you today?”
Lily sighed and looked up at him, blue eyes turning sad. “I’m sorry– I’m just tired. I told you, I didn’t sleep well last night, and it’s making me cranky. Don’t be too mad at me, okay, Jamie?” She smiled and reached her hand across the table to grab his. “It’s your fault, after all.” She winked at him.
Bucky smiled and squeezed her hand. “I told you I was sorry,” he said. “And now I’m making it up to you by buying you brunch. Gotta take care of my best girl, right?” Lily beamed at him. 
“Right,” she agreed with a nod. “Hey, just out of curiosity, where did you end up staying last night? Did you go back to the Tower?” Though Tony Stark had moved the Avengers operation to the Compound Upstate, he still utilized the Tower for Stark Industries, and kept apartments available there for the team to use if they found themselves in the city overnight.
Bucky pulled his hand back from hers and scratched the back of his neck. Lily squinted her eyes at him, and he knew he’d just revealed a sure tell that he’d done something she’d not be pleased with. 
“Oh my god, Bucky,” Lily said angrily. “Do not tell me you stayed the night with Nat’s friend.” The way she said ‘friend,’ with her voice getting incredibly shrill at the end, had Bucky inwardly cringing. 
“Well, by the time I got her back to her place,” Bucky defended, “it was already pouring. Wouldn’t’ve been safe for me to head back in those conditions.”
Lily seemed to be mulling over his words. “I guess,” she said, after a moment. “So, what? You sleep on the couch?”
For some reason, Bucky couldn’t get the words out to tell his best friend the truth– that, no, he hadn’t slept on Major’s couch. In fact, he’d slept on her bed, but it didn’t really count, because the two of them had hardly done any sleeping at all. Instead, he just brought his coffee cup to his lips, took a long sip, and nodded.
“Good,” said Lily, seeming satisfied with his answer. “I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with her. She was a total bitch.”
Bucky frowned. He realized that the interaction between Major and Lily last night had been… tense, but he fully hadn’t expected that she would call Major a bitch and tell him she didn’t want him to spend time with her. “She was just defending herself, Lil,” he said cautiously. “You were kinda out of line with that anti-girly stuff.”
Lily gave him a wounded look. “I cannot believe you would take the side of a complete stranger over your own best friend,” she said, looking affronted. “She was incredibly rude to me.”
Mya returned then with their meals, and Bucky waited until she had walked away before continuing: “I’m not siding with anyone. I just think you should take into consideration that you were rude to her, first, Lil. She was acting defensive because you put her on the defensive.” 
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Lily crossed her arms, pouting.
“Lil, doesn’t it bother you that you don’t have any female friends?” he asked carefully.
She scoffed. “What do I need female friends for?” she asked. “They just wanna talk about stupid girl shit and it’s dull and boring. Besides, I have you. I don’t need other friends.”
It struck Bucky then how very sad that seemed. Sure, he didn’t have many friends, himself; just Steve, Lily, Sam, and the team, but he was a 100-plus year old, formerly brainwashed, ex-assassin with PTSD and a list of issues a mile long, so it was to be expected. But Lily? Surely a young, vibrant person like her should be hanging with more people than just him?
“This was what Major was talking about,” Bucky said gently, choosing to ignore his observation for the time being. “You can think feminine things are dull, and boring, but it’s not fair of you to consider them stupid just because you don’t enjoy them. And it’s definitely not cool of you to look down on people who do.”
To Bucky’s dismay, Lily’s bottom lip began to tremble, and he feared she was going to start crying. “Why are you mad at me?” she pouted. 
Bucky felt his facial features soften as he looked at her. “I’m not mad at you, Lil. I just think that, maybe, you should reconsider your stance on some things, that’s all.”
Lily seemed to consider his words for a moment, before she broke out into a giant grin. “Okay, Jamie,” she said, digging back into her Cobb salad. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do better.”
Well, Bucky thought, that went better than expected.
They ate companionably for a while after that, sharing small talk and enjoying each other’s company. When it came time to leave, Bucky paid the bill, making sure to leave a little extra for Mya to make up for Lily’s earlier rudeness. 
As they were walking out, Lily interlocked her arm with his. “Do you want to do a movie night at my place tonight?” she asked. Since Lily was a member of SHIELD, and not an Avenger proper, she didn’t have an apartment at the Compound. Instead, like most of the other agents who were based there, she had a place of her own in town. Usually, Bucky relished spending time at her place, where it was quiet and far less crowded. 
But then Bucky remembered he’d asked Major out to dinner for this evening. “Shit, Lil,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with his vibranium hand. “I can’t tonight; I’m sorry.”
“What, you abandoning me for a hot date or something?” The words were phrased as a joke, but there was an edge to her voice that told Bucky she was genuinely afraid that was why he was saying no.
He let out a forced laugh. “Of course not,” he said, immediately wondering why he was lying to her. “I just, uh, promised Sam we’d do a guys’ night. You know how he gets if he thinks people aren’t paying enough attention to him.”
Lily scoffed. “He’s such a fucking drama queen,” she said.
“Heh, yeah.” Bucky sent out a silent apology to both Major and Sam for the lie, and hoped he could get Sam to back him up on it. He had told Bucky he’d be his wingman when it came to Major, after all.
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tan1shere · 9 months
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Ellie williams x female reader !
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A/n: ahhh new series alert ⚠️! Hope you guys enjoy part 1 I'll be working on part two over the next few days MUAH
Summary: Ellies the bad girl in the school but she takes a liking to the reader, everyone's worried but the reader somehow changes her for the better
Warnings: fluff, bad girl Ellie, not really anything flirting, swearing? This is set at college/uni so they're a bit older then 19? Mighttt have smut in future chapters !
Masterlist || pt 2 ! Pt 3 !
It was frightening being the new girl. You were shy, very shy. You didn't know at all how to make friends, wandering the halls with your books clutched to yourself. It was overwhelming with how many people there were, you just wanted to get to your last class then go to your second home. The library. You had been waiting all day to finish and head straight there. You had heard good things about the schools library. It was massive, full of so many books. Old and full of memories, it was ancient.
You just sat down in a chair for your last class of the day when some girls approached you. "Oi, dork." You look up from your book seeing a tall brunette with a few blue streaks in it. You await her words, wondering what she wanted. "You new here or something? I don't recognize you." You nod. "I am yeah." She looks down at your books. "Stella." You keep your gaze on her. "Oh- im-" She gets down to your level. "I don't care. You're in my seat." You look at where you were and giggle just a bit. "What are we 16?" You fucked up. She slams her hands down on the desk making you jolt back.
"Wrong. Answer." You widen your eyes, swallowing. "S-sorry." You stutter, going to get up when a hand gets placed on your shoulder. You turn your head to a tall copper haired girl. "Leave her be Stella." She stares coldly at her. Stella just smirks. "You haven't called me back Williams." You look at the girl beside you. "Yeah cuz I don't keep in contact with egotistical sluts like you." You almost gasp, shocked by her language. "Harshhh. No need to get bitchy." The girl chuckles. "Youre one to talk. Pestering someone so innocent. Just sitting there minding her own business." Stella looks at the girl like she's crazy. "And you're so different? You bug anyone and everyone." The girl pouts. "Sad it's not you? Is that burning your ego even more?" Stella rolls her eyes. "Whatever." She spits going to leave.
"You alright?" The girl asks. You nod, putting your hair behind your ears. "Thank you." She nods also. "I'm Ellie. You're new huh?" You nod again, not use to all these people conversing with you. "Well I'll see you round new girl." You watch as she walks to the back of the class to her seat, sitting by another man and woman. She intrigued you for some reason. You had no idea what it was but, you wanted to know.
You were happy, smiling and walking briskly to the library, ready to wind down from a day of classes. You open the old wood doors, they were tall, with carvings and designs. You step inside taking in everything, the smell, the quietness. It was your new happy place. You stride in going over to each section. You were just admiring it all for now but you were determined to find this book you've been meaning to read. As you browse you suddenly come across it, your smile widens, getting on your tip toes to reach it. "Curse being so short." You mutter to yourself.
"Need some help there, new girl?" You turn around to be faced with the copper haired girl yet again. "Oh uhm. Yeah actually." You laugh a little embarrassed. "Struggles of being short." She nods, reaching to grab it with ease. "Glad I was here to help then." She smiles giving it to you. "What're you doing in here?" You ask, not even knowing why you did, anyone could go in here. "Ouch, do I not look like the reading type?" You shake your head. "No no no I just-" She giggles. "I'm teasing you love. And I am a big reader actually." She looks at the book she gave you. "You're going to really enjoy that." You look at the book yourself. "I've been meaning to read it for so long." You admit.
"Well it's worth the read." She smiles. "So what's your name new girl?" You hug the book to your chest. "Y/n. But I- i don't mind the nickname you already give me." She smirks. "New girl? Alright then I shall call you that." It went silent. "So-" You then hear stomping, turning your head. "Ellie leave this poor girl alone." A dark haired woman comes by her. "I'm not even doing anything just casually speaking." Ellie replies. "We should get going anyway, come on." The woman begins to walk off. Ellie looks at you. "I'll see you around, again. New girl." You keep your gaze on her as she goes. Thinking about how most people view her, confused by it all.
Knocking on the door of your dorm, you had just found it. Watching as the door opens. "HI can I help you?" A girl is in sight, giving you a toothy smile. "Uhm im your new roommate." You give her a smile also. "Ahh, well come on in." She moves out the way inviting you in. "How come you didn't do this, this morning?" She genuinely asks. "I wanted to get straight into it, I decided to come back and unpack later." You look around at the cute little dorm room. "Well, all your stuff is in your room, make yourself comfy." She smiles at you, going into the kitchen. You return the smile, heading into your room. It was tiny but just the perfect fit for you. You begin to unpack setting everything out nicely and to how you like.
Once you're happy with how everything looks, you go out into the main area, seeing your roommate. "I'm Angela by the way, everyone just calls me Angie." You nod. "I'm Y/n." She nods. "Its nice to meet you. How has your first day been?" She pours herself a coffee. "Want a drink?" You shake your head. "I'm ok, thank you though. And it was good, classes were good. I got to see the library which was probably the highlight of my day." You smile, going to sit on the couch. "Its pretty cool isn't it." She smiles sipping on her coffee. "Hey, do you know someone called Ellie Williams?" She stares at you. "You don't wanna get involved with her, she's bad news." You furrow your brows. "Wait why?" You inquire. "She's a complete asshole. She will hurt you, and you're too sweet to be involved with someone as putrid as her."
You look at the couch in thought. Why was she such an asshole, she seemed really nice. "Can you tell me more?" You ask, looking at her. She strides over to the couch taking a seat next to you. "Ellie doesn't care about anyone but herself. She'd hurt you just to please herself." You ponder. "But she was nice to me-" She shakes her head. "Its all an act, don't fall for any of it ok?" You just nod. She gives you a reassuring smile. "Right well I'm going to start on some dinner, you in the mood for anything in particular?" She begins to go back into the kitchen. "I'm not fussy." "Awesome." She smiles.
Voices. You heard voices as you woke up, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. You put a brown robe on, peaking your head out the door to see. "No Williams. You're fucking creepy." You try to make out more of the conversation. "I'm not being creepy I was just wondering if she was here or if she had left already. Is that a crime?" Angie let's out a dry chuckle. "Yeah with you it is one. Leave her alone Ellie. Shes a sweet girl, she doesn't need your games." You hear the door shut. What did Ellie even want? You shake your head out of your thoughts, deciding to ignore it and get on with the day.
"New girl wait up!" You hear from behind you, fast footsteps coming closer. You turn your head. "Oh, hi." Ellie comes to a halt. "I've been looking for you all morning." You furrow your brows slightly. "Whys that?" You ask, still keeping your text books close. "I wanted to show you another book that you might be interested in." She starts to walk with you to your first class. "We can go to the library later and check it out." You nod, but suddenly think about why everyone is not fond of her when she's so nice to you. "What's it about?" "Just like the one you had yesterday but a different style and author. I think you'll like it." You nod, coming to your class. "Well I'll see you later, Ellie." She smirks. "See you, new girl."
It was on your mind all day, could you really trust this mysterious woman. You had only met her, and from what you had heard it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. You were walking down to the library as it was now the end of the day, you were planning to study a little bit in there also. Going in you spot Ellie immediately, she gives you a smile signaling to come over to her. She was sitting in one of the maroon colored chairs. "Hey." You say setting your stuff down and joining her in one of the chairs. "Have a good day?" She inquires. You nod. "Yeah it wasn't too bad. Yours?" She nods also. You look at her hands, at the book she held. "Right yes, the thing you've been waiting all day for." You sit up a bit, looking at her. "Give the one you got yesterday a read first then read this one, and let me know what you think about it."
She hands it to you, you give her a smile taking in her words. "Thank you for this." She leans back and smiles. "You're welcome angel." She looks at all your other books. "You going to study?" You nod. "Yeah just some history stuff I'm going to work on." You bring out all your supplies, stuffing the book she gave you in your shoulder bag. "Want some company?" You look at her. "Sure, company can't hurt." You smile still at one another. "I'll just be doing my own stuff." You watch as she gets out her own book, you look at it further. "Are you studying too? What subject." She looks at you. "Meh no just personal pleasure." You look more at it, it was a sketch book. "You draw?" She gets the last of her supplies. She nods at your question. "Yeah I do, guess that's another thing you didn't peg me to do huh?" You laugh a little bit. "I didn't, no. How long have you done it for?" She fully looks at you now.
"Since I was young." You look at the book again. "Can i see some of your work?" She nods, opening it up and giving it to you. You examine them, flipping the pages, she was incredible. "These are amazing." You continue to flick through, coming across some colorful ones. You admire them. "You like that one?" She noticed how you looked at it. "Its so beautiful the color, is this done with paints?" You trace your finger over it lightly. "It is yeah, you like paintings?" You look at her fully. "I actually paint myself." She sits back in the chair again. "Well what do you know. Learning new things about you every second new girl." She smirks at you intrigued. "Well, Ellie what about you." She leans forward. "What do you mean by that." You contemplate on whether or not you should ask.
"Why are you so nice to me. You don't even know me." You state. "Well, that's a good question, and I know exactly why you've asked it. Don't listen to them I may not be perfect but I'm not a monster. You interested me. No one here's, ever interested me like you have, so I took liberty into getting to know you." That's it, why do people hate her so much. Which brings you to your next question. "Why do people not like you." She let's out a tiny laugh. "You're very interested too huh. I'm not a sweet angel. I don't follow by anyone's expectations, or rules. I make some not so great choices, but I dont really care most of the time." You listen to everything. "But why me, im so ordinary." She looks at you, deeply this time. "Not to me. I see something in you, I'm drawn to it."
You look at her shoes, something you always did, it always told you about the person. She had worn out converses on. "I want to get to know you more." She grabs your hand, making you look at her. You look into her eyes as she does so. "I want to get to know you too." She smiles, letting go of your hand and sitting back in the chair. "What do you paint?" She asks, but looking at her sketch book. "Nothing special I just normally work with water colors and some paints, I just do whatever is on my mind, it may not make sense to others but I envision it and just, do." She looks up listening. "I admire that. I might have to check some of your work out sometime." You smile and nod. "Yeah I'm sure that could be arranged." You wanted to continue studying but you couldn't help but get distracted by her.
She was without a doubt beautiful she had a messy half way mullet looking haircut. Green eyes like emeralds. Light freckles coating her face, as she concentrates. Her grungy clothing, hanging baggy over her body. You were so mesmerized by this woman, so far she's made you feel so, real. "What're you drawing?" She doesn't respond right away. Still looking at her paper, but she looks up at you. Keeping silent and looking back at the paper. You look at her with confusion. "Ellie?" She continues to sketch whatever it was she was scribbling at. But once she was done she looks at you, flashing a smirk. She moves, keeping the book to her but ripping one of the pages out and handing it to you upside down. "See you tomorrow new girl. You'll have to give me a tour of your paint work, I'll hold you to it." She smiles as she goes to leave. You watch but then you look at your lap, at the drawing. It was of you. You smile to yourself, looking at every detail. You keep looking, spotting a note in the corner. 'Meet me at my dorm ####, tomorrow morning -E' you keep smiling to yourself. This was just the beginning.
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noroi1000 · 1 year
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Hello! Can I request something like the day you became his mate (werewolf au) but this time with gojo? I really enjoyed the geto fic!! You're really an amazing writer you got me into jjk again so thank you for that. I hope you have a wonderful day! You can delete this if you aren't taking request with the honored one event (which I really love)
I want to have a Mate
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Author: I am very glad that you like my works. I appreciate it very much. And I love you all Anon-chan. I don't accept requests for the event, but I did it as a normal request outside of the event. You wrote to me just when my requests were open, so there was no problem. This is pretty short because I still have a lot to write for you. But I tried to make it good
Werewolf Gojo x reader
Warnings: Short NSFW
Words: 1,4k
Summary: Gojo wanted a mate. And I really wanted to feel what it was like. And suddenly you appeared, Shoko's friend. He couldn't miss the opportunity when he probably found a mate.
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"I want to have a Mate."
"What?"
"You know... Moments when you have a mate are nice..."
"Satoru, are you suddenly talking about wanting a mate? What happened to you?"
"You want a mate too! Say it straight! Everyone wants a mate! I want one too!"
"You know it's not fun?" he asked with a smile. "Mate is the person you will be with for the rest of your life."
"I want mate..."
"I know... You said yourself that everyone wants a mate..." He leaned on the bench they were sitting on.
"How am I supposed to find a partner?" he asked.
His ears appeared on his head, as did his tail under his hoodie.
Something he liked to do because it looked cool.
His ears drooped slightly as he was slightly sad about it.
"You have to search. You can't be sure who it will be or when. You just have to walk among people. Your intuition will guide you."
"Do you think it'll be a woman or a man?" White Hair asked for no reason.
"Who?" He looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"My mate."
"Heh... Satoru, no one knows who your mate will be! You'll know when you meet her or him. Besides, does it matter?" He chuckled lightly.
"Only a female mate will give me puppies in the future, right?"
His dark-haired friend widened his eyes.
"Who are you and what have you done with my friend." He pointed at him.
"Hah?'
"The Satoru I know never talked about having kids!"
"Isn't it obvious that I'd like to have a Mate and then maybe puppies?!"
"My friend is coming. So I'm leaving soon. I don't have time to spend all day here." He stood up, rubbing his temple.
"T-Wait!" shouted Gojo, getting up.
Geto turned to look at him.
"When will I know that someone is destined for me as a mate?"
He smiled slightly.
His friend was probably old enough to think about it.
Every one of their species wants a mate.
And that comes at different points in time.
The fact that his friend talked about mate now only means that he really wanted to.
"The first time you met." He said. "I met my mate in a store. And then I had to work to prevent her from getting married."
"At least you have a mate..." he suddenly leaned over his friend's shoulder and looked at the woman who was walking towards them. The dark haired man smiled. "Who is it?"
"Suguru." The girl called as she approached them.
"Hello." He said with a smile.
"Shoko told me to go with you, so let's go." You pointed to the road behind you.
"Where are you going?" asked the White Haired.
"Oh, Satoru, that is (y/n), we met when Shoko invited us to her birthday party. She is a friend of Shoko. (y/n), this is Satoru."
"Hello." You smiled slightly at him, looking at the ears on his head, which turned more forward as you spoke to him.
"We're going to Shoko. She probably wants to beat me again for something. We'll meet after that."
White Hair's ears couldn't stop hearing your voice.
His eyes couldn't stay away from you. He felt his heart beating faster.
His tail involuntarily began to fluff and waved slightly from side to side.
He felt something pulling him towards you.
And his friend's words echoed in his ears. Mate can be recognized so suddenly. When least expected...
Did he just...
Did he just meet someone who is supposed to be his mate?
"We can talk?" he asked, turning his head to the side.
Suguru nodded his head, also telling you to wait a while.
Gojo remembered you.
At Shoko's birthday. You were pretty cool. But he didn't talk to you much.
And now... Are you his mate?
Standing behind a tree, Geto looked at his friend's strange behavior.
"Satoru, what's going on?" he asked, watching its tail.
"You said mate can be found anytime..." he said more quietly, and held his tail in his hand as he still couldn't stop waving it.
The black haired man froze for a moment.
"Wait... Did you just...?!" he took a step back.
Gojo turned his head to the side, a tiny blush on his cheek.
"Did you just see your mate in (y/n)?!"
The white haired man crossed his arms over his chest.
"Shoko will kill you!"
"I was at her birthday, I already met her... So maybe..."
"But-" he muttered, not knowing what to say.
"You also met your mate suddenly." He groaned, and suddenly came out from behind the tree. Going your way.
"Satoru." he called.
He turned around for a moment.
"You can't just walk up to her and say she's your mate!"
"Why not?"
"Because she's not a werewolf, she's a human."
"You also have a human mate."
"It's the same as with a normal relationship. You have to get to know her and make her feel something for you. You can't just walk up and do what you want!"
"Tch... Fine..." he groaned, looking offended and sad.
"Do not be sad. I know she'll like you. As long as you're nice to her. And you won't be talking about mate and puppies right away."
"Do you really think so?!" He said suddenly pleased.
"Invite her on a date, meet her. But don't you dare earn her anything. Shoko will kill you and me for this."
"If Suguru found out... Ah... He'd kill me..." He moaned before connecting your lips with his.
As he pushed his hips into yours. Feeling you tremble under him.
Surely you were with him faster than mate Suguru with him.
This was what he could be proud of.
Because after only five dates alone, and about three times together, you became a couple.
Until finally he told you that you are his mate. Because he sensed it from the very first meeting.
He kept putting his face against your neck as you cuddled, and when he finally explained to you why he was doing it, you made a difficult decision.
He loved you sincerely.
You fell in love with him too.
The fact that he's a werewolf made him fall in love with you. You were attracting him as his destined mate.
That's why you were in a difficult position.
Once you agree to be his mate and not just his girlfriend, you'll be with him for the rest of your life.
He was already jealous and acted like a brat most of the time, not letting you go where he couldn't and knew there might be another guy.
You don't mind him and you love him.
But being his mate will mean he won't see the world outside of you. That he will only care about you. He will look after you.
Especially when you heard from Suguru that you have to be careful because Satoru is neither an omega nor a beta werewolf. Satoru, like Suguru, is an alpha.
And alphas are always on guard and sometimes overprotective of their omega partner.
In your case, it was you.
Suguru told you to think about it. Because if you do, you will be "bound to Satoru for the rest of your life and nothing will ever separate you."
You had a difficult choice.
To listen to your friend who wanted to take care of you, or to listen to your heart telling you that you love Satoru and are able to live with him for the rest of your life as his mate.
You chose what you wanted.
That's why you were lying under a tall, handsome, white-haired werewolf who spread your legs possessively to show the dominance of the alpha male over the omega.
You won't be able to fully understand this Alpha-Omega just yet. But when you spend the rest of your life with him, you'll learn even more.
You moaned loudly as he drove his hips into yours, holding your bodies in that position.
"He told you to make a choice... Huh..." he laughed, licking your neck before his sharp teeth came out and grated against your skin. "And you chose what you wanted, didn't you?"
You shivered as he pressed harder into you.
"I could have chosen... Between keeping you at a distance so I had time to think... Ngh... Or going to you right away..."
"And a good girl chose to be my mate~." He smiled at you with a toothy grin. "Little omega mate for big, strong alpha..."
All you heard was his chuckle in your ears and your heart beating.
"You chose very well." He laughed in a low voice, and looked at your neck, licking his lips. "I wanted my mate. And now I have. And I will have forever."
And suddenly he dived in to grab your skin on the side of your neck in his teeth to bite and leave marks.
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