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wosofutbolfan · 8 months ago

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I Would Climb Every Mountain With You

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

14K of fluff and fun

For those interested this is the song that played in my head throughout the inception of this one;

You shoved the last of your gear into your duffel, relishing in the zipping sound that pierced the silence of your sparsely occupied apartment.

This was a quick turn around, even for you.

You were back for your nans 82nd birthday which was in a few days and to catch up with your friends and family.

You’d barely been back on UK soil for 18 hours, in your Cumbria flat for only 15, when you got a call offering you a trip as a tour guide in the Pirineus Aragonese, otherwise known as the Spanish Pyrenees, for 3 nights.

Usually you’d ignore such a request at this point in your career but for a 3 day trip there were more 0’s than you would expect on the pay packet. Too many to refuse.

You were one of the best in the business, so trampling around the low level bases of a fairley commercial mountain range was a bit novice for you.

These days you find yourself in the thin air over 6000 meters, or in a remote rainforest, or trekking through the Sahara, guiding millionaire white men who made the move from being armchair adventurers to have-a-go adventurers in the very safe manner which your expertise offered.

You did it because those IT consultants, those bankers, those surgeons, paid well.

Very well.

Well enough to fund your explorations.

To go to those heights that really drove you. 8000 metres. The death zone. Where the air was so thin you couldn't stay long or your brain would lose oxygen.

Or the amazon, making contact with a tribe to warn them of encroaching foresters.

Or to the arctic. To witness the last of the planet untouched by man.

As you shut the door behind yourself, barely even checking it locked. Fuck. You thought, as you downloaded the boarding pass sent to you.

Your mum was going to kill you.

But god. You loved the outdoors.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate the outdoors!”

Alexia growled smacking a hand against her forearm, trying in vain to swat the midgie which was trying to make her blood its next meal. She hated the high pitched zoom that travelled past her ear as it moved back through the mini bus to try and find a more peaceful meal out of one of her teammates.

“We know Ale…” a tired voice from next to her groaned “you’ve mentioned it once, twice. Maybe a thousand times.” Mapi rolled her head off of her girlfriend's shoulder where she had been in a light doze. Interrupted by her captain's loud complaints.

“I’m just saying.” Alexia continued to grumble “I don’t know why Jona is making us do this. Team Bonding? We are a very bonded team already! I make you all pancakes on sundays!”

Mapi rolled her eyes at the blondes protests. She’d heard all of this before since Jona had announced the 3 day team bonding trip at the start of pre season. She could recite Alexia's complaints by heart.

“I’m excited.” She shrugs, eyes cast over her girlfriend who had moved to nuzzle into her side.

“Traidora” The captain replies, eyes gazing out of the fast moving countryside out of the window. She felt worse and worse the more they moved away from the city into the endless empty space around her. She could feel civilization leaving her grasp as the bars of signal went down on her phone. “You’ve been brainwashed by your nordic girlfriend.” She lets out simply. Ignoring Mapis' offended scoff and dodging the light slap sent her way.

“Behave Maria.” A tired voice let out, without opening their eyes. Like a school child who had been told off, the tiny defender backs down and settles back into her girlfriend's shoulder. And if Alexia sticks her tongue out at her like a toddler then well. Who can provide it?

“God” she thought to herself as she settled her head back against the vibrating glass, starting a mental countdown of when she would return to her city center apartment “I hate the outdoors.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I probably should buy new walking boots.” You thought to yourself as you clambered out of the minibus which dropped you and your small team at the muster point. Your boots fit like a glove but they did look a little worse for wear. All scratched and battered. The green laces prominent against the dark brown leather.

Who are you kidding? You knew you would never buy new boots.

You could still make out the scratch deep in the leather where you hooked your foot behind a rock as you careered down a shale summit when you were still a novice. A mark against the toe protection where a dog in the Andes got a bit too friendly and attacked your foot. Nah. These boots were the closest friend you had.

A rumble of a car cut against the silence of the mountains around you and you could just make up another mini bus trudging up the mountain pass from the elevation you stood at. You had a few minutes before the clients arrived.

“Who ‘av we got then?” you asked and you turned to face Rio, your long-time guiding partner when you were in this part of the world.

Full name Mario he was a kind man in his 40’s who lived for bad 80s music and loved his kids more than you thought any human was capable of love.

“I am unsure, Mi Amiga. I just got the paperwork that told me it was a team of 23 ladies. They assured the operator we have no fitness issues. They have translators in the group, multiple languages so we're best sticking with English. I have all the health forms here, everything looks good. Some dietary requirements but nothing we can’t handle”

Huh. A weird group. 23 fit women with translators in the group? Weird.

“Women. Rio. We prefer the term women.” you gibe him, “Urght. 23 women is a lot. I hope it isn’t a hen party. Penis straws aren’t my thing, if you know what I mean.” you knock your elbow into his ribs and let out a cackle.

You were very very gay. A fact that wasn’t lost on Mario as he had unfortunately been witness to more than a few hook ups after expeditions over the years.

“Si, I know what you mean, that rock over there knows what you mean, tu idiota.” he replied, rolling his eyes and moving to help the team with the checklist of essentials.

Your knee deep in gas canisters and spare tent pegs by the time the mini bus holding the clients arrives.

You untangle yourself with a sheepish smile to Rio as you move to meet the van and he moves to tidy your mess. He’s the practical guy. You’re the nice guy. It's your job to go and meet the clients and explain the expedition and answer any questions.

“Hol… Holy shit.” you start. What you intended to be a lively welcome in your best spanish quickly got lost on your tongue with each woman who exited the van.

Fucking hell. These women were gorgeous.

Specifically the last women to emerge from the van. All blonde hair and hazel eyes.

And tattoos.

And fit.

And tall.

And. Not to be a dick about it. Very gay.

You shake yourself out of it. Come on. Be professional. Stop being a gross guy. You scold yourself.

You turn to Rio who’s finishing up with all the kit who laughs at your expression; “Not a hen party then?”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“... so on day two we will reach the gorge, follow the treeline across the ridge, through the forest finding some good places to camp and then finally end in Arén. Where your bus will meet you and take you back to Barcelona. Is that good?”

The group lets out a murmur of agreement and an enthusiastic “Fantastic!” is heard above everyone else and Alexia rolls her eyes.

“Mapi, you really need to control your girlfriend. If you're not careful she's going to run away into the wilderness.” she mutters to her best friend.

“Shut up Ale.” Mapi hisses back, but it isn’t missed by Alexia how Mapi slowly inches herself closer to her girlfriend and hooks her fingers through the waist strap of her backpack, as though physically stopping her from leaving her, renaming herself Hedi and living the rest of her days in the mountains.

Alexia lets out a scoff of laughter, which was louder than she intended.

“There, at the back. A question?”

Suddenly Alexia finds the eyes of the team watching her, most with a glint in their eyes as they were all victims to her complaining over the last few weeks.

Listen. She's not bothered she has 22 sets of eyes on her.

She's used to it. Especially these eyes. She's their captain.

That's not what causes her mouth to dry up and her pulse to race.

No. That's you.

For the first time since getting out of the van Alexia looks up and sees your gaze directed straight at her. Holy shit. You were the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

And she had seen a lot of women.

But you, standing there in your khaki shorts, simple vest top, hair tied up and a bandana and dirty old boots took her breath away.

You gave off an aura of cool. Dark raybans perched on your face and muscles rippling against a backpack bigger than you.

You were the coolest woman she had ever seen.

“Sorry, the paperwork said everyone would understand English, or had access to a translator. That's my fault. Can someone translate? Or I can spe-”

A ripple of laughter goes through the group but its Mapis cough and small kick that pulls Alexia out of her stupor.

“Vaya, I understand, lo siento, no. No questions here. Just. So excited to get going! Vamos Amigas!” Alexia cheerfully ended, ignoring her teammates' confused faces at her complete 180 as she hoisted her backpack on and threw you her most dashing smile.

Maybe she could make something out of this weekend after all.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You threw a smile past 3 of your group on the trail as you made your way down the mountain.

“Hola chica’s” you let out cheekily, throwing a wink at the three, who had quickly become your favourites.

You loved love and you could see how much the small brunette you learned was Mapi hung onto every action of her girlfriend. Ingrid's enthusiasm was one you shared, born of a childhood spent outside and Alexia.

Well.

Alexia was a mystery. Quick to smile and eager to please but there was something there. So confident and yet you could make out the blush on her cheeks at your innocent wink.

And god. Was she gorgeous. Chiselled and…stay professional!

They made a very likable trio and you had been spending most of your hike with them so far but you had to share the love and you left them behind a few miles ago to go scout out the front of the pack.

This was how you and Mario worked. You would take it in turns to be at the front and the back of the group - keeping everyone together and pacing everyone so they remained in a close-enough group to manage safely whilst not hampering or rushing anyone.

You’ve got to admit.

These girls were fit.

Even you found it difficult to keep up.

Though, to be fair you had to hike double with the overlapping on the hillside and your pack that weighed about 6 extra stone.

Still, you wouldn’t swap this job for the world. You thought to yourself as you spied the last team member a few metres down the mountain you halted and waited for them to reach you. Feigning that you were just taking in the view so that they didn’t feel bad about being at the back.

Someone has to be.

“Don’t worry about it” you let out easily at Pina and Patris apologies, “You guys are doing it the right way. Take in the view! We’re hours ahead of schedule”.

And you were. These girls really were athletic. You really should find out what the hell they do for a living.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Capi, what are you doing now?” Mapi grumbled as Alexia came to a stop.

She tosses her bag down and rummages through it, picking out a small bottle and spraying herself quickly before hiding it away.

“Vamos Mapi, you go up. I’m just… taking a moment.”

“No problem Alexia, we can wait with you. Is it your knee? Are you okay?” Ingrid's kind voice asked, her brows furrowed in concern for her captain.

“Si Si I am good it’s just…”

“Ah! I know!” Mapi exclaimed “the sudden buen humor. The changes in pace. I can’t believe it! Capi has a crush! With the mountain boss lady! Wait… is that perfu…”

Mapi is quickly silenced by Alexia's large hand covering her mouth as the captain looks down the mountainside in concern. You’ve passed them and are out of view and she hopes out of earshot.

“Callate idiota” she hisses “Ew!” She pulls her hand away and wipes it on her shorts whilst Mapi grins cheerfully, her tongue safely back in her mouth.

“I do not! It is good to feel nice, that's all. I am just taking a moment. Please. Ingrid. Take her away before I push her down the mountain.”

Alexia pleads to the Norwegian, who is more than happy to grab her girlfriend's hand and continue the best weekend of her life, explaining all about the different types of trees they would see as Mapi hangs on her every word.

Alexia isn’t alone for long until she hears your peel of laughter as you round the corner with the two meneces that were Patri and Pina.

You say something that makes Patri laugh and she shoves you playfully to one side which makes Alexia's heart jump into her throat.

“Ay! Idiota! Do not push her! She could slip!”

She takes your bark of a laugh and the soft look you give her happily, embracing the warm feeling that it makes in her chest.

“Sorry Capi.” Patri mocks, saluting with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Alright. That's it. What the hell do you guys do? You’re all mega fit, speak about 15 different languages and now you’re introducing this insane leadership structure. Is this some sort of new-age google thing?” you ask, incredulously, hands on your hips and question in your eyes.

There's a moment of silence and then all three of them burst into laughter at the same time.

“What? What did I say?” you ask. “What do you think we do jefa de montana?” Pina asks, as you all continue your hike upwards.

“I don’t know… really rich estate agents?” you ask, prompting more laughter from the group. “Erm… oh! I know! You’re all personal trainers in old folks homes but you’re taking it really, really seriously? OH! I know” You’re all spies!” you exclaim, just to hear Alexias laugh again. Which you are rewarded with.

“No tonta. We are all footballers. We are the Barcelona Femini first team!” Alexia lets out, arms wide, all three of them pausing with expectant looks on their faces in your direction.

“Ah. Makes sense. Cool.” you let out, smile their way and continue leading them up the mountain.

You sense you’re walking alone all of a sudden and turn to see all three of them standing like fishes, mouths open staring incredulously at you.

“What? What's wrong?” you call down.

“Footballers, you strange mountain woman! It’s more than cool! We’re the best in the world!” Patri lets out, incredulously.

It’s your turn to bark out a laugh. “Ha! Sorry chicas, I promise I will be suitably impressed once we reach camp” you wink as you all continue upwards, a peaceful silence settling over the three of you.

“I’m more of a rugby person anyway.” you break the silence.

A moment of pregnant pause.

“Push her off the mountain Patri.” Alexia orders, jovially. “On it Cap!”

You cackle as you run away from the three chasing footballers and the only thought that is running through your head is, ‘God, Alexia smells good.’

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ella es tan bonita” Alexia mutters to herself, as she watches you from across the clearing, after helpfully dumping herself outside of Ingrid and Mapis tent as Ingrid sets the whole thing up as well as going behind Mapi and re-clipping all of the clips and double checking all the poles, whilst ensuring Mapi doesn't see her.

“Ay, Capi. Stop creeping and come help. Or set up your tent, you need somewhere to sleep.” “I will, I will” Mapi takes a seat next to her captain who doesn't look like she's moving from her perch anytime soon.

“So, you’re in love, si?”

“Si…” Alexia lets out dreamily, “Wait. No! Shut up, I didn't say that.”

Mapi opens her mouth, ready to tease the hell out of her captain before… “We heard nothing Ale, don’t worry” Ingrid lets out from inside the tent. Mapis' mouth closes with a small frown at the idea of her teasing ammo being taken away from her.

“She is so cool though.” Alexia continues, “You know, she’s been to the arctic three times? And climbed 4 of the worlds highest summits. 4 of them? One on her own!”

“We know Ale,” Ingird responded, kindly, appearing from the tent “You’ve told us a dozen times. Come on. Let’s see if she needs help with anything.”

Alexia moves as though she’s just intercepted a stray pass in front of goal.

Rapid.

You stand, ignoring the aching in your back as you put the finishing touches onto the makeshift fire pit.

You’d spent the last hour scouting and setting up camp for the group. Mario was off helping some of the girls set up their tents for the night.

You both preferred the ease of a hammock slung between two trees with a mosquito net being the only thing between you and the stars. That meant you were both able to carry more provisions for the group and set up your camps quickly before moving on to help the clients.

“Do you need any help at all?” you hear accented english, you turn and Ingrid offers you a kind smile. “No, no you’re good guys, make yourselves at home.” you gesture to the logs that had been moved into a semi circle around the firepit. Logs collected by Mario waiting for the night to arrive.

You're on your knees setting some water to boil as you hear an annoyed grumble and a slap of skin “mierda!”. You turn on your knees and find yourself faced with Alexia, sitting on a log near you losing a one woman battle against a thousand midges.

“You must taste nice.” It takes you a minute of the blonde blushing and red face to realise what you’ve said. You stand and move to sit next to her “No! No sorry I didn’t mean�� I mean…” you take a deep breath and…. “You smell nice.”

Mapis' bark of laughter makes you roll your eyes good naturedly, the blonde next to you still looking at you somewhat star struck.

“No really Alexia…” you move closer and breathe the blonde in, she smells sweet, floral…. Stay professional!

“That’s why they’re attracted to you. Your smell, and…” you move slowly, gently and take her arm in yours… “some people just react to the bites more, this looks like it could become sore.” you brush over a large, reddening bite on her inner arm.

Alexia, meanwhile, is acting as though your touch isn’t setting her blood on fire. She’s apparently chosen to hide this by just staring at you, wide eyed. Another midgey lands on her skin and you feel her arm tense in your grasp as she moves to swat it but you hold firm.

“Ey ey, there's more of them than you and we’re in their territory. Take only pictures, leave only footprints and kill…”

“Nothing but time!” Ingrid jumps in, excitedly, “Yes Ing, that's the one” you reply, as Ingrid sits proudly. “Mascota del maestro.” Mapi teases her.

You move your attention back to Alexia, “Ale, you should go and wash off, there will be a stream over there, looking at the treeline and the game track marks. It’ll take the sweetness from your skin. It will help, I have some antihistamine you should take when you get back and I'm sure I smelt some wild garlic growing just as we entered the clearing. It acts as a repellent, I will go forage some and add it to your meal tonight. It will help for the rest of the trip.”

“No, I’ll be fi….” you move to stand, gathering your wilderness knife and attaching it to your hip. “I wasn’t asking Alexia. I’m in charge here, Captain. I know what I’m doing, now go. Please”

Alexia isn’t told what to do often.

Yes she has a coach and she has trainers but she is the captain.

The expert.

But your kind and gentle nature just became firm in front of her eyes. This was your world and it was clear you knew what you were doing in it. She felt like a puppet as she stood obediently and made her way to the stream.

As she stood there, in only her underwear in the cold water, listening to the distant laughter of her teammates and overlooking the most beautiful blue-green water of the gorge beneath the mountain side. She kind of understood this whole outdoorsy thing. It was peaceful, she could hear her thoughts. Alexia was never alone. There was always someone fighting for her attention, needing something from her.

But here, she felt like her mind had gone quiet. And she could think. And breathe.

She was feeling somewhat light and philosophical by the time she made it back to the firepit.

You look up from your pan and see the silhouette of the tall Barcelona captain making their way over. She looks lighter somehow. Hair hanging limp softens her features and her face is bare, making her look somehow more beautiful. You shake yourself out of your thoughts and start to plate up the meal for everyone.

You feel Mario next to you; “Ay, smells goods, some of your best work Mi Amiga.” He mutters to you, shoving your shoulder gently, “ooh we’ve got fancy with the spices, si? Someone to impress” he obnoxiously wiggles his eyebrows at you and you very maturely, in your opinion, ignore his teasing in order to stir some sauteed garlic through one of the bowls. “Go give that to your apalastar. I’ll hand out the rest” he orders.

“I don’t have a crush” you hiss, even as you gather two bowls and make your way over to the blonde. Alexai looks up as you stand above her, seemingly having interrupted her thoughts. You offer a smile as you pass her a steaming metal bowl.

“Chicken and rice” you state, as you take a seat next to her, “with extra garlic, as promised” you smile as you start to shovel food into your mouth.

You take a moment with your eyes closed like you do before every meal before tucking in. Mario tells you that you eat like a wild dog who’s just found an open trash can, you don’t care, you love your food, especially after a long hike day cooked over an open fire.

“How do you know these things?” Alexia asks. You make the universal noise of; ‘huh’? And eye her curiously. “The garlic. The stream. How do you know?”

“Ah, it’s my life.” you reply, “I grew up in rural England. Me and my brother would go for hikes for days at a time. Not much else to do. I learnt how to read the land. You get used to it…” a beat of silence, “the solution is always around.”

Now it's Alexia's turn to let out a confused grunt, around a mouthful of chicken.

“In nature. Nature always provides what you need. If it creates a problem, it will create a solution. That's why I love it so much. Sunburn? Mud is the best sunscreen money can’t buy. Stuck in a monsoon? You’ll be saved by a cave to shelter in that's carved by the same weather that's trying to kill you. Mosquitos making you their next meal? Garlic will grow and act as a repellent. You just need to learn to read the signs. That's why I love it so much.”

Alexia grows quiet, and you can’t quite place the look she's giving you.

It’s open, and you feel maybe you shared too much so revert back to what you know. As you scrape the metal bowl clean you pull out a blister pack and present them to the footballer. “Sometimes, though, the answer is in a pharmacy in Perpignan” you grin cheekily and enjoy the blondes blush and laugh as she pops an antihistamine and swallows it.

You root into your pocket and pull out some bite cream.

“May I?” you gesture towards her arm as you see she has finished her meal. She nods and presents you with her arm where an angry looking lump had formed. You grunt in sympathy as you carefully apply the cream. Making soothing motions with your thumb making sure the cream is absorbed fully.

You struggle to remain professional with the blondes soft skin under your hands. And you struggle to pull them away. You don’t know what comes over you as you gently blow on the bite to sooth it. You don’t think you’re alone in your feelings as you hear a sharp intake of breath from the blonde, and feel goosebumps rise under your fingertips.

“I’m sorry, It helps to cool the area, it’s feeling a little hot” as you pull your hands away.

Alexia seems to be in a daze but you catch her eye as she lets out “eres tan caliente”. It’s quiet, under her breath and you see her eyes widen as she realises she's spoken aloud. “Pardon?” you ask, just to make sure you heard her.

“Oh sorry, nada, nothing. Thank you for your help. It feels better already. You’re really good at this.”

You smile at her happily, a proud buzz in your stomach at making her feel better, you're interrupted from any reply by Mario shouting your name across the fire pit. And that's when you realise you have 22 other clients all around, and you had kind of left your colleague to deal with them all.

Which makes it easier for him to convince you to fulfil his request. He always does this. And he knows you hate it. As he shakes the ukulele he’s carried up a frigging mountain at you. You can’t really deny him.

“Come on chica! Show the girls what you can do!”, you take it from him as you roll your eyes good naturedly as you settle back down, closer, somehow to Alexia, you can feel your thigh touch hers as you try to pretend that is isn't setting your world on fire.

Alexia pretends that she can’t see Mapis' eyes light up and eyebrows wiggle at her from across the campfire.

As the stars start to make an appearance you serenade the group with campfire songs you grew up on, some songs that Mario sings along with you, you strum as Mapi excitingly dances around the campfire and you continue into the night as your fingers start to ache. Lucy even teaches you the Barcelona anthem, which you murder, but it's worth it to see the laugh in Alexia's eyes.

You don’t mind making a fool of yourself if that's your result.

You feel the blonde slump more into you as the night goes on, and you feel the tension between you both increase. However, when you look across to catch her eyes you see that she's practically asleep as she sits.

“Hey, Ale” you mutter as Pina takes a turn on your ukulele, rousing her from her light sleep, “come on, the tablets can make you drowsy. You need to get to sleep.”

“Oh, no. But I don’t want to miss anything.” she mutters, cutely, you don’t think she’d be so open unless she was completely exhausted. “And I need to set my tent up.”

“Don’t worry, I set it up for you when you were in the stream.” you respond, easily, and there's that look again, the one that puts your stomach into knots and makes you unsure of what you’ve said, so you continue, “It’s next to Mapi and Ingrids. I thought you’d want their protection from the bears.”

“Bears?!” she exclaims, which brings everyone's attention to the both of you, 23 worried looking footballers now looking in your direction as you bark out a laugh.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” you respond, to all of them, hands raised as a sign of peace. They settle down… “well actually I’m not, but what did you think the singing was for!”

Mario is the only one that snorts out a laugh.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia wakes up hot.

And thirsty.

She opens her eyes and takes a moment to remember herself and where she is. But as she hears the light chatter and banging of pans outside it comes back to her.

Last night, sitting around the firepit by your side, one she had gotten over how hot the vision of you playing the instrument was, she was being lulled into a drowsy state by your gentle singing, the stars shining above and the warmth of your body by her side.

She remembers your hands on her skin, causing goosebumps and her stomach to flutter, somehow those hands in the middle of a literal mountain range made her feel more safe than the most experienced medical professional in the most high-tech sports facilities ever could.

She remembers finding her tent from where you had set it up. Citronella candle burning outside keeping the bugs away, everything zipped up safely, and then seeing how you had set the inside up.

Sleeping bag open and inviting, all her bags set neatly, essentials on top of her bag, hiking boots sitting on pegs she definitely did not bring to air them and stop any creepies crawling into them. Water next to her cot.

God. She was in trouble.

As she crawled into the porch area she found a small metal bowl with what looked like a cut up cactus in it, goop oozing from it. She picked the bowl up and made her way over to her best friends, who were tucking into a breakfast of granola and fruits out of similar bowls to that in her hand.

“Hey, Ingrid. Nature lover. What's this?” She holds the bowl up with a curious eyebrow.

“I think you mean Hola Ingrid, How are you this morning?” Mapi grumbles, whilst her girlfriend rubs her knee and shushes her kindly, Alexia looks at her expectantly.

She takes the bowl and a smile overtakes her face, “This is Aloe, Ale.” “Aloe Ale? Are you making fun of me?” Ingrid smiles again, “No, Ale, it's Aloe Vera, it's the gel from the Aloe Vera plant. It's got healing properties and… good for sunburn, reducing irritation and swelling, some may say good for insect bites?”

“Oh, well thank you then Ingrid, that's really kind.” Alexia hums, happily.

“Ale. I love you, but I didn’t collect this.” Ingrid smiles, Mapi looks on in glee and not-at-all subtly points in your direction.

“It was the jefa de montana!” She whisper-shouts, “I woke up early and saw her coming back with that cool knife of hers… Hey… Ingri…?”

“No Maria. You cannot have a knife.” Ingrid lets out, not looking away from her breakfast.

Alexis misses Mapis' sulk, as well as the loving bickering between her two best friends, because she is distracted by you, sitting across the camp entertaining Jana and Vicky. Seemingly a boundless source of energy and knowledge. You must feel someone's eyes on you because you look up and it feels like you look directly into Alexia's soul.

She holds the bowl up with a shy smile and mouths thank you, and she re-iterates to herself how well as truely fucked she is as as you send a wink her way which makes her knees weak.

“Oh estoy jodida”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You smile as you waved the girls off from camp, it being your turn to stay behind and finish packing up the provisions and bringing up the rear of the group. With Mario leading the charge down into the gorge where you would make camp tonight.

It was your favourite day of the trek today, and you were excited about the girls reaction to the camp set up this evening. You expect that you would get there earlier than expected with these super-fit professional athletes, which would give you all more time to explore the lake. You found yourself looking forward to a certain blonde's face as she took in the view, the mountain above reflecting into the water.

It really was beautiful.

You knew yourself very well. That's the thing about being an explorer. You have to know yourself, you spend a lot of time alone and with your thoughts. You need to know your limits. Assess your feelings. Is this the half-way mark of my endurance? Do I need to turn around now? It was important for survival.

And with everything you've done you're not sure you’ll survive the next two days with Alexia Putellas.

You found her disarming. She was stoic but kind. She was serious but hilarious. Strong but vulnerable. She was stern but looked at you so softly it made your heart melt.

She was a woman of contradictions in the best way.

And you wanted to wrap your arms around her and keep her safe. Yeah, it was your job to keep everyone on this trip safe. But it wasn't your job that made you trek back 2 miles this morning to harvest the Aloe you saw yesterday. Or take an extra 20 minutes to set her tent up making sure she had everything that she didn't know she needed.

You knew why you did it, but you don’t think you were ready to be that honest with yourself yet.

You finished packing up camp and making sure there was no trace of your group and then continued along the trail. You thought you had a few hours before you encountered any of the famous fucking footballers you were guiding on account of most of them all being fucking olympians, but it hadn’t been more than 90 minutes before you spotted the same person who was clouding all of your thoughts.

“Hola Capi!” you shouted down the trail below you, you didn’t want to spook her and get to close as she looked lost in her thoughts, gazing down to the lake below.

“Ah, Hola Jefa de montaña” a smile overtaking her features. “I didn't expect you to be at the back, Capi” you tease, nudging her and continuing along at her side, “the young’uns making you feel old?”

There's that laugh again. The one that seems to fill a hole in your heart.

“no por supuesto que no, solo soy….” she trails off as you look at her curiously.

“Ah, lo siento, you don’t speak spanish, I’m just taking my time, enjoying the view, no rush, si?” she asks you, completely misinterpreting your look. You go to correct her but she speaks before you have a chance,

“So, where's your favourite exploration been?” and if there's anything that you can yap on about. It's your adventures.

Alexia loves the way your face lights up, loves the way that your whole body thrums with excitement. The way you describe the sights, sounds, smells of your travels. Her heart drops when you tell tall tales of alligator attacks in the south american swamps, her laughter bubbles as you tell her about accidental orders of bizarre and unusual foods in china, she blushes as you describe being run out a village in mongolia for sleeping with the mayor's wife (completely accidental of course).

You tell a story with your whole body, arms flailing and actions where appropriate. The time flies and the environment around Alexia is lost to the beauty she finds in your excitement.

You finally pause for breath and the silence makes you realise how long you have been speaking for.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I haven't stopped talking - ple…”

“Do not apologise” Alexia interrupts, “I like to hear you speak, your stories are so…” she struggles to find the word and takes a moment “...colourful. And exciting.” she snaps her fingers, happy with herself.

“Exciting, me? Maybe. You though. Football, huh? That must be amazing. Free to travel the world… all of your adoring fans, huh?” you wiggle your brows and nudge her again, but her coy smile doesn’t appear like you expected it to.

She grows quiet, hand playing with the long grass as you both stroll by.

“Ah. Maybe. I thought so, but now… I’m thinking, maybe I am not so free?” she poses it as a question, and eyes lift to your face, and then her surroundings.

“I love football. Football is my life. But the other things… ah. I don’t know. Sometimes I wish I could walk down to mi Mamis without wearing a cap, or a hood. Just… go. You know?”

You do know. You couldn’t imagine such restrictions. Your spirit is a free one. And Alexia seems caged. Caged and wanting to break free.

“I get it, Ale.” your use of her name brings a blush to her face. And a smile you want to keep there. “Tell me about football.” you request, simply.

“What about it? It is the most beautiful game in the world! You are English, a good football nation, it’s coming home? No?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you do. “I’m from the countryside. Football is played in cities. I cannot think of any football team not named after a City.”

“Football is played everywhere! It's the game of the Earth”

“Is it?” you ask, “tell me.” you request again.

And off she goes, she tells you how she loves her team, the fans, Barca, how the game brought her close to her father and she feels closer to him as she continues to play. You enjoy the excitement in her voice as she makes you both stop as she uses a stick to explain the offside rule. You force a cereal bar into her hand and make sure you both drink water as you go. Seamlessly, as she continues to talk about her life's passion.

Before you know it you notice the placement of the sun and realise you have nearly completed the miles for the day. You are shocked that you haven’t run into any of her teammates, though you suppose, you have both been walking slower as you chatted.

Though, that does mean you have left Mario with 23 clients. Fuck you owe him.

“The way you talk about it, It does sound like a beautiful game, capi.” you summarise, as she finishes telling you about the football camps for underprivileged kids she visits.

She pauses and looks into your face. The moment grows less jovial than the whole day had been and you hear Alexia whisper, “Eres hermosa”. “Huh?” you let out, surprised. “Oh, da nada, nothing. Sorry, I don’t usually speak too much English…”

“Ah, Capi!” you hear a third voice, raised across the clearing you had just entered, a canopy of trees above and now you are at the lake shore.

You are both shaken out of your trances as you realise you have made camp, and by the looks of it, the rest of the group had been here for a while. God, you really did owe Mario.

“Ah, chica!” you hear Marios best as he makes his way towards you, “you left me! These girls, they are loco!” you laugh as you see the sweat beading across his brow and his face still red, “the walk and walk and walk, they walk so quick!”

Jana now makes her way over, taking Alexias backpack from her shoulders,

“We walk quickly because Capi told us whoever won she would give first dibs on shower privileges all seaso….” Jana is silenced by Alexia, who shoves her hand over her mouth. “Ay, Jana, she’s an iditoto, doesn’t know what she's talking about, Si. Vamos, Jana. You can help me set my tent up.”

Jana is practically dragged away as you focus your attention again on Mario.

“lo siento mi amigo,” you tell him, “I didn’t mean to.. I think I just got carried away…” you eyes follow the tall blonde as she makes her way across camp, Jana having abandoned her on route.

“Da nada my friend. I have not seen you like this before…” he smiles at you. “I think she is good for you.”

“Oh stop Mario. You know me. I can’t.”

“You won’t. That is different to you can’t. And I notice you do not deny, now, vamos, help me anti-bear this place.”

Your next hour is spent helping Mario set up camp, you're close to a huge water source now, and whilst bears will only come looking for food you need to take extra steps to not spook your clients, you keep the provisions away from camp, high in trees, you sprinkle ash from the fire around and you place dry leaves and twigs around, you and Mario are light sleepers, any visitor to camp will make you up.

Alexia has been abandoned by her team. “Team building, sure… you all have fun guys, I’ll be here…” she mumbles to herself as she struggles to feed the poles of her tent through the holes in the canvas. She takes a look up and sees you, lifting logs for the fire. All short, shorts and rippling muscles. Those same damn old boots on your feet so sexily rugged.

She gets lost in her thoughts, images swimming around her mind of making you sweat for different reasons, imagining being stood above you as you drop to your knees in front of her as she gathers your hair in her hand….

“Do you need me to help you with your pole?” you ask. SNAP. Huh? Alexia looks up from the daydream she had embarrassingly got lost in. Ignoring the heat between her legs. She looks up, flustered.

“Q..Que?” she asks you, she looks down and sees the metal pole she was trying to thread through in two pieces in her hands.

“Oh… oops.” she continues. “Oh Ale… that's the centerframe pole. That's keeping the roof over your head. I can try to patch it up with some twine… but I’m not sure it will hold.” you tell her, examining the two pieces in her hands.

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t know what happened there.” Alexia tries to distract to get out of this awkward situation. “No problem, I will share it with Ingrid and Mapi. They won’t mind.”

You cast your eyes over to where Ingrid was walking into the lake in a two piece swimsuit, Mapi watching from the fire and almost setting her boot on fire as she paid no attention to her surroundings. You think they may mind.

“Okay Ale.” she knows her friends better than you, you suppose. “Now come, come look at this view.”

You lead her to the lakeside where most of the girls were settled, and you explain to the group some of the geography of how the gorge and lake was formed. And, to be fair to them, most of them did pretend to care. But you could tell they were just dying to jump in.

“Go on then Chicas! A few hours til dinner. Go have fun!”

The cheer that the group let out made you laugh, so did watching them as they scrambled over each other in the water as you and Mario made dinner. Lucy having produced a small ball from somewhere they all start to play in the water. Somehow, you felt like you were all of a sudden guiding 12 year old boys.

You could make Ale out, in the middle of the fray, contemplative nature fully unleashed as she laughed and played around with her teammates. You loved seeing her so free and open. Especially after your chat today.

You find yourself at the campfire again, plating up dinner for the group and you see an open space next to Alexia.

You make your way over but before you get there the seat is taken by Vicky, you miss the scowl that takes over Ales face as she slaps the back of her younger teammate's head.

“That space was being saved!” she sulks, watching as you change direction and settle yourself next to Lucy. Quickly being drawn into conversation. “Yeah, Lopez, that's her girlfriend's seat!” Mapi sniggers.

“Lo Siento Ale, I didn’t know.” Vicky looks so apologetic that it tugs on Alexia's heart as her gaze softens and she pulls her head into her chest in an aggressive hug, she kisses her hair. “está bien pequeña”.

After another night of singing, card games and this time smores you get the attention of the group; “Okay girls, serious now. We are in bear country.” a gasp goes through the group, “Me and Mario have made the camp safe but there's always a chance a bear may wander into camp. I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m saying this to keep you safe.” you point down to your calf, where a slither of scar tissue can be seen,

“I’ve been on the wrong side of a hungry brown bear before. They are good creatures, just hungry. They hate humans. If, and this is a big if a bear wanders into camp you need to just make noise. That will be enough to scare it away and bring mine and Marios attention to you. Si?”

The group is quiet for a moment until Ingrid lets out an affirmative noise.

You think your little bear chat scared them because quickly it's just you, Mario and Alexia who remain awake, as Mario tells stories of his family and the mischief his children get up to. He lets out a big yawn.

“Mario, you can get to bed. I will sort this” you point down to the dying embers of the fire. “I owe you after today.” “You do” he smiles as he stands up and makes his way across camp to his hammock.

“I will go to bed also.” Alexia stands, and you offer to walk her to Mapi and Ingrids tent with your headlamp so she doesn't trip on any ropes.

That smile again. She nods and as you move closer to the tent you hear a noise. You put your hand on her arm to stop her, and cock your head to one side, that won’t be a bear, surely?

There! That noise again. Louder this time. Wait. A… groan?

“Oh my god.” Alexia whispers, a laugh in her voice. You're confused and then you hear it again, this time, it sounds suspiciously like a groan of a name. Maria. Oh. Oh for god's sake.

“Maybe they took the ‘make noise’ instruction too seriously, si?” Alexia giggles into your ear. This makes you bark out a laugh, quickly hidden behind her hand that raises itself to your mouth.

“Qué fue eso” you hear from the tent. For some reason, this fills both you and Alexia with childish excitement and glee. As you pull her hand with you as you sprint away from the tent as though you are 9 in a school yard and have just been told someone has cooties.

You guide her to your hammock, and stand there, giggles subsiding, suddenly unsure of what to do.

“Maybe they forgot you were in with them tonight?” you ask the blonde, who shrugs and replies “with those two I don’t think much can stop them.” this makes you laugh lightly and then a beat of silence.

“Erm, you can take my hammock, sorry, some people don't find it comfortable but it keeps the mosquitos away and I can set up a roll matt by the fire.”

“No.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make yo…”

“No, I mean. I am not kicking you out of your bed. I will go on the matt… “

“No Ale. With your blood you’ll be eaten alive without a net… maybe..”

“Si?”

“Maybe we can share? The hammock is huge and it's normal for people to share in survival situations, you know, to keep warm and stuff.”

“Creo que tener calor será el problema.” “Pardon?” “Ah, nothing, I just said yes we should share.”

This keeps happening, and you think it's hilarious, and you let out a coy smile, “roomies?” you ask, Alexia matches your smile as she nods.

You let her get settled into the hammock in her sleeping bag before you pull it wider, there being plenty of material to hold you both comfortably. You forgot, the design of the hammock encapsulates you both, the canvas bowing upwards forcing you both into the middle, and creating a shield around you, mosquito net a curtain around you.

Suddenly, all your senses are full of Alexia. Alexia beneath you and stars above you. God. Have you died and gone to heaven? No. In heaven you wouldn't be separated by 2 layers of polyester sleeping bags.

You shuffle around to try to take some of your weight off her and lie by her side. “Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a type of embarrassment you never do when usually sharing this space, probably with another explorer, usually in some death defying situation.

You don’t know how this perfectly safe encounter makes you more nervous than those. In those situations, you don’t have time to be embarrassed by how heavy your weight is on the other person, how it's been 2 days since your last shower…. How your breath must smell.

“Estas bien” she lets out, softly, and those two words calm you more than a half a bar of phone signal after days of trekking in the Atlas Mountains ever could. One of her arms envelopes your shoulder and your head settles onto her chest. “Lo siento my arm is in the way…”

“Estas bien.” you reply, softly.

Alexia has never been more comfortable in her entire life. The warmth of your body weighs on hers, the smell of you infiltrating her senses, the stars above and the gentle sway of the hammock.

Sleep is already dragging her as you whisper, “buenas noches que duermas bien ale”.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia wakes to the feeling of movement on her chest. Before she opens her eyes she takes stock of her body. Her arms now fully wrapped around you. Hands tangled in your hair. You burrowed into her chest. She is warm.

She is happy.

She knows you're awake. But there's no springing apart in embarrassment. God no. She's not ashamed. She wants this moment to last forever.

But it can’t.

You groan in her arms as you both hear Mario clanking pans to start breakfast. You pop your head up like a meerkat to take note of the surroundings. It's early. Dew still in the grass and an early morning fog over the lake. The light is dim, the sun not yet as awake as the occupants of your hammock.

“Morning Ale” you croak, morning voice in full effect. You finally turn to her and your breath is nearly taken away by her beauty. Her face is open, hair bedridden and eyes bleary from sleep but smile tugging on her lips as she looks at you with that look.

“Cómo estás aún más hermosa por la mañana?” she asks, in a whisper trying not to break the silence of the morning, it just comes out of her mouth without thinking, and she can’t stop it.

You freeze in her arms, and for a moment she tenses.

“...pardon?” you ask. Ale covers herself, “Ah lo siento, I asked. Did you sleep well?” you hum in acknowledgement and she isn’t sure what to make of the look that you sent her way.

“Yes, very well thank you. At least you’re softer than the floor.” you joke, eyebrow arched.

“I am not soft!” she replies, affronted, “I am all muscle actually!” She sits up and begins to tense her biceps jokingly. This is the Ale that frightens you the most. Frightens you how deep your feelings will run. All jokes and soft edges and smiles. You need a moment.

“Alright alright superwoman. Go put the kettle on, will you? I’m going to jump in the lake to wash off before your girls wake up.” and with that you lean out of the hammock and pull your shirt off as you go, leaving you in a sports bra and Alexia with her mouth hanging open.

Which is why, not 6 minutes later, Ona is awoken to the sound of her tent unzipping.

“Lucia” she hears whisper-yelling, into the entrance of the tent. She freezes, sleep-addled mind confused… is that… Alexia?

“Lucia!” more urgent this time. Ona rolls away from her girlfriend and sees Alexia's head popped through the tent. Looking around urgently.

“What do you want, Ale?” Ona groans. Her girlfriend is dead to the world, an atomic bomb wouldn’t wake her up.

“I need Lucia!”

“What for. What has happened… it must be… 6am?” Ona grabs for her watch, confirming her suspicions.

“Si, pero eso no importa, I need Lucia to translate for me.”

“You speak better English than she does Spanish.” One is very very confused. “What needs translating?”

“I do not need English, I need British.” Ah. This is making sense now, The whole team had seen how love sick their capi had been over the mountain boss. It was unnerving for them, but all of them wish nothing but happiness for their well respected leader, still, it’s always fun to tease.

“Ah, mi Capi. This has something to do with the jefe de montana, si?” a teasing smile enters her face, “por favor, tell me, what's happened?”

Alexia looks frustrated, looking at something outside of the tent, but seems to accept her fate as she lets herself fall into the tent, practically on top of Ona, whilst holding a… kettle?

“She asked me to put the kettle on. But Ona, I don’t know what I’m putting it on! Is it a special kettle? it doesn't do anything, look!” and with that the young defender gets a metal kettle thrust into her face as though it's a rubix cube that she has 30 seconds to solve

Her captain looks at her so urgently it would be sad if it wasn’t so hilarious. Ona can’t help herself as she bursts out laughing. All this does is further aggravate her captain.

“Oh, olvídalo, idiota, voy a despertar a Kiera.”

“No, No, No, lo siento mi Capi. You forget, I lived in England for years. She means for you to go boil the kettle. For hot drinks.”

Alexia looks at her dumbfounded, “then why didn’t she just say that!”

“I know” Ona looks at her with faux sympathy, as she passes the kettle back to her she looks so determined to complete the little task she's been set that offers her a lifeline.

“Capi, wait.” Alexia turns to look at her expectantly, “I have… experience? With the English.” her eyes dart to the lump that is Lucy sleeping beside her. Well Alexia can’t argue that.

“Make her a Tea. Just trust me.” Ona continues, sagely, as though she had just passed on the wisdom of the universe.

Alexia looks at her, about to question until…

“Tea? Someone's making tea?” Lucy grumbles, rolling over into Ona, seemingly awoken from her deep slumber like a dog who's just heard someone mention a walk.

Alexia doesn’t have time to open her mouth when she hears from the next tent over where she saw Keira set up last night, a thick english accent,

“Ey wait, Is someone brewing up?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s half an hour later and, with intervention from Lucy when Alexia tried to rip open a tea bag into your cup, that you have a warm enamel mug shoved into your hands. Alexia looked at you as though she had just handed you a pot of gold, all shining eyes and happy smile.

You feel much fresher after your early morning dip, trail shorts and vest back on and in two loose plaits that fall down over your shoulders. You look at the mug curiously, before you take a heavenly sniff of the liquid inside.

You thank the blonde, bashfully, and can’t help but place a grateful kiss on her cheek as you move past her. You pretend that your lips aren’t on fire from the contact. For her sake you also pretend that you didn’t see her stumble over a non-existent log at your action.

What you do miss though, is Ona sending her a wink, and the smug ‘i-told-you-so.” look at her face as she leans against her own girlfriend, who is happily drinking from her own mug.

You finish helping Mario make sure that all the girls are fed for the day before you stand in the middle of them and clap to gain their attention.

“Alright ladies! I hope you all slept well,- ” a mumble of affirmation goes through the group,

“I think Ingrid did not sleep so well.” Pina shouts across the group, “Si,” Parti joins in, “Did you see a bear Ingrid? Just I heard you screa-”

A rock is then thrown at Patris head, “ouch!” and you turn to see was directed by Mapi, Ingrid's face in a deep blush. The girls all burst into laughter.

God you were going to miss this group.

“Ok, Ok, Ladies calm it down. So, we have a choice today. Last full day on the hike… if you want it to be.” a curious mumble goes through the group. “Si, so, when we plotted this route someone…” you eye your partner “failed to mention that you are all literal athletes, so, we’re actually ahead of schedule, I’ve spoken to the bus company and if you want to then we can actually make it to the rendezvous spot today. It gives you a day back in Barcelona to yourselves before you start back at your traini….”

“No!” you’re interrupted as the group turns to Alexia who looks as though you’ve just asked her to never kick a ball again.

She takes a moment and realises that she's on her feet in front of the group, half of which are looking at her as though she's lost her mind, and the other half are looking at her with wry grins like they know exactly what's going on.

“I mean, we should not. We need to bond. As a team. Si?” she asks the group “That is why we are here, and we should do that. Yes.” She looks at her teammates determinedly, nodding, as though daring anyone to question her.

“But, Ale, you said that you hate–”, you see why Alexia is the best football player on the planet as you witness the speed in which she moves over to Jana and covers her entire face with her hand, stopping her words.

“No Jana, shhh pequeño. You look unwell. Are you feeling okay?” All Jana can do is nod under her giant hand as Mapi sniggers behind hers.

Okay, maybe you wouldn’t miss this group too much. They can be a bit weird. But you pretend that you don’t put more enthusiasm into your next sentence.

“Or, we can take the long way round to the rendezvous point, we’ll get some great views of the lake from that ridge over there” you point upwards and 23 eyes follow your movement, “set up camp for one more night, me and Mario can set up a Bonfire for our last night, yes?” he nods, “and then back to the bus in the morning if we would prefer?”

“Si, That we would prefer!” Alexia answers for the whole group, though the enthusiastic nods behind her assure you that they agree with her.

“Okay then, let's pack up campers, we'll have some elevation gains today!” you smile, clapping your hands together and a groan settles through the group as you move to pack up the breakfast items you hear Mapi and Alexia talking,

“Todos estamos haciendo esto por ti y por tu capitán de vida amorosa, recuérdalo el día del entrenamiento en circuito.”

Alexia responds in a tone you haven't heard from her before, “Lo sé, gracias Mapi. Simplemente no estoy listo para decir adiós todavía, ella es especial” she looks direct at you as she responds, no attempt to hide her spanish words, and the intensity of her gaze makes you look away.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All you wanted to do was a repeat of yesterday, hang at the back of the group and walk with Alexia. Maybe let your hand brush against hers a few times more than necessary and learn all about her life in Barca.

But, you were the best guide on this side of Europe for a reason. And you think Mario would push you off the mountain if you left him to do it again, even if he tells you he wouldn’t, you still felt bad about yesterday.

So today, you found yourself at the front of the group. Weirdly, Alexia by your side with a few of the older girls, as well as Jana and Vicky who were hanging off Alexia's every word. It was cute, watching her with them.

Whatever fatigue she was suffering from yesterday which slowed her down so much seemed to have lifted, as her strong legs carried her with the rest of the group upwards. The elevation not bothering any of the women.

You were just hanging back with Mapi and Ingrid for a moment. Mapis backpack was bothering her, probably on account of her trying to carry all of Ingrids kit, you were teasing her as you helped to re-adjust the weight as Mapi was grumbling about how she definitely was strong enough to carry two sleeping bags, a tent as well as two sets of clothing whilst Ingrid was literally carrying a pillow, when the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Something didn’t feel right, you looked up and could still see the front of the group, Alexia and Vicky chatting, going off Aleixas hand movements there was some deep football discussion going on.

You take stock of everything around you. In order to be in your line of work you needed to be aware of all of your senses, if one failed, another would pick it up, a smell in the air brought your attention and you turned to see droppings just off the trail. A large amount of droppings, and, oh no, green. You turned again and saw a tree bark torn up further away from the trail.

Fuck.

Bear droppings are green and quickly turn black as they oxidise, bears tear up trees and rocks as they pass through an area. These droppings were fresh, very fresh.

That, tied with your fantastic intuition, made you nervous.

The group had continued onward as you took stock and Alexia and Vicky had turned a corner just up the trail. You quickly help Mapi back into her backpack and move through the group quickly, making your way to the front.

“Detener!” you shout, wanting Alexia and Vicky in your sights. You turn the corner and your shout has caught their attention as they are both frozen, looking at you expectantly.

What they fail to notice, however, is a bear on the trail in front of them, not 20 metres away.

It’s a young bear, that you can tell, which is good because of its size, but the worst possible situation because young bears, like humans, are stupid.

They are curious, they don’t see you as a threat, but if there is a bear this young here, there will be a mother bear somewhere around which you definitely do not want to be on the wrong side of.

You need to separate your group from this bear as quickly as possible. But without freaking them out.

“Alexia, walk towards me.” you instruct, seriously, arm out reaching towards the two girls, whilst you hold your other arm out behind you. Stopping the rest of the group before they can move forwards.

“What’s the matte— oh meirda…” Alexia has turned and seen what's on the path in front of her. Her back immediately straightens and grabs Vicky to pull her behind her. You hate the quick movement that they make as you inwardly cringe at their actions.

“Alexia, stay calm.” you slowly move towards them, “do not make any quick movements.” you don’t receive any sort of affirmation as both girls seem to be frozen in place.

“No te muevas rápidamente, no corras. Caminar hacia atrás lentamente” your use of spanish seems to get through the fear as you see Alexias feet start to scramble backwards, pushing Vicky behind her, who remains shielded behind her back.

You move forwards, slowly, arms still raised and as soon as in touching distance, pull Alexia behind your back. You can’t see her face as you refuse to move your eyes from the threat in front of you, but you can feel the terror running through her body.

Meanwhile, the bear is having a great old time, sniffing around and pawing at the ground. He’s stopped on the trail and is looking at you, curiously, as he starts to move towards you, you hear a yelp of terror from one of the girls behind you.

Usually, you know, to make yourself big and back up as slowly as possible, but you’re in a group of 23 novice hikers, and you knew you had to get this threat away as quickly as possible.

So instead, you make yourself big, you raise your arms in the air and start to move forward. You feel a tug on the back of your shirt and a frightened whimper from the tall blonde who seems to have grasped onto your shirt.

You take a big stride forwards as you move a hand back to untangle Alexia's grasp from your shirt.

“OYE, OSO. LO SIENTO AMIGO, TINES QUE MOVERTE!” you continue to move forward and wave your hands around. The bear cocks his head at you, curiously, you’re still moving closer and an alarm is going off in your mind, he’s gotta start moving or you’re going to be too close for comfort…

“SEGUIR. IRSE” you clap your hands together sharply, and that seems to frighten the curiosity from the young bear, who quickly scurries off the path and deep into the bush on your right hand side.

The silence of the moment is suffocating. You take a moment and breathe some deep breaths. Filling your lungs and slowly releasing it. Once you feel your heartbeat settle down you turn on your heel and open your eyes to face the group behind you.

There, you are faced with 23 shell shocked faces. Mouths comically dropped as they all stare at you in awe.

The silence is interrupted as Mario catches up to the group, singing under his breath, you see his head pop up from the back of the group and an innocent smile on his face, “Hey chicas? What did I miss?”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...And then El jefe de la montaña practically tackled this enormous bear that was virtually salivating at the thought of eating Ales pert butt as a light snack!”

Mapi dramatically, and incorrectly recites her version of events for what feels like the 5th time for the rest of the group who were hanging back with Mario during the excitement of the day.

The whole group sat together at the bonfire that you and Mario had erected, you’d gone the whole hog and dragged logs over to create a circle around the fire. You’d cracked out the marshmallows you’d been hiding deep in your backpack and you and the girls had had an evening of jokes, stories and, after Matio whipped his ukulele out again, songs.

You’re sitting with Ingrid and you miss the warmth at your side that had been present over the last two days. Alexia is sat with Vicky, and, whilst she’s been nothing but pleasant to you since the incident this afternoon, you feel like a barrier has come up between you.

You try to not overthink the situation, who are you anyway? She's Alexia Putellas, and, over the last 3 days you've learnt that that's a big deal. Of course she isn’t interested in you. God. You need to be a professional. You try to stay in the moment and stop your mind from running away. You feel the heat from the fire on your face as you close your eyes.

“... and how did you learn to do that?” you hear, and as Ingrid nudges your side, you realise Mapis question was aimed at you.

You open your eyes and see the attention of the group on you. There may be an entire football team's eyes on you but you can’t help but zone in on a certain set of hazel eyes which bore directly into your soul.

“I told you, I’ve been on the wrong end of a bear in my time.” you try to joke, pointing at the scar again running down your leg, and you get a few chuckles, but you note, Alexia's face remains stoic, and her frown deepens at your words.

“What happened?” Vicky asks, next to her. She receives a light slap to the head from her captain, “Aye, don’t be rude pequeño.”

“I don’t mind Ale.” you say, heart warming at Alexias protectiveness, “well, little football superstar” you address Vicky, “I was on a 6 month trek through the Andeas, we wanted to see if we could find any further remains from the Incas. We did by the way. Anyway, I was young, and stupid and we hadn’t stored our food safely, which, you’ll note, me and Mario have done today.” you reach across and give your partner a fist bump, “a mother bear wandered into our camp whilst I was alone. I was an idiot and got between her and an open packet of cheetos.”

“Cheetos!” Vicky asks, incredulously.

“Yes! Turns out they love those cheesy snacks” you wink at her, “she attacked and luckily, my camp leader was just coming back and managed to deploy his bear spray just as she managed to take a good swipe at my calf. I was lucky. But it wasn’t her fault. I was in her land and didn’t protect myself properly.”

Vicky waxes lyrical about your story for a while, asking you a million and one questions. The conversation across the campfire moves onto the upcoming season for the team as you and Mario start to set camp up for the night around them.

“Hey, Al, Me and Ing are heading to bed, I promise we’ll behave tonight, but I can’t promise I won’t cuddle you.” you hear Mapi address to Alexia,

“Great, look forward to it” Alexia replied sarcastically. Mapis retreat to bed seems to have set off a chain reaction amongst the team who all start to say their goodnights.

You can’t pretend that you aren’t upset that you won’t have a repeat of last night in your hammock. The sadness swirls in your stomach, but you remind yourself that the whole thing seemed to be a fantasy you’d made up in your mind.

You look up to the sky and with your head torch can see that it seems to have darkened somewhat. You move away from camp and string a rope above your hammock, you throw over a tarpaulin which covers your hammock and protects you from any rain.

As you move back to the fire you decide you’ll wait it out instead of throwing water on to drown the fire. You have some excess energy from the excitement of the day and you know you’ll just lie awake in your hammock anyway. As Mario squeezes your shoulder in goodnight you notice that Alexia seems to be hanging around the edge of the circle.

“Night Ale.” you say, kindly. It’s not her fault you have a massive unrequited crush on her.

You don’t know her well but she seems…nervous? Hands playing with themselves and feet unable to stay still.

“Nig… actually… Can we talk?” she asks, chin turning upwards and vulnerability showing on her face.

You nod and you are surprised when she sits next to you and asks, “why do you still do it?”

You look at her, curiously, she is so beautiful. Sharp angles of her face illuminated by the dying embers, perfect lips, the arch of her nose. She takes your breath away. You have a question in your eyes.

“This. As a job. You got hurt…” her hand moves, and god it's only been a few hours but you feel like you’ve been touch starved for years, as she lightly traces the scar on your calf. Leaving behind a wake of goosebumps. “You’re so brave…”

Maybe it's her touch that makes gives you the confidence but you dont think before you reply,

“I could ask you the same thing.” She has a question in her eyes now, so you repeat her action, hand moving to touch her knee where you can see the surgery scars that pull tight against her skin.

You feel her take in a breath and you think you may have overstepped until she takes your hand in her large one, keeping your hand resting on her knee.

You look into the fire as you continue; “I love my job. I can’t imagine my life without it. It gives me air in my lungs. It's my reason to live. And yeah. I got hurt. I've been hurt before and I’ll be hurt again.” Alexia squeezes your hand at that, “but that's why we do what we love, isn’t it? You’re so brave every time you step out onto a pitch again” you direct your question to her, “we learn from our mistakes, come back stronger from our injuries, not just in our skills but as people? No?”

There's that look again, those open eyes, that expression you can’t place.

“Football is the same for you Ale. I can tell. When you talk about it. Think of that feeling you get. That's why I carry on. I love it, and it wasn’t that bears fault I got hurt, It was mine. Just as it wasn’t the rocks fault as I slipped 200 feet down Mt Kilimanjaro. They’re all lessons on how to adapt, on how to come back stronger.”

She nods, a look of understanding in her eyes and turns her gaze towards the fire. But doesn’t let go of your hand.

You don't know what Alexia is thinking. You don't know that she feels like every word out of your mouth feels like you've plucked it straight from her heart. You're deep. She feels like finally someone gets her.

“You spoke Spanish today.” she lets out into the silence.

Ah, you think, she hadn’t missed it like you thought that she may have done in the heat of the moment. And, as usual, you try to break the tension with a joke.

“He was a Spanish bear. I wanted him to understand me.”

Alexia doesn't laugh but instead turns to you again, “I feel stupid.”

There's that vulnerability again.

“No. Never feel stupid Alexia, you are the most intelligent person I have ever met.” you reply, instantly, and turn your body to hers,

“You didn’t tell me that you spoke spanish… everything I have said…”

“I meant to! Honestly I did, I mean I told you I lived in Peru for two years.” she raises her eyebrow at you… “Ale they speak Spanish in Peru.” “Oh.”

Her eyes drop down to the floor and you can’t physically allow that look of sadness to sit on her face for a moment longer.

“I think you’re more beautiful in the mornings too.” you whisper, the only noise around you the crackling of the drying embers around you.

Alexia looks up at this, eyes somewhat, hopeful? And it's that look that gives you the belief that maybe maybe she feels the same way?

“Si? Even though you made me smell like garlic?” she asks, before the syllable is even out of her mouth you reply. “Si, tan hermoso. Aunque tal vez sea más hermoso ahora con la luz del fuego.”

You stood in front of a bear today.

But the scariest moment of your day is as you move your head towards hers, slowly, more frightened of this rejection than any wild animal.

You look deeply into her eyes and the permission you seek is gained there, she gives you a small nod as she closes the distance between you both. Her lips finally meet yours in a gentle and sweet kiss.

It's like fireworks have gone off in your stomach.

Your mouth tingles where it presses against hers, your lips softly encase her lower lip and you hear her squeak of satisfaction which is the cutest fucking thing you have ever heard in your life.

You kiss as though you have all the time in the world. It is gentle and slow. Until it is not. And then you kiss like a pair of horny teenagers as it deepens and you groan into her mouth as her tongue seeks permission in yours.

You would have continued all night had mother nature not intervened.

You’re good with your senses and you hear the fizz of the fire going out before you feel the drops of rain on your skin. You pause your movements and look deep into Alexia's eyes.

“Y hueles deliciosa” you whisper, enjoying the way her eyes crinkle as you make her laugh.

“Will you sleep with me?” you ask, her eyes widen in panic at your question and it takes your lust-addled brain a moment to catch up, “wait. No! No Lo siento, no soy un asqueroso! I mean. Will you stay with me tonight in my hammock? No funny business, I promise!”.

Your hands move off the taller girls hips where they seem to have found themselves as she settled onto your lap, and you hold them high in surrender.

Alexia saw you face a bear today.

And the look on your face now is more panicked than it was then.

She smiles at you, god she has it bad she thinks.

“Si, I will, and… maybe some funny business?”

You’re lucky that your bark of laughter doesn’t wake up any of your campmates.

Content that the rain which is now falling more heavily will take care of the fire, you rush the blonde to your hammock, lifting the tarpaulin above her head so she could duck down and she settles herself into the material like a seasoned pro.

You open up your sleeping bag and turn it into a blanket which will cover you both as she opens up her arms and you settle into them. It’s pitch black in the tent and you feel as though your other senses are working to make up for it. The rain patters against the plastic sheet above you and you enjoy the sound as you enjoy the warmth beneath you, the hammock still swaying gently.

You shuffle in the blondes hold, moving so that you can lie stomach to stomach. Your face close to hers, you exchange gentle kisses and enjoy the feeling of her hands on your back as you gently scratch against her scalp.

Your head on her chest as sleep starts to take you, still enjoying the heat of her body and the ministrations of her hands which have moved beneath your t-shirt.

“Maybe the outdoors isn’t so bad.” you hear her whisper as sleep takes hold.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Life is funny sometimes.

You think to yourself.

You think about how you got here.

Not 24 hours ago stood in Arles, a minibus packed with footballers in front of you, and, in most cases, gawking at you, faces pushed against the windows, comically, as Ingrid moved through the inside of the bus, slapping heads and pulling them back into their seats.

You’d held Alexia's hands. You’d followed her lead this morning and since you both woke up and made breakfast at the campfire, she hadn’t stopped being affectionate, seemingly, no hint of hiding her affections from her teammates.

She’d hung behind with you and helped you pack up camp, as you both spent what you thought potentially was your last morning together.

It was light, you both had laughed easily and teased each other relentlessly.

Until that moment, when reality struck. You, due to fly back home to England in a few hours, and Alexia, about to board a bus which would take her miles away from you.

You’d already scribbled your number onto a trail mix wrapper and secured it into her hand. She had promised to message as soon as she could and you had promised to keep in touch, trying to keep the tears that teased your eyes at bay as you settled your face into her warm palm.

But it hadn’t felt right.

It wasn’t fair. It was too soon. This had felt too right.

So you hadn’t been able to control yourself, as you faced her back as she boarded the bus when you asked; “Hey, Ale?” she’d turned and you knew you hadn’t misplaced that look of hope in her eyes, “Have you ever been to an 82nd birthday party?”

The grin that overtook her face could only be matched by yours.

So here you now found yourself. Standing in your nan’s garden under a gazebo as the English rain lightly drizzled, only 2 hours fashionably late for the event you actually arrived back in England for 4 days ago.

As your brother had opened the door earlier, you laughed at the shock on his face when he took Alexia in. All blonde, lean and mediterranean and very out of place in the middle of the drizzle of the English lake district.

Your whole extended family had popped up behind your brother, smiles and coy grins on their faces. Your mum broke the stunned silence at your arrival, more specifically, at the blonde by your side.

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

Alexia's face broke out into a huge grin that literally warmed your heart.

“I know how to do that!” she had replied, excitedly, her spanish accent thick.

Well, maybe not that out of place.

fin.

#Spotify #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community

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therealmrrobinson · 1 month ago

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THE DAY THE EARTH BLEW UP: A LOONEY TUNES MOVIE Movie Review

Let’s be honest, when it comes to movies, the Looney Tunes brand has not had a very good run this decade. In 2021 there was Space Jam: A New Legacy, which turned out to be nothing but a shameless commercial for all things Warner Bros., and then there was the infamous tale of the shelved Coyote vs. Acme movie that may never see the light of day. So it’s with all of these tragedies that it’s a miracle that this movie, The Day The Earth Blew Up, even got released. (Granted through Ketchup Entertainment and not WB. themselves.) Not only that, but it’s also incredible that the end result is undeniably the best Looney Tunes ever made.

THE GOOD

What separates this movie from something like the Space Jam sequel, is that it is made by people who clearly love Looney Tunes. Despite the fact that we only have three characters, this movie stays true to who they are. Daffy Duck is more reflective of how his was when he was first introduced and before he started being paired up with Bugs Bunny. He’s a complete lunatic, he’s overly confident, and has a tendency to cause more trouble than what they have to deal with in the moment! Meanwhile, Porky Pig is the more sensible of the two, complete with his famous stutter. Eric Bauza does a fantastic job voicing both characters and much like Mel Blanc long before, it’s incredible how many of the Looney Tunes characters he’s able to voice to perfection. Petunia Pig is also a fun character. She manages to be the most sensible of the group, while also being crazy and…dare I say looney in her own way!

The animation is spectacular. It’s great to not only see classic 2D animation, but also 2D animation that was made for a big screen experience. The last two animated movies that I can think of that look like they were hand drawn are The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim or Teen Titans Go! To the Movies. In both instances, you watch those movies and question the reason to release them in theaters. The animation in The Day The Earth Blew Up is not only smooth and well detailed, but it also amplifies the insanity and comedy. One of my favorite gags is with Farmer Jim, the adopted father of both Daffy and Porky. While our two main characters are fully animated, Farmer Jim is mostly a static drawing played for full comic effect.

The movie is not just hilarious in how it captures the spirit of Looney Tunes, but also how it works as a parody of the alien invasion movies of the 1950s. From mind control, alien goo, 50s style flying saucers, and the title of the film itself, this movie is a perfect homage to those old school science fiction movies. However it’s mixed with that very chaotic tone that you expect from Looney Tunes and features enough twists that make the movie feel fresh and funny! The big masterplan of the alien invader is ridiculous but makes sense within the nature of the film!

OVERALL

This is about as good as a Looney Tunes movie can get and the flaws it has, aren't worth mentioning! I never got the appeal of Space Jam, and this is coming from a kid of the 90s. That movie should’ve been my childhood, but it just doesn’t work for me. As for Looney Tunes: Back in Action, I have a soft spot for that movie, but even then I can’t deny that The Day The Earth Blew Up blows that one out of the water. It’s got spectacular animation, it’s fateful to the source material, the characters are fun, and it’s jam-packed with jokes that made me laugh hard! Not to mention it has a lot of heart when it comes to Daffy and Porky’s friendship. It’s a reminder of what made Looney Tunes work in the first place and why they will endure until the end of time despite David Zaslav’s hatred for them!

RATING

GET OFF YOUR ASS AND GO SEE IT NOW!!!

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timmie-p · 1 year ago

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april fools post translation 👍 * indicates i have notes on the translation if you want to read below

Hyun Woo —> He stopped acting in his childhood but is currently working on ALNST as a lighting crew member. Worries about his dull, slow sister

Hyuna —> The last and youngest of the ALNST cast to debut! Her real personality is gentle and innocent

Mizi —> Fan favourite among the actors. Shy personality and very nervous about her first leading role

Sua —> The feisty actress is popular among her co-stars, thanks to her nonchalant friendliness

Sua: Great job on the shoot today. I’m sure Director Kim was only speaking so harshly because he was worried about your safety, so don’t take it personally.

Mizi: Yeah.. ((It’s sunbae!!! What should I do! What should I do!!))

Sfx: Thump thump thump [heartbeat sound]

Ivan and Luka are actors from a different agency. They’re also in an idol group together (for the record, Luka hates it)

Ivan —> Ivan loves kids and voluntarily takes care of them

Luka —> Luka is Ivan’s best friend, so he’s forced to babysit with him

Baby Till —> Baby Till for flashback scenes

Baby Mizi —> Baby Mizi for flashback scenes when the kids are older

Till —> Till, the youngest in the series, is actually the oldest in the cast and debuted with CF before he could even speak in a diaper commercial. Till has a strong “my pace”* persona. He just wants to quickly wrap up the shoot and go home. His dark circles are from overwork, not make-up.

Others —> Three people who want to approach their mysterious** senior but can’t

Ivan: ((Lamenting over delays..?))

Mizi: Want me to talk to him?

Luka: Yeah

Till: ((I want to go home))

Sfx: Spacing out~

*according to namu wiki, either someone who’s strongly independent and doesn’t care what others think or someone who’s always chill

**according to namu wiki, the adjective translates to a famous person who deliberately keeps their private life secret. i just went with mysterious bc it directly translates to “mystic”

i didn’t choose to translate sunbae in Mizi’s thoughts because it sounds weird and most of you probably know what it means anyway

lol it looks like everyone’s personalities were flipped. does that mean ivan actually hates kids? and till as the cool mysterious senior everyone is scared to talk to vs hyuna as no thoughts head empty is kinda funny. i have a feeling ivan and luka are shipped together a lot by fans in this au.. the woes of being besties. also mizisua is always canon 🙏 theyre so yuri

#alien stage #alnst hyuna #alnst mizi #alsnt sua #alnst ivan #alnst luka #alnst till #official art #translations

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penvisions · 24 days ago

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stages of devotion {pink and purple}

Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Baker! Reader

Summary: Valentine's Day genuinely drives you insane, but you thrive on it until the energy that surrounds other holidays. And this year? This year you have Joel Miller in your life.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: canon typical language, angst, strained family dynamic, feelings of inadequacy, miscommunication, single dad joel, triggers associated with the food industry, illusions to smut, let me know if i missed any but this is pretty tame

A/N: oops, this is insanely late. but it's done and it helped me through day three of organizing my personal life from my bed, where i'm kind of stuck right now. love y'all!

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

Most holidays are made up, or at least so far removed from their historical roots in order to commercialize them for the masses- the jaded thought crossed your mind as you hit submit on a massive order from your main vendor. The espresso sours in your mug, the milk separated from sitting for too long pulls your face into a disgusted frown as you look down into it. It was hours ago now that you made it, your stomach and head telling you it needs caffeine and sustenance; and quick if your headache was any indication.

Holidays were fun and kitschy, brought in a lot of money for the bakery, for your bank account and bills but it was so damn taxing. Three weeks out from the giant pink fluff ball that is Valentine’s Day and the crushing weight of the day sits heavy on your shoulders. But you smile despite it as you shut down the computer set up in the small office, grab your cardigan from

Joel did his best to change your mind on that front with his proposal to find more time for each other in your hectic lives. And it’s been working out pretty well so far. The last two months has been a blur of frantic kisses and coffee runs for the crew here at the shop, of last-minute dates spent eating take out in his truck after his shift ends and before your early bed time.

Another date is tonight, but this time you both share a meal sitting at an actual table and wine poured into large, stemmed glasses. It helps to keep you upbeat for another two weeks, the prep for the holiday pulling you in one direction and a contracted job on the outskirts of the city pulling Joel in another. The memory of the night flits through your mind, your body feeling light and a little warm as you recall the way he hadn’t been able to wait until you up the stairs that leads to further into your apartment…

What you wouldn’t give to see that side of him a little more, the desperate, needy man that is hidden beneath the hardworking, loving, devoted one he is all of the time…

But this week, there’s absolutely no time for anything other than frosting, sprinkles, and batter. Because on Friday, it’s Valentine’s Day. You’ve got a stack of cake orders that equal to one hundred, cupcakes, chocolate strawberries, cookies, fruit tarts, and everything in between. Thankfully you live in the space above the shop, otherwise there would be no way for you and Callie to get it all done. The air in your lungs was more powdered sugar and flour at this point than plain old oxygen, but it’s a small price to pay for the record sales you make every year.

This year, you have a goal in mind for the extra income. The hourly you would normally earn from the week of prep and the day itself- it’s going to go toward helping Joel get Sarah into the summer soccer camp she has her eye on. It’s upstate, the first time she will be away from her father for so long. But the way she went on and on about it at a family dinner with just the three of you, one shared look with the man across the table and you knew you had to help anyway you could to make it happen.

The phone rings just as you place a piping bag down, metal tip on a strategically placed parchment paper to avoid making an even bigger mess atop the cluttered counter. Wiping your hands on the damp towel hanging from the tie of your apron, you reach for it.

“Sugar ‘n Spice, how may I help you?”

“Well, hey there, sweetheart. Been tryin’ to reach you.” The familiar, deep voice of one Joel Miller filters over the line.

“Joel! Oh no, my phone probably died, it’s in the office somewhere underneath the order printouts. I’m so sorry.” Blowing out a wobbly sigh, you realize you can’t see it from where you’re at the counter and lean over to glimpse inside the door.

“No need to apologize, I understand how hectic it is over there. Sarah said it was a lot going on.” You can sense his mood over the phone, tired and a little stressed. You can picture him clenching and unclenching the hand not holding the phone, or rubbing at the back of his neck and digging his fingers into the hair that’s beginning to curl there.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy. Just trying to build the cakes I can and get them in the freezer with a crumb coat. Gonna decorate once they’re all sorted out.” You ramble to try and counteract it, but you know that you’re more than likely just coming off as manic as your voice fills the space of the bakery kitchen over the music you play at a low volume. Callie is out handling the front counter, training the morning person on the specials and how to answer flavor profile questions for everything.

“Listen, sweetheart, I hate to do this to you…” Your heart sinks, voice trailing off as your chest coils tight- Joel’s energy transferring to you over the line.

“Sarah came down with somethin’, had to leave the job site to get her from school. She’s holed up in her room and won’t be able to make it in for her shift later. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I hope she’s okay, does she need anything? I can make soup or bring over some stuff from here to help cheer her up?” You’re spiraling, you know you are. And Joel’s next words feel like a stab to the gut.

“No, no, that’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got it all covered over here, we’ll get this to break. You don’t need to worry about us,” Your hearing tunnels out, his deep gravely voice distant as you respond to him with deflated words you would not be able to repeat since they don’t really even register past the line clicking off and the dial tone that mimics a flatline on a heart monitor.

It might as well be, because you’re sure your heart just broke at the implication that you didn’t need to worry about the two most important people in your life. Titles and circumstances don’t change that Joel is a single parent, that he takes his responsibility so seriously because Sarah is his lifeline and always will be. Your own father barely acknowledged you growing up, and now that you’re in the food industry he continues in his steadfast ignorance of your existence. Your brother taking the spotlight, the favorite alongside your younger sister who they dote on endlessly. In that moment, you feel like an outsider and an overlooked daughter all in one. And you don’t like it, so you bury your hurt feelings in the frosting bag you refill and continue piping the countless cakes on the speed racks surrounding you well into the night.

A week goes by with no Joel. Sarah out for her three shifts she works after school on the days she doesn’t have soccer practice. You’re trying to unload the pallet that the driver was insistent on leaving in the dining room of the bakery, a new person who you’ve never seen before. Normally, Rick is the one who has the route with your shop on it and he always stays for a cup of coffee and a sweet roll after unloading the delivery directly into the walk in and kitchen for you. You miss him, feeling the weird energy wafting off the new guy and the loss of your almost friend as you want for personal interaction after being alone and holing up in the kitchen- you haven’t been sleeping, and you feel more than a little pathetic. Still.

The phone turned to silent as you throw yourself into the holiday prep, pink and white and red swirling even behind closed eyelids. Just as your cheeks puff with a deep breath and the thud of the last bag of flour onto the stack you keep organized by date, moving the ones just delivered to the bottom, the bell chimes in front of the bakery.

The pressure of the holiday is firmly on your shoulders, people picking up their orders begins in an hour, leaving you very little time to be frustrated with the actions of the new delivery guy. Frosting needs to be made for the last rack of cakes, royal icing for the cookies that people can come in and request names on, chocolate drizzle for the strawberries that are already coated in their shells, but all of it will fly off the shelves, off the racks and through the city until the very second you lock the door promptly at six pm, maybe even a little bit later if people are queued up or last minute pop ins.

Joel hovers in the doorway to the kitchen space, his form filling the empty frame well. He’s got an almost shy expression about him and an armful of flowers while a small bag hangs from around two thick fingers.

“I locked the door, I know you ain’t really open yet.” Is how he announces himself after a moment of watching you move the wooden pallet to lean against an empty wall by the door that leads up to your personal space. You jump and spin around with a hand to your heart, the footsteps thought to be of the man he’s berates with his next words. “Delivery guy left it wide open, didn’t recognize him but he was pretty rude when I said I knew you.”

“Joel!” You place your other hand to the counter in front of you and lean over to gather your breath back, aware of him placing the items in his hands down atop it before they settle on your back in a comforting, familiar gesture.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His voice rumbles over you, so close. Closer than he’s been in the past week, just missed calls and texts checking in with you- knowing you were beyond busy with the shop. “We got your delivery, Sarah is feeling a bit better and scarfed it down quick.”

“Oh, um, good.” You shrug off his hands and stand to your full height, eyes bouncing around- never landing on him.

“Did…did I do somethin’?” He’s straight to the point, knowing that there’s no need to mince words, not when it was you- not when it was him and you together. Clear communication, clear intentions. Or so he thought.

“No, I just- you know what, yeah, you did something,” The bite in your words is sharp, digging into a confused and exhausted Joel. “You cut me out! ‘I’ve got it all covered’. Well, newsflash, Joel, I got it all covered myself. I’ve got an insane day ahead of me, so please, just-just go.”

He says your name, tone pleading as he reaches out for you, but you take a step back, eyes finally landing on him.

“I get it, it’s just you two against the world. I really do, you’re a great father, a good man- of course you are. But you need to please, just…” You trail off as you see the emotions swirl in his amber eyes- the dark brown catching the fluorescents of the kitchen since the sun is still dipped below the horizon.

Joel’s mouth opens, but the store phone rings once and then the answering machine clicks. Your father’s voice fills the tense air, adding another layer of anxiety and weight on top of your already aching shoulders.

Your mother and brother will be by in an hour to pick up some stuff, make sure to set aside some of the better lookin’ things, yeah? Don’t put anythin’ too absurd in the box, you know I don’t like that type of shit. Just plain and simple. You always do too much, stress yourself out for no goddamn reason.

That’s it, that’s the entire message. No greeting, no sign off, no mention of the holiday or your name or that he’s grateful for the free products. Just a command and a chastisement. Because charging your family once, that was enough of a humiliation to experience. The laugher and scoffing, the words ‘outrageous’ and ‘not worth that much’ echo in your head each and every time you input a new price into the computer system or handwrite a card for the display case.

“Go, please.” Your voice is small, but strong. The comparison of the man whose voice just spoke and Joel standing in your kitchen too much to handle right now.

“Okay, sweetheart, I’ll go,” He motions to the bouquet of flowers and the bag still on the counter closest to him. “Those- those are for you, for Valentine’s Day, cause I thought…cause you’re my girl.”

He doesn’t sound so sure, his words rising at the end of his sentence as if questioning it in that very moment, despite the time he put forth in choosing the items. His eyes are questioning too, as he connects them with yours. But all you can offer him is a trembling bottom lip and a tight nod of your head.

He doesn’t ask you to call him and you don’t say that you will.

You’re surrounded by pink even as your heart darkens purple, as if bruised by every strained interaction with your family, aching and lighting up in the way of this…rut with the man that turns around and disappears through the space you’ve created for yourself.

The door is opening before you even raise your hand to knock.

Joel stands there with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, the smell of cooking food wafting through the open door. He looks so goddamn hopeful as his eyes rove over your form, straight from the bakery where you had finally locked the door behind the last patrons. Frosting and sprinkles splotch your apron, oil darkening spots on your jeans and shines on your hands as you hold the necklace unearthed from pretty tissue paper and a simple jewelry box.

It’s gold. With the imprint of a tent right in the middle of the flat pendant.

“Joel…”

He’s ushering you inside just as the tears begin to trail down your cheeks, warmth moving up your neck from your chest to burn hot behind blurry eyes.

“It wasn’t supposed to make you cry, it was- it was supposed to make you smile.” He whispers as if berating himself for messing up the one day he promised himself he would make a good one.

“Their hap-happy tears,” Your voice warbles out, hands reaching for him as he turns around from closing the door, wrapping around his neck. You burrow your head into his chest and breathe him, his own coming around you to hug you tight to him. The gold of the necklace is cold where it swings across his neck and dips below the back collar of his shirt.

“Sarah’s mom left the day before the holiday, years ago,” The confession, the reason- it’s muffled where he buries his own face in your hair, smelling the sweetness of powdered sugar and vanilla. A perfume that lingers on your skin from the shop, even on your days off, a part of what makes him so enamored by you. The undertones of amaretto, of cherry- it’s his favorite scent in the world ever since your encounter months ago- a tent and a night of passioned shared between you two. The beginning of the connection you two share, despite everything.

“She always gets a little…melancholic I guess is the right word, this time of year. And with her getting’ her, uh, monthly right before we met- it’s been a tough couple of months for her to see all ‘o her friends turn to their moms for help with stuff she’s goin’ through.”

“I-I didn’t know,” You feel selfish, for feeling the way you do. None of it comparing to the way a child feels the loss of such an important figure in their life, a literal parent- you know all to well how much it can affect someone. Your own mother staying in the car this morning while your brother rolled into the shop like he was the reason it was standing, demanding the things he ‘had to make an insane drive for at the ass crack of dawn’ without so much as a smile or a thank you. Gone in the blink of an eye, your mother not even bothering to look into the bay windows from where she primly looked over whatever was in her lap.

“Not your responsibility to know, it’s…unless...unless you want it to be?” Joel sounds nervous, unsure of himself- such a stark contrast to how he normally speaks. He’s leaning back, large hands moving to your neck as you look up at him, his fingers gently prodding at the sensitive underside of your chin. His eyes are so deep as they scan over your face. A smudge of frosting dried high on your cheek as you feeling a little more than self-conscious.

“Wh-what do you mean?” The words are a whisper. Mind working overtime as you strip his own down to figure out what exactly it is he’s saying.

“If you were…my girl, my girlfriend…we could- we could manage it together. She adores you, asks after you when you ain’t been around for a few days or she’s not workin’ alongside you. She…she wants you in her life mor’n I’ve seen with anyone. But I’m terrified of makin’ more mistakes. Especially with her.”

Your brow furrows, lips thinning into a straight line.

“Mistake?”

“I’m not callin’ this-“ He dips down to kiss you chastely, to calm himself as much as you. “You ain’t a mistake, you’re…you’re everythin’ I’ve never let myself want, she’s been the priority. But I want to be selfish, want you in my life, sweetheart. Permanently.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend,” You confess, memories of half formed relationships bubble up, feelings of being the one that people turn to or ask after when others say no. Of situations that fizzle out in the blink of an eye and never on your account. “No one’s ever asked that of me before.”

“I’m not asking it of you, I’m offerin’ it to you. Lemme be your first, please. I-I’ll do right by you, better than this past week has been, I promise.”

Your heart soars, the weight you carry in it lightening at the earnest way he speaks. And then you’re closing the gap to press your lips firmly to his.

More happy tears warming your cheeks- you’re kissing your first ever boyfriend.

His lips are velvet soft against you, tongue hot where it slips between your own to ignite sparks all over your skin. You moan into his mouth, swallowing the heady sound he makes in response. You’re about to pull him closer when a timer dings and you nearly jump out of your skin.

He parts with a chuckle, hands trailing slowly as he distances himself from you and moves toward the oven. The towel still over one broad shoulder acts as a barrier for his hands as he folds it just so to take a deep pan out of the oven once the timer is silenced. The smell of garlic and herbs fills the space with a fuller sense, and you realize that he’s made lasagna. An offhand comment made a few weeks ago lamenting the lack of a truly good finding in the city.

“Sarah and I put it together, we were kinda hoping you’d be by tonight after the shop closes. But she’s off at a sleepover now, guess she sensed things were a little…strained.”

He doesn’t let you help, instead you’re gently ushered into a chair at the dining table with a glass of wine while he carefully plates up two portions alongside some roasted brussel sprouts and garlic bread. When he finally sits down beside you, he takes one of your hands in his and kisses the top of it, a bashful smile playing at the corner of his lips. His eyes flash to the pendant hanging around your neck, carefully clasped by his own hands before he set to bustling around the kitchen.

“I don’t cook much, so it might be shit honestly, but Sarah got the recipe from one of her friend’s moms. Say’s she was born in Italy and it’s the real deal. Family recipe and all that.”

It’s amazing, but even if it was merely an okay rendition, the fact that he put so much effort into it would’ve made it so. You tell him just as much as you stand from your spot after the last bite and settle over his lap with a confidence that buzzes underneath your skin. Steadying hands grip your hips as you press into him and make out like a couple of teenagers right there in the kitchen, but when you rock once, twice, three times against the hardness you feel beneath the denim of his jeans the world suddenly shifts as he picks you up like you weigh nothing.

His drawling voice dips dirty promises are peppered into your skin with sucking kisses, your excited giggles and whining moans echo through the house as he carries you up the stairs and into his room.

He makes good on every single promise pressed into your skin, until you’re both gasping and panting, bodies spent and limbs exhausted.

Wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled beneath the sheets- warm, safe, and loved for exactly who you are and nothing more or nothing less. You smile as you hear the soft snores as Joel drifts off and shift just a little more securely into the plush bed, because you feel like you could float away. Happiness warms you just as his body does around you and you bite into your bottom lip to keep a giddy giggle contained.

Joel Miller is your boyfriend.

Words that slipped past a gasping breath while he was deep inside you moments before flare brightly, as if branded into the skin of your chest, curved around your heart.

You’re mine, you hear me? Mine.

taglist: @dontknow446 @copperhalfcent @tuquoquebrute @sawymredfox

@mareagirls @insidethegardenwall @wintersquirrel @pastelpinkflowerlife

@yxtkiwiyxt @here-briefly @pedroswife69 @lotusbxtch @amyispxnk

@for-a-longlongtime @burntheedges @tonysopranosrobe @littlemisspascal

@the-mandawhor1an @picketniffler @lizard-zombie @brittmb115

@stevie75 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @wildesights @cheekychaos28

@its-nebuleuse @cas-readsandwrites @punkshort @jessthebaker

@mosssbawls

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pinkie-quinns · 6 months ago

Text

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to lovers | fame au p6 (final part)

p1 p2 p3 p4 p5 interlude

Steve thinks about second chances, as he walks along Greenwich Ave. He thinks about them when he tosses the wig in a garbage can that reeks of puke.

And he thinks about them, when Eddie opens the door, eyes catching on the rip in Steve’s jeans, the liner under his eyes. When he lights up & says, “You came.”

Yeah, Steve thinks about second chances.

He offers Eddie a small smile as he walks in, can’t bring himself to acknowledge it all. The world of them. Him going. Eddie playing that song. What that could mean, like, actually mean. Can’t do it yet.

He likes this place better than the mansion in LA. It’s messy and grungy with stupid, corny shit plastered on the walls. Feels more… Eddie.

They walk out to the balcony. It overlooks a tiny little green space, his neighbors’ homes. Eddie lights a cigarette and offers one to Steve. Steve quit years ago. Eddie knows that now. He takes it anyway.

“Last tour I sold out Madison Square Garden and now I sell out Forest Hills.” Eddie’s chuckling, “Like I’m back at the trailer park.”

Eddie’s third album didn’t do the numbers his first two had. So they’d downsized, just a little.

Steve sighs, he didn’t fly all the way out here to coddle his ex, “It was a good show, Eddie.”

“Yeah.” He drags, smiles to himself. “It was a really good show. I’m really glad you saw it, baby.”

Steve cringes, full body shiver. Eddie doesn’t seem to realize what he said, Steve’s sure as hell not gonna clue him in.

“How’d your meeting go?”

Steve tries to play it off. “Good. Pretty good.”

Eddie chuckles again, leans into him that way he always does, like personal space is more of a suggestion than a boundary. A hand brushes his cheek, a light, teasing tap of knuckles, “What’s pretty good, Harrington?”

Steve smiles into it. Can’t help it. “There’s uh… you know that blacklist script I mentioned last month? There’s probably a lead there for me.”

Eddie lights up again, bright and true, “Steve, that’s amazing.”

Steve snorts, “Not jealous?”

“Nah, I’m happy for you ba-” Eddie catches it this time, chokes on his drag, coughs and flounders, “Happy for you, man.”

Steve’s not sure if he can do this, actually. Can’t face this Eddie. The one whose ego isn’t a storm cloud, who’s okay failing, who’s okay seeing him succeed. Who’s honest and sincere and wants the best for him. Eddie who would lose thousands of fans just to sing Steve’s favorite song.

Eddie’s eyes are shiny, “But you’ve been good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Good. Keeping busy. I filmed an Amex commercial. Good money. Made my agents happy.” He’s rambling around it. He squints into the dark, drops it casually as he can muster. “I’m gonna start seeing that country singer, probably. The one with that Kansas song? Our people are setting something up.”

Eddie’s face falls, the sun out with a sentence. “What are we doing here, Harrington?”

Steve’s tone is bleary, sheepish, “What?”

“Been losing my mind this last month. Can’t stand not having you around. But you- you’re dating?”

It’s a shrug, it’s all he's got, “Sure.”

Eddie’s hunched, shoulders tight. He talks small. “You told me you loved me. Before you left.”

Steve huffs a breath. The air is cold. “C’mon. You were like, obliterating my brain with your dick. I say impulsive shit like that all the time.”

He doesn’t. They both know that.

Eddie clicks his teeth, shakes a whisper. “Nah. You don’t.”

Steve falters, trips on his tongue. He finds his voice low and hoarse, he can barely say it, “Please don’t hold me to it.”

Eddie won’t look him in the eye. He blinks up at the sky, “I love you. For the record. I um, I never stopped. Guess I’ve been pretty obvious about it.”

“Eddie, c’mon. Don’t do this. It’s not fair.”

“Date Dorothy.” His laugh is glacial. “I don’t mind. It won’t be real, right? Those things never fucking are.”

“I don’t know– it could be.” The ground’s falling under Steve’s feet. “Down the line, or whatever.”

Something cracks, crumples. “I had you. God fucking damnit. I had you and I–”

Steve’s not expecting the sobs until they happen. Flemmed and shaky and pathetic. Those brown eyes silver-wet like moons.

Eddie pushes his palms into his cheeks. “Sometimes, after you leave, I just stare up at the ceiling and try to invent like, time travel or something. Just to go back and slap the shit outta myself. I was a goddamn coward. Couldn’t face it. Could talk around it, sure. Write it into my songs like that was honest. But, nah, I couldn’t look in the mirror. Definitely couldn’t look at you. I’m facing it now. I need you to know that. It won’t fix all shit I did, won’t fix the stupid fucking way I tried to fix it the first time. It’s there, it’s out, hell, it’s goddamn double platinum.” He sputters it out miserable, “But I am trying. Even if this– if we can’t. Need you to know I’m facing it now. I want to be better.”

Then Eddie looks right at him, looks at Steve like looking is enough to break his heart. “And I don’t wanna be selfish anymore cause it’s poison, Steve. But fuck. I know I don’t deserve it but if you’ll have me, I’ll– I’m there. Whatever way you’ll take me.”

“Eddie.” Steve doesn’t know why he’s here. Why he keeps digging this wound, ripping out stitches.

“Please? Can’t walk away again. Don’t have it in me.”

“Yeah.” Steve laughs. “You only do that when it’s easy.”

Eddie flinches. Shoves a ringed hand into a pocket. “Too late, huh?”

Steve scratches the back of his head and turns on his heel, “We can’t keep doing this.”

He gets as far the kitchen. Eddie quicksteps in front of the counter, blocks his out. But he’s cowering, ducking his head. “Did you um, like the song?”

It swells up all at once, that bone-deep cruelty of it. A gust turned tsunami. “Not really, Ed. Kinda broke my fucking heart.”

“Shit,” Eddie clicks. “Yeah, I, um, I’m not all that good at the grand gesture thing. Probably should have figured that out by now.”

Steve lets it all in. The red that’s been thrumming through his body since this whole thing started. Lets it possess him. He pushes into Eddie’s space, callous and cruel. “You’re really fucking me up, here. Do you know that?”

“I– I’m not trying to.” Eddie blinks. Frustratingly earnest.

“What we’re doing– Whatever this is. It makes me feel pathetic. I’d be the dumbest asshole on the planet if I took you back.” He’s screaming now. The balcony door is still open. He doesn’t care if anyone hears. He wants them to hear.

Eddie’s lip is shaking. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” Steve murmurs. The red’s coming off in whisps, quicker than it ever had, easier than it should.

Eddie’s smile is weak. His face is wet. “I know.”

“You ruined me.” He leans in, finds half a punch in it. Last one he’s got.

Eddie closes his eyes, brow furrowed. “I know.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” He’s tired. Bone tired. Tired of the ache that only ever seems to go away around, well–

Eddie’s guilt is plain. It's all of him. “I’m sorry.”

Steve takes a breath. He thinks about second chances.

“You really want to be with me?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s already burrowed in. Ribs and guts and blood. “Got my priorities way out of whack for a minute there. Jesus, way too many minutes there. But yeah. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re it for me, Stevie.”

Steve groans, taps his forehead lightly against a shelf. Eddie’s hand lands steady at his arm, awkward and cautious and right. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No.” Eddie says soft. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.” Steve shakes his head. Waves a finger into Eddie’s chest. “You sang Dave fucking Matthews.”

“Don’t remind me, man. They’re gonna start shattering my CDs.” He pauses, sincere as ever. ‘I, uh, wouldn’t take it back though.”

Steve groans again, presses his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “No, you don’t get it. You sang Dave Matthews and now I’m gonna have to call my team and tell them it’s not gonna happen with the country singer.”

Eddie blubbers, big Saturday morning cartoon recalibration. “You’re– what?”

Steve shrugs, catches his eye. “Now I’m gonna have to talk about my coming out journey with Angie at People and dude, she’s been on my ass about it for years. Total sore winner.”

He’s shaking his head, “Harrington… Steve. Stevie.”

But Steve keeps rattling on, “I’m gonna have to tip off the paparazzi that Dark Pines star Steve Harrington was spotted sneaking into Eddie Munson’s brownstone at midnight for a secret rendezvous. Gonna have to go for a jog around the block first thing tomorrow, with like, more hickeys than a teen who just got their first girlfriend.”

“You’ve really thought about this, huh?”

Eddie’s back pushes into the edge of the kitchen counter. And Steve thinks about that photo that forced them together again, about Eddie’s easy grin, about the soft adoration high on his cheeks, about never being so young. He thinks about fucking up and growing up and growing apart and changing. And he smiles against chapped lips that taste like cigarettes and coming home.

And he says, “Gonna have to find someone to give me the hickeys.”

And Eddie lights up like the sun, “I know a guy.”

And Steve, well, he thinks about second chances.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #angst #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fanfic #twitter threads (but actually this is a tumblr exclusive atm)#fame au

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manikas-whims · 6 months ago

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Dad Xavier with twins (boy and girl)

i know there's a general consensus in the fandom with the LIs all being girl dads but idk guys..For Xavier, sometimes i see him as a girl dad but other times, he seems more like a boy dad. Then i said fuck it! Xavier is now father to twins 😌 hope y'all like these HCs ♡

⭐ Dad Xavier who gets emotional and teary-eyed at the first sight of his twin babies because he always felt like a wandering soul with nothing to call his own. Yet now, he has you, and you've given him these adorable babies..all of whom he can call his family.

⭐ Dad Xavier who uses his light evol to create adorable characters when narrating a bedtime story to the twins.

⭐ Dad Xavier who tells scary stories when trying to get the kids to fall asleep at the proper time (like he did in that one Secret Times with MC 🤭)

⭐ Dad Xavier who often himself tends to fall asleep while trying to get the kids to sleep 😆

⭐ Dad Xavier who regularly takes the kids to the arcade and wins them all the plushies they ask for from the Claw Machine.

⭐ Dad Xavier who has managed to teach the kids the names of certain stars, constellations and planets as well as taught them random space facts.

⭐ Dad Xavier who is calm and collected in his tone but his blue eyes seem to glow when scolding the kids. Even you shiver at the intensity of his piercing gaze.

⭐ Dad Xavier who is a master at all the video games but loses on purpose to watch his kids giggle and jump in delight at beating their Daddy at the games.

⭐ Dad Xavier who is as fiercely protective of his babies as he is when it comes to you. Will fight the world for them and for you.

⭐ Dad Xavier who hugs the kids to sleep when they have a nightmare or just a bad day in general.

⭐ Dad Xavier who isn’t particularly fond of the kids going anywhere near weapons but knows that it's essential for his kids to have self-defense skills. And thus, when the kids are of appropriate age, you two together train the kids in proper combat and a weapon of choice (we've seen Xavier's excellent swordplay and with Mountain Journey, that he's also amazing with a gun)

⭐ Dad Xavier who joins the twins for a midnight snack and tries his best to defend them from your scolding.

⭐ Dad Xavier who watches the twins favourite movies with them late at nights during the weekends.

⭐ Dad Xavier who let's the kids mess around his piano, even teaches them a few easy tunes.

⭐ Dad Xavier who teaches the kids all sorts of ballroom dancing, from Foxtrot to the Waltz. These sessions often end with him asking your hand, and two of you ending up slow dancing at your home in the late hours of the night.

⭐ Dad Xavier whose kids accidentally come across Mommy's stash of Lumiere merch, and end up watching some old commercials and content with you two. The twins later on stare at Xavier with sparkly eyes full of admiration and ask if their Daddy is secretly a superhero 🥺 (that night Xavier almost burns your entire stash of Lumiere merch).

another post that's been collecting dust in my drafts for so damned long..i’ll probably share one for each LI at some point 🤞

» MASTERLIST «

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koyagifs · 11 days ago

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── 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

pairing: mingi x f!reader au: 9th member | best friends to lovers | pre! poly | genre: fluff | word count: 2.3 k synopsis: how mingi entered the poly relationship with you and the others warning(s): timeline is set during wave era

You weren’t sure when it started exactly, but something about Mingi with that brown hair just did things to you. Dangerous things. Things that had your heart stuttering in your chest every time he walked past, all fluffy-haired and grinning like he didn’t know the chaos he was causing.

Of course, you already had it bad for all of them — you weren’t subtle about it, not with how close you were to Hongjoong and Wooyoung especially. They were your best friends, your safe space, your everything. And honestly, you were already dating them, so you thought you had things under control.

But then Mingi walked into the dorms, freshly back from the salon, light brown strands falling perfectly into place like he belonged in some dreamy commercial. He beamed at you the second he saw you, innocent and oblivious to the way your knees nearly buckled.

“Hey!” he greeted, all bright and bubbly, and you swore you saw sparkles around him.

Nope. Absolutely not. Danger.

You bolted. Without thinking twice, you practically sprinted down the hall, catching Hongjoong just as he was slipping on his jacket to head out to the studio. You nearly crashed into him, grabbing his sleeve in panic.

“Joong,” you gasped, breathless. “Help.”

His eyes widened, concern flashing across his features. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Mingi. Hair. Brown. Too powerful,” you sputtered, and Hongjoong’s lips curled into a knowing, slightly mischievous smile.

“Ah,” he hummed, nodding like he’d just solved a puzzle. “You’ve fallen harder, huh?”

You could only groan in response, burying your face in his chest as he laughed softly, wrapping an arm around you.

“It’s okay,” he teased gently. “I’ll protect you from the menace of Mingi’s devastating charm.”

You peeked up at him, pouting. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he grinned, though you both knew full well that when Mingi found you later, looking all flustered and wrecked by his new look, Hongjoong would be the first one to hand you over with a smirk.

Hongjoong was absolutely wicked. No, actually, he was evil. Cruel, even.

Your phone buzzed from where it lay next to you on the bed, screen lighting up with a message from the group chat. You were still recovering from earlier — still half-buried in the comfort of your pillow, trying to will away the image of Mingi’s stupidly perfect light brown hair.

But curiosity got the better of you. You reached over, flipped the phone, and immediately regretted it.

joongie bug: You and Mingi should be the first ones to record for the new album. Get that chemistry into the track early 😉

You stared at the message, your eyes wide in horror. Your jaw dropped. Your soul left your body.

“Hongjoong,” you gasped out loud, like saying his name might summon him to take it back. But no — you were met only with the echo of your own despair, and the cruel, cruel sound of another buzz:

joongie bug : Don’t be shy~ it’ll be good practice 😌

Your whole body went stiff. You let out an agonized noise, somewhere between a squeal and a scream, and immediately shoved your face into your pillow to muffle it.

“Aaarrghhh—!”

You kicked your legs uselessly against the mattress, thrashing in embarrassment while your pillow absorbed your scream of defeat. Of doom.

Of course, Hongjoong only made it worse by sending another message.

joongie bug: And smile for me when you see him 😏

You were going to combust. No, actually, you were going to wither away into a flustered mess before the recording session even started. And knowing Hongjoong, he’d probably have the audacity to play back the recordings later just to tease you about how breathless you sounded whenever Mingi got too close to the mic.

Your phone buzzed again, and you barely dared to peek. This time, it was Mingi himself.

minni min: Hehe, looks like we’re up first! I’m excited 🥰

You let out another muffled scream into your pillow. You were doomed.

You tried so hard not to stare. But how could you not?

There he was — Mingi, in the booth, headphones snug over his ears, eyes half-lidded in focus as he ran through his lines. His light brown hair fell in soft waves over his forehead, catching the studio lights just right, like it was staged. Like the universe itself was out to ruin you.

You thought you were being subtle when you glanced at him through the glass. Thought you could get away with a quick peek. Wrong.

Your gaze lingered too long on the way his lips moved around the words. The little breath he took between lines. The way he bounced a little on his heels, hyping himself up between takes like he always did — except this time it felt... different. It felt criminal.

Your cheeks burned, and you immediately averted your eyes, snapping them toward the only safe place you could think of: Hongjoong.

He was bobbing his head to the beat, arms crossed, lips curled in an approving little smirk. You could tell he was genuinely proud of Mingi's delivery, but you also caught the sly glint in his eyes when they flicked toward you.

Hongjoong's smirk deepened, knowingly.

You pressed your lips into a tight line, hoping to mask the shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, but it was no use. He knew. He always knew.

Leaning toward you slightly, Hongjoong lowered his voice so that only you could hear over the monitor feed.

“He sounds good, huh?” he teased, his tone dripping with innocent mischief.

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart skip a beat. You didn’t trust your voice to answer, so you just nodded, eyes fixed anywhere but Mingi now.

“Don’t be so shy,” Hongjoong continued, almost purring at this point. “You’ll be in there with him soon.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The reminder sent a flurry of nervous butterflies straight to your chest.

As if on cue, Mingi finished his take, and his gaze immediately shifted through the glass — searching. Finding you. His lips curled into a bright, boyish grin as he gave you a little wave, oblivious to the way your heart absolutely catapulted into your throat.

You waved back, awkward and small, and Hongjoong — of course — snickered.

“Yah,” you muttered, cheeks aflame, giving Hongjoong a light shove.

But he just laughed, fully enjoying himself.

“You’re so doomed,” he whispered, and with a wink, he reached over to hit the intercom button.

“Alright, Mingi! Great take,” Hongjoong called out. “Yn’s turn — you’re up together now.”

You froze. Mingi’s grin widened.

“Yessss!” he cheered through the booth mic. “Let’s go, Yn-ie!”

And just like that, your heart did a backflip.

Your fingers brushed against Mingi’s as you reached for the extra set of headphones, and you swore you felt a spark shoot straight up your arm. Stupid electricity. Stupid butterflies. Stupid Mingi and his bright, eager grin.

“Here,” he said softly, voice warmer than the studio lights overhead. “Let me help.”

Before you could protest, he was already adjusting the headphones for you, settling them over your ears with surprising gentleness. His fingertips barely grazed your temple, but it was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. You were certain he could hear it, too, because his eyes sparkled with amusement — or maybe something else entirely.

“There,” he murmured, satisfied. “Perfect.”

You managed a small, nervous smile in return, watching as he lowered the shared microphone between the two of you. He angled it just right, glancing at you to make sure you were comfortable before giving a tiny nod of approval.

Through the glass, you saw Hongjoong still watching — still smirking — as he cued up the track. His eyes said it all: I’m enjoying this way too much.

" hey, i'm going to the bathroom real quick, i'll be right back," Hongjoong spoke, both you and Mingi giving him a thumbs up as you hit pause on the music after hearing your lines.

"Yn... are you avoiding me?"

You froze, fingers still hovering over the pause button. The air in the booth felt heavier, like the moment Hongjoong left, the oxygen had thinned out.

Mingi wasn’t looking at you — not fully. He was fumbling with the headset, turning it over and over in his hands like it held the answer he was looking for.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. You could’ve lied. You could’ve laughed it off, teased him the way you always did. But something about the way Mingi’s eyes finally met yours — wide, searching, a little too earnest — made the truth catch in your throat.

"I..." you started, but your voice wobbled. You cleared your throat, trying again. "I’m not avoiding you," you said, but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

His brows pulled together, gaze softening but sharpening at the same time, like he saw right through you. "Then why does it feel like you are?" The headset in his hands stilled. His grip on it tightened, knuckles paling. "Did I do something wrong?"

The question cracked something in you.

"No!" you blurted, maybe a little too fast. His eyes flickered at the urgency in your tone. "No, Mingi, you didn’t— it’s not that, I swear."

"Then what is it?" His voice was a threadbare whisper now, barely holding together. He swallowed hard, like the words hurt more coming out than keeping them in. "Because if I’m honest, Yn… it’s driving me crazy."

Your chest tightened. His honesty felt like a punch and a balm at once.

"I just..." you hesitated, looking away, eyes falling to where his fingers were still gripping the headset. "It’s me," you admitted. "It’s stupid, but... being around you lately feels like I’m walking on a tightrope. I keep thinking you’ll notice how I—" You stopped yourself.

Mingi’s eyes never left yours, but something in them shifted. "How you what?" he asked, voice dipping lower, rougher.

Your breath caught. "—How I feel," you finished, barely above a whisper.

Silence stretched between you, taut and trembling. Mingi’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. Slowly, carefully, he set the headset down on the console, like he didn’t trust himself to hold anything just then.

"Yn," he said your name like a promise, like a secret only he knew. "You really think I haven’t noticed?"

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, and in that moment, it felt like the whole studio disappeared — the lights, the glass, even the distant hum of the track you’d just paused.

"It’s not one-sided," he added softly, with a breath of nervous laughter. "Not even close."

You gulped, " and you're okay with ... "

Mingi nodded his head, " i'm in love with you...even if it means sharing with the two short members,"

You giggled, shoving mingi who dramatically leaned away.

He caught himself on the edge of the table, laughing along with you. "But seriously," Mingi continued, his tone a little more sincere beneath the teasing smile, "if it means I get to love you — even with them — I'll take it. Happily."

Your heart twisted in your chest, warmth spreading through you like wildfire. "Mingi..." you murmured, the weight of his confession settling in the space between you.

Before you could say anything more, he leaned in, just a little, eyes flicking to your lips and then back to your eyes. "Unless you don't want me to?" he added, voice suddenly shy.

The teasing spark was still there, but beneath it, real vulnerability peeked through.

Your answer came naturally, your smile soft and real. "Of course I want you to," you whispered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mingi's face lit up instantly, a grin stretching across his lips. "Good," he beamed, " because i'm terrified of hongjoong hyung and i didn't want to face him."

Your laughter bubbled out, bright and genuine, but you caught a glimpse of movement behind Mingi — and your eyes widened just as Mingi continued, completely oblivious.

"I mean, can you imagine? He’d probably make me run laps around the dorm or make me write an essay on why I shouldn’t fall for you," Mingi kept going, animated, with his signature playful dramatics. He even mimed running laps with his hands.

Your lips pressed together to stifle your growing smile, but it was too late — Mingi noticed your expression shift.

"...Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, a little slower, brows drawing together.

You pointed subtly over his shoulder, trying to keep a straight face. "Because Hongjoong’s standing right behind you."

Mingi froze. Slowly, like in a cartoon, he turned around, headset still hanging around his neck.

There was Hongjoong. Arms crossed. Head tilted slightly to the side. That trademark mischievous smirk playing at his lips.

"An essay, huh?" Hongjoong drawled, eyes glinting with amusement. "How many words were you thinking, Mingi?"

Mingi audibly gulped, then laughed nervously. "Um... three?" He held up his fingers. "I love Yn?"

Hongjoong’s smirk softened just a little, the fondness slipping through his teasing mask. "Hm. Not bad," he said, stepping into the booth fully now, arms uncrossing. "But actions speak louder than words."

Your heart thudded in your chest at the implication, eyes darting between the two of them.

Then Hongjoong's gaze landed on you, warm and knowing. "Looks like we’re overdue for a serious talk, huh?"

Mingi looked back at you, a hopeful grin tugging at his lips, then back at Hongjoong. "Can it wait until after we finish the recording?" he asked, almost sheepishly.

Hongjoong chuckled under his breath. "Of course. I want to get this done. And then..." He glanced at you again, a glimmer of something teasing in his gaze. "We’ll sort out... everything else."

Your cheeks burned, but you smiled — heart full, flustered, and so very, very excited.

#9th member ateez #9th member of ateez #ateez 9th member #ateez x reader #── ateez: poly

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plsupreme · 6 months ago

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goldenempyrean · 1 year ago

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An Icy Plunge

〚 Notes - Life's been busy! New job, exams, writers block (only for sickfics too which is beyond annoying) but here's a little something which I thought of while rewatching BlackWidow an hour or so ago - I did sob at the end credits of course.. 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - As a result of falling into the icy Norwegian waters, Nat ends up getting sick as you two make your way to Budapest. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1400 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“I told you we should’ve tried to get you warmed up properly.” You sighed quietly, more to yourself then anything as Nat sniffled softly. Her head resting on your shoulder as the pair of you sat at the back of a crowded train carriage.

It had been almost 2 days since both you and Natasha were ambushed by an unknown person on your drive into town. Nat had taken the brunt of their attack, in turn, getting herself kicked off a bridge, plunging down into the icy Nordic waters below.

She was fine for the most part, only a handful of bruises which all things considered, she got away pretty lucky. But there’d been a picture attached to the glowing band of red vials that she’d stashed in her pockets and by the time you had made your way down to the riverside to help her out of the water, Nat had already come up with a plan.

You were going to Budapest.

You hadn’t wanted to pry too much; she had told you it had something to do with her sister, but you didn’t know all the exact details – you still had some questions. All you knew was that Budapest was the place Nat thought she’d get the answers to her own questions, so that was where you were going.

With both yourself and Natasha being global fugitives, getting to Budapest wasn’t as simple as hopping on board the first commercial plane. You were going to have to do this the hard way. It had taken almost half an hour to walk your way to the nearest town from the river, by the time you arrived, Nat was shivering helplessly beside you.

The temperate was already in the low minuses as it was, but that icy water must’ve been excruciatingly cold. Even with your jacket draped over her, it was clear to see she was freezing.

“Do you think we should stay in a hostel or something for the night? You’ll get hypothermia if you stay in those clothes. We can leave at first light.” You had offered as the two of you made your way deeper into the town, passing by a small convenience store.

Natasha seemed to debate your offer, nodding her head after a moment as she fought back another shiver, “Yeah, that’s probably best.” She agreed, before looking around and pointing to a charity shop in the distance, “They’ll sell clothes in there, can you go get us a bed?” She asked, nodding back at an inn you’d walked past earlier.

You agreed with Natasha's plan, and she headed towards the shop while you made your way to the inn. The place seemed quaint from the outside, but you couldn't shake the feeling that it might be a little too rustic for comfort. However, beggars couldn't be choosers, and you hoped it would at least provide a warm bed for the night.

The innkeeper was a gruff-looking man who eyed you suspiciously as you inquired about a room for the night. "We got a room, but don't expect any luxury here. No hot water tonight, and the heating is barely working," he warned.

Well, you had a bed atleast.

The innkeeper handed you a key, and you made your way up the creaky staircase to find your room. The space was small and dimly lit, with a single window covered by thin curtains that did little to keep out the harsh cold.

You had a double bed so that was a positive you’d supposed. It was honestly comical the amount of times you and Nat had to share a small single bed together, but it wasn’t like you minded that anyway. Talking of Nat, she’d only been 10 minutes or so behind. Shuffling into the room with some rough but warmer looking clothes bundled under her arm.

“Get what you needed love?” You asked, as she began to strip out of her soaked clothes.

“The pants aren't exactly my style, but they’ll be better than these,” She sighed, taking her new clothes and heading into the tiny attached bathroom, “I’ll try hang these wet ones to dry.”

When she came out, she looked more like herself, although the lingering chill was still evident in her eyes. "I could really use a hot shower right about now." she mumbled, rubbing her pale hands together in an attempt to generate some warmth.

"Sorry about that," you apologised sympathetically, "The guy at the desk mentioned there's no hot water tonight. I can go check out town a little to see if there’s anywhere, you’d be able to get one, clothes can only do so much to warm you up."

She shook her head, “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” Natasha sighed, but she didn't complain. Instead, she walked over to the bed and crawled under the covers, fully dressed. You joined her, wrapping your arms around her to share body heat. The cold from the room made the close contact comforting rather than stifling.

The night passed with the two of you huddled together for warmth. The room, despite its lack of amenities, did provide some respite from the biting cold outside. The next morning, you awoke to the soft light filtering through the thin curtains and the sound of Natasha stirring beside you.

"Morning," you greeted, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Natasha groaned in response, her voice sounding hoarse and congested. "Morning,"

Your brow creased in worry at the sound of her voice, “You don’t sound too good honey, I knew we should’ve gotten you into a hot shower.” Your hand came to cup her face, your thumb drawing soft circles on her subtly flushed cheeks.

Natasha shifted uncomfortably, her hand reaching up to touch her forehead. "I'll be fine," She tried to offer a weak smile but was quickly replaced by a damp sneeze. It’s probably just a little cold. Besides, we can't afford to stay here too long anyway. We need to get to Budapest," she insisted

Despite Natasha's insistence that she would be fine, it was clear that she wasn't in the best shape. She sniffled and shivered under the covers; her body temperature higher than it should be. Still, she pushed herself to get up.

"I'll be alright," she reassured you, her voice wavering slightly. "Let's get going. We can't afford to waste any more time."

You reluctantly agreed, helping her gather her things and head downstairs. The innkeeper gave you both a sceptical look as you settled the bill, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not being able to pay for a more comfortable stay. Nevertheless, you and Natasha made your way to the bus station, where you boarded a bus bound for the nearest train station.

The bus had dropped you off at a larger town where you had to transfer to a train. The train station was bustling with people all rushing about, and you held Nat’s hand as the pair of you navigated through the crowds before coming to a ticket stand where you both bought tickets to take you to the border, from there you’d have to take a ferry to get into mainland Europe then another 2 or 3 trains to finally arrive in Budapest. It wasn’t a direct journey by any means, the several stops, long distances and changes meant it was going to take a few days to get there at the minimum.

This had led you to where you were now. A couple hours or so into your long journey to the border with Nat resting on your shoulder, small stuffy breaths coming from her parted lips.

She sneezed suddenly, a sharp sound that seemed to startle even herself. She looked at you with a mix of surprise and irritation, as if the sneeze had betrayed her.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Bless you," you said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. The skin felt warm against your lips, and you couldn't ignore the worry gnawing at you. Natasha sighed, leaning into your touch for a moment.

"Thanks," she mumbled, her voice still raspy. "I hate being sick."

"I know, love," you replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Once we get to the border, we'll find a pharmacy or something but for now just try to catch up on some sleep, okay?”

“We’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @citrussnz @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets @sashawalker2 @natashamaximoff69 @observeowl @beholdagaywriter @widows201@llovergirleraa @danveration @idkeithershawty @rainedontknow @poison-blackheart @loveshineslikethesky @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @ahintofchaos @scarlettssub @paisley-yy @wandanats-goodgirl @nuianced-tck-enby @maomaoincomming @anne-lister

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #sickfic #fluff #whump #comfort #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff sickfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff comfort

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 months ago

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It's a Wonderful Knife AU (Supercorp)

It's a Wonderful Knife is about a girl who, one christmas eve, witnesses and ultimately kills a spree killer (aka The Angel), who kills her best friend and a couple other kids. Once dead, the killer is revealed to be none other than Morgan Edge, the local sleaze who'd been trying to commercialize the small town of Angel Falls.

A year later, the following Christmas sees her clinically (yet untreated) depressed, unaccepted to her dream college, and overlooked by her family in favor of her cousin (who she saved the night of the killings). When she discovers her boyfriend has been cheating on her for the entire year, it's the final straw.

On her way home, she looks up to see the Northern Lights. As if they were a wishing star, she gives voice to the heaviness that has been growing in her since that fateful night.

"I wish I never existed."

She blinks, and suddenly the lights around her are dark, the previously festive boulevard now shadowed and eerie. Immediately on edge, she approaches a man to ask if the power went out-- only for him to collapse as he turns towards her, a knife in his gullet.

The Angel then appears like a ghost. Kara screams, running for help. She eventually runs into the local sheriff-- one of Edge's right hand men. Who definitely wasn't sheriff, last she checked. The oddities keep adding up, as she learns that not only is The Angel alive, he's been active for a full year. Her family home is dark and grieving for a lost scion-- her cousin who died the christmas before, because Kara hadn't been there to save him.

Kara isn't in any of the family portraits, her family doesn't recognize her, nor do her former friends when she tracks them down at the annual get-wrecked holiday party. In the absence of all that's familiar, she turns to the relatively unknown-- the local weirdo.

"Weirdo" is the slender goth girl who hangs around the periphery of their age group, appearing at large events without anyone seeming to invite her. This year she has her hair in space buns and though she says nothing as Kara frantically pleads for anyone to recognize her, her sharp green eyes take everything in. So when Kara finally turns to her, and their gazes meet, Kara feels a tinge of relief.

"You know who I am?"

The weirdo gives a nervous little smile, but doesn't balk. "Hi. I mean, no. I mean. I'm Lena?"

Lena's mere act of not ignoring her almost brings Kara to tears. She unloads everything onto the poor girl, who listens with wide eyes and a slightly bewildered look. But when Kara mentions The Angel, Lena perks up.

"You want to stop The Angel?"

"What?" Kara asks. Out of everything she's said, that's what the weirdo locks onto? "Yeah, but--"

"Come with me," Lena says quickly. She grabs Kara's hand and pulls her away from the party, out the door and across town. They don't stop until Lena tugs her up the front walk of a house with darkened windows. Unlocking the front door, Lena leads Kara inside the empty house.

Kara frowns. "Are you always alone on christmas?"

Lena's cheeks flush, but instead of answering she makes her way deeper in the house. "I want to show you something."

When Kara steps into Lena's bedroom, she's shocked to see one whole wall serving as a murder board-- literally. Thumbtacks mark the location of known murders on a large map of the city, with notecards detailing facts of each victim.

"Most of them are teenagers related to business owners in the town," Lena tells her. "Well, mostly former owners, now."

"It's Edge," Kara states bluntly. "He's The Angel. He's the one doing the killings."

Instead of dismissing her outright, or asking how Kara knows, Lena's brow furrows. She studies her board thoughtfully.

"Most of the families who've lost children to the attacks have closed up and left town... Edge, he--" Lena's eyes widen. "He's acquired every single one of them!" She mutters a curse to herself. "I can't believe I didn't see it!"

Before long, Lena is also hypothesizing on the how of Kara's circumstances. Kara relates the glowing aurora that still lingers above the town, and Lena gives a thoughtful hum.

"It's unusual to see it this far south," she observes. "It could be related, or it could be complete meteorological happenstance. But... the aurora does generate via a confluence of fluctuating solar energy. What if-- and I can't believe I'm about to say this, but-- what if, when Edge died in your reality, his spirit... lingered? And if it did, perhaps his ill intent, combined with the energy of the aurora, facilitated the change?"

Kara goggles at her. Lena blushes again, and scrambles to fill the stunned silence. "Of course, that's assuming this is a matter of different realities, which are purely hypothetical and I am *not* saying are real, let alone suggesting travel between them is even a feasible concept--"

"I had no idea you were so smart," Kara says bluntly.

Lena freezes, eyes flashing up to meeting Kara's. Her blush deepens as she reaches up to tuck the flyaway hairs at her temples behind her ears.

"There's a lot people don't know about me," Lena says softly.

Guilt forms solid and heavy in Kara's belly. "I'm sorry," she says. "For how people have-- how I've treated you."

Lena shrugs. "It's--"

"Please don't say it's okay," Kara urges, leaning forward intently. "You've just... existed, and we've acted like..."

Holding Kara's gaze, Lena's arrest softens. "Maybe things would be different, if you'd been here."

Shame courses through Kara's body, but she refuses to voice the knowledge that even in her reality, while never cruel to the weird girl in the corner, she'd never been kind.

"It will be," she says instead, firmly. She offers a crooked grin. "After all, who's George Bailey without her Clarence?"

Lena beams, a bright laugh bubbling out of her. Kara's smile grows, and for a moment, the world doesn't seem so grim.

---

The solution in returning the world to its rightful place is clear. They kill The Angel, Kara goes home. But before they can decide just how to execute their plan, Kara gives in to her desire to see her family. For help, maybe, to help them in their grief for Clark, she isnt quite sure.

When they get there, they find Kara's uncle in his office. Seeing his despondency, Kara can't help but reach out to him. She tells him she's a friend of Clark's and they spend the next few minutes reminiscing about some of Clark's most memorable moments-- his football career, the time he saved an elderly neighbor's life, etc.

But when Kara tells her uncle that she knows who killed Clark, their reverie snaps back to reality. Her uncle grows cold, and when Kara tells him it was Morgan Edge, she learns that this version of her uncle not only works for Edge, but considers Edge to be a close friend-- one who paid for Clark's funeral.

He shouts at her to get out of his house, and Kara bolts, with Lena following on her heels. Once outside, Kara bursts into tears. Lena envelops her in a fierce embrace, holding her until her sobs subside.

"We'll fix this, I promise," Lena says. "We'll fix-- augh!"

Lena's cry of pain jolts Kara into a state of panic, when the source of the long slice in Lena's arm proves to be The Angel. They bolt for safety, and in the ensuing chase Lena devises a plan that has them splitting up. The Angel chases Kara, leaving Lena to loop back around behind him and shove him sprawling into the snow. Kara grapples him for the knife, and as soon as it's in her hands she plunges it deep into Edge's throat.

Except it's not Edge.

When they remove their would-be killer's mask, it exposes instead the face of Kara's uncle. Kara vomits, then wraps her arms around herself as the sobs return.

"I don't understand," she wretches. "It-- it was supposed to be Edge."

"I don't know," Lena murmurs, rubbing her hand against Kara's back. "But it doesn't matter. That isn't your uncle. This isn't real, not for you. And you did it. You got the killer. Now we can get you back to your real family."

Lena supports Kara to the boulevard where the shift first manifested. Once there, Kara offers a watery smile. "Thank you," she whispers. "I don't know-- I don't think I could have done this without you."

Green eyes gaze at her, warm and sparkling in the light if the aurora overhead. "I should be the one thanking you," comes the hoarse reply. "To be honest, I--"

When sudden emotion chokes Lena's voice, Kara reaches out in concern. Lena swipes at the tears gathering in her eyes.

"I'm okay. I just-- this was going to be my last christmas, Kara."

Kara blinks. It takes a long moment for her to connect the words to their meaning, and when she does, her heart lurches.

"Lena, no--"

"It wouldn't have mattered," Lena whispers. "Not to my family, or the kids at school. Not to anybody."

"Yes, it would, Lena. *You* matter."

Lena nods, tears falling free from her eyelashes. "I think maybe we got it all backwards," she says, huffing a soft laugh. "I wasn't your Clarence after all. You were mine all along."

They hug, and then it's time. Kara looks up at the aurora and wishes with all her might that she lived, that she existed. She wishes for her life back. Not just to have her family back, to have Clark and her uncle, but to have Lena too.

Nothing happens.

It doesn't matter how much she wishes, then pleads, then curses at the universe-- the world stays exactly as it is.

Kara stares helplessly at Lena, who can only shake her head. "I don't know," she says. "I don't know--"

She's interrupted by the squawk of a microphone coming to life in the nearby square. The voice of Morgan Edge soon follows, drawing them both to the periphery of the crowd gathered around the stage where Edge stands before the town's christmas tree.

Rage overcomes Kara at the sight of him. She pushes through the crowd towards the stage, only vaguely aware of Lena following close behind lest the crowd separate them. Before she knows what she's doing Kara vaults onto the stage and slugs Edge right in the face.

As his henchmen move to wrestle Kara away from her victim, Lena spies a familiar looking knife lying the podium-- The Angel's knife. Her gaze flicks to where Edge marches towards a restrained Kara with rage in his eyes. The decision she makes in that moment is hardly a decision at all.

She snatches the knife from the podium and slits Edge's throat from behind. Her only regret is that it showers a surprised Kara with arterial spray. For a moment they, the guards, and the gathered crowd all stare frozen at Edge's gurgling body, until it finally falls quiet.

Then, a clap issues from the crowd. A single person, clapping slow and deliberate until it grows into raucous applause. The guards reach for Lena, only for the townsfolk to intervene, giving Lena and Kara the opportunity to slip unseen from the mayhem.

They sprint to the boulevard, coming to a breathless stop under the rippling aurora that's slowly brightening.

"Go," Lena urges. "Now, before--"

Kara kisses her soundly. Her world becomes the feel of Lena's lips against hers, the scent of blood thick between them, and the pull of Lena's arms as they wrap around her neck--

She opens her eyes to the ceiling of her bedroom.

Morning light spills in through the windows, illuminating the world in warm relief. Kara bolts downstairs to find her family hale and whole, and nearly loses herself in the sweeping joy of her life returned-- until Lena's features flash across her mind. Lena's features, and the echo of Lena's murmured confession: "this was going to be my last christmas."

In a instant she's back on her feet and sprinting to Lena's house. She pounds on the door until it opens a crack for Lena to look warily out.

"What do you want?"

Kara's heart plummets, but she forges ahead without stopping. "Lena, this is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me, because it was real, and you were there, and whatever you're planning *please* don't--"

The door opens further, revealing Lena in a cozy sweater with a puckish glint in her eye.

Kara stops short, hardly daring to believe. "You... you remember?"

Lena answering smile beams in affirmation, prompting Kara to sweep her up into a giant twirling hug. Lena squeals, but it ends with a delighted giggle.

"I love you," Kara says, kissing Lena. Their hands clutch together, holding tight as though the world might reset and tear them apart once more.

Lena smiles, sighing happily as she rests her forehead against Kara's.

"Merry Christmas, Kara."

#supercorp #wonderful knife au #here it is #if i had more time to marinate this #i would have changed some things #but this is quick and dirty #and the shippy bits are there #thats what truly matters

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400badrequest · 1 month ago

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Captain Money | John Price x F!Reader

SUMMARY: "It goes like this: Corporal Samuels - Sammie - a spunky blonde lesbian who has at least 15 clear plastic space holder piercings in at once (and we’re not just talking about ears here), spends a week on 141’s service. She’s not much more than a desk jockey for them, but Samuels starts sending photos to the girls’ group chat. Hidden ones - mostly of Sergeant McTavish eating shit and landing on his face, Lieutenant Riley at stupid angles that made him look like a thumb because of his stupid mask and Sergeant Garrick drooling on paperwork. And so, a tradition is born. There’s no prize, but whoever takes the stupidest photo wins. Wins what? Who knows."

WORD COUNT: 5K

cw: mild stalking (from reader), drinking

Crossposted on AO3. Insp by @abc-ok artwork here

There’s an ongoing joke amongst you and the other female recruits. It has a fair amount of tangled lore; spanning a lot of stupid drunken shenanigans, a busted humvee that’s hidden under a tarp at the back of the massive base garage and a group chat - that for all intent and purposes - is probably illegal to exist.

But it goes like this: Corporal Samuels - Sammie - a spunky blonde lesbian who has at least 15 clear plastic space holder piercings in at once (and we’re not just talking about ears here), spends a week on 141’s service. She’s not much more than a desk jockey for them, but Samuels starts sending photos to the girls’ group chat. Hidden ones - mostly of Sergeant McTavish eating shit and landing on his face, Lieutenant Riley at stupid angles that made him look like a thumb because of his stupid mask and Sergeant Garrick drooling on paperwork. And so, a tradition is born. There’s no prize, but whoever takes the stupidest photo wins. Wins what? Who knows.

But suddenly, it shifts. It starts with one photo - of Captain Price, taken by Corporal Ainsley. It’s probably a million degrees out, hot enough that there’s a mirage shimmering in the background. It’s shin up and despite the slight blur it's focused pretty well. He’s drenched in sweat, bare chest and beefy arms slick with it. All of him is covered in a thick dusting of dark hair that’s sticking to him from the heat. But that’s not the best bit; no, the best bit is that the only two scraps of clothing on him is a fucking jockstrap and his stupid hat. It hides absolutely nothing. His cock is flaccid, but the bulge is round and heavy. There’s two thigh straps pulled tight, the muscle squished to hold them, and a tact belt too, along with shoulder straps for what would be a concealed carry that outlines his large arms. The dark watch doesn’t help either. There’s a glock held comfortably in his right hand, and he’s standing casually, as if he’s not basically buck naked. Price is looking off, most likely listening to someone talk.

And from there on, the chat is called “CAPTAIN MONEYYY”.

As the corporals on the same base as 141, it’s not hard to sneak photos of him. Well… it’s hard because he’s vigilant and a bloody highly trained soldier, but you’re a group of women who grew up in the era of sneaking phones in class and zoom capabilities on commercial phones have gotten considerably better since you were using a shitty flip phone back in year 7.

You were almost notoriously good - it helped you had a bit of an eye for it too. It wasn’t as all your shots were art, but deciding to splurge for an olympus xa2 definitely upped your game. It wasn’t even about Price at this point; it was about being the best. The olympus xa2 was light weight, small enough to hide in the breast pocket of your fatigues and didn’t make a single noise, even when you wound it - except for the tiniest little click when you took a photo. It was so silent that you struggled to hear it over a single conversation. It being film meant that every Monday morning you’d upload a week's worth of photos of Price to the group chat - it’d become a bit of an event.

What the groupchat didn’t know was that you kept all the physicals - in a small shoebox tucked in the very back of your closet. It was definitely tipping into stalker territory if you thought too hard about it, but… no one knew.

“Here,” Samuels says, sliding you what looks like a… vodka redbull? The bar is bustling, you and the other female recruits crowded into a small booth. A few of them have disappeared - either to get laid, or piss; it didn’t matter so long as they were in pairs. Samuels takes a seat on your lap, and you instinctively slide an arm around her waist to hold her there. She’s taller than and generally larger than most of the women, but you’re stronger. You sip at your drink, twirling the straw in your mouth.

“Is that NSYNC?” Ainsley asks, tucking a dark curl behind her ear. She’s a small bright Scot, a few years younger than you, but faster with a knife than most. “Baby bye, bye, bye!” She sings along to whatevers playing over the din, and you have to bite back a laugh at her heavy Galsweian accent. It smells like salt, sweat and beer in here and you roll your eyes as she blows cigarette smoke across the table.

“That’s a disgusting habit Ains, and you know it,” you reply, nicking the cigarette and taking a puff before handing it back. The tipping paper is sticky with a myriad of shades of red lipsticks, glinting with lip gloss.

“What, singing?”Ainsley asks, brow furrowed.

“No, smoking,” Sammie corrects with a tipsy laugh. “They’re being a little hypocrite,” she smirks, scooching back to be comfortable. You grunt, readjusting her weight.

“I only socially smoke,” You say with a roll of your eyes, but you don't go to shuffle her off your lap, despite their being sitting space when a few of the girls get up to commandeer a pool table.

Ains and Sammie trade silly barbs for a while, while you tap your foot along to the beat of whatever divorced dad rock plays over the speakers. “It’s Green Day, actually,” you add aimlessly to the conversation as you scan the crowd absentmindedly - for what you’re not sure.

Until you spot him.

Price is lent up against the bar - a casual dried grass green coloured button down that was faded at the collar, sleeves rolled up, faded boot cut jeans and Timberlands on. You can see the jut of a concealed carry, almost completely hidden under his shirt. The warm bright lighting from behind the bar slides over him like water as he stands at an angle, hair slightly longer than you’ve ever seen but still sticking up. Price’s beard is shorter than usual and less mutton chops and more actual full beard. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he talks to the bartender - he’s distracted enough that you slide out your small camera without a second thought and there unheard click happens as you capture a casual Price. John. You capture a photo of John, and it almost makes you dizzy as you bring the tiny camera down.

“This spot taken?”

You startle, both Ainsley and Samuels shutting up as Sergeant Garrick smiles at the three of you. The camera slides easily into your pocket, unseen. “Uh, not at all,” you reply, and Ainsley shuffles so she’s pressed up against you. 141 slides into the booth - Garrick, McTavish and then Riley. Sammie - being the extrovert she is, immediately pulls the sergeants (“we’re off duty, drop the titles, please.”) into some colourful conversation about 90s pop music that Ghost adds to, in a way that always causes some form of loud outrage.

Eventually, Price slides in next to Ghost, directly across from you with a tray of drinks. Two beers, one whiskey and a coke. He gives you a small smile when the boys grab their drinks. It feels like the camera is burning in your pocket, and you resist the urge to touch it. You sip aimlessly at your own as the conversation shifts, more to sharing stories about missions that won’t get you in proper trouble. At one point you have to pinch Ainsley under the table when she starts to mention a certain humvee - you might be hanging out now, but they’re still your superiors.

You rest your chin hooked on Sammie’s shoulder, idly contributing to the conversation, but generally keep your gaze on the crowd - scanning around at the other women, making sure that there’s nothing but comfortable smiles on their faces. It’s an old habit from your uni days, being the group fighter (in both D&D and real life, always ready to smack down any woman) meant you also were preventing fights too. A good skill was knowing when to run away - pride was counterproductive.

Eventually your eyes slide to the group. Even in your slightly tipsy state, you can see Soap is poorly trying to steal Ghost’s coke, that Gaz has an arm stretched behind Anisely’s part of the booth, worn leather creased under his arm. You meet his eyes and quirk an eyebrow - he shoots you a cheeky grin. Price is chatting idly with Ghost, a small smirk on his face at whatever Riley is saying. His forearms look deliciously thick, sleeves straining a little around his shoulders. Whorls of dark hair peek out of the front of his shirt where the first few buttons are undone, a thin sheen of sweat on him from the heat of the bar. You want to lick it off him. Would he taste a little smoky? Faintly like soap? Or just like salty skin? The ice in your drink has melted, condensation wet on your fingers - would he like the cold touch of your fingers on his hot skin?

A loud laugh from Sammie snaps you from your day dream and when you look up, you realise Ghost is staring at you, gaze piercing. You force yourself not to flick your eyes away from him in the embarrassment of being caught staring at his Captain, but instead wiggle your eyebrows with a cheeky grin - his shoulders hitch a little as he huffs a small laugh.

“Ew, cmon,” Sammie bitches as you smear the cold wetness on her exposed midriff. “That’s gross,” she grouses, trying to wriggle away.

“It’s condensation, idiot,” you say with a laugh, eyes creasing with a smile.

“So how long’ve you two been together?” Soap asks as you press your cheek to her shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist.

“Oh we’re not- no that’s not-” Sammie says through a laugh, and Ains chokes on her drink. You slap her back until she stops, batting your hand away. “Jesus Ains,” you say, cupping the back of her head with one hand, gently pressing your mostly melted ice drink to her lips, getting her to slowly swallow it. “Good girl,” you say softly as she settles. “Solid?” “Solid,” she replies, taking your glass.

“We’re not together,” you clarify, turning back to Soap, while snaking an arm back around Sammies’ waist. “Samuels is just a clingy puppy at any given time.” You pause, realising all four of the men are staring at you with looks varying from hot to startled. “What?”

“A clingy puppy who can beat your arse,” She cuts in, pressing a sloppy wet kiss to your cheek, eliciting a laugh from you.

“Ew, don’t lick me you grot!” You shriek, shoving her face away while still holding her to your lap. You hear Soap laugh when you scrub your face on her shoulder. The rest of your drink goes down easy, more water than anything else at this point. “Alright, anyone want a drink?” You grunt as you stand up, sliding Samuels off your lap when you stretch to stand. You get a few answers and you nod, collecting all the empty glasses and piling them on the tray.

“Wait,” Price calls, slipping a few bills out of his wallet and pressing them into your hand. “I’m not going to let you pay for my team,” he adds. His hands dwarf yours, warm and a little rough. A flush burns hotly across your cheeks.

“Ah- no it’s fine-” you start. The sound of your heart beat drums harshly in your ears.

“No.” He cuts, not unkindly. “Please.” His eyes are warm and good natured, and you can hear Sammie sniggering.

“Captain Mon- ow!” Sammie yelps as Anisley jabs her in the side.

“Okay,” you squeak with a nod, turning on your heel and beelining for the bar. The tray is balanced expertly on your palm and slides perfectly onto the bar - the bartender thanks you and takes the cash from your hand along with your order. You fight down your embarrassed flush at hearing Sammie almost called Price 'Captain Money’.

You look back at the booth - they’d all fallen back into conversation. There’s a fine haze over the bar, someone probably smoking in a corner where they shouldn’t be, though it’s not as if you can really talk. The bar is a little tacky under your hands as you watch them. They’re shrouded in a slight shadow, tinted a warm amber. The camera almost slips unconsciously from your pocket as you line up the shot, zooming in on the Captain. He’s lent back in the booth, one arm up against the back of it. There’s a soft crinkle to his eyes as he smiles at something that Soap says, drink almost at his lips when you take the photo. The glass looks almost tiny in his hands.

“What’re you doin’?” Ghost’s rough voice comes from behind you.

“Christ!” you startle. The camera drops easily into the top pocket of your jacket, hidden away the millisecond you turn around. It’s not even an active move, but a reflex that you’d built at this point. “Don’t scare a girl like that!” you say with a grin. He stares down at you, eyes boring into you and it takes everything you have not to twitch or let your hand flutter to check that your camera is tucked away properly.

“Hn.”

“What are you, Batman?” you say with a grin. The bartender finally returns, sliding you the tray. Ghost goes to take it and you hip check him gently, taking it. “I was a waitress for a lot of highschool, I’m good at this,” you say, easily carrying the tray on one hand. You see his mask shift a little, indicative of an eyebrow raise. “What? Were you a waitress?”

“Waiter,” he corrects, and you wave him off.

“Same difference,” you say with a small laugh. “Were you?” you ask again, with honest curiosity this time as you weave through the crowd. They part for him, but you’ve learnt the art of sliding around people.

“...No. A shelver at the library,” He replies.

“Wait, really?” Your eyebrow jolts to your hairline. “That’s kinda cute.” He huffs a laugh at that, hands in his pockets.

“Don’t let Price here say that,” Ghost says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You get back to the table before you can ask questions. A small cheer erupts, a grin ticking at your lips.

“Uh…” you blink, realising there’s nowhere to sit. Ains has popped her boots in Sammie’s lap - to anyone else, you’d knock their feet off and sit in Sammie’s lap, but you know that Ains only does it when her knee hurts. “I’m gonna go get a stool-” Turning to walk away, you jolt when a large hand wraps around your wrist softly.

“Nonsense,” Price starts and gently drags you into his lap. You squeak, stiff as he pulls you so the swell of your arse is pressed back against his crotch and stomach. “We’re off duty. Relax.”

“I- uh-” you stutter out, looking at Sammie in panic who is clearly fighting back laughter. John copies how you were sitting earlier, wrapping his thick arms around your waist, chin hooked on your shoulder. His grip isn’t tight, but feels incredibly steady. The edge of his beard tickles your jaw.

“He’s drunk,” Ghost offers, sliding you your own drink. “We pregamed.” you wrap your fingers around your glass and take a few heavy sips before putting it down, wincing as the alcohol burns its way down.

“That’d do it,” you reply nodding, still twitching with nerves.

“Relax, lovie,” John murmurs in your ear. “Nothin’ to worry about.”

“Yes Captain,” you reply, doing your best. A small squeak comes out of you when he pinches the squishy inside of your thigh.

“Naw yer Captain right now,” He says. “Jus’ John’ll do.” The low rough brogue of his tone has you fighting down a whimper - but it shows enough on your face that you see Ghost smirking with this mask rolled up to take a drink out of the corner of your eye.

“Yes, John,” you reply obediently. He pats your tummy. A flush colours your cheek as he keeps his hand on the softness there, kneading a little. “Attagirl.”

You feel like you’re going insane - everyone acts like you sitting in his lap is absolutely normal, like he doesn’t majorly outrank you. He’s touching you; rough hand slipped a little under your shirt, fingertips skating across your ribs and tracing the underside of your bra. You fight to keep your breathing steady, unable to focus on the conversation. His left arm is crossed over you, hand sat on your right thigh like a seatbelt. Someone keeps feeding you drinks - Sammie, probably. The alcohol flows like oil over a raging fire.You can feel the swimmy lightheadedness that comes from drunkenness, eyes drooping a little. Your laughs come easier. At some point, you feel John tug your hair tie out, solely with the purpose of smelling it.

Eventually the drinks catch up to you, and you go to stand - John growls a little in your ear. “No.”

“I gotta pee, John,” you whisper, and he relents, albeit reluctantly. The table is cold and a little damp under your fingertips when you use it to steady yourself.

“Easy, doll,” you hear, and it’s not John, but Ghost who grabs your shoulder. “I’ll walk you.”

You nod, his big hand on your shoulder to keep you up right. Tension bleeds out of you when you walk down the hallway, the air clearer and quieter. “Here, give me your jacket,” Ghost orders softly. “Don’t want you getting it damp.” he tugs it off your shoulders, leaving you in a shirt.

“Thanks,” slurs out of you, and he nods.

The floor swims a little when you come back out, smelling like hand soap. Ghost gently guides your arms back into your jacket. “I think I’m done,” you say seriously. “Home time.”

He huffs a small laugh, guiding you outside. Even with a booze blanket, the cold air nips at your flushed cheeks. 141 is there, along with Ains and Sammie - who cheer when you appear.

“We missed yoooou,” Ainsley wails drunkenly, koala hugging you. You huff a little, shifting her a little higher so you can hold her comfortably.

“Don’t leave!” Sammie joins in, draping her weight on your back. A grunt is pushed out of you, as she stops supporting herself, arms wrapped around your neck. There’s a laugh from somewhere behind you.

“‘M not leaving,” You reply, starting to walk back to base. It’s about a twenty minute walk while sober, closer to forty while drunk and carrying two fully grown women. You get about eight steps when you feel Ghost sigh next to you.

“You really gonna walk back?” he asks. He doesn’t stop you as you continue to move forward at a surprisingly even pace.

“We walked here an’ I can’t drive,” you reply. “Sammie, stop dragging your damn feet.”

“Sorry,” she slurs, and awkwardly wraps her long legs around you, crossing them over Ainsley’s back. You take a steadying breath, but Ghost stops you.

“I didn’t drink. I drove. C’mon.” He takes your shoulder before you can protest and guides you into the back of a large Jeep. Gaz is sprawled in the back too, and John is strapped into the front. Somewhere along the way, the soft rocking of the car knocks you to sleep.

---

Ge’off me,” you groan, pushing Samuels off you. She moans in turn, rolling onto the mat. It’s midmorning, and the three of you are currently attempting to participate in training.

Attempting.

Ainsley threw up next to the mat about 5 minutes in and had been walked out. You and Sammie were shittily attempting to grapple, both of you buckling under crippling headaches, vestiges of last night.

You’d woken up tucked neatly into your own bed in the same shirt as last night but braless and pantless, shoes lined up neatly next to the foot of the bed. Two painkillers and a gatorade on the nightstand with a note that read ‘Didn’t peek. Got you to drink some water before you fell asleep. Samuels and Ainsley are in their rooms. See you at training - LT Riley’

Right now, Ghost wasn’t extending any of that friendliness to you.

“Get up, Corporals!” He barked, standing at the edge of your sparring mat. “Being hungover is no excuse for poor form!”

You groan and Sammie mumbles something foul under her breath as you sluggishly stand back in position. However she pales and turns around, immediately puking on Ghost’s boots. The yellowish liquid splashes onto the cuffs of his pants.

“Shit-” She groans. “‘M sorry, Ghost.” instead of yelling, he just sighs.

“Go to infirm. Take the day off.” He grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. She nods, shooting you an apologetic look as she scrambles out of the room. “Oi! All of you, get the fuck out of here!” Ghost snaps, and the rest of the corporals scatter quickly. “Not you,” He adds low enough only for you to hear.

You sigh tiredly, scrubbing at your face. “Thanks for getting us back last night.”

He nods. In the daylight, he looks sharper, less… friend shaped, without the blurry filter of drunkness over your eyes. “You’re a good bunch. Wasn’t just gonna leave you there after getting you drunk,” he replies, a smirk laced in his words. You laugh weakly, wincing as a bolt of pain shoots through your skull.

“Fair. We don’t usually drink on Sundays. We were stuck with backlogged paperwork on Friday and Saturday so…”

He nods, understanding. “I get it.”

A moment of silence passes. The plastic of the mats squeak under your feet. “Did you need something or…?”

Ghost doesn’t reply, just pulling your camera out of his pocket. It looks tiny in his hands, basically fitting in his palm. Your stomach drops. “Where- where did you-”

“You dropped it.”

You know you didn’t. You never drop it. It’s your baby, your prize possession. You’d assumed it would still be in the breast pocket of your jacket.

“I got the film developed for you,” he adds. “Some… interesting photos you got here.” Even with the balaclava on, you can tell there’s a mean smirk on his lips. Blood rushes in your ears, and the edges of your vision blur. “A lot of the same subject matter, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ghost- whatever it is you want I-”

He scoffs in his throat. “Do you really think there’s something you could give me that I’d want?” Anger flares in you, a scowl twisting your face. Fucking prick, you think, nose scrunched.

“Fine. What’s the point, then?” You ask, trying to hide the shake in your voice.

“Just… remember I know.” he replies, patting the breast pocket of his jacket - you hear the familiar thwum thwum of printed film. A snarl explodes from your throat, and for some damned reason you launch yourself at him.

“That’s mine,” you hiss, as you both hit the mats. Your fingers scratch at the front of his jacket as you try to grab them and he laughs, before grabbing you by the ends of your hair and yanking. “Fuck-” you gasp in pain. Ghost continues to pull, mean and harsh. He shifts so he’s standing, you stuck awkwardly crouched as he tugs.

“Really thought that was going to work, huh?”

“Give them back!” you yell, trying to hit him in the knees. He grabs your face hard, fingers biting into your cheeks.

“Lose the fucking attitude,” He hisses. “Consider this a warning.”

Instead of hitting you like you expected, he shoves you to the ground and walks off, leaving you sprawled on the mats, head throbbing.

---

You pull the coward move.

You disappear for a week - not AWOL, obviously, but you have more than rough backlogged PTO that no one really blinks an eye. It’s hard to convince yourself that this is a strategic retreat. To regroup, of course.

Home is too far, so you spend it holed up in a cheap motel, sitting in the scratchy bed while reruns of The Nanny and Seinfield crackle on the small box TV, staring at it unseeingly. Part of you just wants to get drunk; ugly sloshed, to the point where you puke up nothing but bile and clear fluid. But what good would that do? Ghost has the photos already. He has a week, maybe more, worth of film photos. It would be delusional to pretend that he wouldn’t be reporting them to Price - none of them were from missions, but out of the ones in your shoebox, a few of them were.

You where fucked.

“When’re you coming back?” Ainsley asks over the phone. It’s cradled against your ear while you paint your toenails, black polish wet. “It’s been 6 days.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” you sigh. “I just needed a break.” You hadn’t told them. It was stupid - maybe you should’ve. But the embarrassment of telling someone that you had managed to be caught with your metaphoric pants down was enough to make your face burn.

“You sure you’re okay?” Her voice is tinny through the speakers, small and concerned. A small smile twitches at your lips.

“I’m okay, Ains,” you placate. “Just needed some time off, okay? I’ll be back soon.” Sometimes you forget how young she is - that you and Sammie are all she really has here.

“...Okay.”

“I’m serious. One more day and I’ll be back to stealing your brownies,” You tease, cursing quietly when a bit of polish drips off the brush and onto the bedspread. Ainsley laughs and starts bitching about how it’s not fair you never take Samuels’s treats. The tension leaks from her voice and your shoulders as the sun slowly sets, your nail polish drying and lamps flicking on, washing the room in a faint warm glow.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ye,” Ainsley adds just before you hang up. “Captain Price was looking for you. I told him you were on leave, and he said to tell you to come to his office when you’re back.”

“What?” You croak.

“Yeah, he didnae say why. I gotta go, mess is starting! Bye!”

The phone beeps in your ear. You can’t help but curse lowly.

It didn’t make sense - why would Ghost show him? He had nothing to gain from torturing you like this!

You groan, burying your face into your hands.

---

“Price wants to see you,” Gaz greets you, leaning in the doorway of the corporal's office space. His hat is on, but tilted up so you can see the curiosity in his eyes. The only sound is your keyboard and the faint whirring of a desk fan. Warm noon sun filters through the slats of the window, along with a tepid breeze that smells like grass and gravel. “But you already knew that.”

“Mhm,” you reply, not looking up. When you had finally come crawling back, you had the decent excuse of backlog to avoid seeing the Captain. But three days later you were at the point of triple and quadruple checking your reports just to get out of seeing him.

Gaz doesn’t move, continuing to study you with interest. “You know why he wants to see you.” It’s not a question.

“Mhm.”

“Avoiding him isn’t going to make it go away.” He pauses. “Whatever it is.”

“I’ll be honest, I’d rather be dishonourably discharged than see him,” he laughs a little at that. “But I guess I’ve played the coward long enough.”

You groan as you stand, something in your back clicking. Gaz continues to stare at you, though out of his periphery now as you fall into step with him. The hallways are bustling with people as you walk side by side, doing your best to not drag your feet. Trepidation starts to burn in your chest.

“You know, I was instructed to make sure you made it to Price’s office no matter what,” He says conversationally, hands crammed into his pockets. “Even if it meant knocking you out or carrying you. It’s a bit of a pleasant surprise for you to willingly come with me.”

Your eyebrows jolt to your hairline. “Knock me out?”

“Or carry you,” Gaz adds helpfully. You glare at him. “So? What’d you do?”

You grumble. He raises an eyebrow. The crowd of the hallways has started to thin out the closer you get to the office. Your heart trips over itself in your chest.

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Sure,” he replies amicably, nodding along. “He’s just been in a foul mood since you left because of nothing too then, right?”

A scowl flickers across your face. He chuckles, and heat warms your cheeks at being caught.

“I’ll find out eventually.” You know it’s supposed to be a passing statement, but it feels like a threat.

Gaz doesn’t even knock - you feel a flicker of panic shoot through you. You needed that split second to steel yourself.

“I gottem,” Gaz says singsongly, the door swinging open.

You had been inside this office a few times - it always smells faintly like cigar smoke and printer ink. Today is no different. Sweat gathers on your palms as you walk in, and it feels as if you’re walking towards your death.

“Sit,” Price orders, not even looking up from his paperwork. You sit.

A few moments of silence pass, before he sighs and looks up. “Are you going to keep standing there?” he directs at Gaz who’s leaning curiously in the doorway. He shrugs with a grin. Price levels him with a look and Gaz sighs a little dramatically.

“Fine, spoil all my fun,” Gaz says with a slightly put on disappointment. The closing of the door feels like a death knoll.

#captain price #price x reader #price x you #cross posting #call of duty #WHY DOES TUMBLR COMPRESS PHOTOS GODDAMN IT

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