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chaisreading · 2 months

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broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

alexia putellas x reader

In which Alexia is an excellent footballer yet a terrible, terrible girlfriend. You still love her nonetheless.

Alexia never had much experience with the love that she saw in movies: all the hugs and the “I love you”s and the heart-to-heart conversations. Alexia thought they were too cliché anyway. Especially the “I love you”s. Some people give proclamations of love too easily and not mean a single thing.

Her sister loved to laugh every time people misjudged Alexia to be someone emotionless and cold, when in reality she was just “an awkward introvert who’s terrible at anything related to love and romance and all that jazz,” (Alba’s words).

Although Alexia would say that that was false. Just because she turned awkward whenever someone showed a bit of affection didn’t mean that Alexia sucked at romance. Alexia had watched enough Nicholas Sparks movies to understand what she had to do when the time came. Flowers. Chocolates. Kissing in the rain. Simple.

(“Simple. Yup, definitely. That’s obviously why you’re still single at the age of thirty.”

“Excuse me! Puta.”

“Should I set you up with someone? Yeah. I’m gonna set you up with someone.”

“Alba, fuck off.”)

So maybe Alexia was thirty and still single. So what? Alexia just never thought of relationships to be that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t because of how she was as a person “distant and reserved”—or so how Alba described her to be. Her job was already taking too much of her time as it is.

Alexia was the best footballer in the world, and aside from trainings and matches to play, it also required back-to-back meetings and her full attention and wow, Alexia really was going to die alone as a cat lady which was so much worse because she was allergic to cats.

“Your turn, Ale.”

Alexia turned her gaze towards Mapi. It was media day at the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Alexia always had loathed doing interviews but it was part of the job. “How was it?”

“Fine as usual,” Mapi shrugged, flopping on the empty bench next to Alexia. “Have a feeling you will enjoy this one though.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, moving to stand up. “Why?”

Mapi had a cheeky look on her face. “The interviewer is definitely your type.”

Alexia threw her jacket at Mapi’s face, causing the latter to laugh. “I will gladly say I told you so later! Just you wait!”

Alexia entered one of the rooms that was designated for her interview. It was going to be a fun and lighthearted video. Alexia couldn’t really remember the name of the media that she was assigned to, she had a lot on her mind lately.

Especially since her family was throwing a get-together over the weekend and now both her mother and Alba were pestering her over bringing someone. Alba putting ideas into Eli’s head that Alexia should be seeing someone at this age and Eli quickly agreeing that she was spending too much time on football—

“Miss Putellas? Hi, nice to meet you.”

Alexia’s mouth went agape.

“I’m y/n and this is my team, Robert and Camila. Thank you for having us.”

On second thought, maybe Alba was right. Maybe Alexia really was destined to be the typical career woman who focused too much on work and never had time for love, especially since she was cold and distant and was really, really downright terrible at romance, because there was no way that her heart was doing somersaults when she should be working. This was awful timing. She was so unprofessional.

Her heart was definitely not skipping a beat because of an interviewer who looked to be in her twenties—oh god, Alexia was definitely not crushing on someone who looked like she was still in university.

But the moment you smiled, Alexia knew she was screwed

—

“Fuck you, Alba.”

“Well, Alexia Putellas, just so you know I do have hundreds of girls lining up wanting to fuck me.”

Alexia groaned into her phone. “First of all, ew! Not funny. I hate you.”

Alba laughed. “What did I do this time?”

“You planted these stupid, stupid thoughts into my head! I was thinking about being single so much that you made me have a crush on someone who’s supposed to interview me—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How is this my fault?”

“I don’t know!” Alexia exclaimed. “I went into the room and she was there with her stupid cute vest and little notebook in hand and her hair was brown and wavy but not too wavy, it was just perfect the way it falls perfectly down her shoulders and her stupid smile. She was smiling at me, Alba. At me. Smiling.”

“Oookay,” Alba dragged out. “When I said you should find someone I didn’t mean a sugar baby.”

“Alba!”

“What? An interviewer? Journalist? I doubt she’s making a lot per year—”

Alexia groaned even more. “Please don’t go around saying shit like this to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Whatever, you’re no help,” Alexia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, making sure that she looked fine. Not that she wanted to impress you—she just wanted to look fine to someone who was going to interview her. Yeah, that was it. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Going back to your new lover?”

“Shut up,” Alexia unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. “I ran to the bathroom because I freaked out.”

Alba’s laugh was so loud that people in the hallways glanced at Alexia as she passed by. “Real smooth. You're totally good at romance. An expert. The real life Romeo—”

Alexia hung up and plopped her phone in the pocket of her tracksuit. She could get through this. She had played in front of thousands, she went through people criticizing her every move as if they were better than her. She wasn’t nervous then, why should she be nervous now?

“Sorry, where were we?” Alexia said as soon as she reentered the room. She took her seat, you on the other side of the camera, still with that damn smile on your face.

“I was just about to tell you that I have always wanted to interview you,” you replied.

“Me?” Alexia squeaked, immediately clearing her throat nervously.

—No, not nervously. Alexia didn’t get nervous. Fuck.

“Yes. You’re a very interesting person,” you fidgeted with the notepad and pen in your hands, your shoes tapping on the floor slightly. Alexia realized that you were nervous, and somehow the thought placed a smile on her face.

“How long have you been working for …Dazn? You could pass as someone who hasn’t graduated university—not that I’m saying you’re not qualified to do your job or anything, you just look really young- not that it’s a bad thing! Lo siento. I’ll just stop talking.”

Real smooth, Alexia. Real smooth.

“Well,” you chuckled. “To answer your question, one: just for a little while and two: you’re kind of right.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled bashfully. “I’m twenty-five years old, still in university, but for my masters.��

“I see,” Realization dawned on Alexia’s face and she had to look to the side to hide away her smile. A five year age gap. Not bad at all.

…Not that it was important, though. Definitely not important. “What are you majoring in?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Isn’t this supposed to be me interviewing you?”

Alexia laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Should we jump into it then?”

“Fire away.”

—

As soon as you left, Alexia couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether it was because of how stupidly charming you were or because of your addictive smile—okay, no. It was probably not because of you at all. You, who she barely knew. You, with the stars in your eyes, staring at Alexia as if you adored her to bits and wanted to know every single detail about her, including Alexia’s favourite food.

“She asked the question out of nowhere, Albs. We were talking about the upcoming season the second before.” Alexia recalled.

“That does seem pretty random.” Alba replied in between bites of her food.

“Right?! It was like she was done with all her questions, but she wanted to get to know me further—”

Alexia’s sentence was cut off by Alba’s laughter. “Don’t get too cocky now, Ale. Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she’s into you too.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on her. I can admit she’s attractive. And funny. And smart. Does not mean I have a crush on her.”

“Seems like you do,” Alba said, a smirk forming on her lips. “Which is great! Haven’t I been telling you to find someone? This is super great.”

“I’m not gonna date someone years younger than me, Alba,” Alexia cut into her steak and took a bite. Yup. She wasn’t going to date someone who was five years younger than her.

“She’s twenty-five, that’s nothing.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of her. “…How do you know her age? I never told you her age.”

“Google exists,” Alba said simply. “And remember the girl I’m sort-of-seeing-but-not-really?”

“Marta,” Alexia nodded.

“Maria,” Alba corrected. “She’s your girl’s best friend.”

Alexia paused her fork mid-air. “What?”

Alba hummed. “They're on the way here as we speak.”

“What?!” Alexia repeated, a clang echoing throughout her dining room as her fork fell to her plate.

“I invited them over for drinks.”

Alexia palmed her face and groaned. “I think I missed the part where you invited them over to my place without my acknowledgement.”

“Oh whatever, hermana,” Alba waved her off. “Stop acting as if I don’t live here.”

“You don’t,” Alexia reminded.

“Your place is my place and all that,” Alba teased.

“Alba,” Alexia felt like strangling Alba. Or anything to wipe that grin off her face—

The doorbell interrupted them.

Alba squeaked and jumped out of her chair. “That’s them!”

Alexia opened her mouth to say something but Alba was already out of the room before she could utter a word. Damn it.

Alexia forced herself to stay cool, following after Alba and sighing when she neared the front door and saw a girl she’d seen in Alba’s pictures and you.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted.

“Amor, this is my grumpy and very single sister, Alexia,” Alba pointed at Alexia and Alexia slapped Alba’s hand away.

“I’m Alexia,” Alexia put her hand out, her smile widening when she caught your eyes. Okay, so maybe she didn’t hate Alba that much.

“I know, wow, it’s an honor,” your best friend shook Alexia’s hands. “You’re a legend.”

Alexia laughs, her cheeks turning red. “Thank you.” She turned to you and gave a little wave. “I don’t think introductions are necessary, is it?”

“Hi, Miss Putellas,” you said. Alexia hated how addicted she was to your voice despite having just met you today.

“Oh no. Alexia is fine, please.”

“Okay then,” you grinned and Alexia swore she could die on the spot. “Alexia it is.”

—

“So, Alexia,” you started. You were seated on one couch, Alba and Maria occupying the smaller seater to your left. No one seemed to be paying attention to the movie anymore. Alexia couldn’t even remember what the damn plot of the movie was. You, as it turned out, smelled really good and it was very addicting—and Alexia was insane. Insane for developing a tiny crush on you when you two had just met today.

You looked like you didn’t know what to say, settling with, “Nice place.”

Alexia gave a soft laugh. “Thank you? There’s more that I haven’t shown you actually.”

“Yeah?” you sounded like you wanted to have Alexia show you around.

Alexia darted her eyes towards her sister and her ‘not-so-date’ to see that they had both fallen asleep. Alexia contemplated whether being alone with you would be something she should be doing or not, and after a moment she decided that there wasn’t any reason for her to not want to be alone with you.

So Alexia stood up and offered a hand out for you to take. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

—

Five minutes into being alone with you and walking around Alexia’s house—or mansion, as you called it—Alexia discovered five things about you.

You had two dogs, Salt and Pepper, and Alexia could tell how much you loved them with the way you excitedly told the story about how you got them.

You were an only child and your parents spoiled you to bits and they supported you in everything you did, all the way from the United States.

You were American.

You were taking your masters in sports science and Alexia made a mental note to talk to the physios at Barça on whether they have a vacant spot for you. Not because Alexia wanted to see you everyday, but because she was sure you were a certified genius.

You were hilarious and made Alexia laugh a lot. Alexia wanted more of you.

You were in the middle of retelling how your day went and Alexia somehow really wanted to kiss you, which was dumb and stupid, considering how she barely knew you.

You got excited over the littlest things, you talked animatedly about how you saw a dog on your way to Alexia’s place that looked a lot like your own and you gushed about how the dog barked excitedly at you. Alexia found it adorable, despite being confused on how a dog can bark ‘excitedly’.

“I’m sorry I talk a lot,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Don’t be,” Alexia bumped your shoulders lightly as you two continued your walk around her house. “It’s cute.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Alexia could see the red on the tips of your ears. Adorable. “Can we go outside?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Alexia led you towards the nearest door that leads to her backyard. “The pool is on the other side, this is my flower garden.”

“You have a flower garden,” you stated.

Alexia hummed in reply. “I love looking at flowers. They are pretty.”

Once you stepped outside, Alexia felt her teeth chatter, cursing herself for not wearing anything more appropriate for the cold night air. When she was about to ask you if you wanted to head back inside, a jacket was draped around her shoulders and Alexia was surrounded with the scent of your vanilla perfume.

“y/n, you don’t have to—”

“Take it,” you insisted. “You’re freezing.”

“You’re gonna freeze.”

Alexia shook off the black jacket and was about to place it around your shoulders but you walked ahead. “I won’t,” you walked backwards, smiling reassuringly. “I’m still wearing long-sleeves, see? I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Alexia hesitated for a second before putting on the jacket. Alexia hugged herself tighter, it was still cold but also because the jacket smelled really nice. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you replied. You stopped walking and Alexia would know this if she wasn’t so busy looking elsewhere but you.

The moment Alexia bumped into you, your hands immediately went to steady her, resting on Alexia’s forearms. Alexia could feel herself flush, her cheeks getting warm, profusely apologizing because she was usually never this clumsy.

You giggled, your hands were still sending fire to Alexia’s skin, your faces inches apart. “That’s okay.”

“I should’ve watched where I was going,” Alexia’s face was apologetic. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really,” you were smiling at her. “A lot on your mind today?”

Alexia studied your face and nodded. Definitely a lot. She noticed that you had a mole under your left eyebrow.

“Mind sharing?” you asked.

Alexia immediately stood up straighter and cleared her throat. You dropped your hands, but made no move to step away. “Just- work. Media day has never been my favourite.”

Yup. Work. Definitely not because Alexia couldn’t get your pretty eyes off her mind.

You narrowed your eyes at her and Alexia held her breath. You were really close. It was getting harder to breathe. All Alexia could think about was that vanilla was about to become her favourite scent.

“You’re very interesting.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows at that. “I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I saw you at training yesterday, you know. We had a briefing to prepare for today. You were… I wouldn’t say scary, but I was pretty sure your teammates were about to pee their pants.”

Alexia broke into a laugh. “What?”

“You had that furrow between your brows,” you elaborated, raising your hand and hesitantly running a finger across Alexia’s forehead. “And I could hear your stern captain voice,” you chuckled, dropping your hand. “But despite that you were still as charismatic and graceful as ever. I could see why people would be so intimidated by you.”

“And that’s interesting to you?” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice matching Alexia’s whisper. “Because while I was interviewing you earlier today and this whole night, you’ve been acting the opposite and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“The opposite?”

“You’re… awkward,” you laughed. “You take charge on the field, your chin held high, you look people straight in the eye when conversing with them. But you’re so awkward—you bump into me, you stutter, you can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds.”

Damn it. You were smart. Well, Alexia knew you were smart, but this was… this was you being able to read Alexia’s thoughts and damn. it.

Alexia couldn’t even defend herself because it was true. All the things you observed were true and what could Alexia exactly say to that? That Alexia acted that way because she was nervous? That being around you made her nervous? Which was baffling because Alexia had done speeches in front of thousands of people without tripping over her words once, yet one night with you and Alexia‘s vocabulary went out the window.

“Uh I’m sorry if that was overstepping,” you said, finally stepping backwards. “I was just stating what I saw.”

You looked really beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes casted downwards, your hands fidgety, as if you were doubting yourself about why you said all that. You looked nervous, perhaps about what Alexia would say next.

But despite everything, you looked really beautiful under the moonlight and Alexia figured that there was no harm in telling you that.

“You’re right,” Alexia laughed. “You’re absolutely right.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

You whipped your head up and looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “What?”

“I think you look really beautiful right now,” Alexia exhaled and stepped forward. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “That is why I’m so awkward around you. I just don’t know how to act. I get nervous around pretty girls.”

You laughed and Alexia took it as an opportunity to pull you in for a kiss, swallowing all your laughter.

Alexia became addicted to the scent of vanilla.

—

Turns out Alexia did suck at romance. She missed dates, forgot to call you back and was a bad texter. The first week Alexia didn’t think her thing with you was going to last. She really was terrible.

But weeks turned into months and despite the missed dinners, you stayed patient. You were there in her kitchen with takeout at 10 p.m., waiting for Alexia’s meeting to end. You were there at 7 in the morning before Alexia left for training, a bag of pastries in hand. Alexia would happily munch on her guilty pleasures on the way to training, quickly getting rid of any traces of crime from her nutritionists.

You didn’t get tired of her even though Alexia stupidly didn’t move an inch the first time you initiated a kiss. You only laughed when you first stayed the night at Alexia’s place and Alexia offered her bed while she slept in one of her spare bedrooms. You didn’t mind that you sent paragraphs of text only for Alexia to reply with one or two words—you didn’t get mad, instead you would call Alexia to get her reply because you knew Alexia preferred talking instead of texting.

And Alexia was never the one to show affection. Pats on the back between teammates were appropriate. Hugs were awkward. She kissed each of her exes once or twice.

You were different and you were persistent. You liked hugs. You hugged Alexia any chance you could get. You preferred to cuddle during movie nights and you liked to hug Alexia from behind when she was cooking dinner. The fact that Alexia tensed whenever you hugged her just made you hug her even tighter.

Strangely, Alexia didn’t find it uncomfortable. If she did, she would've said something. But Alexia actually liked your hugs.

(“Are all hugs like this?”

“What do you mean ‘are all hugs like this’?

“I don’t know, Alba. Like- you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

“God, you’re nauseating.”

“I’m asking a genuine question!”

“You are in love that's what it is.”)

Five months into your relationship, Alexia started to be the one initiating the hugs. She was more affectionate; intertwining your hand with hers when you walk side-by-side and kissing you goodbye in front of your friends, not caring about the whistles thrown at you.

Alexia still missed dates and phone calls, but strangely enough you still didn’t seem to mind. Alexia was left dumbfounded because how were you perfectly fine with all of this? There was a reason why Alexia’s past relationships never lasted.

“I know you’re busy, baby. And I know you’re trying your best too.” you once said. Alexia almost shed a tear because how were you so. damn. perfect?

After eight months of being together, Alexia was juggling her relationship and football much better. She canceled an important meeting for the first time ever because she promised that she would pick you and your parents up from the airport.

Alba called her crazy, and her past self definitely would agree with Alba. Alexia didn’t care though. The smile on your face when Alexia showed up with flowers in hand was priceless.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Hm?” Alexia looked to the side and found you staring at her. “Nothing.”

You laughed, setting your book aside and rested your head on Alexia’s chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around your smaller frame and kissed the top of your head.

“If you say so,” you lazily drew circles on Alexia’s stomach. “What should we get for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

“You always ask me what I want,” you giggled. “Can you choose for tonight?”

Alexia hummed in thought and after a moment she added, “Pizza it is.”

You immediately sat upright, a huge grin on your face. “You really are a mind reader, you know?”

Alexia shrugged, a smile at the corner of her lips. “I told you.”

You shook your head fondly, laughing as you laid back down to your previous position.

“I love you, Ale.”

I love you. Right. Alexia should probably say it back at some point.

But should she even say it back? Wasn’t that too soon? Alexia didn’t know when the appropriate time of reciprocating your girlfriend’s confession of love would be.

When she asked Alba about it, Alba questioned her back asking if the reason she hadn’t said it back was because she didn’t feel the same way you did—which was stupid. Alexia made sure to throw her popcorn across the couch, all the way to Alba’s face, because what kind of stupid question was that?

The first time you said those three words to Alexia, Alexia accidentally sliced her finger instead of the tomato on her chopping board. It was three months after you became official and Alexia wasn’t expecting it. Not that soon, at least. But you did and Alexia was so caught off guard that you two had to halt your cooking session and order sushi for dinner instead. Alexia didn’t bring up the topic again all night and you didn’t either.

Just because Alexia didn’t say it back didn’t mean she didn’t love you.

Or… maybe Alba was right. Did she love you?

You, who were the most understanding and loving person Alexia had ever met. You, who made her laugh in the mornings and made her laugh before she went to sleep. You, who were never mad at Alexia when she forgot to call despite promising that she would.

“Being in love with someone and just enjoying their company are completely different things, you know that right?”

“What?” Alexia looked at her sister in disbelief. “Of course I do.”

“Cool. So which one is it with you?”

“Which one?”

Alba rolled her eyes. “Are you in love with her or do you just like having her around?”

In Alexia’s defense, she didn’t have much experience of being in love. How was she supposed to know whatever that feeling was like? The only relationship she had was with Jenni and that didn't work out because they were both too busy to have a relationship. Was she ever in love with Jenni? Maybe not. A crush, sure. Jenni was an attractive woman.

Was it the same with you? Alexia liked you a lot, that was for sure. Was it so much to the point that it was love?

Alexia figured if this was Jenni, she wouldn’t have to think about this so much. Jenni didn’t care about love and all the cliché things. Alexia didn’t either.

And Alexia wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for the fact that you told Alexia you loved her every chance you got. (Alexia felt like the world’s biggest asshole every time you got silence instead of her saying it back).

When it rained and Alexia always held the umbrella for the two of you, making sure not a single droplet of rain fell on top of your head but ended up soaking wet herself, you would laugh and “I love you, Alexia Putellas.”

When you had to move out of your apartment and Alexia told you that you could stay with her until you found a place because she did have some spare rooms (even though you ended up sleeping in Alexia’s bed every night), “Really? Alexia Putellas, my saviour, thank you, I love you,” as you peppered her face with kisses.

When Alexia found out that Maria, your best friend, was also your first love, you reassured her that all your feelings for Maria were now strictly platonic. “She was my first love, but that was years ago. I love you. You’re my present and my future, Alexia Putellas.”

When you came home with Alexia for Christmas and some of her family members kept on sending wary glances towards you, you held Alexia’s hand on top of the dinner table and proclaimed your love for her for everyone to hear, your chin up and your tone proud. “I love Alexia. I’ll take care of her the best way I can.”

When Alexia would pick you up from classes, leaning against her grey Cupra, you would sprint towards her, a big smile on your face and a “You didn’t have to pick me up, I know you’re a busy woman. Love you.”

Every single time Alexia would return a smile or a kiss, never saying it back when she knew you were expecting it every single time. Alexia realized romance wasn’t as easy as she thought and this whole thing with you was bound to blow up if she didn’t get her shit together.

—

Turns out, it did blow up sooner than Alexia expected. She wished this point never came—she knew it would, she had been dreading it ever since—but Alexia cursed the stars for actually making it happen. She just wanted to at least hold you for another night.

You two were getting ready for bed, Alexia changing into her pyjamas while you were already tucked in bed and you two were fine.

Alexia was talking about her day, how her mom scolded her because she was five minutes late to breakfast (which was insane because it was only five minutes), about the meeting she had for a possible new brand deal, and how she missed you the entire day. And maybe Alexia should’ve noticed how quiet you were or how your body tensed the moment Alexia slid her arms under the cover and wrapped them around your waist.

When Alexia thought you had fallen asleep, you spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It was silent—so silent that Alexia could hear a hair pin drop. She didn’t know why this night felt different. Alexia didn’t know why there was an edge to your voice and why there was something else she couldn’t quite place.

You turned around to face your girlfriend. Alexia could make out the faint outlines of your face in the dark—she had memorized every single inch of you.

“I love you, Alexia,” you stated once more. This time Alexia could clearly hear the challenge in your tone.

Alexia stared back at you, a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Seconds passed by, Alexia saw the mixture of emotions all over your face. You were hurt, Alexia could tell. You looked angry too, this Alexia wasn’t expecting.

“Do you love me?”

Alexia was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “What?”

“Do. you. love. me?” your tone turned impatient.

Alexia was wide-eyed. This wasn’t where she was expecting this night to go. “y/n—”

You got up from the bed and Alexia followed suit. You two were standing in front of each other on the foot of the bed, you with your arms across your chest and a scowl on your face.

“Hey, what’s going on?

“‘What’s going on’?” you scoffed. “Do you love me or not? I asked you a simple question, Alexia.”

“I—” Alexia‘s voice got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like that she was being put on the spot like this either.

You stayed silent, an expectant look on your face. When Alexia didn’t say anything else, you let out a big sigh.

“y/n…” Alexia croaked out. She was afraid where this conversation would go.

You groaned, taking a fistful of your hair before exploding at Alexia. “It’s a simple fucking question, Alexia!”

Alexia was taken aback by your outburst. “I—”

You stepped forward, a fiery look in your eyes. “I. Love. You.” you punctured each word with a jab to Alexia’s chest.

Alexia stared into your eyes, seeing the mixture of rage, sadness and disappointment swimming around in them. Alexia knew she should say something—she should say the one thing she knew you wanted to hear. But why was it so hard for her to utter those words? Was it because she didn’t feel it? Or was it because she was scared? Alexia didn’t know, she needed to think, but you weren't letting her.

“You don’t love me, do you?” your tone was full of defeat. Alexia knew that it was now or never. She was going to lose you—really lose you—if she didn’t say something. “All this time you never said it. I tried to make sense of it, I tried to make sense of you. You got me flowers every week—sometimes even twice a week. You listen when I ramble about useless things, you accompany me to my lame university events, let people talk to you about politics and you never talk back to them even though I know you have opposite views on things. You just want my friends to like you. You remember all the dumb little things, remember when we first met and what I was wearing at that time. You tell me I look good even though I stayed up all night doing my assignments, you tell me I’m beautiful at five in the morning, at midnight, in the middle of the day. You look at me like you’re in love with me. Like you love me.”

You paused and took a deep breath. You gave a bitter laugh before looking straight into Alexia’s eyes. “You do all these things but you never told me that you love me. Not even once, Ale. And once upon a time, I believed you loved me. But I just—I don’t know anymore.”

Alexia stayed silent.

“You’re not even gonna say anything?”

Alexia stayed silent because she didn’t know how to say anything without hurting you even more.

“So it’s true, then?” your tone was full of defeat, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Alexia hated herself for being the cause of it.

“y/n,” Alexia whispered, her hands reaching out to touch you but you moved away. “I—”

“No,” you ran a hand through your hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Just, save it, Alexia. I think I heard you loud and clear.”

When you slammed the door shut, Alexia felt the sobs at the back of her throat but she swallowed them. To cry meant she regretted everything that led you to walk out.

Alexia did this to herself. She was the reason you left, Alexia didn’t deserve to cry. So Alexia stared out her window all night, wondering whether the reason her heart hurt so much was because the feeling she had for you was love all along and she was just too dumb to realize.

—

When Alexia didn’t get a single ‘I love you, beautiful’ in the middle of a meeting and when no one was there to kiss her goodnight and whispers of ‘I love you’, Alexia wondered how dumb she was to let everything slip from her fingers.

—

Maria came by her house a few days after you left, saying that you had asked her to pack your stuff up. Alexia couldn’t do anything else but let her in and watched as your things that were scattered around her house were shoved into boxes.

Alexia didn't say anything, she couldn’t ask Maria where you were staying now or if you were okay. Alexia figured she didn't deserve an answer.

“Is this y/n’s?” Maria was holding a stuffed teddy bear, one of its eyes missing and an embroidery of your initials seen on its left chest.

“No,” Alexia lied, taking the teddy and sending your best friend a small smile hoping that she was convincing enough. “It's mine. I know I’m too old to own one of these… it has… sentimental values.”

Maria nodded and Alexia had a feeling that Maria knew she was lying, that she knew exactly that it was your favourite teddy bear and that Alexia lied because she wanted to keep a part of you to herself.

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Maria lifted the last of the boxes and gave Alexia an awkward smile.

Alexia nodded and gestured towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once the back of Maria’s car was filled with your things, it dawned on Alexia that you were really gone.

You weren't talking to her anymore and there weren't any of your things left in Alexia’s house. There was no more reason for you to come back and Alexia had to force a smile on her face, not wanting to cry, especially not in front of Maria.

“Actually, uhm,” Maria cleared her throat. “y/n has something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maria gave an awkward laugh before reaching into her car and pulling out an envelope. “She told me to give you this.”

Alexia took the envelope with shaky hands, once again forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

Maria was looking at her with so much pity in her eyes and a part of Alexia was angry at her, because just like Maria, she pitied herself too. How could she ruin such a good relationship? She felt pathetic and she understood why Maria was looking at her that way.

“Alexia, look,” Maria stepped forward and placed a hand on the captain’s arm. “I honestly think you two will get through this.”

Alexia gave a bitter laugh at that. Was Maria mocking her now? “She packed all of her things. Well, you did, but it doesn’t matter. What part of all of this still makes you think that she’ll come back? Because I don’t think she will. I screwed up. She is not coming back. It’s fine, I’ll live.” Alexia hated how despite trying to act unaffected, anyone could hear the shakiness in her voice.

Maria squeezed her arm lightly. “She loves you. And right now she doesn’t think that you love her back, which I know isn’t the case.”

“How? You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Alexia felt her defensiveness kick in. “What if she’s right and I don’t love her, not even a little bit?”

Maria shook her head and gave a soft smile. “You seem to forget that I’ve been in your place before. I know what it looks like to love y/n—to be in love with her. You can’t lie to me.”

Alexia crossed her arms. She didn’t know why she was getting annoyed at where the conversation was going. “Then why don’t you go be with her?”

Maria laughed at that. “Because she loves you, not me, silly. Plus, I’m in love with your sister.”

Alexia didn’t say anything in reply and Maria took that as a cue to leave. Before getting in her car, she looked at Alexia one last time. “Contrary to what you think, you haven’t really lost her—not for good anyway.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Alexia replied, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

“I know that if you show up in front of her right now and tell her how you really feel, she’ll take you back in a heartbeat. She loves you.”

“Then why did she ask you to pack her things?” Alexia challenged back. “If she still loves me like you claimed, wouldn’t she be fine with seeing my face and not having to avoid me? And she wouldn’t just- just leave.”

“Ale, you two broke up over something so stupid. I can’t for the love of me figure out why- how something so simple can—” Maria palmed her forehead, letting out a sigh. “Just tell her you love her. What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I don’t know if I do!” Alexia shouted frustratedly. “Okay?”

Maria softened at that and gave Alexia a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling that you already know the answer,” she shrugged. “Think it through. Don’t take too long.”

And with that Maria left, leaving Alexia standing with your envelope in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. Alexia expected a long letter—maybe of you ranting about how much you hated her for breaking your heart, or pages filled with curses and how you never wanted to see her again. But all she got was a small piece of paper with one sentence and a bracelet that Alexia gave you on your one month anniversary.

it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do, don't beat yourself up

-y/n

—

When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Alexia still hadn’t heard from you, Alexia realized she finally lost you for good. Alexia realized that maybe she should’ve taken Maria’s advice, but she had put it off so much that now it had been months and who was to say that you hadn’t already found someone new? Someone who actually loved you.

The thought caused Alexia to finally bawl her eyes out, exactly three months after you left. Alexia let herself feel all the pain and hurt, savoring every little twinge in her heart because she deserved it all. She hurt you, she didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

Alba pulled her out of bed, telling her to get her shit together and usually Alexia was never the one to dwell on things—once you fall, you get back up.

But this time it was different. Alexia felt that this was it. How could she recover from all this hurt when all she wanted was your smile back? Alexia thought that if she was given a choice, she would rather lose the Ballon d’Or than to lose you—that was how important you were to her. Alexia knew she was dumb to not realize it sooner.

Despite Alexia’s complete despair about the whole thing, Alba was adamant that Alexia could do something about it. Alba was the one who told her to woman up and chase after her girl and “Seriously, hermana? I know I said you’re terrible at romance but don’t let that define you?! Do something!”

One night, Alexia discovered a pub not far from her place. No one was there except for her and one bartender. It was nice, Alexia could drink as much as she wanted without any judgment from anyone, and most importantly, she could think.

Alexia had a list and it went something like this:

Do I love y/n?

Can I get y/n back

Do I even deserve y/n back

Am I in love with y/n

Does y/n still love me

How can y/n be so perfect

Do. I. Love. Her

Alexia was brooding and drowning in her sorrows, everything seemed so wrong. It all seemed so difficult and it took hours of being alone, surrounded by alcohol, for Alexia to finally realize that it was actually simple.

Well, the drink definitely helped, but a song was playing on the speakers and Alexia would think that it was odd for a Taylor Swift song to be playing there if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only customer that night and the bartender probably just didn’t care about his song choices.

“Let me get this straight,” Alba said slowly, sipping on her coffee. It was the morning after and a Saturday, Alba was always at Alexia’s at 7 a.m. “You had an epiphany… because of a song you heard?”

“Yes,” Alexia nodded. “It’s actually very simple.”

“Very simple…?”

“This whole thing. I’m in love with y/n.” Alba choked on her coffee and Alexia patted her back. “A shocker,” Alexia grimaced at Alba’s coughs. “I know.”

“What kind of song led you to this conclusion?”

“Taylor Swift.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?” Alexia shrugged. “Kissing on sidewalks, light-hearted jokes, coffees at midnight… they’re all simple things but it’s who you’re with that makes it all so special. And I had all the things that the song mentioned with y/n, and they meant a lot to me—even though these things seem trivial, I cherish them a lot because I felt happy and- and in love. I get it now.”

Alba was stunned, Alexia could see with the way her eyes were widened and mouth agape.

“So this is definitely months overdue. Maybe I should’ve looked for y/n right after Maria took her things away, but it is what it is. I want to make things right. Help me, please.”

“Finally,” Alba sighed, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I know where she lives now. Will you promise me not to break her heart anymore, because she's my girlfriend’s best friend and I really can’t have you breaking her heart again.”

Alexia grinned as Alba told her your address.

—

To get you back, Alexia had a plan (courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift):

Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain

Say “It’s been a long three months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want”

Say “I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together”

Remind her how it used to be

—

“Hi.”

Your eyes immediately widened once you saw Alexia.

You stared at the girl in front of you for a good minute. Alexia had to hug herself tighter, her teeth chattering from the cold. “Are you going to let me in? Besides it being so cold, I don’t want your neighbour to see me in these.” Alexia gestured towards the baby pink sweatshirt with tiny puppies she was wearing.

“You’re—”

“Insane?” Alexia grinned. Exactly like what the Taylor Swift song said. This was going as planned.

“No- well that too,” you said, looking at Alexia in disbelief. “What I meant to say is that you’re drenched.”

��Yes,” Alexia agreed. “It is raining.”

“Exactly! Why are you out in the rain?”

“Because- because I’m supposed to stand here like a ghost, shaking from the rain.” Alexia had a smile on her lips, hoping that you would smile back at her because that would mean that you didn’t hate her.

So when you laughed in disbelief and shook your head, ushering her inside, Alexia breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, my bad,” you opened your fridge, taking something out. “What I meant to offer is milk,” you placed the tiny sized milk carton on the kitchen counter and sat across Alexia. “I still can’t believe you drink this.“

“You don’t drink milk,” Alexia stated.

You shrugged, your cheeks showing a hint of pink. “This has been a permanent thing on my grocery list. It’s second nature. I guess.”

Alexia stayed silent. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting this. Maybe she was expecting you to hate her. For you to slam the door in her face and never talk to her again.

With how your last interaction turned out, Alexia was expecting you to be more angry, or to be anything other than to welcome Alexia into your new apartment and provide her with her favourite drink that you still bought even though you two broke up months ago.

It wasn’t making any sense to her.

“How are you so civil towards me?” Alexia blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t slam the door in my face.”

You looked confused. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“No!” Alexia quickly said. “I mean- it’s nice that you didn’t slam the door in my face. I think I would’ve, if I were you.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think I’m the type to slam the door in my ex’s face.”

Alexia laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you grinned. A warm feeling settled in Alexia’s chest because she really missed that smile.

The silence that followed was nice. Alexia’s eyes darted around your apartment as she sipped on her strawberry milk. You poured yourself a cup of tea and it was still funny how your choice of drink was more mature than Alexia’s despite being five years younger than her.

“So what brings you here?” you broke the silence.

“Oh,” Alexia rubbed the back of her neck. “Why I came here…” Alexia trailed off.

“Why you came here…” you copied.

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. She had a whole speech planned out, but now you were staring at her and Alexia was surprised that your eyes that used to look at Alexia with so much love were still looking at her the exact same way.

That, and combined with the fact that Alexia couldn’t spot a single trace of anger in your face despite what Alexia did, made her burst into tears.

Here was the thing: Alexia disliked crying. That was obvious with the way Alexia cried for you months after you left and not the days that followed. Alexia was convinced that crying was a sign of weakness, so whenever she felt hot tears at the back of her eyes, she would always squeeze her eyes shut and push them away.

It was surprising to her that she was openly letting her tears fall in the middle of her ex’s kitchen, her chest shaking as her cries became harder.

Alexia felt you next to her and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled into your arms. She could hear the pounding of your heart and she could feel your gentle kisses on the top of her head. It felt good and it made Alexia realize that letting her emotions show wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really sorry for being so oblivious about things,” Alexia croaked out. “Sorry for hurting you. I never meant to.”

“Alexia—”

“Let me finish,” Alexia interrupted, turning in her chair to face you. She looked up into your warm eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Just like what she practiced. “Uhm- it’s been a long three months. I was too afraid to tell you what I want—”

“You are not quoting Taylor Swift,” you were holding in your laughter. “Are you?”

“y/n,” Alexia groaned. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? But Taylor Swift said—”

You laughed so hard and Alexia felt the warmness back in her chest. “Sorry it’s just,” you sighed fondly. “You hate Taylor Swift, Ale.”

“I don’t! I just don’t know her well enough to like her,” Alexia corrected. “There’s a difference.”

“Mhmm, sure.”

“I listened to a couple of her songs and they weren’t that bad. Plus, the lyrics really resonated with me.”

“So all this speech is just you telling me you like Taylor Swift now?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, ignoring your remark. “No. There was one song about being in love, and it was so-” Alexia’s voice grew smaller, her cheeks reddening before she could finish her sentence. “It describes how I feel about you. It helped me… understand my feelings.”

You had an amused look on your face, almost smug. Alexia’s face kept on flushing under your gaze. “Hm. How so?”

“Oh you know,” Alexia started fidgeting with her hands on top of the kitchen counter, looking everywhere but you. “Just… That I understand why they lost their minds and fought the wars.”

You were quiet before you burst out laughing. Alexia had an offended look on her face yet she was smiling nonetheless. “Excuse me,” Alexia chastised. “I’m trying to confess something here.”

You immediately pursed your lips but not a second later the laughters were back. “Sorry,” you said once your laughter died down. “You’ve been quoting Taylor Swift the entire night. Who are you, Alexia Putellas?”

“Can you not?” Alexia pouted. “I’m not good at this, you know that.”

Alexia could feel your hands cupping her cheeks, causing them to burn under your touch. All this felt awfully familiar and Alexia had to remind herself that you were broken up.

Taking a deep breath while still having you so near, Alexia continued. “I can’t remember what to say next. Maybe because you’re too close,” Alexia bluntly said. When a hint of hurt and confusion flashed across your face, Alexia was quick to clarify. “You’re making me nervous, y/n. It’s- I’m just so nervous. You know I always get nervous around you. Can you please stand at least five feet away?”

You shook her head in amusement and moved away, sitting on your previous spot across from Alexia. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alexia smiled sheepishly. “I think what’s ridiculous is how we’re broken up yet it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you had your eyes casted downwards, a wistful smile on your lips. ‘Remind her how it used to be’, checked.

“I’m sorry I screwed things up. You know how dumb I can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you scrunched up her nose. “You can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“But I still love you nonetheless.” And there it was again, the challenge in your tone. Alexia was transported back to that night three months ago when you left.

“Okay…” Alexia dragged on. “I know what you’re expecting and honestly I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it but—” Alexia took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience with love and believe it or not, I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t find it important. What was important to me was football and being the best in the world, making sure my legacy lives on and how my dad would be proud of me, wherever he is. So if you’d ask me what love was a year ago, my paper would turn out blank, because I just don’t care. Alba kept on making jokes about how I’m going to end up alone and—” Alexia laughed. “Frankly, it wasn’t even a joke because I was pretty sure it would come true. But then I met you, and I was so determined to prove Alba wrong because I can care about someone other than football, but then you left, and I was back to the sinking feeling that maybe I’m just not meant for anyone. And before you say anything, y/n, I know I can overthink sometimes—or maybe a lot. But uhm- you being gone, it forced me to think and I realized that it’s actually a lot simpler than what I imagined.”

“Alexia, breathe,” you interrupted, a fond look on your face.

Alexia took a deep breath, she didn’t realize how much she was rambling. “Sorry,” Alexia smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “What I meant to say is—“

You caught Alexia’s hands that were waving around crazily in front of her. “I think,” you laughed, you intertwined your fingers and Alexia had to take another deep breath because she forgot what a sight it was to see your hands locked. “I really think you should breathe first.”

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so all over the place with you. I can win championships, but with you… I had to practice my speech in front of a stupid mirror, because I know this will happen. This, as in me throwing up words- God, I’m such a mess.”

“You practiced in front of a mirror?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Alexia’s cheeks grew red. “Of course I did…”

You let go of Alexia’s hands and leaned back. “Well then, go on.”

“Huh?” Alexia squeaked.

“Yes, your speech. We wouldn’t want your practice to go to waste now, do we?” you were smiling and Alexia really wanted to kiss that smile away.

“Fine. Yes. My speech.” Alexia took a deep breath. “y/n. Love is… Love is mornings with you and how your smile is the first thing I see when I wake up. Love is the sound of your laughter echoing throughout the supermarket aisle when I did a stupid dance after getting the last box of mac and cheese. Love is the nights spent together, feeling the rise and fall of your chest and how you talk in your sleep. Love is the silence on the way home, when we’re both too tired to talk, but it’s nice and I don’t mind it. Love is the way your hands instantly find mine every single time. And I know that love isn’t perfect because love is me breaking your heart and unknowingly breaking mine too. Love is scary because love is lowering your guards down and putting your heart on a damn silver platter and giving your person the chance to ruin you. But I’d let you, y/n. I’d give you a million chances to ruin me because I love you.”

Your stare was intense and Alexia had to look away. “Te amo. I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I know it has been months and a lot has changed… but I’m here, if you want me. I am all yours. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the first night, I think.”

Alexia forced herself to look back at you, her eyes locking with her favourite pair of orbs. “I want you for worse or for better, mi amor, and I would wait forever for you. I know I broke your heart, but I promise I'll put it back together.”

You had a smile on your lips and your eyebrow raised after Alexia’s last sentence and Alexia wanted to celebrate internally because maybe Taylor Swift was a genius after all.

But when you didn’t say anything else, Alexia’s smile dropped and she had to accept that you could very well reject her. It had been months. A lot could happen in three months.

Alexia could feel the start of pain in her chest but then you laughed and Alexia’s eyes widened because why would you be laughing if you were going to reject her?

“You love me,” you stated.

Alexia was still staring at you. “I do…”

You went closer to her until your hands were back cupping Alexia’s face and that was when Alexia realized that you weren't rejecting her. Holy shit.

“You dummy,” your tone was light but Alexia turned serious.

“I know,” Alexia sucked in a deep breath. “I was a terrible girlfriend, amor. I don’t know how you loved me when all I did was mess up, but I promise that I’ll be better if you—”

“We all mess up,” you interjected. “We’re not perfect, baby. And you’re gonna mess up again in the future and I will too, but we’ll get through it together.”

Alexia was silent, taking in your words. “So uhm,” Alexia had to contain herself from grinning from ear-to-ear. “You still want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed her. Alexia let herself grin into the kiss and she swore that she would do whatever it takes to never lose you again.

—

Ale: I got the girl *insert smiling face with sunglasses emoji*

Albs: what

Albs: just use the emoji wtf weirdo

Ale: Thank you, Taylor Swift

Albs: you’re seriously so weird

Albs: how are we related?

Albs: but anyway congratulations

Albs: you won’t end up as a cat lady after all :D

Ale: Fuck off, Alba. You know I’m allergic to cats

—

** INTERVIEW NOTES:

ALEXIA PUTELLAS

SHE SMELLS NICE Y/N !!! FOCUS

VERY SERIOUS, ONLY LAUGHED ONCE

JUST TOLD HER TO SMILE MORE BECAUSE SHE HAS A PRETTY SMILE WILL SHE KICK ME OUT

SHE LIKES TACOS ??? IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT

SMART, INTELLIGENT, VERY ELOQUENT WITH WORDS !!! JUST TAKE MY HEART ALREADY ALEXIA PUTELLAS

HER EYES CRINKLE WHEN SHE LAUGHS OMFG ADORABLE

I THINK I’M IN LOVE

SHE JUST ASKED ME WHAT I’M WRITING DOWN

BYE

—

a/n: this was a looong one hope you enjoyed it, loves !!! please let me know your thoughts :) :) :)

#this was absolutely amazing #the love speech was beautiful #you can count on taylor swift to save the day 😂#brilliant writing #fic recs #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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chaisreading · 2 months

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I wonder who it could be 👀🤔

Everything is Fanfiction: Episode 3

This map somehow leads to Wanda Maximoff. Find out how on next week's episode with a very special guest! July 17th at 2pm ct!

#everything is fanfiction pod

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chaisreading · 3 months

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Tune into episode 2 if you have a chance! You might even hear some Aussie in there 😉

Everything is Fanfiction Episode 2!!

For those that missed it! Episode 2 with my bestie @chaisreading is up!!!

#everything is fanfiction pod

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chaisreading · 3 months

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FIRST EPISODE IS OUT!!

I'm very nervous to announce and share that the first episode of the Everything Is Fanfiction is finally up! Hope y'all enjoy and stay tuned for more episodes. Currently only have three recorded and one available! https://youtu.be/LpUbra0uKrs

#check it out y'all #this is going to be awesome #everything is fanfiction pod

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chaisreading · 4 months

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A Girl Consumed by Fire

summary: or the five times alexia kisses you in private and the one time she doesn’t care who sees anymore

warnings: a little suggestive at points but you’ll live, injury

a/n: yeah i know this trope has been rinsed to death. but do i care? absolutely bloody not

word count: 3.3k

Things between you and Alexia had always been, charged, so to speak.

Even on your first day you felt it. There was a static in the air when you were greeted at the gates. The corridors of Joan Gamper buzzed with, something.

You chalked it down to excitement. Why wouldn’t you? Your first day at a shiny new club with the prospect of winning lots of shiny trophies with the best players in the world. To not be excited would be offensive.

But it was when you saw her up close and personal for the first time that you understood what was going on. All she did was walk out of a meeting room, but the world seemed to pause in its tracks just for her. Her presence was suffocating in the best way, her stare intense as her eyes met yours briefly before she smiled and continued down the hall.

And that was that. Love at first sight you ask? Of course not..!

The band snaps 26 days into your contract.

You’re both sweaty and tired and alone.

Like after all sessions, the changing room is filled with the lingering scent of hard work and the faint hum of the overhead lights. You’re bent over, hands on your knees, catching your breath as the other players filter out, chattering about their plans for the evening, you think. You haven’t quite grasped the language yet.

Alexia on the other hand had stayed behind to work on a few extra drills, just like you had.

Perhaps it was subconscious on your part, staying later than you needed to. But the only plans you tended to have after work included either going home or walking off the lust that had bubbled through your chest whenever she kicked a ball.

You now know the footprint of Barcelona extremely well.

“Good work today,” she says, her voice low and a little husky from running around for three hours.

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, flashing her a tired smile as you straighten up and peel off your shirt, revealing your sports bra underneath. The cool air feels refreshing against your damp skin.

Spain is so fucking hot.

Then, like a game of chess, she makes her move.

She takes a step closer to you. A timid one at first as she scans the room to make sure the two of you are truly alone. There’s a tension in the air, a palpable electricity that seems to crackle between you as she locks her eyes with yours.

You’re not sure who moves next, but suddenly she’s right in front of you, standing tall and strong and oh so pretty above you. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against your arm, sending a lightning bolt of electricity dancing across your skin. Her touch is soft, almost hesitant, but there’s a boldness behind it that almost makes your knees buckle.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Alexia leans in, her breath warm and quick against your skin. Then, she closes the gap, capturing your mouth in a quick, feather light kiss. It’s sudden and unexpected, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to react. Her lips are soft, tasting faintly of salt and the raspberry electrolyte drink she chungs between sets.

She pulls back just as quickly, her green eyes wide, searching yours for a reaction. There’s a mischievous smile tugging at her features, a rosiness in her cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Eso es lo que pasa cuando te desnudas delante de mí,” she says, and you think she’s teasing you by the playful lilt on her voice. Or it’s just her beautiful Spanish accent. You really can’t tell.

For a moment, you’re speechless, your heart practically pounding out of your chest. The changing room feels both too small and impossibly vast at the same time, the air thick with the beginning of something you're too scared to think about in fear of it shattering in your hands.

You finally manage to find your voice, though the words come out sticky.“I-, I have no idea what you just said”

Alexia chuckles softly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. She steps back, giving you one last lingering look before she turns to head for the showers. “See you tomorrow,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice echoing slightly in the empty room.

You’re left standing there, your mind in the clouds, replaying the moment over and over again. The kiss was cursory, but it’s burned into your memory. You touch your lips, still feeling the warmth of hers, and a smile creeps onto your face.

Phone, jacket, headphones, backpack.

All present and-, wait. Where’s your backpack?

“Where the fuck has that gone then?” You mutter to yourself as you check under your seat. The seat in front. Your overhead. And under your seat again to make sure you’ve not gone crazy.

As you suspected, you hadn’t. It isn’t there. This is really not the time.

“Todo bien?” Comes a very familiar, very sudden voice from the front of the bus however long later.

It startles you, enough that you end up banging your head on the underside of a table.

“Hi, Ale” you say between wincing and rubbing the bruise forming on the back of your skull, “everything’s fine”

“You are on the bus, no?”

You sigh, shaking your head as you peer out from your crouching position. “I can’t find my bag. I must’ve shoved it under the seat, but it’s not here”

She abandons her own bag before striding your way and drops down beside you. “I help you to look” she says with a smile so warm it could melt the ice caps in an afternoon.

The bus is quiet now with the two of you silent and occupied with the task at hand. Though it’s a type of quiet you’re comfortable with. One that doesn’t need to be filled with small talk or waffle or the awkward cleaning of throats.

You’re about to give up until finally Alexia spots your bag wedged between a seat and the wall.

“Lo encontré,” she says, pulling it out and holding it straight out in front of her. Frowning as she notices how covered in dust it now is.

You briefly wonder if she will be having words with the bus maintenance staff.

Regardless, relief floods through you as you take the bag from her. “I’m going to kill those fucking kids”. She looks at you with her eyebrows raised and that smirk she saves for when she pretends she's not listening to you and Mapi arguing. “I mean, thank you Ale”

“No te estreses. Tus espinilleras de la suerte están a salvo”

“I know I know. I’m trying” you reply, bashful that she knows about your scabby old kit and your weird little traditions.

She grabs your chin then, her large hand lifting your head so you can look at her. “Esfuérzate más” she commands before she ducks her head and attaches her lips to yours.

It’s quicker than before, if at all possible. But the intent behind it so much different. Like a balm healing your wounds rather than a stoker provoking a flame.

“¿Mejor?” She asks when she fully retreats.

“Better” you repeat because you are. You so are.

You feel like you’re having an affair. It has the factors of one, at least.

Whispered calls when at your respective international camps, stolen glances during meetings, and now, these secretive moments together. It’s early in the morning at the gym, the sun just beginning to rise, its soft glow painting itself over the equipment.

You’re both here early to avoid the rush, but also to steal a few moments alone. The air is filled with the faint buzz of the HVAC system, the occasional clink of weights, and your own rapid heartbeat. Alexia finishes her set and looks over at you, her eyes filled with an unspoken yet very obvious question.

You nod subtly, understanding her without words. She approaches you, and without preamble, takes your hand and leads you to a secluded corner of the gym, hidden from view by the array of machines and weights.

She turns to you, her eyes scanning your face, searching for any hesitation. Finding none, she steps closer, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s urgent and full of quashed emotion. Rife with the risk and thrill of being caught.

“He estado pensando en ti toda la noche,” she admits between kisses, and you whimper into her mouth.

You had your first official date the evening before. A dimly lit Asian restaurant in a quiet corner of the city. Lingering touches under the table. Her nose running against the angles of your jaw as she holds back her urges on the pavement outside.

You had been thinking about her all night too.

Her hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your arms wrapping around her shoulders. The gym’s early morning quiet makes the moment feel even more intimate, as if the world outside has ceased to exist.

“I can’t get enough of you,” you breathe out, breaking the kiss for a moment to look into her eyes. They’re almost black, hungry, impatient to get what she wants. And you’re happy to give it to her.

“Pues no lo hagas” she replies, her voice raw and filled with desire. She kisses you again, deeper this time, her hands roaming over the expanse of your back. Sweat be damned as her fingers breach the hem of your top to trace over tacky skin.

You groan into her mouth, feeling her touch ignite a raging fire inside you. Her hands slide up, pulling you even closer, the kiss growing more desperate. Her breath is hot against your skin as her lips move down your jaw, then your neck.

“Alexia,” you gasp, your hands gripping her tighter, nails leaving crescent moons in her skin as they dig into her shoulders. She looks up at you from under her lashes, her eyes filled with the same aching need you feel.

But just as you’re about to give yourselves to each other completely, a noise from the entrance makes you both jump. You pull apart, breathless and wide-eyed, turning to see one of the training staff walking in, clearly shocked to find people in here so early.

“Uh, no esperaba a nadie aquí todavía”, he stammers, looking between the two of you suspiciously.

“Sólo estábamos... entrenando un poco más...,” Alexia says quickly, shakily, as she tries to regain some semblance of composure.

“Right,” you add, trying to steady your own breathing and smooth the creases Alexia has created on your clothes. “Early bird and all that”

Rafael nods slowly, still looking very slightly puzzled. Your English idioms flying straight over his head. “Bueno, entonces iré a prepararme. Disculpadme”

As he walks away, you and Alexia share a look, adrenaline still thrumming painfully through you. You’re transported back to your teenage years, hiding things from your parents. Giggling about all things relationships with your friends at the dinner table at lunch.

“¿Más tarde?,” she asks, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt.

“Definitely,” you reply, giving her a kiss on her lust bitten cheek before you both return to your routines. Always making sure there was blonde hair in your periphery.

The trip had been a welcome break from the relentless pace of the season. The team had earned a couple days respite, and the serene coastal town of Cadaqués provided the perfect escape. Now, you find yourself on the balcony of the hotel room, the ocean waves crashing softly in the distance. The evening air is cool, carrying the salty scent of the sea.

You’re both sitting side by side, the balcony’s small table cluttered with the remains of your dinner. Alexia’s hand is resting on the armrest of your chair, her fingers just grazing yours.

“I can’t believe how peaceful it is here,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Leaning your head back to bask in the remainder of the sun.

Alexia turns to you, a soft smile on her lips. A smile saved just for you, you’ve learnt. Well you and her precious trophies, but that’s by the by. “Sí, lo sé. Es bueno... respirar”

You nod in agreement, your eyes drifting out to the horizon where the sky is painted in hues of pink and orange. Mesmerised by the boats rocking on the water. You wonder if Ale would ever be up to sailing one herself.

The conversation flows easily enough, touching on everything from the match preparations to the local cuisine. It’s comfortable, natural, the kind of exchange that happens between two people who know each other well.

“Voy a tomar una copa,” Alexia says after a while, standing up and stretching. “¿Quieres algo?”

“Surprise me,” you reply.

As she heads inside, she pauses to lean down and press a quick, tender kiss to your waiting lips. It’s effortless, an instinctive expression of affection that has become part of your routine. Woven into the fabric of your relationship, never to be unpicked.

“Volveré,” she says with a smile before disappearing into the room.

You sit back, a content smile on your face, listening to the sounds of the evening. It’s moments like these, simple and unforced, that make everything feel as though this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Alexia returns a few minutes later with a can of coke for you and a water for herself. She hands you the can and sits back down, her shoulder brushing against yours.

Cotidie morimur, we die every day. It’s dramatic but today it has shown to be true.

Alexia scoffed when you recited it to her, but you have a right to be frustrated. And frustrated you’ll be for however long your body takes to heal.

You’re sidelined for weeks, maybe longer, and the reality of it all hits you hard. The doctors have diagnosed it as a torn Semimembranosus. Otherwise known as a really fucking bad hamstring strain. And the limitations on your movement are a constant reminder that you can no longer do for what you are paid.

Alexia has been by your side through it all, a constant steadfast presence of comfort and support. Now, she’s helping you in the bathroom, her bathroom, her movements careful and tender as she assists you into the shower. The water is warm, cascading over your skin, but it does little to soothe the ache in your heart.

“Let me help,” Alexia says softly, her voice breaking the silence. She speaks in English because she knows you’re far too overwhelmed to translate what she is saying. She is too good for you.

You nod, too exhausted, too emotional to speak. She takes the soap and gently lathers it over your shoulders, her movements light and careful around your sore muscles. You can’t hold back the tears anymore, and they join forces with the water running down your face.

“I know it is hard,” she murmurs, her voice thick with easy empathy as she washes your back. “But you will get through this. We will get through this”

You sniffle, trying to keep the sobs at bay, but you fail miserably. Your throat closes the more you try to push the tears back to where they came from. “I feel so useless”

She turns you gently to face her, her eyes searching yours through the water droplets clinging to her own lashes. “You are not useless. You are strong. This… this is just a moment. It will pass”

The sincerity in her eyes is your undoing. The tears come harder now, and Alexia pulls you into a careful embrace, mindful of your half broken body. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, her lips warm and reassuring as you stand there trembling in her arms.

“Estoy aquí,” she whispers against your skin. “I am here”

Her words are an outstretched hand, grounding you as you let the emotions run their course. She continues to help you wash, her touch gentle and comforting as she cleanses you. When the sobs finally subside, she leans in and kisses you softly, her lips tender against yours.

She is apologising through her actions as though she is to blame.

You cling to her, the kiss a salve to your wounded spirit. It’s a promise, a reminder that you’re not alone in this. As the water continues to fall around you, Alexia stands tall, strong, steady. Making up for the slouch in your shoulders and the bump in your road.

“Thank you,” you whisper into her collarbones when the kiss ends, your voice unstable as if it does not trust itself to do its job.

She smiles, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “Always, mi amor. We will get through this together”

D Day.

Your first game back after the injury. You feel like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

The atmosphere in the stadium is electric as always, and you can feel the energy of the crowd pulsing through you as you step out of the tunnel. Every cheer, every chant feels like a victory in itself.

The game has already been secured, your team leading with a comfortable three goal cushion coming up to the final ten minutes of the game.

The subs board goes up when the ball goes out of play. Aitana’s number for yours. Your cue. Your heart leaps out of your chest when you step up to the touchline.

As discussed the weeks leading up to this moment, Jona thought it best to ease you back in, giving you the last few minutes to get a feel for the field again. It’s a calculated move, a chance for you to shake off the rust without any pressure.

And you didn't. You had fun. You felt fresh and new and ready to take on the world.

As the final whistle blows, signaling the end of the match, a wave of relief and triumph washes over you.

You’ve made it. You’re back.

The cheers of the fans fill the air, but nothing compares to the sight of Alexia running towards you, her face flushed and sweaty and happy. She reaches you, and before you can say anything, she pulls you into a tight hold.

“Estoy tan orgullosa de ti,” she whispers fiercely, her voice so full of pride it makes tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Happy tears this time though. You don’t think you’ve got any sad ones left.

“Thank you,” you manage to reply, the words barely escaping your lips before her mouth is on yours.

The kiss is spontaneous, a crude outpouring of emotion that catches you off guard. It’s fierce, passionate, and utterly uninhibited. For a moment, the world around you fades away. There’s only Alexia, her lips on yours, her hands gripping at your shirt like she never wants to let you go.

Somewhere in the distance you hear the flurry of chears and gasps from the crowd, but neither of you pay it any mind. This moment is yours, a testament to everything you’ve endured and overcome together. When you finally pull back, her eyes are shining with her own unshed tears.

“Te quiero,” she says, her voice steady despite the tumultuous fire coursing through her. The shake of her hands. How she tiredly leans into you. You are Icarus and she is the sun.

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Your pain finally thawed.

Your teammates swarm around you both, their hails and congratulations mirroring those coming from the sea of Blaugrana in the stands. Mapi claps you on the back, grinning like a cat who has just got the cream. “¡Vaya beso! Now that’s how you make a comeback”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep inside you, unable to be contained. The team forms a circle around you, and for a moment, you stand at the center of it all with Alexia by your side, feeling more loved and supported than you ever have before.

#this was so so good #you could feel the emotions #absolutely love it #fic recs #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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chaisreading · 4 months

Text

5 times you slept in places you shouldn’t have + the 1 time Wanda dragged you with her

Wanda Maximoff x Spider!reader

Summary: You’ve always had trouble sleeping, and Wanda’s always been there to see it.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor readers not doing so well in the sleep department.

Word count: 10.7k (I am so sorry)

A/n: I’ve always wanted to try this troupe I’m very excited with how this turned out. Took me literal months (started in march) anyways!! Reblogs or no more Wanda 🫵 /j happy reading!!

The couch

Sleeping had never been your thing, but you could sleep through it all when it was. You were never a heavy sleeper, in fact, a light sleeper. Just the slightest of noises were enough to have your body ringing and if you refused to comply your very friendly spider-sense would have no problem in senselessly jolting you awake till you’d arrive half stumbling into a nearby crime scene.

Your spider senses only worsened to the point where sleeping was becoming harder to do and at some point you stopped trying altogether. Night after night you’d stare aimlessly at the ceiling above you, just, waiting for the prickling sensation to eat at your flesh until you couldn’t handle the needles seeping through your skin. The lack of sleep and the cruel anticipation were eating at you, and you were starting to grow desperate.

Over dinner you complained about it to Steve one Friday night when all the Avengers took time off for some one-on-one time (despite not being an official member you graciously accepted the invitation), he noticed your sluggish behavior and recommended you avoid living near the danger until you could learn to control your powers better. His reasoning being; “If you’re not near a crime scene, your senses won’t have anything to wake you for, that way you’ll receive the proper rest you require”.

The strangest part out of all of it was; his advice worked. At the compound, you slept like a baby, in your apartment in New York? Not so much. You were very appreciative of the man, and he was even kind enough to offer you a room which you accepted immediately.

One person who had been initially excited about your move-in was Wanda. You were lucky enough to consider Wanda one of your closest friends aside from Peter. She was absolutely brilliant and you both got along well. Similar to an unfinished puzzle piece she was the last puzzle you didn’t even know you were missing. She needed company, and you were glad to provide it.

You didn’t visit often, but with this newfound arrangement, you would be. Wanda didn’t know if the idea of spending more time with you or potentially sleeping one room away from you excited her more. Either way, the thought of you being a door down had her cheeks flushing and Natasha’s lips curling into a knowing smirk.

So yes, Wanda was excited about your temporary stay.

That was until she realized how annoying of a sleeper you could be. No, you didn’t snore, nor drool in your sleep.

Your problem wasn’t any of those. And honestly, Wanda wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for a late-night last-minute grocery run. Earlier that morning she had promised the team she’d cook her famous paprikash for tomorrow and had miscalculated exactly how many ingredients were in stock.

As Wanda stepped out of the elevator, she shifted her weight to better handle the bags, struggling only slightly before releasing them onto the counter with a sigh of relief. With a flick of her wrist, the lights turned on, and to her surprise; you were there too. Not in the kitchen but sprawled out on the couch where soft snores were leaving your lips.

‘Huh’

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, chuckling to herself. You looked like a starfish and your attire was… well, certainly something. You were completely knocked out beneath your Spider-Man suit and–– were those sweatpants? She guessed you must have been swinging through the city on patrol again. As for how sweatpants ended up on you, a mystery.

You still had your mask on, and before Wanda could give it much thought she was already walking in your direction, step by step, until she was kneeling beside the couch. Carefully, her fingers reached out, slowly lifting the edges of your mask. Just as she was about to peel it out, you stirred beneath her touch, causing her to still.

“Wanda?” You whispered hoarsely, elbows lifting to get a better look at your surroundings but Wanda was quick to push you back down.

“Relax, you fell asleep in your suit again.” Wanda shushed you, and you hummed, not really fighting it, settling back into the couch to give her more control. She gently pried off the rest of the mask before placing it on the coffee table.

Leaning down she ran her hand towards your hair, pushing away strands from your eye and you grumbled sleepily.

The witch chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before straightening herself up again. “There, you can sleep now.”

“You’re the best.” You mumbled as she walked away, taking a deep breath, and burying your face back into the cushions.

From the kitchen Wanda smiled fondly, a blush tinting her cheeks as she unpacked the groceries; moving quietly to not wake you. You’re all she thinks about as she organizes things, glancing in your direction every so often.

And you find yourself doing the same, seeing her in your dreams, and sleeping with an even bigger smile than before.

—

2. Tony’s desk

The compound is surprisingly quiet the next day, considering Tony was paying a visit Wanda would’ve assumed exactly the opposite in his company. But there were no out-of-the-ordinary noises, just the occasional banging of his hammer and welding machine.

Overall it was pretty peaceful and the weather was just beautiful, a perfect blend of sunny but not insufferably so, a sight that would go well with some lunch. Naturally, you’re the first person that comes to mind that Wanda thinks to ask.

Yet, a problem arises when Wanda can’t seem to find you anywhere. You’re not in your usual spots, including the bean bag chair in the movie room, or the outside bench next to the pond.

Noticing Wanda’s dejected demeanor, Natasha has enough of it after all the aimless pacing. The assassin suggests that you might be downstairs in Tony’s lab, and Wanda’s eyes light up the next second. A brilliant suggestion indeed, after all, he was your mentor.

Unsurprisingly, Wanda finds you exactly where Nat said you’d be. Hunched over, asleep on one of Tony’s desks, snoring ever so softly. Next to you were your web shooters—or pieces of them.

The sight would’ve normally made Wanda smile if it weren’t for your uncomfortable position. Any more time spent like that and you’d surely be retired before 40 with chronic back pain. Previously, you had told Wanda not to worry about it, mumbling on about how you spiders could sleep anywhere.

Wanda didn’t believe it for one second, knowing you immediately had to pop a few pills to relieve the pain in your spine. As much as you were a superhero, you weren’t immortal, humanity never left you—something Wanda had to remind you of whenever you pushed yourself to a certain extent.

Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, Wanda removed the gears from underneath your arms, carefully placing them aside, mindful not to ruin the process you had sorted out.

Placing the items aside, you sigh on the table, stirring softly, but you remain blissfully unaware. A gentle smile curls on Wanda’s lips as she watches you, her soft palm coming to stroke your back.

That was enough to jolt you awake, snapping up with wide eyes, and grabbing the nearest screwdriver to threaten whoever was there. Your posture was contrary to intimidating, and Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, lifting her hands in mock surrender.

“Please have mercy.” She teased with a playful grin, using her finger to push back the ‘weapon’.

You blinked confusingly, glancing down at the item in your hand before chuckling. “Consider yourself lucky it wasn’t Thor’s hammer I picked up.” You quipped, placing the tool down and stretching your arms above your head.

And Wanda sighed, watching you struggle to get that knot out. Standing up from her chair she came to your aid, massaging at your shoulders and back. You sighed in relief, leaning back into her touch as she worked her magic.

She really did have magical fingers.

“You really have to stop resting in places that’ll give you backaches.” Wanda chides, hands sliding underneath your shirt for better access, sending a shiver down both of you.

“If I stop then how will I get more of those delightful massages from you?” You murmured with closed eyes, completely drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s warm hands on you. “It’s what I love most about you.”

Wanda tensed, flattening her palms on your back, before continuing with trembling fingers to not raise suspicion. “Is that all?” She retorted, voice low.

You posed a thoughtful expression, letting out a hum as you leaned back. “Also for the delectable cooking, so, two reasons.” You teased, holding up two fingers. Wanda scoffed, slapping the back of your head and removing herself the same second. You giggled mischievously, trying to get her to come back.

Swiveling your chair around, you reached out for her and effectively trapped her between your legs, and Wanda rolled her eyes, ignoring how the position made her feel things.

“So I’m just a housewife to you then?” She prodded, tilting her head in a way she knew would have you stumbling.

You shook your head, gently uncrossing her arms and taking her hands between yours.

“You’re more than that to me Wanda…” Standing up you brushed the strands of hair away from her eyes, leaning in close enough to feel Wanda’s breath hitch and you smirked; whispering.

“You're my housekeeper.”

Approximately 0.5 seconds was what it took for Wanda to gasp and shove you back towards your desk, and you let out a hearty laugh.

“See if I ever cook for you again.”

Her voice means to come out stern but you completely ignore it, thinking how adorable she looks with arms crossed and an almost annoyed pout on her face. It’s your arms that wrap around her that make her break, bringing her into a hug and making her cheeks flush again.

“I’m simply teasing witchy, you know I love you, all of you.” The words slide out easily from your lips as you lean down to press a tender kiss to her head and Wanda looks surprised, but then you quickly redirect your attention to the basket with a cheesy grin and Wanda stumbled. “Now how about we go enjoy that picnic then?”

Your steps are quick as you grab the basket, ignoring her piercing gaze.

And with how unaffectedly you move, Wanda wonders if you could possibly love her differently in the first place.

—

3. In a tangle of webs + Peter

Some nights were harder than others for a mind reader. It wasn’t an uncommon fate for any Avenger either, everyone had their own issues and Wanda had just been so lucky to view all of them. If she had the choice she’d never choose to see them but if Wanda had learned something from all her years; nightmares were loud.

Loud enough to startle people from their subconscious, and loud enough to provoke detailed images of their clouded lives into replaying scenes in her mind. A horror Wanda didn’t yet have the strength to ignore.

It didn’t help that most nights, they had them.

Empty walls stared back at Wanda’s dimmed green eyes. Her hands firmly wrapped around her head—in a fashion of both comfort and control, trying to ease the pulsing, luring her into a state of ease just to slip into someone’s mind again. She wanted to stop the feeling and visions but couldn’t.

After twenty more minutes of hopeless starring, the memories grew weaker.

Still, her mind remained trapped in what she had managed to see. Deciding that sleep wasn’t going to help Wanda groggily stood forward, trudging down the stairs to grab a glass of water in the common room, maybe some chamomile tea.

Part of her heart sought company, and if given the courage she’d knock on your door and ask for it. But this time, for once the universe seemed to be on her side when her eyes landed on you.

—with Peter. Laying in a tangle of limbs, and webs. Not exactly the conscious company she was hoping for…

Despite your clustered position on the floor you both seemed at peace. You were both fast asleep and for just a second her heart clenched with envy before simmering into a soft sense of affection. How was it that you could be so cute without even trying?

Slow droplets poured from the facet and into her cup as she took in the sight, forgetting why she was even there in the first place. But then her eyes wandered over to the calendar, right, Friday.

She felt silly not noticing sooner. Had she really been so caught up in her head that she didn’t notice what day it was?

The unfinished Lego Razor Crest propped on the table should have given it away.

Fridays were ‘Fundays’.

Wanda thought it was stupid, which was probably why she wasn’t invited to the events. Not that she minded, considering all you ever did was build legos with Peter and occasionally talk about girls—and why would Wanda want to hear that purposely?

She knew she had no right to feel jealous, it wasn’t wrong for you to think about other girls. But did you have to be so damn obvious about it? Your mind was a fortress when it came to penetrating your thoughts, it so rarely happened, but when it did she caught glimpses of the girl who was (annoyingly) always on your mind.

The girl with green eyes.

Too focused on figuring out who that girl was again, Wanda lost track of how much water she really needed when the cup began to overfill.

“Shit.” Wanda hissed, turning off the tap before the water could spill further. “Gross…” she grumbled, scrunching her nose as she dabbled at the wet spot on her sweater.

That was enough water for the night.

Briefly, before she leaves, Wanda considers waking you up again. Maybe coax you into a proper bed this time around, but before she can make up her mind Peter’s bursting awake, looking panicked. His widened eyes meet Wanda’s equally alarmed ones and he sucks in a breath.

“Oh, sorry… I thought…burglar.” He stammers, scratching the back of his head, albeit confused. “What time is it?”

Glancing towards the oven, Wanda squints. “Late, it’s 3 AM.” She replies and Peter grunts, mumbling about how it’s way past his bedtime.

Amid his movements to stand up, your head slips from his grasp, colliding with the foot of the table with a heavy thud and he stumbles back. Wanda gasps, shooting Peter a glare, (who doesn’t really register it in his state of distortion) before she rushes to aid you.

“What the fuck…” You mumble groggily, hissing at the stinging coming from the back of your head, slowly lifting yourself up to find a concerned Wanda helping you sit. “Wanda?” Now you were really confused but nevertheless allowed her to move you.

The room was cold, chills rushing through your body in the absence of warmth, but the soft touch of warm hands felt incredible against your skin. Not being able to help yourself you leaned into her touch, noticing the way Wanda’s breath hitched.

God, she was so cute.

Wanda swallows dryly and you think you might’ve said that out loud, judging by the way her fingers tremble and she’s turning away a blushing mess. But you don’t dwell on it as she continues to rub the back of your head to ease the pain.

“Are you okay dorogoy?” She coos and you nod wryly, her face contorting into one of mellows but neither of you says anything. Instead, you will your eyes to focus on her own, gazing into the depths of the forests that haunt your heart, and you have no clue why.

Sighing, she redirects her attention, eyes flickering between the both of you who are lost in thought. Part of her feels it’s from exhaustion but there’s something else written on your face that has her curiosity peaking.

“Why aren’t you in bed? Both of you, it’s late.” She chides gently, and you flinch.

“We got caught up with…” Peter starts to explain, motioning towards the Lego set and his demeanor avoidant. “that.”

Wanda notices his shaken tone and frowns. It’s clear she doesn’t fully believe him and she opens her mouth to indulge him further but you squeeze her hand, pursing your lips to ask her to drop it. Her brows furrow in silent question, eyes glinting with whirlwinds of misunderstanding and hurt, but you’re too tired to answer any.

Instead, you give her a reassuring smile.

Peter had a rough time yesterday, that’s all, little witch, You whisper into her mind, seeing Wanda’s eyes turn a shade of red before returning back to you, accepting the response with a hesitant nod.

“You really should get to bed Y/n…” Wanda tells you, rising to her feet and offering you her hand in the process. “You too Peter.”

Peter nodded in agreement almost instantly, not wanting to stay any longer in his state of lethargy. Wanda makes a mental note to speak to Tony about decreasing his work hours.

However, in contrast to Peter’s compliance, you deny her suggestion with a shake of your head.

“S’too far.” You mutter under your breath, tugging webs to the corners of each room to create a hammock so naturally as if you had done it a thousand times. Which you probably have.

For a moment Wanda looked amazed, marveling at your abilities to manipulate and create whatever you needed with just webbed fluids. But then you were snoring soundly on the makeshift bed—hammock—oblivious to the concerns you had stirred up and Wanda realized that wasn’t the point.

When she turned to Peter for help, the younger boy scratched the back of his head nervously, shrugging his shoulders and giving an apologetic look.

Seeing as there was nothing else she could do, nor did she wish to wake you again for the second time tonight, a sigh escaped Wanda’s lips. Red tendrils wrapped around a blanket, pulling it closer until it encompassed your body completely. She felt the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, but with Peter in the room, she held back to avoid any awkwardness

Your lips curled into a soft smile, and Wanda returned it before turning on her heels to guide the other spider into bed.

At least this one listens. The thought came bitterly, causing Wanda to grimace.

“I honestly don’t understand why she keeps doing this when she has a perfectly good mattress.” Wanda sighs deeply, her voice laced with exhaustion as she walks up the steps.

Peter blinks, giving another helpless shrug, gripping onto the rail for dear life. “I think it’s just a spider thing, sleep is anywhere you make it.”

“But you sleep in your bed every night.” She points out, shivering at the sudden temperature.

The air is turning colder and Wanda wonders if the singular blanket she gave you would be enough. She’s tugging at her sleeves when Peter interrupts her thoughts.

“That is true…” A yawn cut through the younger boy's speech as he approached his door, looking dangerously close to passing out. “But I don't have problems with sleeping alone.”

Wanda furrows her brows as the words register. Alone? You can’t sleep because you feel alone? But before she could pry further Peter was leaning against the wooden frame, fast asleep. And Wanda didn’t have it in her to ask anymore.

Once she had successfully tucked in Peter, she closed the door gently, never once did you leave her mind. Leaning against the door, Wanda tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind caught in thought but one remained a constant.

Spiders really can sleep anywhere.

—

4. Staircases

Tired was an understatement, Wanda was spent. Completely and utterly exasperated by your behavior. There was an outstanding record for the amounts of migraines you’ve given her this month, knocking Pietro off the scoreboard by two.

She was starting to feel annoyed and rightfully so as she stared at the crowd with a sour expression on her face. For the fourth time in a month, you were nowhere to be found and it was your party.

Before Christmas, it was a tradition in the compound to throw a Gala in honor of the friendly neighborhood spiders who had worked overtime to keep New Yorkers safe for the holidays and throughout the year.

More so an excuse for Tony to itch that insatiable party nerve of his before the big Christmas one.

Of course, this gala was no exception to a roaring crowd. The dance floor was packed with sweaty people grinding on one another and Wanda swears she could see even Bruce getting into the groove of it. At the bar, only Natasha remained with a couple of straying men. So where were you?

A completely plastered Tony walked past the witch, stumbling as he did so and fiddling with his pants. Immediately Wanda grasped on his suit before he could get too far, enticing a yelp when she tugged the man to a secluded corner.

“Tony, where's Y/n?” Wanda asked through gritted teeth. She didn’t know why—call it intuition—but for some reason, she felt your disappearance had something to do with him.

Tony scrunched his face, glancing over her shoulder with urgency and shouting back louder. “Where’s the restroom? That’s what I’m trying to figure out Maximoff, I’m pissing myself here!”

“Y/n, Tony, Y/n.” Wanda says exasperatedly.

Tony's mouth forms an ‘oh’ as the realization dawns on him before he’s giggling like a schoolgirl which only heightens Wanda’s worries.

“Ah, Y/n, funny story actually—”

It was not a funny story, and hearing the end of it had Wanda feeling even more upset and aggravated at the man.

She didn’t know whether to be more angry at the fact you “consented” to that stupid dare in the first place or Tony coming up with the bright idea to launch you midair while intoxicated in his death trap tin suit.

Which is how Wanda found you, through Tony’s utter stupidity and your sleepiness. Much to her relief, you weren’t dangling from a ledge or on top of the Empire State Building; instead, cozied up on the staircase with a beer bottle in hand threatening to fall off at any given moment. Tony’s red helmet sat snuggly on your head, leaning against the wall.

Wanda huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes and approaching swiftly to wake you. Her hand collided with the back of your neck, sparing you absolutely no mercy as you sputtered awake.

“Ouch,” You groaned, blinking dazedly beneath the helmet as all your senses came back to you, along with a searing headache.

You grimaced at the sight of the bottle in your hand, setting it aside as if it could burn you with one single touch.

That explains the headache.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” Came that voice you knew all too well. You swore you could feel the hairs on your body standing as you slowly turned to see, shivering at the goosebumps, and being met with the sight of a very displeased Wanda.

Her arms folded against her chest, head tilted at just the right angle to make you scared shitless. Still, the slight furrow to her brows and teary glimmer in her eyes had you thinking she wasn’t entirely angry, just, upset—sad.

And maybe if your mind wasn’t so foggy, you would’ve taken it into account, and taken her into your arms.

“Wanda…?” You murmured, attempting to feign innocence as if she wasn’t glaring daggers into your skull. “Oh! Wanda!” You exclaimed, mustering a very nervous chuckle.

As if the helmet could sense your distress it decided that opening would be the best option and smiled sheepishly. Wanda raised an unimpressed brow, green darkened eyes digging into your soul and you sighed in defeat. Not exactly the happy welcome you expected.

Worth a shot.

“Don’t ‘Oh Wanda’ me! Seriously? Sleeping at a Gala!?” She hissed, and you stiffened, feeling the need to back up. “And on the stairs of all places, do you know how much of a hazard that is?”

You scoffed disbelievingly, feeling the need to defend yourself. “Come on Wanda, we both know Tony’s parties—“ You cut off your speech, putting your fingers up in quotation marks to quote her. “Sorry, ‘Galas’ are anything but formal.”

Then you’re pointing at the rousing crowd above you who you can hear yelling through muffled walls ‘Chug! Chug! Chug!’ and give Wanda a pointed look, who then rolls her eyes again.

“That’s not the point Y/n. It’s your party.”

It’s Wanda’s diminished expression that has you sobering up instantly. Her tightened eyes stared back at your own, and you hated the guilt tugging at your chest. In the worst of states, you wouldn’t want her looking at you like that, not when you’ve seen her look at you better. It was selfish, but was it? To wish to see her smile again? You didn’t know, but it was worth more than whatever goddamn party—gala they threw at you.

With a new mindset in mind, believing you’d have more fun with Wanda than without, you dusted yourself off, properly taking the helmet off this time. You carried it under one arm and offered the other. Wanda looked at you quizzically at the sudden change but you didn’t let that faze you, taking the initiative to wrap your arm around her own.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you just wanted to, so you did, leaning over to plant a short kiss on her cheek and Wanda lost all train of thought then and there.

“You’re right, I’m sorry–I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair and Wanda gives you a look of sympathy.

She squeezes your arm with her other hand, shaking her head. Her tone is soft as she rubs a comforting hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you Y/n…we all have our rough patches. Just, let me be there for you. You don’t have to hide away.”

You suck your teeth, the urge to disagree coming in strongly but you resign, feeling embarrassed under her gaze and your confidence ends short-lived.

Pursing your lips, your eyes drift downwards to your arms, not really sure what to do next. Noticing your struggle, Wanda takes pity on you and decides to drop the subject for another day, softly tugging on your forearm as she speaks.

“Let’s dance?”

“Yes please.” You groan, barely finishing your sentence before Wanda leads you up the stairs and you almost stumble. Grumbling to yourself as you straighten up, you level Wanda a look in caution. “Just be warned, I can’t really tell the difference between my left and right foot right now.”

“It’s okay, you were never much of a good dancer anyway.” She hums teasingly, failing miserably at hiding her smirk.

You let out a gasp, feigning mock offense as you raise a hand to your heart, wounded. “Geez Maximoff, you know, typically you’re supposed to woo your dancing partner, not crush their hopes and spirits.”

The witch scoffs, rolling her eyes. Once you’re off the stairs and stable enough, she makes no point in waiting for you or giving you any answer as she walks through the bustling crowd and you quickly rush to catch up with her.

“Wow! And now you’re ignoring me!” You yell over the noise, a pout adorned on your lips. “And leaving me?! Wanda I must say, I’m not quite enjoying these new colors on you. What happened to manners–?”

You’re cut off abruptly by a sudden tug to your arm by Wanda, who’s pulling you to the side and you grin. She has two cups of what you assume is tropical punch in her hand and hands one to you. Lowering your nose, you smell the drink to check if it’s spiked. Wanda gives you an unimpressed look, and you think she looks hot when she’s annoyed with you.

Suddenly she’s slapping your shoulder with a burning pink tint on her cheeks, completely exasperated as she replies “My god, do you have an off switch?”

You shine a toothy smile, leaning against the wall for support as you bring the cup to your lips, a familiar mischievous glint in your eyes that has Wanda regretting saying anything.

You cautiously lean into the space, whispering for only her to hear, “No, but I do have a couple of ideas on how to keep me quiet.”

To say it comes out more suggestive than you intended was an understatement. But Wanda doesn’t let that deter her, doubling down.

“Oh really?” Her head tilts, quirking an amused brow and you clear your throat to regain yourself.

The air becomes a little thicker than before and no amount of alcohol can save you from the blood pounding in your ears. The space between you has become thinner to the point where you can feel her breath on your lips and you pretend the close proximity holds no effect on you but your trembling fingers say otherwise.

“Mhm, two words,” You murmur affectedly, and Wanda swallows. Your mind is clouded by all that is her so you speak slowly, feeling your throat dry. “Duck Tape.”

“One of these days, I’m gonna throw you out of the building.” Wanda huffs as you snicker, crossing her arms as she tries to fix her hair.

Unable to help it, you tentatively reach your hand out, waiting for Wanda to pull away. When she makes no move, you carefully brush the strands away from her face, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver down her spine.

Pulling away, you meet her hazy gaze and you swallow wryly, trembling. Giving her a lopsided grin as you stumble back, equally as affected. You really have to stop doing that.

“Jokes on you, I’ve already done that tonight.” Comes your attempt to clear the air, resulting in another cross expression from the witch and you smile sheepishly.

“Y/n.”

Sucking your lips into your mouth, you nod. You raise a finger as you take one last sip from your cup, placing it on the table as you grab her hand again. “Right, sorry, dancing.”

Dragging her towards the dance floor, you spared one last look. This time finding pure adoration shining through her features as she stared at you almost…lovingly before she rolled her eyes. A look you preferred to see instead. Even if it had your brain short-circuiting.

A look that thankfully carried on when she found you half crashed into the Christmas tree after Tony had asked you to put up decorations, almost fast asleep.

“You’re an idiot.” Wanda sighed with a slight curl to her lips and you took that as a silent victory. She shook her head as she carried you down the hallway with her magic.

“Yeah, I know…” You mumbled, still grinning which was quickly wiped as she let go of the magic carrying you. “Hey!”

Wanda squeaks as you reach out to grab her, running away the next second and you quickly follow with the promise that you’ll catch her, laughter echoing through the corridors as you chase each other.

—

5. Pillow Forts

Construction wasn’t exactly your forte unless it involved miniature bricks with instruction manuals. Aside from that, it was very obvious that Peter was the more resourceful spider as Steve liked to put it. You knew the man meant well when he said it and your ego completely shattered but despite the mental bruise, you never made a move to practice.

It wasn’t like stopping trains or stringing a boat back together required much engineering when you had webs stickier than epoxy.

And now, veins popping, sunk to your knees, you deeply regretted that decision. You wanted to strangle Peter, you envied his master builder abilities. The jumble of pillows on the floor mocking you with a stare that you could only describe as insulting if pillows could…stare.

It was pathetic really, no, extremely pathetic and sad. Who has trouble building a pillow fort?! What was supposed to be a simple project, was the newfound bane of your existence. No matter how you positioned them, they tumbled. Limiting yourself to building by web fluid was becoming a choice to regret too. It made sense, every superhero grows dependent on their powers, it’s only natural, but this time you were determined to build something without your abilities.

Glancing over at the clock, it read a little past nine—bordering on lines of ten- you bit the inside of your cheek, figuring you probably had a couple of minutes before Wanda’s arrival.

Huffing, you returned your attention to the pillows and took them in your arms once more. This time with determination in your eyes and the thought of who you were building this for, remnant in your head and heart.

As you stood back to admire your finished work, you surprised yourself. It wasn’t perfect and some pillows were more crooked than others but it was comfortable. Just as you had envisioned—from Pinterest boards.

It almost looked just as good as the ones Wanda had built for you after long missions and you wished you had spent less time staring at her and more time focusing on how she was arranging the blankets.

But the fortress only became better when you clicked on the tiny remote, turning on the fairy lights that hugged the curves of the pillows, bringing it all together in a bright vibrant glow and you smiled to yourself as the lights glimmered, imagining how happy Wanda would be.

Your eyes returned to the clock and immediately widened next. “Shit!” You gasped, rushing upstairs to pick out the main attraction, silently scolding yourself for forgetting in the first place; Sitcoms.

You grumbled to yourself as you dug through the drawer at the multitudes of never-ending options. Wanda had always preferred to watch sitcoms on a VHS tape, although the compound had access to all streaming services she claimed it didn’t feel the same. Truth be told, you didn’t understand why they were in your room in the first place but you assumed it had to do with the fact that Wanda always left them, tucked neatly in her nightstand before she curled underneath the covers with you.

You paused.

Her nightstand?

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked across the room, realizing that there were a lot of things she left behind. Ranging from articles of clothing to a spare toothbrush in your bedroom and since when did you get decorative pillows? And why were there so many?

You shrugged the thought off, assuming she was just really forgetful, besides it wasn’t like you were usually sleeping here anyway. You continued to dig through the classics until your eyes landed on the familiar I Love Lucy cover.

Bingo

Smiling to yourself, you walked downstairs with the tape pocketed. Now you just had to be patient and wait a few until Wanda arrived from the hanger—

“Y/n?” Your heart startles and you're clutching your chest, turning to scold whoever scared you before the words die in your throat as you take in her appearance.

You suck in a deep breath because you feel as if all the air in your lungs has been taken.

She was breathtaking without even trying. Wet strands of hair clung to her face as she stared at you incredulously, eyes flickering between you and the fortress. Clad in nothing but a loose graphic t-shirt (that you briefly recognized as your own), and shorts that were making you dizzy.

You cursed yourself mentally, shaking yourself out of any inappropriate thoughts. She’s your best friend for God's sake!

“Surprise?” That is what you say with a weak smile and a much higher pitch than intended. Keep it subtle. Things weren’t going entirely as planned, however, you could improvise.

Wanda stares back amused, an unfamiliar glint in her eyes pooling, taking a step closer until her hand is dragging against your forearm. “Dorogoy, what’s all this?”

“I built it for us, I figured maybe you’d like to unwind…I know you had it pretty hard today and you’ve looked stressed all week.” You mumbled meekly, shifting against her touch. Pull it together man.

“Really?” She picked up her head, looking at you adoringly–that you missed from the bundle of nerves wracking at your mind, mistaking the look for one of contempt.

But you pushed forward, believing it was a nice gesture. And even though all the logical parts of your brain tell you not to, you slowly untangle yourself from the witch anyway, missing the hurt that crosses her expression.

You didn’t know why you were so nervous today.

“Yeah, I picked out your favorite too.” You say half breathlessly, reaching for the tape in your pocket to show her. “Snacks and sitcoms, and more if you need anything. I’ve just gotta set up the TV before this and all since you came back a little earlier than I expected.”

During your rant, you walked towards the television to find the player. Fiddling with it to distract yourself from the rising goosebumps picking at your body, but Wanda didn’t need to know that. With your back turned you failed to notice the scene unfolding behind you. Her eyes were slightly watered and she lingered by your side. Part of her, hesitant to reach out so instead she let them fall to her side, fiddling with her sleeves in a manner of comfort.

Rummaging through the cabinets you exclaimed as you found it, turning forward with the device held to your chest, completely oblivious of the inner turmoil you’ve caused inside the other girl.

“Maybe even grab some popcorn unless you’d prefer chips? Seriously Wanda, whatever you want, I just want you to feel better—”

“Y/n?” She cuts in.

“Yeah?”

“Hug me, please?” She whispers, her voice cracking with desperation, her eyes unable to meet yours, ashamed of the vulnerability, and waves of regret crawl over you for letting go of her in the first place. “I’m sorry, I just really missed you and things went pretty badly- I just–”

It’s you who cuts her off next, pulling her into your embrace, feeling her tremble against you. Wanda chokes back a sob, and tears blur your vision as you hold her tightly.

You whisper words of comfort, murmuring, ‘I know, it’s okay, I know.’, while cradling her head against your chest. Despite being only slightly taller than her, you fit together perfectly, and you rest your head atop her chin. She exhales softly, her breath hitching with each shudder as she inhales your scent. Her arms move from your chest to return the embrace, burrowing herself into your chest and clinging to you as if you’d vanish again.

After a few moments, Wanda’s breathing begins to even, but she shows no signs of releasing you anytime soon. You gently squeeze her waist, hoping to draw her attention. Pressing a kiss to her hair, murmuring softly as you ask:

“Is…Is there anything else you need?”

Sighing, Wanda shakes her head, nuzzling further into you. “Just you, I don’t need anything else.”

“Okay.” You mumble into her hair, your fingers tracing gentle patterns across her back. For a moment, you stand there, bodies swaying softly as you hold each other. Selfishly allowing yourself to soak in the feeling of having her so close to you. “But if you even dare to grab my Cool Ranch Doritos just know I told you—”

Wanda groans, and you stifle your laughter when her hand playfully smacks your shoulder. You can almost feel her eyes rolling.

“Shut up, I don’t even like those.”

“Yeah right! I can still see the crumbs on your chin from last time!” You laugh in disbelief and Wanda pulls back gaping, completely affronted.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many! It was a party-sized bag—that I was planning on saving by the way, and you finished it!”

“Oh my god, just get in the fort before I change my mind and leave.”

It doesn’t take a lot of convincing to get you in the fort when soft hands lace into your own, dragging you inside. You’re more than willing to follow her anywhere.

She’s quick to push you into the pile of pillows, laughing when you squeal from the sudden impact. Shuffling underneath your arm and making herself comfortable against you, she turns to look up at you with a smile and you quickly turn into a flustered mess. With how she’s looking at you, you can’t help but feel that she’s doing it on purpose.

Using her magic Wanda’s able to connect the TV from your position, not once disconnecting your bodies. She smiles in success when it works, sinking further into the comforting atmosphere as the show plays softly in the background.

As the lights glimmer between your bodies, Wanda finds herself more captivated by you than the show itself. How could she not? After you’ve devoted so much of your time just to make her smile. A pang of gratitude hits Wanda’s heart, mingling with a feeling she knows all too well—a feeling she had tried to pass off as something smaller than love. But the more she spent with you, the more she realized it was pointless to deny.

Part of her hoped you’d choose to stay, to stay with her, because she isn’t sure how she’d be without you.

Wanda knew she was letting it get into her head—but then you look at her, tenderly, as if she was the only girl in the world and fantasies resurfaced along with uncontrollable feelings that felt stronger than herself. Fantasies of one day being together, like this forever. Not just one singular moment but for the rest of your lives.

The feeling of your body vibrating with laughter quickly snaps her out of her senses and she turns to look at the screen where a joke plays out. And god is that feeling one of her favorites. What drives her crazy is how you don’t seem to even notice how affected you make her. The way your hands would gradually grow bolder, slowly slipping past the hem of her shirt and grazing the skin underneath, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake. And how, whether consciously or not, you’d tighten your grip around her, pulling her in closer in a possessively deliberate way that had her biting her lip.

Was it really selfish to want more?

The thought swirled in Wanda’s mind heavily, but unbeknownst to her, it was in yours too.

Wanda yearned for more than fleeting touches that led to nowhere. She craved more than unspoken vows you carried in silence, being too afraid to say anything, mortified by the thought of ruining what you had—unknowingly missing how you could have better.

Wanda Maximoff wanted to be yours.

The thought awoke her with a slight jolt and it had taken her a second to comprehend that she was asleep, the TV long since turned off then. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recalled her vivid imaginations, realizing what had been originally just a second of resting her eyes had resulted in a 3-hour nap.

But with the thoughts still fresh in her mind, Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care. She was on a mission.

“Y/n?” Her voice calls out slightly hoarse, breaking the silence. But the silence remains unbroken and Wanda frowns, removing her head from your shoulder to look at you.

You’re sound asleep next to her, a faint trail of drool lining your lips. Bags are evident below your eyelids, and Wanda lets out a small ‘oh’. You had fallen asleep too.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Wanda shook her head softly, an amused smile playing on her lips as she admired you. Deciding that confessions could wait for another time, she leaned back and tugged a blanket forward, encasing you both again into that warm atmosphere.

Recalling words you had said before: “A little back pain is worth the sleep”. She couldn’t help but agree more when it was next to you.

—

Together

There were two things you loved more than being Spider-Man in the world.

Lightsabers, and maybe potentially Wanda.

The latter being much more intimate than the first but you get the jist. The point was, that you liked Wanda. You were sure of it, with everything in your mind, body, and soul.

So, why were you avoiding her?

Cowardice.

Weeks had passed since that night. You still vividly remember the feeling of waking up to Wanda’s sleeping form, resting comfortably on top of you. After all, it was the best sleep you’ve had in a while.

The sight had initially startled you, but what scared you most was the normalcy of it all. The domesticity, how bright Wanda’s eyes shone in the daylight, looking at you as if you were a treasure from the depths of Atlantis. How eager she was to make you breakfast and how her touch never left yours throughout the process.

Miles away in New York, you could still feel her.

“Chocolate or blueberry?” Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side to look at you.

The familiar scent of pancakes wafted through the air and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before the team came to steal them all.

Your hold remained firm on her waist as you hugged her from behind, swaying softly to the tunes of nothing. Not wanting the moment to end just yet, you remained silent, allowing yourself to bask in the peace. But Wanda had other plans, quickly squeezing at your arm to grab your attention and you rolled your eyes, amused by her impatience.

Posing a thoughtful expression, you eyed the batter before turning to the basket of blueberries. They looked fresh, not too ripe to be sour, and not too soft to be soggy.

“Hmmm, how good are the blueberries?”

Wanda shrugged absentmindedly, whisking at the batter as she leaned back into you, stealing whatever warmth she could. “Pretty good, I grew them myself.”

The mental image of Wanda in her gardening gear made you smile a little more than expected, and you hid into her shoulder, inhaling her scent. Absolutely hooked.

“Did you?” You reply, watching as Wanda nods her head shyly and you chuckle. Unintentionally dragging your lips across her cheek as you press delicate kisses to her skin, murmuring softly in her ear, “What a talented little witch.”

Wanda laughs, blushing as she attempts to shrug you away, not really understanding why you’re being so touchy but not opposed to it either. “Stop it.”

Your lips tug into a lazy grin as you laugh with her, avoiding her attacks and keeping your grip firm. “It’s true Wands…you’re great at everything really. Never once have you failed to amaze me—“

“Here, try this.” That is all she says before shoving multiple berries into your mouth, distracting you before you can pay too much attention to her flustered state.

You gasp at the sudden impact but graciously accept the blueberries into your mouth, playfully glaring at her as you chew. Her nose scrunches adorably, turning in your arms to watch you eat them, her face lighting up and offering you some more.

Though, when you lift your hand to take them, she swats it away. Cupping your cheeks in her hands, softly stroking at your face with her thumbs, you rolled your eyes. Complying with rosy cheeks as she fed them to you.

As you held her, the world outside seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, wrapped in a safe haven you’ve created. This moment was everything—a fragile glimpse into a future you desperately wanted but were too afraid to reach for.

Although neither of you seemed too keen on parting, Wanda’s hands were preoccupied with the feel of your skin underneath her own, repeating senseless patterns. That is until the oven goes off with a loud bang and you both break away bashfully.

Before you can make a move, Wanda lets out a deep breath. Hands gently smoothing over your shirt, her touch lingering with tender care. She pats your chest softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

“Blueberries it is.”

You run a hand over your face as the memory washes over you, letting out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t affect you this much, and you didn’t want to read into it because that would require acceptance.

The risk of ruining something you held so dearly hurts you more than the silence you keep. Heroes aren’t supposed to be afraid, and yet it’s all you felt in your heart at the thought of losing her. But your heart ached for more, just even the slightest glimpse into what could be. And when you closed your eyes, you could almost see it. An alluring figure stringing you along, captivating you with their lush green eyes, promising you that they’d be yours forever.

But those were dreams, not real life.

A real-life you wanted with Wanda.

You slowly sink into your thoughts, your mind both your stronghold and a labyrinth of sorrow. As you wipe the tears that blur your vision, you gaze down at the streets of New York. Despite the hour, the city remained wide awake. Citizens walked with pure radiance of confidence, towering buildings seeming so distant and away from where you sat. Did they know? Did anyone know that one of their beloved Spider-mans was capable of turning a mess so easily?

The weight of it all feels suffocating and no amount of air can prevent the tightness that clogs at your throat, heavy breaths leaving your body as you recount your errors. You were raised to believe that love was this grand, amazing thing. But now you want to scoff at everyone who fed into your hopelessness, fed into those lies. If love was so wonderful, then how come it hurt so much?

But then, without warning your senses are ringing, and your eyes widen as a figure lands in your space with a slight stumble. The clouds of smoke that surround them make it hard for you to tell who it is and you raise your hand, ready to attack.

And then, recognition dawns on you as the smoke settles. Your body easily relaxes and loosens the grip on your strayed mask next to you. With a trembling exhale, you lower your hand to take a moment to breathe, drawing in a deep calming breath and your lungs silently thank you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony greets, exiting his suit with a lopsided smile. One that doesn’t quite meet his eyes but you know better than to pry.

“Tony?” You furrow your brows, wanting to ask why he’s here but the bag in his hands tells you all you need to know. “Another late-night donut run?”

“Pepper thinks I should lay off the suits for a while.” He explains with a sigh, grunting as he sits down next to you, rattling the bag in his hands for emphasis. “And donuts are the only thing that both keep me busy and fulfilled. Win-win don’t you think?”

“Depends on what type of donuts you picked.” You mused with a hum.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Long John.” He retorts with a smirk, reaching into his bag to place a donut in your hands. Patting your shoulder as he did so. “Here, for your troubles.”

You cocked your head curiously, examining the sweet with a soft smile. “A maple bar, sweet.”

Thanking him, you took slow soft bites, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth as you looked towards the city in thought. You felt Tony’s stare and tried your best to ignore it, not wanting pity.

“In my entire years of living, not once have I ever seen someone looking so sad while holding a donut.” He commented, taking a bite of his own donut and you release a sigh. “It’s really depressing to look at.”

He spoke between bites, causing you to grimace. Backing away, you studied your mentor incredulously, analyzing his facial features in the hope it’d give you a clue as to why exactly he was here. Finding nothing, but an unusual softness to his features, you raised a wary brow.

“Did you come all this way just to patronize me, Stark?” You sneered with a glare. Feeling like the donut was really just bait to lure you into a conversation.

Which you had admittedly been postponing from both Steve and him, using the city as an excuse to step away from your problems. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with you again.

And here he was, the tightness behind his eyes diminishing as he stared at you, carefully, with laces of soft affection instead. You weren’t sure if you liked this look.

“A little birdie—or should I say spider, told me about your troubles with our resident Maximoff and I figured it’s time you got advice from the love doctor.” His hand came to his chest, motioning to himself and you scoffed in disbelief before turning into one of disgust. “And listen, I love Pietro, but I really don’t think—“

“Pietro?! Ew, god, no.” You say hurriedly, eager to dispel those rumors. Your distaste quickly turns into irritation as you realize with an offended gasp. “Is Peter seriously going around and spreading this?! Tony what the fuck.”

“Right, witchy then.” He sucks his teeth, waving a finger your way and you shove at his shoulders with embarrassment. Not letting that deter him, he scratches his chin, posing a thoughtful expression as he begins, “Love is scary, isn’t it? You’re scared. Scared of messing things up, scared of hurting her, losing her—“

“This is really inspiring Tony.”

“Pipe down Pipsqueak I’m not finished,” He huffed, clearing his throat before returning to his speech. “The point in all this is that you’re afraid. And that’s okay, so long as you don’t let those fears hold you back. Hell I’m still scared Pepper will leave me for someone more sensible, someone who won’t constantly be putting her in danger.”

His admission doesn’t come easy, and you notice the frown and crease in his eyebrows as he says so. Releasing another breath, you think about his words, and how fear could hold someone back. Reflecting on the past days, all you notice is clear examples of how it’s done this, stopping you from chasing what you really want. Still, you shake your head, voice cracking as you admit:

“I just don't want her to get hurt, or get hurt.“

Tony blinks, looking at you with an emotion you don’t know. But in his eyes, he sees himself, speaking gently, “You’ll never know if you don’t try, Y/n.”

“Think about it.” Comes the last thing he’s to say as he stands up with a grunt. Hands dusting himself off and bending over to grab his bag, pointing to you with a reassuring grin.

The words swirl around your head like a roundabout, leading to only one conclusion and you know what you have to do. Face those fears, even if the words get stuck in your throat. Before Tony can get too far, you stand up, stammering on your words as you thank him.

Tony nods inside his suit, propelling himself as he speaks. “Anytime, stay in school, and help Peter with his history homework will you?”

You shake your head, chuckling softly and Tony ruffles your hair, flying off with a booming “Ciao!” Leaving you alone to collect yourself, bidding him goodbye.

Placing the last bit of the donut in your mouth, you slip on your mask. Launching yourself through the city to reach your destination, flying past buildings and deep into the wooded suburbs where you’d find the compound.

There wasn’t a world in which you could successfully avoid Wanda, not forever at least. It was torture for yourself too these past few days, and you’d be dammed if you did it again.

As you reached the vicinity, fear washed over you again, your heart beating rapidly the closer you approached. Tony’s words rang in your mind and you huffed, ignoring whatever your senses were telling you and letting your emotions speak louder.

Rest could wait until later, for now, you had a witch to confront—confess to.

You decided to take the easier route, being her window as you had down many nights prior. As you swung towards the wall, you found yourself stuck. Hanging from the rooftop, hand frozen midair as you stared at your reflection, was this really a good idea? In the middle of the night?

It was a tranquil, beautiful night, with fresh air flowing through the trees, and the only source of light being the soft glow of the moon. Your eyes softly traced through the beauty of nature, losing yourself in the picturesque landscape. Perfect conditions for an Avenger to catch some sleep in and you quickly found yourself double thinking by her window. Anxiety crawls through you—what if she was asleep already and didn’t wanna see you? Surely you shouldn’t interfere with Wanda’s beauty sleep. Or should you—?

“Did you really come all this way to see me just to hang outside of my window like a creep?” Your heart startled at the sudden voice and you didn’t even notice when Wanda had opened the window but there she was, a crooked smile on her lips with a curious tilt to her head.

The moonlight only enhanced Wanda's beauty further, and you knew you were staring. But you couldn’t tear your gaze away, mesmerized, counting every freckle you could spot; dreaming of one day kissing each speck you could find.

You wondered if women like Wanda inspired philosophers to write the most beautiful sayings because you’re certain if you had the intelligence you’d do the same. It’s only when Wanda cleared her throat, a small blush tinting her cheeks, that you turned away.

You sighed to try and collect yourself, letting your previous anxieties disappear. “Well, you know how much I love hanging out with you.” You joked, grinning at the groan Wanda let out as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“Dork.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged.

“Most definitely.” She says before moving closer, touching the ridges of your mask, and your heart races when she pulls it down just the slightest. You lean eagerly against her palm without a second thought, savoring her touch. It feels as if time freezes, and you realize how intensely you’ve missed Wanda these past days.

You think Wanda feels the same with how she looks at you, hand tracing the small scar etched into your chin with a frown. Her hand shutters a bright red and you lean into it like second nature, knowing what she seeks; to feel you. Something that came often after missions back home, a reminder that you were still here, but as you opened your eyes to stare back into her own, it felt different. Dangerously close to intimate and emotions build against your throat, constricting you because you can’t handle how close you are. How close you could be to changing things. Your defenses fly up again and you’re inching away despite not being able to get far with Wanda keeping you still–so you rack your brain, trying to find something to say to ease the tension—deflect, maybe a joke?

But any witty retort you had is quickly forgotten as Wanda hesitantly leans closer, testing the waters, and freezing you on the spot. You’re sure Wanda can hear your heart racing, but she doesn’t seem to care. It’s only when you make no motion of moving that she brings your mouths together. And you think you’ve just taken a glimpse into heaven.

It's just as sweet as you imagined and more. Her lips are soft and sweet and welcoming, easily enveloping you in all that is her, something you fall into hopelessly yet again. You want to ask why she chose now to do this, but you don’t want to part. The position is less than ideal, and sure your neck is straining but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Wanda’s the first to pull away, equally taken by surprise by her actions, a deep flush taking her the next second with a small shy smile and you feel yourself swoon.

You hesitate as you try to speak again, find the proper words to say but Wanda stops you, taking off your mask properly and lifting herself off the frame, walking back into her room. She throws your mask aimlessly away behind her desk but you’re not paying too much attention to it.

“Why don’t you come inside for once? Catch some real sleep, on a real bed.” She suggests invitingly, throwing you a playful look over her shoulder. You let out a breathless chuckle, flipping yourself over to enter her window, and closing it behind you in one smooth motion.

Wanda doesn’t say much else as you help her un-tuck the sheets, shooting you an appreciative glance and you pause, realizing it is her from your dreams. She’s the girl. The girl you can’t escape at night. It baffles you how you didn’t see her sooner. And suddenly you understand.

You understand why you’re always thinking of her, why even in your sleep you don’t wish to leave. It’s not just some crush you’ve been harboring, no, it’s something more intimate. And you want to say it’s love, but you want to say it better. Not when you’re both so absorbed in the moment, so you wait, because for Wanda Maximoff you’d wait for any length.

“I do sleep.” You spoke softly, ignoring how nervous her stare was making you and the stare made you believe that she already knew. You sucked in a breath, knowing if you didn’t say it now you wouldn’t say it ever, “I’d just sleep better with you.”

Wanda’s eyes widened in surprise before softening in a way that made your resolve crumble and you looked away with a clumsy smile. It feels like a silly confession to make, but unbeknownst to you, it’s enough confirmation for Wanda.

Shuffling into the sheets, you turn to meet Wanda only for her to advance on you the next second into a much more tender kiss than before. It’s soft and a reassurance that she feels the same way, her lips tasting of strawberries and love. You melt into the kiss once again, placing your hand on her wrist that holds your face in place, deepening it to convey.

“I’ll keep you to that,” Wanda murmurs between kisses, placing one last peck on your lips before curling in closer to your body, hiding in the crook of your neck. You chuckle and wrap your arms around her.

Her presence enveloped you instantaneously, reducing every muscle in your body into mush; a wave of relief washed over you, almost in disbelief that this was real. It was almost overwhelming, how easily you found peace in her arms. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill as you realized that this simple moment was all you had ever wanted–a night of rest with the girl you cared for most, free from all the world's problems and whatever else dared to ruin you.

As if she could sense something was wrong, the witch shuffled closer, her lips tenderly grazing against the skin of your neck and you tensed as she pressed. Her lips lingered against your skin, repeating the process over and over until you relaxed as if to say I know, it’s okay. When her legs intertwined with yours, you didn’t resist, understanding that she needed you just as much as you needed her. Instead, you held her tighter as if she could slip away if you didn’t.

Truly believing that this was where you were supposed to be.

#this was adorably amazing #all the emotions were brilliantly portrayed #absolutely love everything about this #also could feel my back aching from those sleeping positions 😂#fic recs #wanda maximoff x reader

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chaisreading · 4 months

Text

Detecting Love Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 5171

Natasha Romanoff lies.

Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.

Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.

A charming smile here. A flirty wink there.

Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.

Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.

With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.

Then, she met you.

With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.

For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.

The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.

Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.

As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.

As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.”

Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.

Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.

You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.

The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.

Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers.

This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence.

A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time.

Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.

You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction.

With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.

It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.

Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.

“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”

“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”

You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.

As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.

“Y/n!” he calls excitedly.

His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.

Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.

“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”

Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.

The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.

“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”

“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.

Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.

“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.

“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”

The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.

She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day.

You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.

“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.

Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.

“I—”

But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view.

“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action.

Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.

But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.

“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”

A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.”

He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod.

“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”

Of course, she knows that.

You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up.

The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.

A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.

“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face.

“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.

Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”

“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”

Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.

Your ex-fiancée

Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.

“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.

Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.

“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”

Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.

“Why are you looking for Y/n?”

Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.

“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.

Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.

With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.

“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word.

Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.

As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.

I’m on the way to your office with your ex.

A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.

?!?!?

“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.

Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.

With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you.

Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.

“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures.

Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again.

“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again.

Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses.

However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.

Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator.

“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.

At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.

"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"

Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.

"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.

The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor.

Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.

“Did you tell her often?”

“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question.

Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”

"Oh, um, kind of," she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. "It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot."

The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.

“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.

Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word.

Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.

The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.

Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.

Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”

You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.

“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”

Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.

“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.

Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.

You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.

As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.

“I’ll just wait over there.”

Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes.

When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”

Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.

Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”

Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to.

Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head.

“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”

A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion.

However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.

“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.

You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.

“It’s a date.”

As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.

You give her a questioning look in confusion.

“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly.

Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”

Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.

“Put it on,” she says plainly.

You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.

“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.

“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.

A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.

“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.

“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans.

Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.

“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.

Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.

“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.

You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.

“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.

However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side.

Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.

A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.

“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.

Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.

Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.

Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”

She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.

“Protective, are we?”

Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile.

You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing.

“Ready to get started?” you ask.

Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you.

She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder.

With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.

Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.

“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it.

Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s.

His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.

“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.

Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.

“Who let him in here?”

Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”

Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.

“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”

A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”

The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.

Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her.

“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.

Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.

“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”

Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.

“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.

Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment.

Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.

You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.

Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.

As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.

Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.

“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.

Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?

You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.

“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.

Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.

Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.

As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.

Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you.

If only you could hear it from her for once.

Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.

“I lo—”

Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss.

Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers.

Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away.

“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence.

That’s when Natasha sees it.

The fear in your eyes.

“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously.

You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you.

“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.”

You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile.

“Except for that one time.”

Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.

The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.

Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it.

The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”

You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”

You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry.

The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.

“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.

You give her a confused look at her words.

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”

Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.

“No,” you answer in confusion.

Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”

She tilts her head at you in question.

“Am I lying?” she asks again.

Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud.

“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”

“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.

Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words.

You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”

Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.

“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words.

“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”

You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile.

“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”

She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”

A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.

“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.

Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.

The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you.

It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.

Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.

Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.

That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!

#fuck my heart 🥹#love this so much #and the way you write #you could really feel the emotions #fic recs #natasha romanoff x reader

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chaisreading · 4 months

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Elizabeth Olsen's Buzzfeed puppy interview ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ Bonus:

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chaisreading · 4 months

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Best of Both Worlds

Yes, the title is a Hannah Montana song, it fits perfectly. Also, for the sake of fiction, Leah did in fact play at Wembley, thank you!

Possibly the most long-awaited day of Leah's life; her national team return. It was one thing to play for The Arsenal again, but to represent her country whilst wearing the captain's armband at Wembley was an experience that simply couldn't be matched. And that's why it meant everything and more to her that you were in the stands with her family and her name on your back.

It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing match ever, a 1-1 draw against Sweden, but Leah was back in her rightful place under her rightful role, and that was a win in itself. With each step on the pitch, your heart swelled with pride, knowing the mountain she'd climbed with her injury and how hard it had been mentally with each bump in the road, especially when she had to drop out of the last camp.

But here you were, seated in the same area of the stands her family had been when she had won the Euros, watching on in awe at how seamlessly she slipped back into the team. You had missed that fateful day back in 2022, having only met Leah five months after it at a New Year's Eve party, but with the affection Leah described that day with, you may as well have lived it for yourself. Now, having experienced your first game at Wembley since you hadn't gone to that game last year, you were beaming as you watched your girl command her national team around again.

Sure, you'd been to many a game of her's before, but there was something different about this one. There were obvious reasons of course, her injury and whatnot, but seeing her lead her team out to a stadium filled with the most people she'd ever played in front of, a feeling settled in your chest that was unlike anything before. And when she was back in your arms at the end of the game, you would show her exactly how much you treasured her.

So, as she made her way around the stadium post-game, taking the time to applaud all the fans that had come along to watch and signing things for some, there was a smile of admiration on your face that her cousin beside you noticed. You blushed heavily at the teasing nudge she gave you with a smirk on her face.

"I suggest you wipe that cheesy, love-sick smile off your face before she comes over and bullies you for it." The woman next to you said, the pair of you laughing as you rolled your eyes, both all too familiar with her antics.

But the absence of said smile only lasted for about a minute, because then Leah was making her way over to the area of stands where you and her family was, and she had a down-turned smile on her face, the one she always did whilst trying to suppress her actual one. You were sat on the second row behind Leah's immediate family, so you stood back and waited for her to greet them all, also doing so as to not attract much fan attention. Leah made that hard though, because when her Mum pulled her into a bear hug, she indulged herself fully in it for about five seconds before her eyes flitted up to you and the corners of her mouth finally quirked up.

She jokingly pushed her Mum to the side so that she could reach out for you, and leaned up to hug you tightly. However, you pulled away after a few moments, and she made her disapproval very clear.

"What you doing that for?" She quizzed grumpily, looking utterly unimpressed up at you as some of her family members chuckled at her.

"The fans, Leah. We're at Wembley, think of all the videos." You whispered close to her ear, not quite intelligible for the others to hear.

"Who gives a toss, babe, I've hugged all my family here and you're no different." She responded, and she pulled you back in before you could complain. You wouldn't have complained anyway, because really who were you to deny your girlfriend's hug, your favourite in the world.

"Don't throw a strop later if there's about a million different angles of this." You teased, pinching her side where one of your hands rested around her.

"Doesn't matter, it's still you I get to go home with." She murmured before quickly pecking the spot under your ear and pulling back with one last squeeze. When she leaned back, she saw the light blush to your cheeks and smirked. "A year later and I've still got it."

You shoved her away lightly so that she could chat with the rest of her family before going off to do her post-match routine. Seeing her with her family, who she was so tight-knit with, was always a joy to see and you'd never get tired of seeing it. And as she jogged away back to the tunnel, her Mum turned to you and embraced you too.

"Thanks for coming, darling, it means a lot to her and to us too." She told you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. Praise and gratitude from her never got old either.

"Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world." You said back to her, to which she smiled and kissed your cheek.

You and the rest of the group made your way around to the family area inside the stadium to wait for her, making light conversation with them all to pass the time whilst Leah carried out media duties. It was fun and easy spending time with her family, because as a result of your girlfriend's relationship with them, you had grown almost as close with them too. Ever present at family dinners, birthdays, and events like christenings and weddings etc, now it was second nature for you to follow Leah to them. Within only a few months of being with Leah, every invite had your name on it too.

In the middle of your conversation with her cousins, talking excitedly about plans for the summer vacation later that year, you were interrupted as Leah finally appeared in her tracksuit with short wet blonde hair, a soft smile on her face. She spent a bit of time talking some more with her family, before bidding them farewell and wandering over to you.

"Home time?" You wondered, reaching a hand out to brush some of her hair back behind her shoulder.

You had, rather bravely, drove to the stadium today after Leah somehow secured you a reserved parking space, with the plan of driving yourself and Leah home your flat for the night before she travelled back up north to St. George's Park with the team tomorrow.

"God, yes." She sighed, and you smiled up at her.

"Let's go then." You took the hand she offered after pulling up her hood and let her lead the way out of the stadium.

Arriving at your car, with a few curious stares from fans to see if the hooded figure beside you was who they thought it was, you helped her lift her things into the boot of your car before the pair of you clambered in.

For the time it took to drive home, you caught up with her as it had been a few days since you had seen each other whilst she had been at camp. You, ever the safe driver, weren't one to hold your girlfriend's hands whilst on the road, always with two hands on the wheel at all times. Leah teased you of course, her and her English humour never falling to banter you everytime she could, but nevertheless when she was feeling a little clingy her hand would rest on your thigh as you drove, or it would massage and stroke the back of your neck as her arm leaned on your seat's headrest.

Today was a case of her resting a hand mindlessly on your thigh, something you would smile at constantly and glance down at the sight every chance you could get. She didn't notice though, busy talking and too tired to realise. Adjusting back to playing 90 minutes was something she was still in the middle of, not that she couldn't handle them because she obviously can, it's just the tiredness afterwards was something she hadn't experienced in a while of playing professionally.

That meant you weren't exactly surprised when she flopped down immediately on your sofa when you got home, not even bothering to drop her bags off in your room.

"Want some food, love?" You offered, pushing her bags to the side of the hallway so that they weren't a tripping hazard before leaning against the doorway of your lounge.

"You don't have to cook, we can just order a Nando's or something." Leah yawned, rubbing her eyes.

"Well, I thought ahead." You smiled at her, giggling at the tired and confused expression she silently responds with. "I meal-planned for you. I can heat up a plate of that Carribbean chicken and rice and veg if you want."

She gazed at you for a few moments before her head dropped back against the pillows with a groan.

"If I had a ring right now, I'd ask to marry you."

With a laugh, you took that as a yes and headed to the kitchen to do exactly as you said. As you were gone, the blonde put Netflix on the TV and chose the sitcom you had been watching together before pausing the episode to wait for you. She sat up with a groan and slumped back heavily, going onto her phone to reply to some friends and family.

Not so long later, you walked back in with Leah's food, handing it to her before sitting down beside her. Plate and fork in hand, she twisted her body to lean her back against your shoulder and happily tucked into her meal as you pressed play on the TV.

"Thanks for this, babe, I'm really grateful." She muttered as she ate, to which you smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"It's no problem, Le. I made a plate for myself too but I had a hot dog at half-time so I'm not hungry." You revealed, giggling as Leah chuckled.

"I know it's just a plate of food but... I don't know, means a lot to me that you thought about this." With a light blush, you shrugged nonchalantly and kissed the side of her head.

"I would say I know you'd do the same for me, but everybody knows you can't cook." You jested, grinning when she grumbled under her breath.

"I was only being nice, but alright." She huffed, but you only held her tighter against you.

"I'm kidding. I just love you, s'all. Wanna take care of you, especially after the last year and especially because I know you're a bit of a bottomless pit after a game." You say, and she hums in agreement. "If I'd have known my chicken was so good, it inspired thoughts of marriage, I'd have made it more often."

"I could never say no to that."

You both fell silent at that, more than content to enjoy each other's company with the show on in the background. Spending time with you after a game, just relaxing together, was fastly becoming Leah's favourite tradition. Going to dinners with friends or partying were great, but not much could beat this. Great food with even better company, in the arms of her girlfriend, Leah was finally at peace with the silence she had to greet after a game that was anything but.

That was something not many people would guess was a struggle in women's football. Going from playing in tiny stadiums to bigger venues but hardly any fans, to then playing in sold-out game after sold-out game for both club and country, that was her dream. What she wasn't expecting was the mental challenge that came with it. Spending well over 90 minutes in a booming stadium with fans that never ceased their chants was astounding to her, but the silence that met her when she would go home to a quiet and empty apartment was difficult.

She had worked on dealing with it better since the Euros where it had really picked up, but there was one thing that made it so much easier every time without fail. And that was you.

"You know I do plan to marry you, right?" Leah piped up out of nowhere sometime later, her plate long discarded to the coffee table as your positions on the couch remained the same. At her out-of-the-blue question that took your breath away a little, you cleared your throat and nodded though she couldn't see you.

"Yeah."

"Because I do want to marry you one day. I've known that from early on, I actually know the exact moment I thought that."

"Do tell, my love." You smiled, never one to pass up on a chance to hear just how and when Leah had fallen for you.

"The second time we saw each other after the New Year's party, when you started teasing me for not kissing you again after that night."

Much to Alex's dismay, the night of that party yourself and Leah had spent pretty much all of it talking about everything and nothing, compelled by a desire to get to know each other. That was until the blonde's intake of Dutch courage lived up to its name as she kissed you a little more than what could be described as friendly once the clock struck midnight. And when the night ended, no matter how much you didn't want to leave, you both shared a taxi to your respective apartments and exchanged details. It wasn't long before you saw her again though, in fact you saw her twice in the two weeks that followed, but the defender had been a little too embarrassed at her eager act a few weeks prior to kiss you again. But when you teased her one too many times about it, on the third 'date', she huffed before firmly yet delicately gripping your face and finally kissing you again.

"I spoke to Wally after our second date and she called me crazy for knowing I'd marry you when I didn't even have the balls to kiss you again." You laughed loudly at that, a notion Leah soon joined in with as she knew her past-self had acted in a ridiculous and shy way. "But that's the truth, babe. I knew I had to have you, and what better way to show that than snogging the life out of you on a random bench in London."

"Ew, Leah! Why describe it like that? I thought it was such a sweet moment, but you've just described it like we were two horny teenagers." She grimaced at the point you made, regretting it already.

"My bad. It was sweet. If not a bit... desperate." She snickered, grinning when you swatted her shoulder. "So, would you marry me then?"

"Wow. If this conversation couldn't get any less romantic, I think you've just put the nail in the coffin." Leah scoffed and sat up, fixing you with a disapproving look.

"That wasn't my actual proposal, you knob. I just wanna know if you'd say yes when I did eventually ask. Properly, that is." The defender asked with a shy smile, and you couldn't help but giggle at her face, doing so more when she frowned in confusion.

"Yes, I would accept your proposal. As long as it's with a nice ring and a better speech." You answered to put her out of her misery. She lets out a relieved sigh but smiling again.

"Noted."

With that, she stood up, now your turn to be confused. Squealing as she lifted you up bridal style, you laughed when she lay you down on your back length-ways across the sofa. Then, she kneeled against the cushions under your knees and carefully laid on top of you, her head resting against your stomach. Her hands came up to slide under your back and she sighed contently.

"Comfy?" You asked with a smile, your own hands settling on the back of her head.

"So comfy." She hummed, eyes closed as she faced away from the TV.

"If you're gonna fall asleep, Le, we may as well go to bed."

"No." She grunted. "I won't fall asleep. I just want to lay here for a bit."

"Alright." You conceded, your attention fully lost from the TV and instead on the girl draped over you.

You admired the slight view of her face available to you, your hands combing delicately through her almost dried hair as the only sounds shared between you were the calm and quiet breaths you both let out. A few minutes passed by and you thought she had gone to sleep, but she proved you wrong.

"This is my dream, you know."

"What is?" You asked her, moving one of your hands to rest on the side of your face and stroking her skin there with your thumb.

"Going home from a game to someone I love. Who I can fully switch off with." The small explanation had you beaming, beyond happy to hear how special you were to her.

"Well, I'm glad I can help, my love." You replied, a sheepishly proud smile on your face.

"I used to find it hard, y'know... our football blew up in popularity during the Euros, and I struggled with it more than I expected." You hummed curiously, not wanting to disrupt her train of thought but letting her know you wanted her to continue. "Going from being surrounded by up to ninety thousand people, singing and chanting and cheering non-stop, to just... nothing when I got home. Just a cold, empty, silent apartment. The contrast of it troubled me a lot. I worked through it with a psychologist and coped with it better, but it was never perfect."

She paused, adjusting her position so that her hands came to rest under her chin as she looked up at you, that same down-turned smile from earlier returning. Your hands fell to clasp behind her neck, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Then you came around, and now that anxiety doesn't even phase me anymore."

Now, if that wasn't the most heart-warming thing your girlfriend had said so far, you weren't sure what was.

"That makes me so happy, Leah." You whispered, cupping her cheeks with your hands and smiling softly at her.

"One of my favourite things about our relationship is how easy it is for me to switch from Leah Williamson the footballer, to just Leah when I'm around you. Makes coming home after a game much easier."

Shaking your head, you took her hands and urged her to move further up your body so that her head rested against your chest. Wrapping your arms around her, you squeezed her tightly, desperate to convey your love to her in a way words couldn't explain.

"I'll happily welcome 'Just Leah' home all the time."

"Now you're ruining the moment."

#aww this is too cute 🥺#would be the best feeling to make someone feel that comfortable with you #love this!#fic recs #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader

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chaisreading · 5 months

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amae (ii) 𝖼𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 x 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

cairo's actions continue to frustrate you, but when unspoken words are finally said out loud, you understand her.

tags. mdni, +18 only! jumpscare: mr. miller, sexual tension, a bit of angst, jealous cairo, small reader x winnie situation, scisorring, face riding (cairo receiving), language, smut in general, brief softness. | word count. 4619

part 1 . part 2 | masterlist

Apparently, college parties were a bit different in Tennessee, which was a sweet surprise to you. Different from the ones you were used to back in your hometown, this one was hosted at the English professor’s house — you noticed as soon as you opened the front door, a picture of him with his wife near the entrance.

You raised your eyebrows when you bumped into your professor, an apologetic smile on his face.

“I didn't see you there, I'm sorry.” He touched your arm in a weak squeeze before placing his hand back in his pocket, the other holding a red mug.

“It's okay, Mr. Miller. I didn't know you would be here.”

“I always host this reading before the actual party. My wife and I will go on a weekend trip and Winnie asked if she could host a ‘small’ gathering; apparently, the house they usually go to for the party is unavailable. Beatrice left after noon. Smart decision of hers.” You laughed at his expression, knowing damn well it would be anything but small. You could tell by the faces around you that you never saw in any of his classes or readings before. They didn’t exactly fit the ‘tortured-poet’ profile “Are you joining us for the reading? It started a few minutes ago, I just came to the kitchen to get some more coffee. Cairo should start at any moment.”

At the mention of her name, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth and you took a deep breath.

A week had passed since the girl sat on your lap, kissed you, allowed you to touch her and then started acting as if nothing happened. During classes, you could feel her eyes on you, that uncomfortable feeling of being watched taking over your senses every five minutes, as if she was waiting for you to turn around and smile at her.

But you didn't. You avoided her like the plague. As soon as the class ended, you gathered your materials, plugged in your earphones and left without looking back.

Winnie complained a few times about your sudden avoidance of her and Cairo, asking non stop what had happened, if she did something that got you upset, but all you could do was apologize and say you had a lot on your mind with finals and assignments with a short deadline. It wasn't a full lie, but the girl could see the change in your expressions.

And now, all that hard work to avoid the brunette would go downhill as she was waiting a couple steps away from where you were standing, waiting for Mr. Miller's returnal so she could read what she had prepared for tonight.

“Cairo and I aren't in the best place right now, if I'm being honest. I didn't know she would be here.”

“Oh…” The man scratched his chin. “I didn't know that, I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to help, don't hesitate in asking. I know Cairo, she can be… stubborn.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks at the statement. During your first days in Mr. Miller's class, Winnie kept you updated on the strange relationship Cairo had with your now professor; on how starstruck the young writer was at being close to someone she admires and looks up to. It was uncomfortable seeing how close he would be to her, making your stomach twist inside you with anxiety, yet there was nothing you could do as she seemed happy to be noticed by him.

When you asked about this whole situation to Cairo, trying to disguise your reactions, she told you: “he is someone I admire and I know he can help me with my writing. I look forward to our meetings as I have his attention all to myself.” You gave her a small smile that nearly made your eyes shake. Just like now.

You blinked a few times, pursing your lips together.

“We'll be fine.” You decided to answer, not truly believing in that. “But I appreciate the offering, Mr. Miller.”

“Anytime.”

“Does your wife know that soon her house will have drunk people stumbling against the walls?” You asked in an attempt to ease the sudden awkward silence.

“God, no.” He laughed.

“I’ll try to keep the glass decoration in one piece.” Once again his hand rested on your arm for a few seconds in a silent ‘thank you’ before he checked the silvery watch on his wrist.

“The reading is almost finished. Walk with me?”

Unable to deny the request, you simply nodded, walking in front of the professor as he motioned to you.

The second you arrived in the living room, your eyes landed on her like a magnet. It might be because she was standing in the improvised stage by the window, or because of the deadly stare she locked on you when you walked in with Mr. Miller by your side. If she had a laser in her eyes, you'd be a sieve by now with thick blood covering the dark wood floor.

A hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to the corner. Winnie smiled at you, saying she saved you a seat by her side on the couch even though she wasn’t sure you'd be here for the reading. The childish side of yours screamed for you to answer her with: “if I knew she would be here, I wouldn't have come” in a very annoying voice, but you only smiled at her, squirming in the leather couch.

The room was in complete silence, waiting for the girl staring at you to start her reading. Cairo took a deep breath, licking her dry lips to start. The sun was starting to descend on the window behind her, transforming that whole scene into a beautiful portrait that your mind would keep for as long as you could remember.

“And as I witness her most intense intentions through dark eyes, with hands marking mine own peachy skin in a bruising grasp, I fall asunder above her. My body; weak, begging, pleading for her merciless touch as I watch her slam the door shut. The smell of something burning fills the walls, yet it's not the smoke that leaves my lungs, it's the fog that fills as I turn, fated to fall and fated to fail, and wish for her gaze, my resolute resistance scrawled in sand, tumbling through her open hands just as through the neck of our hourglass.

From the high, the grayness takes form; thick, lascivious, dangerous. The unsureness of faith buries words that one day I aim to say. Miserable thing, watching with tearful eyes as she leaves. The tree branches knock on the window, witnessing the whole pitiful scene engraved in my memory.”

You paid attention to every word she enunciated with a strong, determined voice, it felt like she was trying to open your skull and carve each one onto your brain matter. You felt dizzy at them, heart beating fast against your ribcage. While everyone applauded the young writer, you clenched your jaw, swallowing nothing that would help your sudden dry mouth.

Cairo smiled, the type of smile that would make anyone drop to their knees and pray for her. Winnie was excited by your side, the subtle scent of alcohol you smelled on her made you laugh. The girl was loud and, at the moment, when all eyes turned to you two, you regretted sitting by her side. From across the living room, your eyes met hers again, now sat beside Mr. Miller while he whispered something in her ear to which she smiled wide, turning to him.

As another student took over the stage, you couldn’t absorb any words that were said, disappearing into thin air. All you could focus on was Cairo’s hand occasionally touching his forearm when she leaned to say something in his ear, earning a quiet laugh from the professor, the urge to stand up and drag her away from that bothering situation, instead you walked to the kitchen in hopes to find a single drop of alcohol that would make that tension vanish from your body. Soon, Winnie joined you.

“This is so boring, my God!” She whined, sitting up on the kitchen island while eyeing you up and down in the bright light for the first time. “You’re overdressed as usual, I see.”

“Your underwear as usual, I see.” Winnie spread her legs as long as the short leather skirt allowed her to, giving you the high quality view of a lacy underwear as she takes the vodka bottle from your hands, taking a long sip, feeling the burning spreading over her chest with a satisfied hum.

“You like?”

You let out a huff, looking away. “You wish.”

“I will kiss you one day.” She said more to herself than to you, like a secret promise that escaped due to the lack of inhibition — not that she had any, even in her sober moments that word didn't exist in her vocabulary.

Shaking your head at her statement, you pulled the sleeves of your sweater, taking the half empty bottle from her hands and getting ready to prepare yourself a drink that didn’t taste like a slow death.

The reading kept on until the sun was completely set in the horizon, turning the living room into a dark scenario, lit only by the yellowish color from the table lamps. Slowly, the students started leaving while others arrived, walking in the house with bottles and bottles of alcohol, storing them in the kitchen’s fridge.

While you paid attention to the cup in your hands, wondering how long it would take for you to detach from the reality that was drowning you, you felt a bump on your shoulder.

“What is it?”

Winnie signalized with her head, making you look over your shoulder, witnessing Cairo and Mr. Miller talking near the stairwell that would lead to the second floor of the house.

“I think he wants to take her upstairs.”

“She can do whatever she wants, Winnie.” You mumbled, trying not to squeeze the cup in your hand when taking a sip. The bitterness making you frown. “Cairo is a big girl.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?” Turning back to her, your eyebrows sewn together in confusion.

“Because she won’t stop looking at us.” You shrugged, finishing your drink in one long sip. You felt your stomach complain at the big wave of alcohol.

“She can disappear with him for all I care.”

Winnie tilted her head, still looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes. “Oh, so I shouldn’t say they’re going upstairs and she seems pretty excited about it?”

“Yup, not a single thought about it is on my mind right now.” Grabbing the bottle again from her hands, less subtle and emptier than the first time, you poured yourself a very generous sip on your cup, drowsy smiling to Winnie when you handed over the, now completely empty, bottle.

As the minutes went by and the alcohol went in, your control over your senses were slowly losing its grip and you started to worry about Cairo against your will. Controlling the impulse to run upstairs as you weren’t drunk enough to blame on the booze, you shook your head, leaning your body against Winnie’s while the girl talked excitedly to a random boy from the football team, your mind too caught up analyzing the things the young writer said earlier to pay attention to any conversation around you.

The music wasn't loud enough as the professor still hadn't left, but you could feel every beat of it synchronized with the beat of your heart.

Your fingers found the skin of Winnie's thigh, starting to draw random lines out of boredom. Other than the girl, and Cairo, you weren't familiar with the faces that kept on surging from the front door every five minutes.

“If you keep doing that, I'll drag you upstairs too.” Black whispered, making you tilt your chin up at her.

“Maybe you should.”

Winnie was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. From the hazel eyes to the plump lips that looked so attractive at that moment, getting closer and closer, making a tingling feeling crawl over your legs like a spider. You wanted to kiss her, and you would have, if it weren't for the footsteps coming from behind you, making Black pull away. You knew it was Mr. Miller, the strong perfume making your nose burn.

The older man stood in front of you, looking at Winnie who was still seated on the marble island, an innocent glow in her eyes that almost made you laugh, but a hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you away from that situation. All you could hear as you were being dragged to the — now empty — living room was Mr. Miller asking the girl to behave and to not destroy his house or he would fail her. You laughed to yourself.

“Did you seriously allowed Mr. Miller to take me upstairs?” Cairo asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater like a spoiled kid when you refused to look at her, waving at the professor when he turned around to leave, leaving the house and a bunch of teenagers and new-adults unsupervised.

Your eyes were dark and your body a little soft when you stared at her, yet you still were in control of your actions, the drinks just diminished the worry of doing or saying something wrong. At that point, you didn't care about what left your mouth. You wanted to curse the young writer.

“He's our English teacher, not a serial killer.”

“He could've forced me to do something!”

“You seemed pretty excited to go with him. Now, excuse me, I'm gonna find Winnie so we can finish what we were about to start.” Before you could walk past a furious Cairo, her hand, once again, glued to your chest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You blew me off, Cairo. What did you expect? That I would run after you and beg for your attention?"

"Yes!"

You let out a breathy sigh, the corner of your lips up in disbelief. "You really are so self-centered, you don't care about anyone other than yourself. You're a fucking bitch!"

"And you're dying to fuck this self-centered bitch."

"Not after Mr. Miller, thank you." You scolf sarcastically.

"He didn't fuck me, you idiot.” The hand in your chest grabbed the fabric of your sweater, pulling you down to her so she could whisper with lips nearly pressing on yours. “He wasn't you."

Her eyes softened as well as the fist that held you in place, moving it to the back of your head.

Staring at her eyes, you didn't know what to find. You didn't even know what you wanted to find. Maybe a sincere answer.

“Cairo…” You started, sighing against her lips, closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather cohesive words to form a sentence. You blamed the alcohol for this pathetic lack of senses. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to care. I want you to show how desperate you are to have me, how you crave my body in your hands.” You swallowed hard, carefully listening to the whispery confession, the soft motion of her lips grabbing your attention. Once again, you wanted to steal that small freckle from her upper lip. “I want you to burn my skin with your fingers and bruise me with your mouth. And if you really wanted me to be yours, you would've turned around, thrown me on that fucking bed and taken me.” The strong pronunciation of that last part got your body heating up, the urge in your chest spreading in your veins and mixing with the existing alcohol.

“You’re not very clear in your intentions, Cairo. You’re good at saying everything and nothing.”

Taking your hand, the writer pressed it against her chest. She took a deep breath, goosebumps covering her body at the warm feeling of having your hand touching her again.

“Can you feel that?” You nodded, letting your forehead gently fall against hers. “Do you understand now or do I have to draw it for you?”

Suddenly, your brain became fogged and you were getting lost again. You saw dark brown eyes. You felt a strong bumping in your hands. You smelled woody cologne and cinnamon. Yet, you didn't know where to go.

“I want you to draw for me.” You said, desperately trying to find the right path.

Cairo nodded her head, pulling you with her once again, but this time, with her fingers intertwined on yours and more gentle than the first time. You trailed behind, careful to not trip on the stairs as she led the both of you somewhere you didn't know, the lights were off on the second floor, making impossible for you to see anything that wasn't right in front of you.

You heard the sound of a door opening and being locked once closed. The moonlight was invading the room through the open curtains. Blinking a few times to adjust the blurred vision, you felt your body being pushed against a soft mattress and a lightweight on top of you.

“I'll draw it for you.” Cairo whispered, pressing her lips on yours in a chaste kiss. “Do you have any idea of what you do to me?” She asked while kissing down your neck, your hands squeezing her waist over the cotton fabric. You shook your head, licking your dry lips, still tasting her lip balm on them. “Here, let me show it to you.”

Cairo sat on your hips, guiding one of your hands under the white dress, in between her legs. Flashbacks returned and your heart stopped beating for a second while she moved herself on your fingertips, eyes locked on yours, a smirk surging in the darkness. When you moaned at the warmth that embraced your fingers, she did the same.

You breathed out the air that was stuck in your lungs, affected by the scene that unwrapped in front of your eyes. It was a erotic, alluring view, slowly burning itself into your brain like a polaroid. A flash of smile drew on Cairo’s face, satisfied with the reactions coming from you, with the way your eyes stared at her with a dark, flame of desire, lips parted as you struggled to breath.

The cold touch of her rings sent shivers down your spine when her hand wrapped itself around your neck, pressing the sides of it, feeling the pulsating vein under her fingertips. A sob escaping her throat when your fingers easily slipped into her, burying themselves in the warmth of her velvety walls, clenching around you, while the heel of your hand pressed against her swollen clit.

A vile glow shining in the dark brown eyes when she leaned down, squeezing the sides of neck harder as she felt the knot inside her getting tighter. That feeling of desperation growing impatient in her chest.

“Have I lost myself, or have I gained you?” You asked in a soft voice, following a steady pace with your fingers as she moved herself on you. Even when you were the one carrying her in your hands, it was hers that controlled the air in your lungs.

You’ve always seen Cairo as a spoiled girl that grew up in a big house, having all her wishes wrapped in a pretty paper waiting for her on her bed when she came home from school. But now, as she falls apart in your hands, saying your name like a sacred mantra, you saw beyond words and actions, you saw the urge to be held and cared for, like a little girl that didn’t get a hug after they wake up.

Staring at her in awe, you felt tears coming to the brim of your eyes, the squeeze cutting every small space for the air to bring you life, but you didn't care, not when you saw the vision of what heaven must be like; the curly brown hair falling over her right shoulder, the soft strands tickling the skin of your neck as she fell over you, hiding on your chest.

Coming down from her high, Cairo carried a sly smile when she looked at you. Her kiss tasted like ashes, bitter, against your tongue.

“You taste sweet.” The writer whispered in between kisses, sucking your tongue into her mouth over and over, sighing in pleasure at the fingers that slid off of her. Carefully bringing your coated fingers to your mouth, you wrapped your lips around them, being watched with full blown eyes every movement of yours.

“And you taste divine.”

It only took a millisecond for her lips to meet yours once again, the softness of the act long forgotten as she bit your lower lip, tasting the iron in her tongue with a sadistic smile at the painful cry you let out, squeezing her ass in your hands; burning the peachy skin with your fingertips. The words of her writing echoing inside your brain, spreading it on your blood flow.

“I like this sweater, you look charming in dark blue.” Her hand found the collar of it, tip of her fingers tracing the skin underneath, making the fabric itch around your neck. “Take it off.” Despite the sweet tone in her voice, you obeyed the breathy order, pulling it over your head and tossing it somewhere in the unknown bedroom. Cairo stood up, removing the brown leather boots and her own dress, the white lacey set that remained on her body making you gulp.

The writer stood in between your legs, her hands on your hair while yours held her by her waist, goosebumps all over her body as you kissed the toned abs, softly biting the skin.

Cairo looked down at you with curious eyes, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth, admiring the small galaxies your mouth left all over her like she was an empty canvas that needed some color. And you were doing the perfect job, painting an universe on her skin as you knelt down, bringing her underwear along with it. The writer kicked the useless cloth, putting her leg over your shoulder and hooking it behind your head; you salivated at the view of her cunt glistening in front of you.

One of her hands caressed your face with gentleness, her thumb sliding over your bottom lip before she made you open your mouth, pushing her hips closer to your lips. She was dripping on your tongue, the taste of her filling your mouth as you hummed in pleasure, licking what escaped your agape mouth.

The big brown eyes stared at you in flames, burning your skin into a bright scarlet crimson. You nudge your nose closer to her, inhaling the intoxicating smell; everything about Cairo was sweet, from her last name, to her voice that could recite the most beautiful poem by core, to the honey flavor slick that dripped from her aching hole, running down her thighs at the view of you ready to worship her, and when your tongue slid in between her folds in a long, slow lick, her head fell back and a shiver went down her spine.

Pressing your tongue flat over her hardened nub, you closed your eyes, the grip on your hair pulling you impossibly closer. You circled her clit with the tip of your tongue, drawing random patterns with precision on the sensitive nerve, earning yourself a praise that came with a smile when she looked down on you.

Moving your hands up her thigh, you squeezed the muscle, making her ride on your tongue, aggressively and delicious. The sounds escaping your open mouth reverberated all over her sensitive flesh.

Cairo was an exhibitionist, she adored having eyes on her all the time, paying attention to every admirable detail that was attached to her. And having you on your knees praying against her cunt was filthy, enticing and agonizing, that heat wave scorching her insides and melting on your tongue, and you made sure to swallow it with a gratifying smile.

You could suffocate in between her legs and it would be a heavenly death.

Kissing your way up, you brought her body closer, circling her waist as she hooked both legs around you, sliding her tongue over your shiny lips before you dropped her on the bed. Cairo was about to complain at the lack of care, but she soon shut her mouth, watching you kick your converse to the side and unbuttoning the tailored pants that hugged your curves in the right places.

Taking a deep breath, you slid the fabric down, taking your underwear with you, the shyness taking over you once you were free from any cloth covering your body; all this being watched with lustful eyes.

The young writer’s eyes pierced your soul, engraving in her brain every mole you had around your shoulders, silently choosing her favorite one to add to the list of small details of your body she loved and kept fresh in her memories, always making sure to add ‘em in her writing. It amazes her how you never noticed the importance you had in her work, you were her muse.

“Come to me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice, at the sound of her sweet voice your feet led your body closer to hers, moving according to her words, your knees sinking in the mattress only to find balance on top of her. Her hands on your back brought you closer and you fell, once again, into that piquant feeling where it felt like you were about to drown, but her lips on your neck got you breathing in fervor.

It was easy for the brunette to take control, reversing positions and sitting atop your abdomen, gripping one of your legs and casting one of hers in between them, fitting herself against you.

“Fuck, Cairo.” You mewl, closing your eyes at the aggressive way she pressed herself down, easily gliding on you. One of your hands found her thigh, squeezing the flesh until it blemished under your fingertips, moving your hips according to the pace she set. It was cruel, desperate, the dark brown eyes fluttering closed.

The bed slammed against the wall, the old wood-frame fated to snap at any moment; you didn’t care, it was impossible to focus on anything that wasn’t the girl in between your legs, rubbing herself on you with an inner desire to split you in half. You dazed at her, the angelical aura surrounding her like an armor, preventing the sins from escaping the walls of the still unknown bedroom like the squelching noises were, the lewd sounds from the both of you echoing around the hallway for anyone that dared to come closer and press their ears against the locked door.

When the impetuous climax hit you like a jolt of electricity spreading in your veins, Cairo fell on top of you, exhaustion taking over her senses as well as the tired muscles complaining from all the spasms.

The writer looked at you, tearful eyes as you soothed her bare back with an equally pleasured expression. Your bodies were weak, relying on each other at such a delicate and overwhelming moment, marked in black and blue by your hands and mouth, a greedy memory that will last. And if it ever vanishes, like the galaxies made out of bruises, all you needed to do is knock on her window.

#this is art #thank you for blessing us with your writing #because this is the holy grail #your writing is absolutely beautiful #you definitely drew for us

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