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sluttywonwoo · 3 days

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the roster | part one of three

pairing: christopher bahng + lee sangyeon + choi seuncheol x f!reader

summary: what happens when all the guys on your roster find out about each other?

warnings: see here (mdni!!!)

word count: 4.4k

series masterlist

You’d been set up. You should have known something was off when Sangyeon texted you to come over. He never texted you first. He was the most reserved of the three, always letting you be the one to reach out to him if you wanted to hook up.

You shot him an accusatory glare but he pointedly avoided your gaze, choosing instead to stare at something on the ceiling that was apparently much more interesting.

Seungcheol was the first to speak, of course. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?”

You figured there was no point in lying. They already had you cornered. “Yeah, kind of.” The three of them scoffed in unison, making you hold up your hands in defense. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other like that!”

In fact, you had chosen each of them precisely because you thought there wouldn’t be any conflicts of interest. They were all in different groups, all the leaders of said groups which you thought would mean that they were almost always busy with their members. You didn’t think they had time for friends. Let alone friends who were of different ages and also leaders.

Chris was the biggest gamble. You knew that he knows almost everyone in the industry and has a lot of friends but you didn’t think he knew the other two guys you were fucking well enough to put together that you were actually sleeping with all of them.

Everything had been going so well. You had perfected your system over the months, using the boys’ schedules to your advantage so there was never any overlap. Seungcheol got weekends, Sangyeon got Wednesdays and Fridays, and Chris got 3ams on Tuesdays, Thursdays, (and sometimes Fridays if you weren’t sleeping over at Sangyeon’s) because that’s just when he was free. You keep your Mondays and the last full week of every month free so that you have time for yourself. Otherwise you’d drive yourself crazy spending all your time with men.

You had never agreed to be exclusive with any of them. You made it more than clear that wasn’t what you were looking for. Still, they must have thought you weren’t seeing anyone else because all three of them had shown up to this confrontation and all three of them looked pissed.

“Is it just the three of us?” Chris chimes in.

“How much time do you think I have?” you mutter.

“Just answer the question.”

You look away from them. “Yeah, there’s no one else.”

“Lucky us,” Seungcheol sneers.

“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted something casual,” you remind him, your tone icy. “You wanted to sleep around with no strings attached and I agreed.”

You’ve known Seungcheol the longest. You were friends first, through your job, but it quickly turned into something more. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other, spending nights and mornings together. Going to sleep and waking up and stealing kisses in elevators. Talking on the phone for hours and planning dates in the different cities he was touring in.

He shut you down before you could get too delusional about it, though, stating plainly that all he wanted was a strict friends-with-benefits sort of situation. You still remember the feeling of your throat burning as you fought back tears, telling him that was perfectly fine, that you felt the same way.

You couldn’t let yourself get too attached to a man who didn’t want you in the same way you wanted him so you looked for a distraction and found one in Lee Sangyeon. You met him through Jacob, a younger member of his group. Sangyeon was the perfect distraction. He was charming and funny, never one to take himself too seriously. He was a real gentleman and it didn’t hurt that he had a huge dick.

You were the one to broach the topic of nonexclusivity with him this time, wanting to beat him to it. You knew exactly what all of these idols wanted. Choi Seungcheol had taught you that lesson early on. Sangyeon took it well, at least, as well as you expected him to. He told you he was on the same page as you, that he was just looking for something casual and you believed him. Now, looking at the expression on his face as he listens to the two other men talk, you’re not sure.

And then Chris just sort of fell into your lap. You weren’t looking for anything else. Juggling two men was enough work. You just so happened to run into him at some after party, stopping him to compliment his music. One thing led to another and you were shoving your tongue down his throat in a dark closet. Apparently he had a thing for praise.

Neither of you had to be the one to friend(swithbenefits)zone the other. You brought it up one night as you laid in his bed together and he was quick to agree.

“Yeah, I don’t have time for anything more than... this, right now,” he sighed. He sounded a little regretful about it, like he thought he was being an asshole despite you voicing the same sentiment.

So you hadn’t been doing anything wrong- even if your brain liked to tell you otherwise sometimes. You defined the (non)relationships with each of them, used protection with all of them, you weren’t leading anyone on... it had just so happened to get a little bit... messy, for lack of a better word.

“No strings attached doesn’t mean I want you to fuck my friends!” Seungcheol huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t know you were friends with them!” you cry, throwing your head back onto the back of the couch in frustration and accidentally banging your head against the wall in the process.

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks, wincing.

The other two side-eye him.

“I’m fine. But why am I here? Did you bring me here just to yell at me?”

“Not exactly,” Chris says, smirking.

You look to the other men for an explanation but neither of them offer any further explanation.

“Then why?”

Chris slides his hands in his front pockets and shrugs. “Well, if you’re up for it, the three of us thought we might have a little fun with you.”

“What does that mean?”

Seungcheol steps forward and mirrors Chan’s stance, cocking his head to the side for good measure. You have to fight the urge to roll your eyes, knowing it would only make things worse for you.

To be fair, all the posturing would be a lot more annoying if they weren’t the hottest men you’d ever seen in your life.

“I think you know what that means,” Cheol adds, supplying absolutely nothing helpful.

“Obviously I don’t or I wouldn’t have asked,” you argue.

Seungcheol whistles and then looks to his friends. “Is she this bratty with you guys?” Chris gives an ‘eh’ hand motion whilst Sangyeon nods outright. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Did you think you were getting special treatment?” you taunt, surprising even yourself.

He scowls but doesn’t respond, probably in an effort to maintain some semblance of self-control in front of the other two. If it were just you and him, you’d have a hand around your throat already. And maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe your mouth was working faster than your brain in order to get a specific... reaction out of them like you normally would. Or maybe your mouth just liked to get you in trouble.

From the way they were acting, they obviously hadn’t lured you here just to hang out. It had to be some sort of sex thing, right? You certainly weren’t opposed, you just needed to figure out what game they were playing so that you could be dealt in.

“We were curious about which one of us you like the most,” Chris says finally. At least someone was interested in getting to the fucking point.

You blink at him then turn to look at Seungcheol who just nods in confirmation. “You want me to... rank you? Why?”

“You’re the one who has us on a little roster,” Sangyeon points out, sounding a little mean for the first time tonight. “Surely you’ve thought about it before.”

You shake your head. “I haven’t. I mean, I like all of you guys! I wouldn’t hang out with you if I didn’t.”

“We don’t care about hanging out, we want to know who you think is the best in bed,” Seungcheol clarifies.

“What?”

“You know, who’s the best fuck?”

“Why do you even care?” you ask. “Like what are you getting out of this?”

“Just a little competition between friends,” Chris assures you with a wink.

“I... wouldn’t even know where to start,” you insist.

“We thought you might say that,” Seungcheol hums as he steps closer to you. “Which is why we thought we could test it in real time.”

“In real time?”

“Yeah, let us fuck you, then you tell us who’s best.”

“Right now?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “You asked why we brought you here.”

“And you just assumed I’d be down?”

“Yeah,” all three of them say at the same time.

It’s your turn to scoff. So that’s what they think of you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, to be fair. It wasn’t like you were a saint. You literally had your dick appointments with all of them penciled into your Google Calendar every week.

“C’mon, baby, we know you by now,” Chris adds, plopping down on the sofa next to you. He stretches his arm across the back of it like guys like to do, opening himself up for you to lean into him if you wanted to. “Are you saying you don’t want us to take turns fucking your brains out?”

You stay silent.

“Should we take that as a yes?” Sangyeon asks.

“I’d say so,” Chris agrees.

Seungcheol claps his hands together decisively and then points to the man sitting next to you. “Chan, you’re up first then, yeah? That’s how you do it in your group, right? Youngest first?”

He’s mocking him but Chris doesn’t acknowledge it. If there’s one thing you know about Bang Chan, it’s that he’s not one to back down from a challenge, and while going first in this sort of competition must be daunting he doesn’t look the least bit shaken.

“Are we doing this here?” he asks the older two.

Sangyeon considers it and shrugs. “We should probably move to the bed, right?”

“Dude, it’s your house.”

“There’s more room on the bed,” Sangyeon decides, offering you his hand.

You take it and he helps you up from the couch. You step in front of the boys and lead them to Sangyeon’s bedroom, calling “it’s this way,” over your shoulder just to be a menace. You can’t see the faces they make behind you but you hear Sangyeon chuckle under his breath.

You flick on one of his table lamps and make yourself comfortable on the bed, patting the spot next to you for Chris to join you. He does and puts a hand on your thigh, squeezing your thigh comfortingly. Seungcheol and Sangyeon lean against the dresser across from the bed in the most non-awkward way they can manage.

Somehow, they both still look intimidating despite the fact that they’re essentially about to be cucked by one of their closest friends.

“What now?” you ask.

Chris brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek and leans in. “Now, we do this.”

He kisses you gently at first. Whether it’s to ease your nerves or his own, you aren’t sure, but he starts slow, building up to what you’re used to. His thumb strokes your cheek as if to reassure you as he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. His other hand that had been resting on your hip fumbles with your pants.

“Just pretend they aren’t there,” he whispers.

It’s impossible to do when you can feel the weight of their stares on you but you try to relax anyway, reminding yourself that something like this has been a fantasy of yours for a while now. You never thought it would actually happen and you definitely didn’t think it would be with them but with your luck you honestly shouldn’t be as surprised as you are.

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax,” Chris continues, low enough for only you to hear. “I kind of have something to prove here.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you assure him. “You’re great in bed.”

“They don’t know that,” he hisses.

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot this is just a competition to you guys,” you grumble.

He chuckles. “What, you want me to make love to you in front of them? Because I will.”

“I think that’d be even more embarrassing, somehow.”

“Exactly, now lay down and let me fuck you brainless so you can’t overthink anymore.”

He had such a way with words, that Bang Chan did.

He shifts so you can lay down and take your pants off. Your shirt goes next, leaving you in just your underwear. It’s the most exposed you’ve ever felt even though you’ve been completely naked in front of all three men before.

Chris snaps the elastic waistband of your cotton panties against your hip and smirks. “Cute.”

You pout, ready to defend your granny panties but Sangyeon pipes up from the other side of the room before you can.

“She doesn’t care what she wears over to mine because she knows it won’t stay on long anyway.”

That was actually true. You dressed the most comfortably to hang out with Sangyeon because you knew he wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like Chris or Seungcheol cared more, and you didn’t really dress up for them either, but there was a notable difference between the amount of effort you put in for each man, something you hadn’t noticed until just now.

“She wet yet?” Seungcheol asks, sounding bored.

You know it’s just a front so his jealousy and impatience won’t shine through because it’s not a very good one. Seungcheol is not and never has been good at hiding his feelings.

Chris shoots him a look. “I was getting to that.”

Seungcheol holds his hands up in defense but thankfully keeps his mouth shut.

Chris sucks in a breath of patience and brings his hand in between your legs, fingers tracing your slit. Your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment because you are, in fact, wet. You have been since they sat you down and stood in front of you like you were going to be scolded for doing something wrong.

“Yeah, she’s fucking wet,” Chris rasps. “Jesus Christ, baby. I bet your joggers are ruined too.”

His teasing makes you try to close your thighs around his hand but his reflexes beat yours and he catches your knee to force your legs back open.

“Nice try.”

“You’re the worst.”

His fingers start to wander beneath the fabric of your panties, feather light touches that already have you gasping for breath. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I really do.”

“Want me to stop?” he threatens.

“What happened to having something to prove?” you mutter back.

“Always such a fucking brat,” he muses, jaw tight.

“Don’t act like you don’t love that about me.”

“You’re consistent, I’ll give you that.”

Chris leans down and kisses you again, presumably to get you to stop talking. It works, of course. He lets his tongue explore your mouth while his hands explore your body, still not giving you what you really want.

Eventually, he slips a finger inside, taking you by surprise and making you gasp as you grab at him for something to squeeze. He offers you his arm and you take it, fingernails digging into his bicep.

“It’s just one finger, baby,” Chris coos.

“Feels.... good, though,” you squeak.

He adds another right as you start to get used to the feeling of the first and you have to take a deep breath to keep yourself from making another embarrassing noise.

“Don’t hold back. Let the boys know how good I’m making you feel.”

Seungcheol scoffs, tonguing his cheek. “You don’t have to fake it for him, babe.”

“Are you sure you guys are friends?” you pant.

They don’t answer, leaving you to draw the conclusions yourself. You’re sure they were friends... whether they would be after this was another story.

Chris crooks his fingers up, knowing you won’t be able to stay quiet once he does. He’s right. You moan, albeit quietly, and arch into his touch.

“So what are the parameters of this competition?” Chris asks the other two and turns his head towards them while he continues to work his fingers in and out of you.

“What do you mean?” Sangyeon asks back.

“Like, does foreplay count? Or is she judging solely based on our stroke game?”

Seungcheol considers it for a moment before looking to Sangyeon. “What do you think?”

“I think the judgment should include foreplay,” he says. “Foreplay is part of sex after all.”

“Good point,” Chris agrees. “Any other rules?” They shake their heads. “What about you, baby? Do you have any rules for us?”

You purse your lips as you think, trying not to lose focus with his fingers inside of you. “Just don’t go too hard. I do have to work on Monday.”

It’s only Friday night now, but knowing them, you’ll probably be sore for at least a couple of days afterward.

Chris laughs. “We’ll do our best. Right, guys?”

They mumble what sounds like an agreement and Sangyeon even gives you a thumbs-up.

“Can I keep going?” Chris asks you.

“You didn’t really stop,” you point out.

He had still been fingering you lazily throughout the whole aside. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was certainly distracting. You had to try very hard to concentrate on what they were saying.

“C’mon, this is nothing,” he teases, bringing his thumb to your clit as he starts to kiss your neck. “How’s that?” he murmurs into your ear,

“G-good...”

“Just good? Must be doing something wrong, then.”

Before you can deny it, he adds a third finger, earning a loud cry from you this time. You feel him grin against your throat, hiding his smug satisfaction from the other two.

“Spread your legs wider for me, baby. Let them see.”

You do as you’re told even though it’s hard. It’s so much. You want to squeeze them around his hand again but you know you’ll only get told off if you do.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you whimper.

“That’s all it takes, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol mutters. “We just have to call you a good girl and you’re making a mess all over us, right?”

You squirm, arousal and embarrassment pooling in your belly. You can tell Chris wants to give Cheol shit for butting in when it’s supposed to be his turn, but he doesn’t because his words are technically helping him. You get even wetter around his fingers, a detail Chris elects not to share with the room.

You’re sure they can see it, though, or at least hear it. The sounds are obscene.

It’s mortifying. You want to die. But first you want to cum.

Two of your favorite things about Chris are his hands. They’re huge, especially for a guy his height, and absolutely gorgeous. Thick veins run across the backs of them from his knuckles up through his forearms- he’s a nurse’s wet dream, and yours. You’ve spent an absurd amount of time tracing them with your own fingers when you’re laying in bed together after hooking up and more often than not, it’s enough to make you want to go again.

He’s good with them too because of course he is. Bang Chan is annoyingly good at everything he does, including but not limited to: making you cum.

“Already?” Chris muses under his breath. “Does having an audience turn you on that much?”

“Sh-shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who can take their fingers away any time they want to.”

“No, please!” you protest.

“That’s what I thought. Do you want to cum on my fingers? Or should I make you wait for it?” He’s talking to himself at this point but you answer anyway.

“I-I don’t know...”

“Probably should let you, huh? You’re still so tight.”

You don’t get another word out before it hits you, your body curling in on Chan’s hand as he finger fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. As soon as you come down, he’s taking his fingers out of you and sucking them into his mouth, kissing you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips.

“Good job, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth as he adds his tongue back into the mix. “Ready for me now?”

“Mhm...”

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” Sangyeon says, nodding in the direction of the bedside table.

Chris reaches over and pulls the drawer out, whistling at the other things he finds rolling around in the compartment.

“This hers?” he asks, holding up a vibrator.

“Who else’s would it be?” Sangyeon mutters.

“I don’t know what you do in your free time, man.”

He drops the toy back in its place and grabs a condom from the box tucked in the corner of the same drawer. The odds of one size fitting three different men were slim, but having slept with each of them you’re sure they’ll be able to make it work.

Chris hands you the foil packet, allowing you to do the honors of tearing it open with your teeth while he works on getting naked.

Seungcheol whistles jeeringly at Chan as he takes his cock out and pumps it a couple of times. You can see the back of Chan’s neck flush red but he remains steady as he rolls the latex on. You realize it must be difficult for him to have an audience too, though he has nothing to be self conscious about. Even if they aren’t showing it, you know the other two have to be impressed.

He’s the perfect balance of long and thick and just like his hands, defined veins run up the length of his shaft. You’ve spent what feels like hours tracing those veins with your tongue, watching him shiver under your touch. Most dicks aren’t pretty but Christopher Bahng’s certainly is.

“Ready?” Chris asks, rubbing your thigh with his palm.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

Since he already made you cum, he’s able to slip in without much resistance- but he’s big enough that the stretch is still intense, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stifle a whimper.

He gives you a moment to adjust once he’s fully inside you, teasing only a little bit with slight movements of his hips.

“God, that feels good,” you moan.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs sweetly, “you’re taking it so well for me.”

He brushes a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes so that you can see him properly. Obstructed view or not, he’s beautiful on top of you. His own bangs have already started to stick to his forehead and the pink flush of embarrassment has somewhat faded and turned into that of exertion, spreading from the back of his neck to his chest and face and matching the kiss-bitten swell of his lips. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are engaged with the effort it takes to hold himself above you, making him look even bigger.

His eyes are soft, even as the rest of his features take on a more sinister expression. That was one of the things that made sex with Chris so good. He genuinely cares for you, not just as a lover, but as a person. Lots of guys put effort into making the other party feel good during sex but that doesn’t mean they care about them. It’s not like that with Chris.

“Want it faster?” he asks you. You nod. “Ask nicely.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Please...”

He frees one of his hands and uses it to stroke your cheek. “‘Please,’ what?”

“Faster,” you squeak.

“Is that the best you can do?” Seungcheol scoffs from the sidelines.

“I’ll let her off easy this time,” Chris responds. “She can hardly think straight as it is, isn’t that right?”

Another nod.

You get what you want and Chan picks up the pace, snapping his hips into yours in quick, shallow thrusts.

“You’re getting tighter again,” he grunts, faltering imperceptibly. “You’re making this too easy for me.”

One of the other two makes what you assume is a snide remark but you don’t catch it because everything starts to fade into the background as you start to cum around Chan’s cock. It catches both of you off guard, you can tell. It isn’t unusual for you to finish from penetration alone but it usually takes a lot longer.

“Holy shit, you’re so- fuck, you’re going to make me cum.”

He keeps going after you come down, chasing his own release. It’s almost enough to send you into a third orgasm but he cums before you can get there which is both a relief and a disappointment.

You whine as the feeling ebbs and let yourself go boneless underneath him. He follows suit and collapses face first next to you on the mattress.

“Sorry,” he whispers to you. “I would’ve kept going but I didn’t want you to be too sensitive for them.”

You nod in understanding and pat him appreciatively on the back.

The room is quiet as the three men wait for you to catch your breath. Chris ensures you’re okay before rolling off the bed and joining the other two by the dresser. He mentions something about cleaning you up when you’re all done and offers to fetch you a glass of water.

“There’s a Brita in the fridge,” Sangyeon tells him after also pointing him in the direction of the cabinet that holds the cups.

He disappears into the hall and you gather what little strength you have to pop your head up and address the two remaining leaders at the foot of the bed.

“Who’s next?”

this has been in the works for way too long lol but lmk what you think! i always appreciate feedback!!

tags: @minghaosimp @butterfliesinthenightsky @lelestarmy @stolasisyourparent @brownbunnyb @tinkerbell460 @cixrosie

add yourself to the taglist here

#the roster #stray kids smut #seventeen smut #the boyz smut #skz smut #svt smut #tbz smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #s.coups smut #s.coups x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #sangyeon smut

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onlyhereforthestories · 17 hours

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Worth It? Or Not? (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi guys! It's been too long. Please enjoy this long ramble that slightly resembles writing 😂. I have a few more things written and I am trying to finish Chica for you all. Happy weekend.

It was a new season, and you were so ready for what it was going to throw at you. The last season you participated in had been your best yet you think, although that was most likely due to the fact that it was your first with your girlfriend. You and Alexia had been dancing around your feeling for each other for a few years and in the off-season last year the older woman had finally asked you out. By the time the season just gone had started you were already official, and it had made last year that much more special. You got to share your achievements with the one you loved and that really was wonderful.

Now for a new season and possibly a new step for your relationship with Alexia, she had been hinting at moving in together for the last few weeks. Little off hand comments like “That would look nice in a master bedroom.” And “I wonder if we would have a feature wall if we had our own living space.” You thought it was about time you started hinting back. You needed to be sure it was something she actually wanted before you out right asked her if she was ready to move in together.

You were currently waiting for Aitana to pick you up, Alexia had to be in earlier than everyone else this morning for a meeting and so you had slept separately, at your own apartments last night. This was the first time in weeks that you could remember not sharing a bed with the older woman. She said she didn’t want to wake you as early as she needed to be up and after trying to argue with her for 10 minutes you had given up, she just wasn’t getting that you would happily wake up early if it meant spending the extra time with her.

“So why do I have to come get your whipped ass? Where’s the wifey?” You rolled your eyes at the woman as you climbed into the passenger seat of her car. Aitana had been one of the first people you had talked to about your crush on Alexia and now the slightly younger woman took every opportunity she could to tease you about your obvious love for the team captain.

“I’m telling her you called her that, but in answer to your poorly asked question, she had an early meeting and didn’t want to wake me up at the early time she had to be up.” You shrugged your shoulders in a gesture you knew was for your benefit not hers, you had been up half the night letting your anxiety get the best of you.

“It’s Alexia, you know her, she is probably just nervous for the new season and how the new signings will fit in.” You knew that Aitana was most likely right but you also couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that she was already getting bored of being with you. You knew you shouldn’t let these thoughts get the better of you but that was easier to say than actually do, it wasn’t that you doubted Alexia at all, it was more your growing anxiety over your own worth in your head. In fact you knew it was you and your head and that just made it even more frustrating, it was another thing that made you question yourself.

“Yeah, you are probably right, she has been feeling the captain pressure a lot over the last week or so. She has been watching tapes of the new girls and talking a lot with the staff after weights. Sometimes I wish she would just switch off from work and be a little more present with me, but she’s Alexia queen of Barca. She puts 110% into this club and that’s what I signed up for happily.”

After that the conversation switched to a lighter topic and by the time you pulled up at the training ground you were feeling a lot lighter and laughing with one of your best friends. Any thoughts of Alexia not wanting you any more were long gone and all you wanted to do now was get your cleats on. Football would always be a great escape for you, it was like your mind could relax whilst you had a ball at your feet.

After getting ready in the changing room, without the appearance of your love, you headed out with the rest of the girls to find Alexia in the middle of the field with another woman you didn’t recognise. Your attention was pulled from them when Pere spoke, “Okay ladies, we have a new signing starting with us today. Alexia has been getting to know her a little bit so it’s easier for her to settle in. Please be welcoming.” You all nodded your heads in agreement and followed him over to the two women.

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all, I’m Chloe.” You could tell the woman was nervous and so could Alexia as she moved everyone onto warm-ups rather quickly. Over the course of the session everyone introduced themselves to the new girl individually so that she felt as comfortable as possible.

You had just got out of the shower and was putting the last items in your bag when Alexia approached you for the first time today. “Hola, can I ask you for a favour por favor?” You could tell she was sort of in a hurry by the lack of affection she gave you. You would normally at least get a peck to the cheek, but she barely even got close enough to you for you to hear her properly.

“Si of course.” You would do anything for the woman in front of you and everyone knew it.

“I’m taking Chloe out to see the city so she knows her way around a bit better, but I didn’t get to walk Nala this morning. Can you run round mine and do it for me? I asked Alba but she is working.” There was a lot to pick out of that passage of one-sided conversation. First you were hurt that she had gone to Alba first when Nala was like your own dog too. Second, she must have forgotten your lunch plans with Claudia and Patri that had been made a while back and you knew was on her calendar as you put it there. Something you decided not to bring up, she was just trying to help the new girl settle in you understood that.

“Yes of course. Do you want me to make dinner tonight?” You thought at least you could have some time with her that evening being as you’ve barely interacted all day.

“I won’t be back for dinner, I told Chloe I would help her sort her apartment out after showing her the sights. I don’t know what time I’ll be back y/n so maybe we should sleep in our own apartments again tonight.” You really didn’t know what to say to this, so you just nodded. You got a lot of the women’s time, so you didn’t think it was fair for you to be upset over a couple days, especially not when she was just trying to help someone out.

“Okay, I’ll see you at training tomorrow then.” You turned round and walked out of training with a slight weight on your chest and your mind running with thoughts you wish you didn’t have.

After you walked Nala and dropped her back into Alexia’s apartment, an apartment that started to feel like your own until the last 24 hours. Part of you knew this was silly to think but you couldn’t help it, you are always an overthinker and this was something that you struggled with. You didn’t even take the time to make sure Nala was settled you just open the door let her in, checked her water bowl was full and left again. Being there just felt wrong today. Deciding that your mood was really not good enough to go out and have a lunch with your two friends you texted Patri to cancel, and after assuring her you were okay just a little extra tired today, she wished you a good evening and said she would pick you up for training if you needed the next morning.

An offer you ended up taking when your texts to Alexia the next morning went unanswered. You were tired and starting to get a little annoyed with the older woman, you were trying to reason as to why she wasn’t replying to your texts and even when she did it was so spaced out it felt like she didn’t care or want to talk to you. You were trying to change that thought process, but it was hard when that’s where your mind had gone.

“Hola, you don’t look so good. Should you be coming to training.” Patri’s concerned voice almost sent you into a wave of sobs, but you held it together, your thoughts were stupid so you know you couldn’t show you were sad. You didn’t want Patri to think you were an idiot for the way you were feeling about your current situation, if it was even a situation.

“I’m just tired Pats, I’ve not slept well the last few nights and I think its just caught up to me a bit today.” You sighed in relief when she didn’t push you any further just gave you a once over and then pulled away from the outside of your apartment complex.

You were hoping the journey to training would help your mood and thoughts, but it didn’t much. Patri tried her best to cheer you up and you really appreciated the younger woman’s efforts, but you were struggling. You made your way into the changing room behind your best friend and didn’t both to look up as you made your way to your cubby. You placed your stuff down and changed into your boots, leaving the changing room straight after as the first out.

You decided some air and keepy ups might help sort your head out before training. Pere and the staff were out setting up when you went to ask for a ball, they gladly gave you one and you headed to the far end of the field to have your space. The sun beating down on you felt good and a ball at your feet always helped.

Your peace was short lived as you heard the chatter of the rest of the girls and Pere calling you all in. You grabbed your ball and headed over, looking at the group for the first time. What you saw hurt your heart more than you would say to anyone, Alexia was stood near Pere like normal. That obviously wasn’t the upsetting part, the upsetting part was that Chloe was pretty much pressed against Ale. You tried not to look too long or think too much but you struggled. You really struggled.

Training started and your thoughts just kept going. You couldn’t concentrate, you couldn’t pass right, your touches were off and none of the shots you took even went close to the goal. By the end of the first half of training everyone could tell something wasn’t okay with you, so much so that Pere called you over in the drinks break.

“What’s up today? This is very unlike you. If your sick you should have just let us know I don’t want to see you get injured if you are pushing yourself too much and then end up being out for longer than you need to be. Health is important y/n.” The way he said it wasn’t scolding which you were thankful for, you were slightly worried that he would be annoyed with you for your performance.

“I’m sorry coach. I’m not feeling my best today, I thought I’d be okay to train but I think maybe I was wrong.” You wouldn’t normally miss training unless really necessary, but you were too far gone mentally and staying here wasn’t what you needed right now.

“That’s okay some days we just need the break and to rest. Go home and we will see you hopefully tomorrow. Please pop and see the medical staff on the way out to check in with them.” With that he patted your shoulder and went back to call the team back to training.

As you walked past the group Patri caught your eye and gave you the are you okay look. You waved her off with a half-smile and continued to the changing rooms. You decided that a shower at home would be the best for you and so just changed your shoes, grabbed your stuff and headed to the medical room.

They just did some basic checks on your temperature and blood pressure before sending you off with the promise to come in first thing tomorrow if you were planning on training just to have another check before you did.

You half expected Alexia to be waiting for you outside the medical room when you walked out but she wasn’t. You walked out of the grounds to remember that you got a lift, you were just about to walk home when your name was called. For a second your body warmed thinking it was who you really wanted it to be before your shoulders slump slightly. You knew that was Patri.

“I’ll drive you home come on.” You didn’t argue you just hopped in the passenger seat. You were quiet the whole way back to your place, the only words you said to the younger woman was thank you when you got out the car.

You took your shower turning the water to as hot as you could handle. Going for comfort after that you changed into your (Alexias) comfiest hoodie and a pair of tracksuits that you really weren’t sure whose they were. You settled yourself onto your sofa and turned on a random old show you didn’t need to concentrate on.

You have no idea when you fell asleep, but you must have at some point because you were blinking yourself awake in the now pitch blackness of your living space. The only light you had was coming from your phone on the table that you now realised was ringing and must have been the reason you were currently waking up.

You reached over to grab it off the table to see who it was, glancing at the screen you were faced with your favourite photo you had ever taken. Ale had this smile that reached her eyes as she stared at you through the camera, it was taken last month when you were on vacation before the season was due to start.

You were stuck in a sort of daze so you didn’t answer the call, after it rang off you were faced with 5 miss calls from the woman. You noticed the time, you had missed lunch and dinner. You almost missed bedtime if you were being truthful to yourself, so you got up off the sofa and turned the tv off. You grabbed your phone again and headed to your bathroom to clean your teeth and get into your pjs. Once in bed you called Alexia back, who picked up after a couple rings.

“Y/n where did you go? Why did you miss training?” Her words were rushed as soon as she answered, which you felt a little bad about as she had been trying to get hold of you for a while now.

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts before answering Alexia’s question. You could hear the concern in her voice, which only made your heart ache more. It wasn’t anger or frustration—it was genuine worry. And yet, the events of the past couple of days had left you feeling vulnerable and disconnected.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you started quietly, not wanting your voice to crack. “Pere told me to go home, and I guess I just needed some time to rest. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls before I fell asleep on the sofa.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You could hear Alexia shifting slightly, probably trying to figure out the right words. She was good at taking a moment to make sure she said the correct thing, that she said everything she wanted and in a way that would be understood for what it was.

“I would’ve come with you if I knew,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or at least text me when you got home?”

“I did try to talk to you,” you replied, a bit sharper than you intended. You quickly softened your tone before continuing. “I was going to tell you before I left the training grounds but when I went to go over, I saw you were in a conversation with Chloe and I didn’t want to interrupt. I know what making her feel welcome into the team means to you so I just left, Patri dropped me home.”

Alexia was silent again, and you hated that your mind immediately went back to the image of Chloe standing so close to her earlier. You knew it was unreasonable to feel threatened, but the distance you’d been feeling from Alexia over the last couple of days was making everything worse. You knew Alexia and you knew that if she was even thinking about someone else in the way she thought about you, she would end things. It was a conversation the both of you had had very early in the relationship, it was better to say and end things than cause more heartache with something like cheating.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “I’ve been caught up with the new signings, especially Chloe. I wanted to help her settle in, but I didn’t realize I was neglecting you in the process.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as you listened to her. The fact that she acknowledged it made you feel a bit better, but it didn’t completely erase the weight that had been sitting on your chest. It still has happened.

“I get it, Ale. You’re the captain, and you’ve got responsibilities, but…” You trailed off, not sure how to express what you were feeling without coming across as needy or insecure.

“But what?” she asked gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I just… I don’t know. It feels like we haven’t really been us these past few days. Like we’re slipping apart, and I don’t want that.”

Alexia sighed softly, and you could almost picture her rubbing the back of her neck the way she always did when she was thinking hard about something.

“I don’t want that either,” she said after a moment. “I’m sorry, really. I’ve been so focused on the new season and everything happening with the team that I haven’t been present with you. That’s not fair.”

Tears stung your eyes at her words. You hated that you had been feeling so anxious and unsure about where you stood with her. The logical part of your brain knew that Alexia loved you deeply, but sometimes, your emotions got the better of you.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, finally letting a bit of the hurt spill out.

“I miss you too,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, when I get back, we’ll spend some real time together. Just the two of us.”

You wanted to believe her, to hold onto the comfort her words should have brought you, but as you lay there, phone pressed to your ear, something still felt off. The doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day didn’t vanish—they just simmered beneath the surface, waiting for another moment to creep back in. You tried to smile, to let her words sink in, but it felt hollow.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice weaker than you intended. There was a pause on the line, and for a second, you wondered if she could hear the uncertainty that was sitting heavy on your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you,” Alexia said, her tone soft but distant, and somehow it made you feel even worse.

“I love you too, Ale,” you replied automatically, though the words felt like they got caught in your throat. You wanted to believe them, wanted to believe her. But as you hung up the phone, the heavy silence in your room returned, and with it, the creeping feeling that maybe things weren’t as solid as you hoped.

You curled up under the covers, pulling them tighter around you, but instead of the calm you craved, a lingering unease settled deep in your chest. The conversation hadn’t been enough to ease your mind, and the distance between you two felt more real than ever. Alexia cared, you knew that, but it didn’t stop the doubts from pulling you under.

As much as you tried to push it aside, the little voice in your head that had been whispering insecurities all day grew louder. What if she’s getting tired of me? What if this distance between us is because she doesn’t want to be with me anymore? The more you thought about it, the more it felt like Alexia was slipping away, even though she’d just promised to spend more time with you. The doubts began to swirl again, faster now, and the pit in your stomach deepened.

Sure, Alexia had apologized, but what if it wasn’t just about her being busy with the new signings? What if she was using that as an excuse? You started picking apart every little detail from the past few days—how she barely interacted with you this morning, how she chose to spend time with Chloe instead of you, how easily she’d forgotten your plans for lunch with Patri and Claudia. Maybe she wasn’t as invested in the relationship anymore. Maybe she was realizing that being with you wasn’t what she wanted.

You buried your face in your pillow, fighting the creeping sense of rejection. No, this is just the anxiety talking. She loves you. She said she loves you, you reminded yourself, but it felt like a hollow reassurance. Even as you repeated it, the lingering doubt wouldn’t leave you. You wanted so badly to believe her words, to take them at face value, but the overthinking was louder than reason right now.

The phone in your hand vibrated again, pulling you out of your spiral for a moment. Alexia had sent you a text: I really don’t like how we left things. Can I come over? I’ll bring dinner. We can talk.

Your heart skipped at the message. On one hand, you wanted her here. You wanted her arms around you, her presence to quiet the storm in your mind. But on the other hand, you felt like having her here would only make your insecurities worse. What if she could see right through you? What if she could tell that you weren’t okay, that you doubted her? What if she was already tired of dealing with your anxieties, your overthinking?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed back: I think it’s better if I stay alone tonight. I might be getting sick, and I don’t want to give you anything. You’ve got enough on your plate with the new season and all.

You stared at the message, second-guessing every word. It wasn’t entirely a lie—you did feel off, emotionally and physically, but that wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want her to come over. You were scared. Scared that spending time with her would only confirm the worst of your fears. That she was growing tired of you, tired of your relationship.

After a few moments, your phone buzzed again with Alexia’s response: Are you sure? I can bring soup or tea, whatever you need. I don’t mind at all.

Her willingness to drop everything and come over only made you feel worse. How could you doubt someone who was so thoughtful, so caring? But the voice in your head persisted—what if she was just doing this out of obligation? What if she felt guilty? It wasn’t long before you convinced yourself that Alexia was only offering out of a sense of duty, not because she actually wanted to be with you tonight.

Yeah, I’m sure. You replied, forcing yourself to hit send before you could change your mind. I’ll be fine. Just need some rest.

You stared at your phone, waiting for her response, hoping she would fight harder to come over, hoping she would insist. But her next message came quickly, and it felt like a punch to the gut. Okay, rest up. Let me know if you need anything, cariño. I’ll see you tomorrow at training.

Simple. Kind. But it wasn’t the push you had been hoping for. She wasn’t coming over. Maybe she was relieved, you thought bitterly. Maybe she didn’t actually want to spend time with you after all. You hated that your mind kept going there, but the doubts kept clawing at you, relentless and cruel.

Curling up tighter in your bed, you told yourself that some space was good. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe by then, you’d feel less overwhelmed, and Alexia would feel closer again. But as you lay there, staring at the ceiling in the dark, the weight of your insecurities was heavier than ever. You didn’t want to lose her, but right now, it felt like that’s exactly what was happening, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you need anything. I love you. Get some good sleep, okay?

You read the message over and over, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. Relief, because Alexia wasn’t pushing you to talk when you didn’t feel ready. Disappointment, because a part of you had hoped she would sense your need for more; more reassurance, more connection, more confirmation that everything between you two was still okay. But she didn’t press further, and that left you with an emptiness that was hard to shake. Part of you knew that was silly, she had texted after your call and that should have helped but it just left you with a half full feeling. Like you were only worth that small extra effort.

As you lay there, your mind kept spiralling. You wanted to believe that this was just a rough patch, a phase, something that would pass after the season got into full swing. But the fear that something had shifted between you and Alexia lingered. You tried to push it away, to focus on the fact that she had said she loved you, that she was willing to drop everything for you. But the overthinking kept creeping back, whispering that maybe this was the beginning of the end.

You closed your eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around you, willing yourself to sleep. But even as exhaustion tugged at your body, your mind wouldn’t let go of the nagging doubts. You kept replaying the last few days in your head, every moment where Alexia had seemed distant, every conversation that had felt stilted or rushed. You hated how insecure it made you feel, but you couldn’t help it.

Alexia sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. She wants to call you, wants to check in, but hesitates. There’s a lump in her throat, a weight in her chest that won’t shift. You’d asked her for space, asked her not to hover, and she’s been trying, really trying, to respect that. But it’s hard. It’s so damn hard. It feels wrong to stay away, especially when she knows you’re not feeling well.

She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated with herself. She’s been distant lately and she understands that she’s not been around as much as she should have. Training, media obligations, new signings, everything’s been pulling her in different directions, and now, when you need her the most, she’s afraid she’s failing you. Alexia’s not used to feeling this way, like she’s not enough. But here she is, second-guessing everything and wondering why she let it get to this point.

What if you don’t even want her around anymore?

The thought hits her harder than she expects, and she feels a pang of guilt. You deserve someone better, someone who can be there, be present, and she’s been anything but lately. And now, with you sick, the fear creeps in even more. She worries that her attempts to give you space that you asked for might just be making things worse, that you might feel abandoned, even if that’s the last thing she ever wanted.

She presses her palms against her knees, trying to calm the whirlwind in her mind. The idea that she might not be enough, that she might not be the perfect girlfriend you deserve, gnaws at her. She’s scared she’s messing this up, that every move she makes might be the wrong one.

What if she’s not what you need right now? What if she’s been too caught up in her own world, too wrapped up in everything else to see what’s really going on with you?

Her phone buzzes, and for a moment, she thinks about texting you. But what would she even say? She feels torn, pulled between wanting to rush to your side and the fear that doing so would push you away.

She exhales sharply, setting the phone down, her hands now trembling slightly. She loves you, that much is very clear to her. But loving you and being there for you the way you deserve; it feels like two different things right now. She’s scared of being inadequate, of not living up to what you need.

In her heart, she wants to be the perfect girlfriend for you, the one who knows how to navigate all this with ease. Wants to know what you need without you having to say, wants to show you that there isn’t anyone better for you than her. But she’s scared, scared that she’s already failed.

That night, Alexia drives to your place. The streets are quiet, dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp, and the familiar route feels strange tonight, like she’s seeing it through a different lens. Her heart races the closer she gets, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.

When she finally pulls up outside, she kills the engine but doesn’t move. The silence in the car feels thick, almost oppressive, like it's pressing down on her chest. She knows she should get out, knock on your door, and just be there for you. It’s why she came, after all. But something keeps her glued to the driver’s seat, eyes fixed on the dashboard, mind spinning with uncertainty.

What if you don’t want her here?

She takes a deep breath and glances up at your window. The lights are off, maybe you’re already asleep, maybe you’ve had a long day. Her mind starts to drift even further. Maybe she’s too late. But even if you're still awake, there’s that nagging voice in her head that tells her she’s crossing a line, that you’d rather be alone. That she should have done this a few days ago not now, not when you asked her to stay away.

I shouldn’t have come.

She exhales, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. Every part of her wants to be close to you, to show up the way she should have sooner. She even reaches for the door handle, her heart pounding as she tells herself, Just get out, Ale. Just go inside and talk to her. Be there for her.

But her grip on the handle loosens, and she pulls her hand back.

What if showing up makes things worse? What if you’re still upset, still needing space, and all she does by being here is prove that she can’t respect that?

She closes her eyes for a moment, willing the doubts away, but they only get louder. She’s scared, scared that you’ll see right through her. Scared that, no matter how hard she tries, she’s already failed you.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushes the door open and steps out of the car. The night air hits her, cool and crisp, and she stands there, staring at your front door. Her feet move her a few steps closer, but then she stops, frozen halfway across the street. To any passerby she would look slightly crazy, standing in the middle of the street, car door open behind her and staring at a closed door. But alexia didn’t care, she couldn’t think about anything else other than you.

She could knock, could tell you everything that’s been going through her head, but what if it’s too much? What if it’s too soon?

Alexia takes a deep breath and steps back, retreating to the safety of her car. She sits there, hands resting on the wheel again, feeling like a coward. But the thought of doing the wrong thing, of making things harder for you, keeps her from getting back out the car.

Tomorrow, she thinks. Tomorrow I’ll speak to her.

It’s a promise she makes to herself, hoping that maybe, with a little more time, she’ll find the right words.

The next morning, you woke up feeling no better than the night before. If anything, the pit in your stomach had only grown. You glanced at your phone, half-expecting to see a message from Alexia, but there was nothing. No good morning text, no follow-up to check on you. That left a really bitter feeling inside of you, one that you hated feeling for two reasons. One, you knew in your heart she wasn’t trying to make you feel that way, and two because you felt that way.

As you dragged yourself out of bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You tried to convince yourself that Alexia was just busy, that she was giving you space like you asked. But deep down, the doubt gnawed at you. What if the space you asked for was pushing her further away?

You knew you needed to talk to her, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting your feelings made you anxious. What if she confirmed your worst fears? What if she said she wasn’t sure about the relationship anymore? You weren’t sure you could handle that.

Still, as you got ready for training, you decided to talk to her today. No more avoiding the conversation. You needed to know what was happening, you needed to clear things up. Not only for your relationship but for your own mind. There was a small voice at the back of your head telling you that speaking to Alexia about why this has happened might be a good idea, but you ignored that for the moment. That would mean showing those deep insecurities. And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

With the decision made, you grabbed your things and headed out the door, hoping that today would bring some clarity and maybe, just maybe, the reassurance you desperately needed.

Stepping out of the building, you're caught off guard. Alexia is there, leaning against her car, arms folded, sunglasses perched on her nose. She straightens up the moment she spots you, waving casually as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Which a week ago it would have been.

"Hey," she says lightly, her tone casual, maybe a little too casual. Stop reading so much into it y/n.

"Hey," you respond, trying to hide your confusion. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

She shrugs, unlocking the car with a beep. "Thought I’d give you a lift to training. I know Patri picked you up and dropped you home yesterday. I also wanted to check on you properly. How’re you feeling?"

There’s a pause, you are unsure if she’s asking about how you're feeling physically or mentally. "I’m... fine. Maybe a bit tired." Short and sweet, that will do for now.

"Yeah, it’s been a long week," she comments, sliding into the driver’s seat. You follow, buckling in, and the car hums to life as she pulls out onto the road. For a moment, the silence sits between you two, neither of you quite sure how to fill it.

"Traffic’s light today," she notes, glancing briefly at you. "Should get there in no time."

You nod, grateful for the small talk. "Yeah, that’s good."

Another beat of quiet passes.

"Did you see the new kit design?" she asks, her tone light, as if she’s trying to keep the conversation safe.

"Yeah, I did. Looks pretty sharp, though I’m not sure about the neon stripes," you reply, relaxing into the seat a little.

She chuckles softly. "Not a fan?"

You crack a small smile. "Not really my thing. Maybe it’ll grow on me."

The conversation fades again, but this time it feels easier, more comfortable. She’s not pushing, not prying into anything deeper. It feels like both of you are skirting around something bigger, but for now, the surface level is just fine.

Before long, you arrive at the training centre. Alexia leads you inside, where the trainers are waiting. The check-up is routine, some stretches, a few prods here and there and soon, they clear you to train.

"You’re good to go," the head trainer tells you with a nod.

As you step out onto the pitch, Alexia lingers nearby, not hovering, but subtly making sure you’re all right. During the water breaks, she’s quick to hand you a bottle, reminding you to stay hydrated. It's nothing overt, just small gestures that don’t go unnoticed by you.

Training passes, and as you finish up, wiping the sweat from your face and stretching out your tired muscles, you see her approaching again. This time, there’s something different in her expression.

"You did well today," she says with a small, approving smile.

"Thanks," you reply, sensing the shift in the air, the conversation about to take a more serious turn.

She hesitates for a second, then takes a deep breath. "Look... do you want to come back to mine? We need to talk. I think we’re overdue for it."

Her words hang between you both, but the way she says it feels less like a confrontation and more like an invitation. There’s no pressure, no demand, just a simple request.

You meet her gaze, unsure of what this conversation will bring, but knowing it’s inevitable. Whatever is currently going on with you two needs to be addressed and soon. Neither of you enjoying your current situation and definitely not wanting it to continue on this way.

"Yeah," you say, surprising yourself with how quickly the word comes out. "Let’s go."

You hesitate to take the hand Alexia reaches out in front of you, but when she gives you that small smile and slight tilt of her head you can’t help but grab on. You are once again conflicted when she lets go once you are on your feet, but when she awkwardly scratches at her neck as she gestures for you to start walking you can’t help the affection for her that rises in your chest.

The drive to Alexia’s is quiet, not awkward, but there’s a tension that hangs in the air. The radio plays softly in the background, a low hum of noise filling the silence as neither of you speaks much. You glance at her now and then, noticing how her hands grip the wheel just a little too tight, how her jaw seems tense. She’s trying to seem calm, but you know her well enough to see the nerves beneath the surface.

When you arrive at her apartment, Alexia unlocks the door and once again gestures for you to go inside first. You step in, and the familiarity of her space washes over you, a space that’s been shared so many times, but tonight feels different. She lingers by the door for a moment, taking a breath before following you in.

You both sit down on the couch, a little distance between you. Alexia fidgets with her fingers, playing with her rings, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. Finally, she speaks, her voice softer than usual, almost unsure.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting yours. “I wanted to, but... I didn’t know if you’d want me there.”

You sit quietly, listening, waiting for her to continue. You know it is only fair to let her finish without interrupting, your time to speak will come.

“I know I haven’t been... the best lately. I’ve been distant, and I can’t even explain why in a way that makes sense,” she admits, her voice wavering slightly. “And then when you got sick... I wanted to be there for you. I should have been there, but you asked for space, and I didn’t want to make things worse.” You could hear the sadness and longing in her voice as she spoke, it made your heart hurt a little more thinking about how this has negatively affected her as well as you.

She looks down, her fingers twisting together nervously. “But I just kept second-guessing everything. Like, if I showed up, I’d be doing the wrong thing. And maybe... maybe you don’t even want me around anymore.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and vulnerability. She’s never said anything like this before, never doubted herself like this when it came to your relationship. When it came to you.

You feel the weight of her worry, and it’s clear that she’s been wrestling with this more than you realized. Had you not been the best girlfriend either? Had she been worrying about this for more than just the last few days? There’s a long pause before she speaks again.

“I’m scared I’m not the girlfriend you deserve,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like I’m failing you... like I haven’t been there when you needed me most.”

Her eyes finally meet yours, and they’re filled with doubt, something you’re not used to seeing in her. Alexia, who’s always so composed, so sure of herself, now looks like she’s bracing for something, maybe rejection, maybe confirmation that her fears are true.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. You know this talk has been coming, but hearing her say it, seeing her so vulnerable, hits you differently. There's a part of you that wants to just reach out and hold her, to tell her it’s all okay, but you know this conversation needs to happen. You know that the both of you need to communicate these feelings and work on how you can do it without it getting to this stage again, if there is going to be again.

“Alexia...” you start, choosing your words carefully, “I never said I didn’t want you around. I asked for space because I needed it, not because I wanted you out of my life.”

She nods slowly, but her expression remains uncertain. You continue, “I’ve been going through a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It’s just... sometimes I need to figure things out on my own. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Alexia exhales, her shoulders sagging a little in relief, but the tension is still there. “I just... I feel like I haven’t been enough lately. I’ve been so focused on everything else that I haven’t made time for us, for you, and then when you needed me most, I just... froze.”

You shift closer to her, your hand gently resting on hers. “I know you’re busy. I never expected you to be around all the time, Ale. I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be... present. To be you.”

Her eyes soften at your words, and she looks down at your hand that is soft on top of hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice steadier now. “I’ll do better. I want to be better, for you. For us.”

You nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. It’s not about perfection, not about always getting it right. It’s about showing up, about trying, even when it’s hard, even when doubts creep in.

“I just need us to be open with each other,” you say. “If you’re feeling off or distant, tell me. If you’re unsure about something, we’ll figure it out together. But don’t shut me out, and don’t shut yourself down thinking you’re not enough. And I’ll do better too. I have had so many insecure thoughts over the last few days and I’m sorry for those. I’m sorry that you get affected by them and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you about them. That wasn’t fair of me.”

You take a second to think about what you want to say next. Alexia’s eyes stay locked on yours, her expression softening even more as she listens. Her hand tightens just slightly around yours, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of what you’re both sharing. The tension between you eases further, but the conversation isn’t over yet.

You take a breath, choosing your next words carefully, wanting to make sure she understands where you're coming from.

“I’ve been in my head a lot,” you admit, your voice steady but full of emotion. “I thought that maybe you weren’t showing up because I wasn’t... worth it. That you were pulling away because I’ve been too much to handle. And instead of talking to you about how I was feeling, I just let it build up. I guess I was scared that saying it out loud would make it real.”

Alexia’s brow furrows as she shakes her head gently. “You’re never too much,” she says quietly, her thumb still brushing softly over your hand. “I never want you to feel that way. I hate that you’ve been carrying that, and I didn’t know. That I couldn’t help.”

You nod, grateful for her words but also aware of how important it is to keep the lines of communication open moving forward. “I know you care, I do. I just... I need to trust that more. And I need to talk to you when I’m struggling, not shut you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Alexia leans in closer, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ll both do better. We’ll figure this out together. You’re not alone in this. I want to be there for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I wasn’t.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you, and for the first time in days, it feels like the distance that had crept between you is finally closing. There’s a warmth in the room now, a sense of mutual understanding and a willingness to do better, together.

“I don’t need us to be perfect,” you say softly. “I just need to know that we’re in this together. That we can lean on each other, even when things aren’t easy.”

Alexia nods, her eyes shining with emotion. “We are. I promise. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. The silence that falls between you now isn’t heavy or filled with uncertainty. It’s peaceful, comforting.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

For now, the words are enough. There’s more to work through, more conversations to be had, but you know that you’re both committed to making this work. And for the first time in a while, you both feel like you're on solid ground again.

Alexia pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you, and you sink into the embrace. The weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope for what comes next.

After the heaviness of the conversation finally lifts, you and Alexia share a soft smile, the tension replaced by a quiet, comforting peace. The air between you feels lighter, and as if sensing the shift, Alexia’s lips curve into a small grin.

“How about we get some takeout?” she suggests, her voice playful yet warm. “I don’t feel like cooking, and I think we both deserve a break tonight.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement. “That sounds perfect. I could definitely go for some comfort food.”

It doesn’t take long before you’ve both decided on your usual, something easy and satisfying. The soft glow of the kitchen light reflects off Alexia’s face as she places the order, her expression more relaxed than it’s been in days. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief, like things are finally settling back into place.

Not long after, the smell of freshly delivered food fills the room, and you both settle on the sofa, plates balanced on your laps, the comfort of being together in the small, familiar space wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Movie?” Alexia asks, already flicking through the streaming options.

“Nothing too heavy,” you say with a smile. “Something we can just zone out to.”

She nods in agreement, finally settling on a classic comedy that always makes you both laugh. As the opening credits roll, you finish your food and tuck yourself into her side, her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

As the movie plays, the light from the screen flickers softly against the walls, casting a warm glow over the room. You’re snuggled close into Alexia’s side, her arm still draped around your shoulders, fingers lazily tracing small patterns on your arm. The comfort of it all makes you feel more at ease than you’ve felt in days.

At some point, the film becomes background noise. You’re more focused on the way Alexia’s thumb brushes your skin or the occasional glance you catch of her watching you instead of the movie. You shift slightly, turning your face up toward her, and her gaze softens as your eyes meet.

Alexia smiles, a tender warmth in her expression, and you can’t help but lean in. The first kiss is soft, almost shy, like you’re both still figuring out the rhythm after the tension of the last few days. Her lips linger against yours for a moment longer than usual, and when you pull back, you see the quiet joy in her eyes, a silent thank you for being open and honest with her, for being here.

Without a word, you lean in again, your lips meeting hers in a series of soft, gentle kisses. They’re unhurried, sweet, filled with a quiet kind of affection that says more than words could in this moment. Alexia’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb grazing your jawline as she deepens the kiss slightly, but it’s still slow, still soft.

When you finally pull away, her forehead rests against yours, her breath mingling with yours as you both smile, the movie all but forgotten now.

“I missed this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the quiet moment.

“Me too,” you whisper back, brushing a kiss on the corner of her lips, your hands finding their way into hers.

She presses another kiss to your lips, this one lingering, and you both relax into the warmth of each other, the world outside fading as the night slips by.

There’s no rush, just the two of you, lost in the soft comfort of being close, the rest of the night spent in quiet kisses and shared smiles, wrapped up in each other as the movie plays on in the background. There is no need for more words tonight. You both know you’re in this together, that the promise made earlier will be something you will both work at together. And for right now, that’s enough.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fic #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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pdriesta · 3 days

Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

“i want something that i know is real”

pairings — judexblack!girl

genres — fluff, slow burn, workplace romance (she’s a pt)

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 6.3k

summary — y/n, a rising physiotherapist, has just been promoted to work with real madrid's men's team. after a difficult breakup, she's determined to keep things professional. but when jude bellingham, the club's charming new star, sets his sights on her, maintaining boundaries becomes harder than ever. can she resist the pull, or will she risk everything for a love she swore she’d never fall for again?

an — the last chapter 🥲 i can’t even put into words how much i appreciate the love and support even after deleting my blog seeing the same accounts comment and like these chapters has never failed to make me happy! i am beyond grateful. if you’re still interested this couple, i’ll be releasing blurb series. the first one is posted and requests are open <3

masterlist

the room was a blur of activity, voices overlapping as the medical team worked efficiently around jude. he sat there, trying to focus on the steady stream of questions and instructions being thrown his way, but his mind kept drifting back to the moment it all went wrong.

the match had been intense, emotions running high, and jude had let his temper get the best of him. he remembered the argument with the opposing player, the heated words exchanged, the rush of adrenaline that followed. it was all so vivid in his mind—how he’d felt the anger simmering beneath his skin, how he’d wanted to prove himself in that split second, to win the ball, to show he wasn’t one to back down.

but then it happened. they both went up for the header, and time seemed to stretch out in front of him. the roar of the crowd faded into the background as he focused on the ball, his body moving instinctively. he remembered the sensation of losing his balance, the way the ground seemed to rise up to meet him, the sickening thud as his head hit the turf. the world tilted, the lights above blurring into a dizzying swirl, and for a moment, everything went black.

now, back in the medical room, jude felt the residual throbbing in his head, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of his heart. his family was there—his mom, denise, hovering close by with worry etched into her features; his dad, mark, standing stoically but with an unmistakable tension in his posture; and his younger brother, jobe, sitting quietly in the corner, his wide eyes filled with concern.

y/n was there too, but she kept her distance, her eyes avoiding his. jude could tell she was upset—really upset—by the way she kept herself apart from the others, by the tightness in her expression that she couldn’t quite hide. she only stepped forward when one of the other medics called for her, her movements precise and professional, but there was an underlying tension in everything she did.

jude couldn’t shake the feeling that she was mad at him, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. maybe it was because he’d been reckless, because he’d let his emotions get the better of him on the pitch. maybe it was because she’d seen the whole thing happen, the way he went down, the way he didn’t get back up right away. the thought of her worrying, of her being scared for him, gnawed at him.

they ran through the tests—checking his reflexes, his coordination, asking him questions to assess his memory and cognition. jude answered as best he could, but his focus kept drifting back to y/n. he hated that she was so distant, that she wouldn’t even look at him. it hurt more than the injury itself.

“he’s going to be okay, right?” denise asked one of the medics, her voice trembling slightly.

“we’re running all the necessary tests, mrs. bellingham,” the medic replied calmly, “but so far, everything looks stable. we’ll have a better idea once we review the scans.”

jude’s parents exchanged a worried glance, but denise nodded, trying to stay strong. jobe looked over at jude, his young face pale with concern.

“you’ll be fine, jude,” jobe said softly, trying to sound confident, though his voice wavered just a bit.

jude managed a small smile, wanting to reassure his brother, but the heaviness in his chest remained. when the tests were finally over, his mom asked if he needed help getting home, and mark added, “we can get you settled in, jude. don’t worry about anything.”

“actually,” denise said, glancing over at y/n, “maybe y/n could take you home? you two spend a lot of time together, and she knows how to take care of you.”

the room seemed to freeze at that suggestion, the tension thickening. jude saw the way y/n stiffened at his mom’s words, how she hesitated before nodding, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“yeah… sure. i’ll take him home,” y/n said quietly, her voice tinged with something jude couldn’t quite place.

jude watched as y/n carefully checked his vitals, her fingers deftly adjusting the blood pressure cuff around his arm. even in her quiet, focused state, she was breathtaking. he couldn’t help but study her—how the light caught in her braids, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, and how every now and then, her lips would press into a thin line, as if she was holding something back. he knew she was upset with him, and it pained him more than the throbbing in his head.

he thought back to earlier, to how her distance had been like a wall between them, and how badly he wanted to break through it. it wasn’t just that she was pulling back; it was the way she did it, so carefully and deliberately, as if she was trying to protect herself from him. it killed him to think that his actions had made her feel this way, that he’d been the cause of her worry, of her pain. he’d been reckless, and now she was paying the price for it.

“baby,” he whispered, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

y/n froze at the sound of his voice, her hand stilling on his arm. for a moment, she didn’t move, and jude’s heart sank, fearing that he’d overstepped, that he’d made things worse. but then she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and jude felt his heart crack open.

“why are you crying?” he asked gently, reaching out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

y/n shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to find the right words. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m sorry for being so distant… it’s just—” she paused, taking a shaky breath, her eyes glistening as she continued, “the replay looked so bad, jude. i thought you had a brain injury, or worse… and i couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened to you.”

jude’s heart ached at her words, at the raw emotion in her voice. he could see how much she was struggling, how much this had affected her, and it made him feel even worse for having been the cause of it. he shushed her gently, his hand moving to cradle her face, trying to offer her some comfort.

“hey, i’m okay,” he murmured, guiding her hand to his cheek so she could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his pulse beneath her fingers. “i’m right here, love. i’m okay.”

y/n let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just… i feel it every time you go out there, every time you risk your body like that. and today, seeing you go down like that… it scared me so much. i couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

her voice cracked, and jude could see how much she was holding back, how hard she was trying to keep it together. he wanted to pull her into his arms, to tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she needed to get this out, to say what was on her heart.

“it’s not just today, jude,” she went on, her voice trembling with emotion. “i think… i think i’ve always felt this way, even before i realized it. it’s like, every time i see you, my heart just… it does this thing where it skips a beat, and i can hardly breath. i try to ignore it, but i can’t.”

she paused, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her courage. jude held his breath, sensing that she was about to say something that would change everything between them.

“i love you,” she finally confessed, the words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “i’m in love with you, jude. i’ve probably always loved you… from the moment i laid eyes on you, you just… you never left me alone. no matter how much i tried to keep things professional, to keep my distance, you kept finding ways to break through. and i’m scared, jude. i’m so scared of what this means, of what could happen… but i can’t ignore it anymore. i love you, jude.”

the weight of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and full of meaning. jude felt his heart swell with emotion, a rush of warmth flooding through him at her confession. she loved him. she loved him. it was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, everything he’d been hoping for since the moment he first saw her.

he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, as if he could protect her from all the fears and uncertainties that were swirling around them. “i love you too,” he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve loved you since that day you took care of me when i was sick… maybe even before that. you’re everything to me, y/n. everything.”

she clung to him, her breath hitching as she tried to process the magnitude of what they’d just shared. jude pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as he breathed her in, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin. he’d been so scared of losing her, so afraid that he’d pushed her too far, but now… now everything felt right.

“i’m sorry i scared you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “i never want to make you worry like that again. but i promise you, y/n, i’ll always do my best to come back to you. always.”

y/n nodded, her tears slipping down her cheeks as she held onto him, her heart finally at peace. “i know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “i know, jude. and i’ll always be here for you. no matter what.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of them in that room, together. for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was exactly as it should be. they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

the morning light streamed through the curtains of y/n’s bedroom, casting a warm glow on the space as jude slowly blinked awake. the memories of last night still lingered in the air between them—soft confessions of love that had left them both feeling light and warm, a tenderness that neither of them could shake off.

jude turned his head, eyes landing on y/n, who was already up and dressed, fussing with something at her bedside table. he couldn’t help but smile as he watched her, still wrapped up in her oversized t-shirt that he had insisted she wear—one of his favorites that practically swallowed her whole, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs. she was gorgeous, and he felt a twinge of guilt for making her worry so much yesterday, the fear in her eyes when he’d gotten hurt replaying in his mind.

“good morning, mi amor,” she said softly, noticing he was awake. the endearment slipped easily from her lips, a habit she hadn’t quite realized she’d picked up. she leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, mindful of his injury. “how are you feeling?”

“better,” jude replied, his voice still thick with sleep. “could get used to waking up like this.”

y/n smiled, brushing a hand through his curls, and for a moment, they both just enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

but jude, ever the tease, wasn’t content with just that. he slid his hand to the back of her knee, tugging her gently closer. “you know, you could make me feel even better if you come back to bed…”

she rolled her eyes playfully, swatting his hand away. “nice try, bellingham. doctor’s orders—no physical activity that could aggravate your head, and that includes whatever you’re trying to start.”

jude groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows. “stop teasing me, baby. you can’t just look all sexy in my shirt and then not let me touch you.”

“i’m not teasing you,” y/n shot back, trying to hide her smile. “i’m just trying to keep you safe, you big baby. besides, i’m not the one who decided to start a fight on the pitch.”

“i wasn’t fighting,” jude mumbled, though he knew it was a weak defense. “just... heated discussions.”

“uh-huh,” she said, not buying it for a second. “well, heated discussions or not, you’re under my care now, so no funny business. doctor’s orders.”

jude pouted, but he knew she was right. still, it didn’t stop him from reaching out to grab her wrist, pulling her down onto the bed beside him. “just five more minutes, please?” he pleaded, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made it hard for her to resist.

“five minutes,” y/n relented, settling beside him and letting him pull her close. she felt his warmth seep into her, and despite her better judgment, she let herself relax into him, her head resting on his chest. “but no funny business.”

“promise,” jude murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. he felt her sigh against him, her breath warm against his skin, and for a moment, everything felt right in the world.

as they lay there, the lightness of their confession still hanging between them, jude couldn’t help but think about how much he adored her, how every little thing she did seemed to make him fall even harder. the way she fussed over him, how she was constantly updating his family on his condition, how she’d made sure he was as comfortable as possible—he loved every bit of it.

he especially loved how close she was with his mum. every time y/n picked up her phone to send another update, jude couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. knowing that his family trusted her, that his mum was reassured by her care, made his heart swell.

“i like that you and my mum are close,” jude admitted quietly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. “makes me so happy.”

“she’s wonderful,” y/n said, tilting her head to look up at him. “and she cares about you so much. i’m just glad i can help ease her worries a bit.”

“she likes you, you know,” jude said, his voice teasing. “she keeps asking me when i’m gonna make an honest woman out of you.”

y/n laughed softly, but she couldn’t help the flutter in her chest at his words. “oh, is that so? and what did you tell her?”

“told her that you’re mine, and that’s all that matters,” he replied with a grin, pulling her closer. “but don’t worry, baby. i’ll work on the ‘honest woman’ part.”

she blushed, the implications of his words making her heart race. “you better, my mom and aunties have the wedding already planned. you can’t put a price on me, mr. bellingham. do you think you deserve me?”

“i know i do because you love me. no other man could take care of you like i can,” jude shot back, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “yeah, yeah. now, let me check your head before you get any more ideas.”

“always so bossy,” jude teased, though there was no bite to his words. “turns me on.”

y/n huffed a laugh, gently moving his face away with a light shove. “don’t even start,” she said, though she couldn’t help the fondness in her voice. “you’re supposed to be resting.”

“i am resting,” he protested, catching her hand in his. “just resting better now that you’re here.”

y/n shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, leaning down to brush her lips against his once more. “now behave, or i’ll have to call your mum and tell her you’re being difficult.”

“you wouldn’t dare,” jude gasped, feigning shock.

“try me,” she shot back, smirking as she sat up to check his bandage. “now, sit still, or i’ll add ‘uncooperative patient’ to my report.”

jude couldn’t help but laugh, loving how easily they fell into this playful banter. the way she cared for him, how she balanced between strict and loving—it made him fall even more for her. and as they spent the day together, with her tending to his every need and him trying to push her buttons just enough to get a reaction, jude couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this—a life where they shared these little moments, where she was always there to look after him, to keep him in line, to love him the way she did.

and as the day drew on, with the light fading and the warmth of their shared confessions still lingering, jude found himself feeling more content than he ever had. because in her, he had found everything he’d ever wanted—someone who challenged him, cared for him, and loved him with a heart so pure and true that he couldn’t help but love her back just as fiercely.

and for jude, that was more than enough.

the next day, y/n’s place was a full house. jude had a bit of time off to recover, and it seemed like everyone wanted to pitch in, making sure he got better. the sun streamed through the windows, filling the space with warmth as laughter echoed off the walls. y/n’s mom had arrived early, her arms full of groceries and herbal remedies she swore would have jude back on his feet in no time.

denise, jude’s mom, wasn’t far behind, bringing homemade soup that she claimed was a family secret for healing. it didn’t take long for y/n’s mom and denise to strike up a conversation, the two women instantly connecting as they compared notes on how to best take care of their kids. y/n watched them from the kitchen, her heart swelling with affection at how easily they got along. it felt right, having both families together like this.

jude, seated on the couch, couldn’t help but smile as he observed the scene. the sight of y/n moving around her home, effortlessly playing hostess, made him feel a sense of contentment he hadn’t known he needed. he loved seeing her like this, surrounded by the people she loved, comfortable in her own space. and it didn’t hurt that she kept sneaking glances his way, her eyes soft with affection every time they met his.

“hey auntie,” jude called out with a grin when y/n’s mom entered the living room, holding up a jar of some mystery concoction. “what’s that you’ve got there?”

y/n’s mom shot him a mock-serious look, her lips twitching with amusement. “this, my child, is going to help you heal faster than anything those doctors can give you.”

jude chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. “i believe you, auntie. if it means getting better faster, i’m all for it.”

she finally cracked a smile, her eyes warm as she looked at him. “that’s what i like to hear. now, i know denise here has her soup, but you’re going to take this too. we’ve got to get you back on that pitch, don’t we?”

“yes, ma’am,” jude replied, his tone respectful, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. “you’re the boss.”

“good boy,” she said, patting his shoulder affectionately before turning to y/n. “and you, my beautiful daughter, make sure he takes this every morning. no slacking, got it?”

y/n nodded, trying to suppress her grin. “yes, mama. i’ll make sure of it.”

meanwhile, jobe and y/n’s brother, mateo, were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. they’d hit it off immediately, both sharing a love for football and an endless supply of banter.

“so, how’s it feel to be the little brother of a superstar?” mateo teased, nudging jobe with his elbow.

jobe rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile on his face. “it’s not too bad, i guess. but don’t tell jude i said that. his ego’s big enough as it is.”

mateo laughed, clapping jobe on the back. “don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. besides, i’m pretty sure he knows it already.”

“oh, he definitely does,” jobe said, glancing over at his brother. “but you know what? he deserves it. he’s worked hard to get where he is.”

“true,” mateo agreed, his tone more serious now. “and from what i’ve seen, he’s a good guy too. you’re lucky to have him as a brother.”

jobe nodded, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, i am. and it’s nice to see him happy, you know? especially with y/n. she’s good for him.”

mateo glanced over at his sister, who was now standing with jude, both of them laughing at something y/n’s mom had said. “yeah, she is,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection. “they’re good for each other.”

as the day went on, the house was filled with warmth and laughter. y/n’s mom continued to fuss over jude, making sure he was comfortable and well-fed. denise joined in, the two women bonding over their shared love for their children and their determination to see jude back to full health.

“you know, jude,” y/n’s mom said at one point, sitting beside him on the couch, “you’re like a son to me now. you take care of my daughter, and we’ll take care of you.”

jude felt a lump form in his throat at her words, the sincerity in her tone hitting him right in the chest. “thank you, auntie,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “that means a lot to me.”

she reached out, patting his cheek with a motherly affection that made him feel warm all over. “you’re a good boy, jude. we’re lucky to have you in our family.”

he smiled at that, his heart swelling with gratitude. “i’m the lucky one,” he murmured, his eyes meeting y/n’s across the room. she smiled back at him, her eyes filled with so much love it made his chest tighten.

“he really is,” denise chimed in, her voice light and full of pride. “and we’re so grateful to have y/n in his life. she’s been nothing but a blessing.”

“oh, don’t get me started on how much i love that girl,” y/n’s mom said with a laugh. “she’s always been the best of us.”

jude listened to them talk, his heart so full it felt like it might burst. he loved that their families were coming together like this, that the people he cared about most were finding comfort and companionship in each other. it made everything feel more real, more solid. like they were building something that would last.

as the afternoon wore on, the atmosphere remained light and filled with love. y/n’s mom kept him supplied with tea and herbal remedies, while denise made sure he had everything else he needed. jobe and mateo continued their banter, occasionally roping jude in when they needed a third opinion on whatever argument they were having.

the warm hum of conversation filled y/n's living room as their families mingled effortlessly, laughter spilling into the air. y/n sat nestled comfortably beside jude, his arm slung lazily over her shoulders as they watched their families interact like they’d known each other for years. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, bonding over cooking tips, while her brothers hovered around the snack table, throwing sly glances her way every now and then.

carlos, always the one to start trouble, leaned back with a mischievous smirk. “so jude, be honest,” he called out, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention. “are you tired of how bossy y/n is? how many times has she told you what to do?”

mateo snickered beside him, chiming in. “yeah, man, because we know y/n—she’s always telling us off.”

without missing a beat, jude grinned, a cheeky glint in his eye. “oh, trust me,” he said, voice dropping suggestively, “i don’t mind her bossing me around… especially when—”

y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she shot up from the couch, grabbing at jude’s arm. “don't you dare finish that sentence,” she groaned, trying to pull away, but he only laughed, dragging her back down to his side with ease, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, to which y/n met with a playful sideways glance.

“what? i was just being honest,” he teased, his voice low but full of amusement.

her brothers looked visibly disgusted. alejandro covered his face with his hand. "we don’t need to know what happens behind closed doors, man.”

mateo pointed at them both, face scrunched in mock disgust. “yeah, no one wants to hear about our baby sister doing… whatever that is.”

“seriously, pack it up,” carlos added, shaking his head. “this is a family gathering, not… whatever this is.”

y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you’re all so dramatic.”

“seriously,” jude added with a smirk, pulling her closer. “it’s just because i’m the only one here who knows how to keep a woman like y/n happy.”

y/n's eyes widened as she pinched his side, hissing under her breath. “jude, shut up or i'll kill you!”

“what?” jude laughed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “it’s the truth.”

“god, jude,” mateo groaned, dramatically covering his face. “that’s so corny. i think i just threw up in my mouth a little.”

alejandro waved a hand in front of his face. “someone send this boy back to england. we get it, you’re obsessed with my sister.”

jude only laughed harder, leaning into the joke. “what can i say? i’m a man in love.”

carlos pretended to gag. “pack it up, hermano. we don’t need to see all that.”

alejandro shook his head, feigning disgust. “we’ll be fine without my baby sister getting mounted by her boyfriend infront of us, thanks. but really, y/n—how did you manage to do this to a man. he's too soft. it's disgusting.”

“right?” mateo agreed. “this dude was supposed to be cool. now he’s all… whipped.”

jude just laughed, squeezing her affectionately. “hey, i was always a charmer. i won you guys over, didn’t i?”

“please. just stop speaking,” mateo groaned again, holding up his hands as if to ward off more cheesiness. “i beg of you.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile on her lips. despite the relentless teasing, she knew how much her brothers cared about her, and seeing how easily jude fit into their dynamic made her heart swell.

their banter continued, the playful teasing bouncing back and forth, but through it all, y/n couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. despite the jokes and teasing, it was clear how much her brothers cared—not just for her, but for jude too. and seeing their two families blend so seamlessly made her heart swell with happiness.

as the day drew to a close, y/n found herself sitting beside jude on the couch, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as they watched jobe and mateo argue about something trivial. her mom and denise were in the kitchen, chatting and laughing like they’d known each other for years.

“if we get more days like this. i’ll die a happy man,” jude murmured, his voice soft in her ear.

“today was a good day,” y/n agreed, her voice just as quiet. “i’m glad everyone came together like this.”

“me too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i love you, y/n.”

she smiled, turning her head to look up at him. “i love you too, jude.”

and in that moment, with their families around them and the love they shared filling the room, everything felt perfect. they were building something real, something lasting. and y/n knew, without a doubt, that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

the next morning, jude woke up with an idea. it was simple, but it felt like the right thing to do. after the whirlwind of the past few days—the stolen kisses, the moments they shared, and y/n taking care of him when he was sick—he knew she deserved something special. something that would show her just how much she meant to him without overwhelming her with words.

his plan came together quickly, thanks to her brothers and jobe, who were more than willing to help out. while y/n was busy at the training facility, working her usual long hours, they got to work.

later that evening, when y/n came home, jude was already waiting for her at the door, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous smile.

“what’s with that look?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him, already suspicious but curious.

he chuckled, reaching for her hand. “come with me. i’ve got a surprise for you.”

“another one? you’ve been full of surprises lately,” she teased, letting him gently pull her toward the car, her heart already racing a little with excitement. there was something about the way he held her hand, firm but soft, that made her feel like whatever he had planned would be unforgettable.

they drove through the city, the setting sun casting a soft golden glow over madrid’s streets. slowly, the cityscape gave way to quieter roads, the urban sprawl replaced by the peaceful, open stretch toward the coast. y/n glanced at jude, who was focused on the road but never let go of her hand. her mind was buzzing, trying to piece together what he was planning, but her heart told her to simply trust him. whatever it was, it was going to be special.

after a while, jude pulled up to a secluded beach just outside the city. the gentle sound of waves greeted them as they stepped out of the car, the salty air filling their lungs. the beach was completely empty except for one beautiful setup by the shore—a large canopy draped in soft white fabric, twinkling fairy lights strung across the top, with a low table set for two underneath. candles flickered gently in the evening breeze, and a cozy arrangement of blankets and cushions were scattered across the sand.

y/n’s jaw dropped. “jude… what is this?”

“i wanted to do something for you,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “you’ve done so much for me. taking care of me, introducing me to your family… i wanted to make tonight about you. no distractions, just us. and your brothers—alejandro, matteo, and carlos and jobe helped me out.”

her heart melted at the thought. she looked around the beach, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it all was. “this is… this is incredible,” she whispered.

“you deserve it,” he said, his voice gentle as he took her hand again, leading her down toward the canopy. “come on, let’s eat.”

as they sat under the glow of the fairy lights, the waves lapping quietly at the shore, jude couldn’t stop watching her. the way her eyes sparkled as she took everything in, the soft smile that never left her lips—it made his heart swell. this was it. this was where he wanted to be, with her, always.

“you really went all out for this,” y/n murmured, brushing her hand across the soft blanket beneath her.

“well, i had some help,” jude chuckled. “alejandro’s got a real eye for this kind of thing. matteo and carlos handled the heavy lifting, and jobe… well, he mostly just took notes for when it’s his turn.”

y/n laughed, the sound like music to jude’s ears. “i can’t believe you got them to do all this without me noticing.”

jude shrugged, grinning. “they love you. and i may have told them it was payback for you taking care of me when i was sick.”

her smile widened, her heart swelling even more at the thought of her brothers working with jude to make this night so special for her. “they’re going to lord this over me forever, you know. especially alejandro.”

jude leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, he did say something about being ‘the best brother ever,’ but honestly? i think he’s just happy to see you happy.”

y/n’s chest tightened with emotion. her brothers and jude—these were the people who mattered most to her. to see them come together like this, to make her feel so loved, so cherished, it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

they ate, laughed, and talked for hours, their conversation flowing easily as the stars twinkled overhead. the world around them grew quieter, as if the night itself was making room for just the two of them. at one point, jude reached across the table, taking her hand, his thumb gently tracing circles over her knuckles.

“i’ve never had anything like this before,” he said quietly, his voice thoughtful.

y/n looked up from her plate, her brow furrowing slightly. “like what?”

“this,” jude said, gesturing vaguely at the beach setup, but meaning so much more. “family. love. everything coming together the way it has. it’s like… everything’s falling into place.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. she could see it in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity behind his words. he wasn’t just talking about the night. he was talking about her, about them. about everything they’d been building together. and in that moment, it felt like the last piece of her heart finally clicked into place.

“me too,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly. “after everything with javier… i never thought i’d feel safe again. but with you, i do.”

jude’s hand tightened around hers, his eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “you are safe with me,” he murmured against her temple. “always.”

y/n closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek. this was it. this was everything. and when jude leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

when they pulled away, her eyes met his, and for a second, everything else fell away. it was just them, under the stars, with the sound of the ocean in the background.

“i love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

jude’s eyes lit up, his smile spreading slowly across his face. “i love you too, baby. you’re my everything.”

y/n’s heart swelled with a deep, unspoken gratitude. her brothers were her world, and jude, knowing how much they meant to her, had woven them into this moment effortlessly. it was more than she could ever ask for, more than she could ever express. how does he do it? how does he always make everything feel so right?

as a comfortable silence settled between them, the waves crashing softly against the shore, a playful thought popped into y/n’s mind. she glanced at jude, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she stood, slowly stepping towards him with an unmistakable intent in her eyes.

jude’s brow quirked up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “and what do you think you’re doing?” he teased, already sensing where this was going.

y/n settled onto his lap, her legs on either side of his hips, hands lightly resting on his chest. she leaned in, her lips just inches from his. “we’re alone,” she whispered coyly, her breath warm against his skin. “and as your team doctor... i think you’re officially cleared for physical activity.”

jude's eyes darkened with playful intent, his hands instinctively finding her hips, thumbs grazing her skin in soft, deliberate circles. “yeah? what’d you have in mind?” his voice was low, dripping with that teasing challenge that always made her heart race.

without another word, she closed the distance between them, her lips capturing his in a slow, deep kiss that left no room for questions. her fingers trailed up to cup his jaw, pulling him closer as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them beneath the starlit sky.

jude responded immediately, his hands tightening their grip, pulling her impossibly closer until there was nothing between them but the warmth of their bodies and the shared rhythm of their heartbeats. time felt like it stood still, the only thing that mattered was the way she made him feel—like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

when they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, jude's lips quirked into a crooked grin. “you'll have to clear me like that everytime, baby,” he teased, his voice a husky rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

y/n bit her lip, her gaze still playful as her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “well, i take my job very seriously.”

he let out a soft laugh, his hand moving up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “you make me crazy, you know that?” his tone was teasing, but there was a depth behind it, a weight to the words that made her heart squeeze with affection.

she stared into his eyes, her heart swelling with a sudden rush of emotion she couldn’t hold back any longer. “i love you, jude,” she whispered softly, her voice barely above a breath but carrying all the weight of her feelings.

his teasing smile softened into something tender as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “i love you too, y/n,” he whispered back, his arms wrapping tighter around her as though he never wanted to let her go. “more than anything.”

they sat there, wrapped up in each other, the sound of the ocean serenading their quiet moment, and for y/n, there was no doubt in her mind—this, right here, was exactly where she was meant to be.

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot

#pdriesta writes #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagines #football blurb #football imagine #football x reader #football smut #real madrid #football fanfic #jb5 #jb5 x reader #jude bellingham angst

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damiansgoodgirll · 3 days

Note

Hi gorgeous how you doing? I have a request for a few things so just hear me up on this. I just had this in my mind by the way jey uso x reader Rhea and Damian has been friends with the reader since NX T but when the Yeet master comes along they started to be friends but the reader gets hurt badly not so good judgement day ( i’m sorry to say that but the new judgement day nah) and who comes out and saves them terror twins and jey

jey uso x reader (romantic) / terror twins x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed !!!

‼️ a little angsty, fluff, the new judgment day being awful (just like they are)

forever my girl

the bond between you, damian and rhea was unique. you’ve been friends since the old days at nxt, where the three of you tried to make it up to the top in the company. if you had any problem, any doubt, any question, you knew that you could count on rhea and damian, the same way they could count on you.

you all made it big, being drafted from nxt to smackdown and raw where you all gained more respect and success.

being on the big rosters meant that you all got to make more friends and so a few people started hanging out with you.

rhea and damian got lucky that they got paired together for being a part of the judgment day while managers thought of giving you a solo push. it was working really good for you as you have been both raw and smackdown woman’s champion. you won your matches at wrestlemania and summerslam, so everything was really working out for you.

even if you were all pretty booked, you never stopped seeing each others outside work. a few people joined you too, especially jey uso who couldn’t stop teasing and annoying rhea. you thought it was funny and you pranked her a few times together.

jey was nice to hang out with. he was kind and funny and never fail to make you laugh. you were all like one big happy family, the judgment day members too. but when the judgment day broke up at summerslam you knew that rhea and damian were going to be alone. jey was busy with the whole bloodline mess again and you knew that you had to pick a side.

so you went ringside at bash in berlin and stopped finn when he tried to ruin the match for rhea and damian. you helped rhea when her leg got stuck over the ring and you were ringside again when, much to your surprise, jey joined damian in a tag team match.

but now it was you facing liv morgan. one on one. and it was an easy match as you were basically destroying her. she wasn’t as strong as you were and it was easy for you to pin her down quickly. she was mad that she lost and of course, in judgment day style, she started hitting you. she hit your back while the ref held up your arm as you won the match. your back immediately feeling an intense pain, you tried to get up but she shoved you on the ground. finn, dom, jd and carlito circling the ring, so now you were trapped. live kept hurting you and it felt like hell.

suddenly, rhea’s music echoed in the arena and she tried to run as fast as she could to help you inside the ring.

but she was alone and hurt so she was an easy target for the group. only a few minutes later both damian and jey ran out and followed rhea’s lead.

as rhea tried to stop dominik from running away, finn and damian began fighting. jey ran inside the ring and liv, as the coward that she is, ran away and tried to save dom from rhea.

you were laying there, hurting.

jey kneeled next to you, trying to see if you were still conscious “y/n…” he softly whispered “are you still with me love?”

you wanted to answer but no words came out of your mouth, instead you nodded but the slightest movement made your head pulse.

“medical staff is coming…we got you, i got you love” he gently whispered, moving some hair from your face.

“everything hurts…” you whimpered, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. jey’s heart broke, he couldn’t stand to see you in pain.

he didn’t understand why. it’s not like you were dating but the idea of seeing you hurt and crying made his blood boil. he was so mad and at the same time so conflicted because he couldn’t do anything to help you.

medical staff got there immediately and when they tried to move you, a soft scream left your lips that made jey shiver.

“i got you love…” he whispered “let me carry you backstage okay? the stretcher is too uncomfortable for you…” you nodded at his proposal and even though you felt like your whole body was in flames “hey shh…i got you, you’re safe with me” he gently whispered leaving a kiss on your forehead “i got you” he kept repeating, mostly to himself because he needed to be sure that you were okay.

once he brought you backstage, rhea and damian followed along, both worried about your condition. jey followed the staff instructions and he gently laid you down over the stretcher waiting for you in the medical room.

“she will be okay” one of the nurses tried to reassure the trio but non of them dared to leave the room.

rhea and damian were pissed. it wasn’t fair for you. you won your match without cheating and yet they cheated and doing so, you ended up badly injured. jey was stressing out, he couldn’t really understand what he was feeling. he always thought that you were beautiful and kind but he never thought about you in a romantic way so why was he so angry? why was he hurting? he hated seeing you barely conscious on that bed, doctors working on you. you shouldn’t be there, no, you should be backstage happily celebrating your victory with your friends and family.

“is she okay?” jey asked, pacing back and forth around the room.

“we are still checking her out…she has a concussion from the hit on the head she got when liv attacked her from behind…probably a few broken ribs but she should be fine…we still need time to finish all the tests” one of the doctor spoke and jey felt like fainting. he was beyond mad.

rhea and damian watched how stressed jey was and they couldn’t really understand why.

“uce” damian called him “what’s going on?”

“what you mean?” he pretended everything was fine.

“we mean, why are you so stressed? rhea stepped up.

“why aren’t you? she is your best friend and you’re here without saying or doing anything…” he said, passing a hand over his hair.

“uce you gotta stay calm…” damian tried one more time.

“i can’t…” he whispered, trying not to break.

“what is going on jey?” rhea was confused. she never seen jey so agitated and uneasy.

he took a chair next to them and shook his head “i don’t know…when i saw her in the ring and she couldn’t move, i felt like someone was ripping part of my body off…i don’t know how to explain it but it hurts seeing her like this…and when i brought her backstage she was softly crying in my arms…and i couldn’t do anything to help her…”

damian was still confused but rhea immediately understood why jey was acting like that. a smirk appeared on her face, shocked that none of the men were able to understand the situation.

men - she thought.

“you have feelings for her jey” rhea said, a little smile appearing on her face.

“what?” he was shocked. he knew he had feelings for you but hearing someone saying that out loud made him unsure.

“you like her and it’s pretty evident. you can’t even stay sit for five minutes, always checking on her or what the doctors are doing…you have feelings for her and that’s okay…she’s my best friend and if you hurt her i’m gonna kick your ass, but you like her and that’s normal…” rhea tried to reassure a very confused and scared jey uso.

he looked at rhea with a confused look. maybe she was right. he couldn’t understand the sudden pull towards you. but all the time you’ve spent together, pranking rhea, flying together, watching movies and training together, he never realised how much he actually liked you and now, seeing you hurt, laying on a hospital bed made him feel so helpless. he wished he realised it sooner, he wished he could tell you how much he likes you.

“she needs to rest…at least one month at home, no wrestling, no training, just rest so she can get better” the doctor said to the three adults. all of them nodding their heads before medical staff left the room, leaving them alone for some privacy.

“do you wanna stay alone with her?” rhea asked jey. he nodded, moving the chair next to your bed while the duo left. you were still unconscious. jey didn’t know if you actually fainted or if the doctors gave you some painkillers to ease your pain and to calm you down, but anyway, both cases sounded bad to him as he wanted to see you awake and smiling.

he gently stroked your cheek, his calloused hand moving delicately on your face “you’re so pretty y/n” he smiled to himself “i wish i realised sooner what i feel for you…”

you, on the other hand, woke up when the doctors explained that you had a concussion to the team. you heard rhea talking with jey, you heard him confessing. you didn’t know what to feel. you’ve always had a little crush for the twin but the idea of him actually being in love with you never crossed your mind.

your body was still on fire, your head hurting but you needed to let jey know that you were there, that it wasn’t his fault, that you were in good hands and that you were going to be okay.

“jey…” your broken voice caught his attention.

“hey…” he whispered, a soft breath escaping his lips, relaxing a little bit.

you coughed a little before opening your eyes. they were burning, meeting the strong and white light of the room. it took you a few minutes to get adjusted to the ambient light and temperature “by the way, i think you’re very handsome…” you took him off guard and you saw it by his embarrassed face.

“how much did you hear?”

“pretty much everything” you tried to laugh but you coughed more and jey, trying not to panic, handed you a glass of water “thanks…”

he smiled “so you weren’t sleeping uh?”

“i was but you all couldn’t keep your mouth shut and you woke me up” you made him laugh. that’s what he always liked about you. your sarcasm and funny personality, the way you always tried to find the good in bad situations. you were so similar and yet so different at the same time.

“everything i said it’s true…i like you, i should have realised it sooner…but i really, really like you…” he confessed once again, making you smile. you tried your best to not to laugh but he was jey uso, always trying to be funny and sarcastic, so a few laughs escaped your lips “girl, im trying to be serious”

“sorry sorry…” you smiled, making him chuckle “but i think you’re pretty cool too…”

“just cool?” he teased you.

“cool, funny, very good looking…” you were playing his game and he loved it. you were making him go crazy “and i think i like you too…fuck, i’ve had a crush on you since rhea introduced us…”

“oh wow, you’re good at keeping secrets uh?” he winked, making you laugh again “would you like to be my girl?” his voice got a little bit too serious now “i’m serious when i say that i like you, a lot…i’m probably just too stupid because i could have realised it sooner…but i promise you that i’ll be here for you, i’ll help you heal and you’ll get stronger than ever…”

“this means a lot to me…it sucks not being able to be at bad blood though…i needed to see liv crying after she loses the title” you faked being disappointed, earning a laugh from the uso.

“i’ll take care of you girl, my girl, forever my girl if you let me…” he whispered, looking into your eyes.

“how can i say no when you look at me like that?” you matched his serious tone, making him smile.

“then say yes…be my girl” he moved closer to you, sitting on the bed instead of the chair next to you. his hand gently caressing your cheek, brushing delicately over your lips.

“yes…” you whispered meeting his smile.

he felt relieved that you were okay. probably not okay mentally and definitely not physically but you were there with him. comfortable in his touch and that was enough for him.

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leclerc-s · 17 hours

Text

track two: i wanna taste his lips, yeah, 'cause they taste like you

series masterlist

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

"got a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend too, i wanna be with you so bad."

MID 2020

charles leclerc did not get jealous. he had nothing and no one to be jealous of, besides, it's not like he had anything to be jealous of. he was charles freaking leclerc, there was no reason for him to be feeling the way he was, so why the fuck was he feeling complete and utter jealousy towards oscar piastri? oscar didn't have anything charles could want. charles was the one who was the formula 1 driver, he's the one who was an f1 grand prix winner, he's the one who drove for one of the most historic f1 teams, he was the one people called the predestined.

oscar piastri absolutely didn’t have anything charles could possibly want, except for her. the one thing oscar had that charles wanted, he couldn’t possibly have. the only thing he could do was watch from the sidelines as she cheered him on and raced alongside him. actually charles wasn’t even sure if they were dating but it seemed like they were. why else would they be as close as they were, if they weren’t dating? people just weren’t that close, maybe that’s why people tended to think he was dating pierre.

“stare any harder and people will be convinced you hate him,” sebastian teased. charles turned to glare at his older teammate, “i do not hate him.”

sebastian laughed, “you could have fooled me. or maybe, it’s her you hate.”

“i don’t hate them!” charles shouted, several people turned to look at them, including inés and oscar. charles blushed before turning around to walk away, “i hate you,” he muttered to sebastian, “i’m glad you’re leaving.”

sebastian laughed again, “no, you’re not. who would argue with mattia for your sake?”

“it is very entertaining.”

“enjoy having her brother around next year."

"max warned me about them," charles whispered to the older man. talking badly about a drivers family seemed like taboo to charles. he didn’t even know carlos or his family and yet here he was, gossiping with sebastian about the.

sebastian sighed, "they are difficult, that entire family is. maybe you'll be the one fighting mattia next season."

charles huffed, not satisfied with sebastian’s answer, "but why are they so difficult?"

"sainz. sr is not used to coming second, to anyone," sebastian paused, "it was known between several of the drivers years ago, when max and carlos were toro rosso drivers, that their fathers didn't get along, hell even the media caught on at some point. sainz sr and jos hated each other, rumored it almost came to blows several times. so when max got promoted to red bull mid-season, sainz sr. lost it. carlos was put on a loan to renault, his contract didn't get renewed so he moved to mclaren. i don't think any of his children are used to coming second, especially not with a father like him. everyone talks about the difficulties max faced with jos as his father but i imagine sainz sr was just like him with carlos.”

“but what about inés?” charles question. sebastian sighed, a frown on his face, “a daughter being a racer is not what sainz sr wanted. he wanted her to focus on her studies, carlos was supposed be the one to carry on the family name in motorsports, not her, never her. every time he’s almost given up on her career, inés has proved him wrong. vice champion in two consecutive series, that’s no small feat for a woman. it’s- huge for her, it also helps that she has fernando in her corner backing her.”

"inés seems to be content with being second to piastri," charles pointed out, referring to sebastian’s earlier statement.

"she is a girl in a male dominated sport. if she comes in first or second, she still breaks records. she's not coming second to anyone charles."

"you're wrong," charles muttered, "she comes second to carlos."

sebastian sighed, "trust me, i know," sebastian paused, choosing his next words carefully, "just, be careful next year charles. you don't want to make an enemy of the sainz family."

charles rolled his eyes, "i'll be a good kid, i promise."

"charles, this is serious," sebastian argued, "the sainz family is not someone you want to cross, ever."

charles stilled for a moment, processing sebastian's words, "okay, i swear."

sebastian moved to walk away and charles stood there for a moment, trying to convince himself that maybe, just maybe he didn’t have a weird infatuation with inés. because the way he say the situation, it was weird, he was 5 years older than her, they had first met when she was a kid. granted they only ever held a few conversations, with inés taking a liking to his younger brother more than him. it made sense though, arthur was the one racing in the same series as her, he was the one closer to her in age. charles jumped when her heard someone snickering, he turned and came face to face with fernando alonso, f1’s resident menace.

noticing his startled expression fernando looked at him, and charles was not ready for what was about to come out of his mouth, "eres un idiota."

now charles didn't speak spanish but he sure as hell knew fernando had just called him an idiot. charles was not an idiot, most of the time. so why the hell had he just stared at fernando and only muttered a "what?" and looked like a complete idiot?

"i said, you are an idiot, she is too, and him."

"him?" charles questioned, "who's him?"

fernando chuckled, "use that brain of your leclerc. as checo says, te lo dejo de tarea."

"what does that mean?" charles asked as fernando turned to leave. fernando shrugged as he left, leaving charles just standing there confused. before charles could follow after him he was met with the sight of carlos, the spaniard smiled at him and charles returned it. he looked around trying to spot the older spaniard but couldn’t find him anywhere, charles would have to later ask him how he disappeared like that. before he could even think about leaving carlos struck up a conversation with him forcing him to stay put.

HEARTBURN

"and tell me why does my heart burn when i see your face?"

when oscar first saw charles leclerc, there was no doubt in his mind that he was an attractive man. which left him feeling confused, why the hell was he thinking that about a man? oscar wasn't gay, at least he thought he wasn't, oscar wasn't quite sure. it's not like he ever had the time to discover if he liked boys as much as he liked girls. one thing he knew for sure was that he liked girls, he had girlfriends in the past. all oscar knew was that charles leclerc was an attractive man. and look, oscar had kissed a few guys on a dare, namely his best friend logan sargeant, but those kisses never meant anything. he never felt anything after those kisses and it's not like he'd had what many called 'a gay awakening'

oscar wasn’t even sure if he was just supposed to wake up one day and decide if he liked men or not. were there rules to that? was he supposed to talk to someone? was he supposed to talk to him mum about his feelings? was it supposed to be one of those moments in books where he went oh, oh, and realize he liked men and women? what the hell was he supposed to do?

“mate,” logan whispered, “you’re staring.”

oscar shrugged his best friend off, “i am not.”

“you absolutely are,” frederick chimed in. oscar turned to glare at the dane before huffing out, “i am not.”

before frederick could reply, inés joined them, “who are we staring at?”

“charles leclerc apparently,” logan joked. inés laughed, “are you three finally realizing that charles leclerc is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1?”

“wouldn’t that be your brother?” frederick questioned. the dane looked like it had hurt to say that, everyone one in their friend group knew about the rocky relationship inés had with her brother. inés made a face at that, “no, trust me, it’s charles leclerc.”

“what about my brother?” arthur chimed in as he too, also joined them. inés smiled at the youngest leclerc boy, “who you do you think is the poster boy for pretty faces in formula 1. i think it’s charles, fred thinks it’s my brother.”

“definitely lewis hamilton,” logan chimed in. the four of them turned to look at oscar, waiting for his response. the australian blushed, “off the grid? jenson button. on the grid? daniel ricciardo.”

arthur laughed at the australian, “i think it is red bull sebastian.”

inés gasped, “why didn’t i think of that!” she paused for a moment, “but i agree with osc, it’s gotta be jenson button.”

frederick snorted, “yes, it’s 100% jenson button.”

inés sighed dreamily, “i love him, i could marry him in a heartbeat.”

arthur elbowed the australian, wiggling his eyebrows, as if to say, “you wish she was saying that about you huh?” oscar rolled his eyes at the monegasque but it’s not like that had stopped arthur from making fun of him before.

“he’s twice your age,” oscar pointed out, “not to mention married and a father.”

“he could be your father,” logan joked.

inés rolled her eyes at both of them, “age is just a number boys.”

“and prison is just a place,” oscar muttered. frederick who stood beside him, giggled softly. arthur leaned over, “your jealousy is showing oscar.”

oscar harshly elbowed arthur, “shut up.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

later that night, when oscar laid in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling he found himself asking why he felt butterflies in when he had met charles leclerc's eye. that had never happened before, and he had met the older leclerc plenty of times. perhaps it was time oscar actually talked to someone about his feelings but who? he couldn't talk to his mom because that was an embarrassing conversation waiting to happen. he couldn't talk to mark about it because for some reason the older australian put charles leclerc in a box with sebastian vettel. not that mark still hated sebastian, he had been very clear about that, but to oscar it still seemed like it hurt mark to talk about him or anything related to him.

oscar sure as hell couldn't talk to logan or fred about it because all the two blondes would do is make fun of him. not that they didn't do that already but oscar was NOT going to sit through another conversation with them so they teased him relentlessly. besides, oscar was like 98% sure he was just going through a phase. but it couldn't be a phase, there had been that boy in primary school that oscar had thought was cute, then there was that short time period where he had a massive crush on sebastian vettel, much to mark's disappointment. oscar could remember him muttering, "why couldn't he crush on jenson instead?"

which, oscar could admit, he also had at one point, but he could never remember feeling that way towards charles leclerc. he had met charles plenty of times, that's usually what happened when you were friends with someone. arthur had met his family and he had met arthur's family. none of that explained why oscar felt stupid little butterflies whenever he made eye contact with charles leclerc.

then, there was the inés sainz of it all. oscar was sure he had a crush on girl, actually he knew he had a crush on her, he had since before they met. it was part of the reason as to why logan had gone up to the younger girl all those years ago. teasing oscar had always been logan's favorite past time, it still was to this day. what oscar couldn’t understand was how he had developed feelings for two people at the same time.

what was even more confusing was how he had developed feelings for people who seemed like complete opposites. he didn't know what it was but the two just seemed like they would never get along (oh how wrong he was, not that he knew that yet) so there oscar sat, confused not only about his own feelings but why he felt the way he did.

liked by, isahernaez, aidan, lilymhe and others

ines_sainz we go back to racing this week!! i will no longer be rotting in a hole somewhere. (edit: oscar is demanding for joris' rights. 📸 joris_trouche)

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maxverstappen33 you're literally in my spare room watching criminal minds?? when the fuck did you take these??

ines_sainz when we were in australia for the race that never happened?? user01 traveling during a global pandemic?? what the fuck is wrong with rich people?? maxverstappen33 we're in fucking austria for our jobs your moron ines_sainz i'm quarantining with max because apparently i can't be left to my own devices fernandoalo_oficial you nearly set your apartment on fire with a candle.

aidan come back home??

ines_sainz i have a job?? aidan and?? so do i?? alex_albon you're an influencer 💀 user02 you cannot convince me that those guys actually like aidan

oscarpiastri wow, no credits for me??

ines_sainz YOU DIDN'T TAKE THE PICTURES?? JORIS DID?? arthur_leclerc why are you hanging out with joris?? ines_sainz do i have to remind you that our brothers are coworkers arthur?? or did you just forget that?? oscarpiastri wow, no creds for joris?? ines_sainz you're annoying, go away.

louieee baby gorl you are stunning

ines_sainz thank you baby gorl logansargeant THIS IS YOUR FAULT! SHE WON'T STOP CALLING PEOPLE BABY GORL AROUND THE PADDOCK! charles_leclerc it's true. i've never seen sebastian turn so red and we drive for ferrari landonorris glad to know i'm not the only victim. ines_sainz puh-lease norris, you wish i called you baby gorl. i only reserve that for the babiest of baby gorls. alex_albon glad to know i'm in that category. lewishamilton that actually explains so much now

user03 knowing this girl is about to make waves in f3 fills me with joy.

user04 right? absolutely killed it in f4. i can't wait to see what she does later on user05 oh those sainz racing genes go hard

joris__trouche i am being forced against my will to ask for my picture credits...free me

ines_sainz you let a koala of all people bully you into doing this?? joris__trouche he is very good at getting people to do what he wants ines_sainz trust me, i know. i'm still bitter about my tim-tams...

carlossainz55 shouldn't you be training right now?

ines_sainz ximena allows 15 minute breaks ximena.gomez i'm your manager kid, not your trainer ines_sainz same difference

user06 she looks so pretty

user07 right? girl is so fucking happy to be back to racing user08 i, for one, am so fucking happy we're back to racing, i missed seeing 20 grown men go vroom in odd shapes for 90 minutes

charles_leclerc why are you hanging out with my best friend?? without me??

ines_sainz joris said he needed 5 minutes away from you joris_trouche it's true, i did. charles_leclerc i don't want you too hanging out again. you're mean to me when you hang out. ines_sainz you're not my dad. you can't stop me. charles_leclerc i'll tell your dad fernandoalo_oficial you're daughter is being mean fernandoalo_oficial that's my girl charles_leclerc oh-

user09 so is it not a joke that fernando is inés' dad or is it?

user10 at this point no one can fucking tell. like even laura and will are in on the joke. user11 that man is more of her father than her actual father is. i've never once seen that man at an f3 race cheering her on. fernando is always there. user10 it's worse when we know sainz sr is at races because he gets featured on sky or f1tv but he's never at her races. user12 oh my god you people are being so dramatic and for what? he clearly doesn't have the time to see her race in lower categories. user11 but clearly he can attend free practices for carlos...

patriciooward you have to come watch me race at least once this season hermana

ines_sainz let me have time and i'll come to at least one race patriciooward and that'll be?? ines_sainz until at least mid september patriciooward BOOO!!! your job sucks ines_sainz patricio, there was this thing called a global pandemic, you might remember what that was patriciooward i remember you pestered me for hours to play animal crossing with you. ines_sainz and the sims 4 because none of the losers i know wanted to play

user12 inés sainz playing the sims 4 with patricio o'ward was not something i knew i needed.

user13 someone tell arrow mclaren to get pato to play the sims 4 user12 just don't include mods or pato might combust patriciooward what are these mods you speak of?? ines_sainz STOP! NO ONE TELL HIM! user14 uh-oh, i feel like i'm to blame and i wasn't even involved in this. patriciooward oh i'll figure it out eventually. user15 where the fuck were you people when inés was documenting the sims 4 chronicles?? user13 clearly not where ever these chronicles where being documented.

BONUS: THE SIMS 4 CHRONICLES

¡taglist!

@minmira95 // @lesliiieeeee // @vroomvroommuppett // @prongsvault // @justtprachisblog // @scuderiadevils // @cataf1 // @chezmardybum // @formulaal // @lilsiz // @norstappenvibes // @ironspdy // @nikfigueiredo @hinamesgigantica // @niniluvsainz // @matchaverse // @fakeikeastore // @theseus-jpg // @six-call // @81folklore // @emppusofi // @luvsforme // @nichmeddar // @loloekie // @luvpedro // @donttouchthegnote // @nothaqks // @inferiusreggie // @mochimommy2002 // @rach3164 // @clove08 // @clove0 // @lillysbigwilly // @jenxjar // @blupblupfish // @thereadinggremlin05 // @meowiarty // @magical-spit // @camdensreg // @laneyspaulding19 // @ocyeanicc // @yelenasloverrrrr // @percervall // @blushmimi // @spilled-coffee-cup // @michelleyw81 // @yeanoskrrt // @greantii // @ietss

¡not taggable!

@ashlovestoread1411 // @books-thingys-andstuff // @nothanqks // @ale-522 // @aandreea_2005 // @Katness1 // @mgmoore // @Scott-McCall-could-lift-mjolnir // @xxx-betty // @ririyulife // @landonorizzz // @moldyshorts1997 // @itstimeforutogo // @yar16 // @em-andemm // @killjoycra // @angelxxrose

¡leclerc-s speaks!

this whole thing is almost 3k words, which is a lot for me. thought it was finally time to give you guys part 2 for the mini series i have going on with this story. i actually don't know how to write someone struggling with their sexuality all the well so i hope it was at least decent. (any pointers anyone has would be great for future reference)

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #guilty as sin series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #oscar piastri x female oc

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toiletclown · 1 day

Text

breathless.

spencer agnew x gn!reader

mostly fluff, a little angst.

part one of four or five, depending how much more i add.

summary: you've had feelings for your best friend, spencer, almost as long as you have known him. it isn't getting any easier, and you need to tell him soon, whether he feels the same or not. your friends are pushing you, the fans already ship you, and after courtney and shayne's success, you just couldn’t bare to keep lying anymore. to yourself, or to him.

word count: 2028 for part one.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It’s been two years since you graduated from Smosh crew member to Smosh cast member. You weren’t the first, and are unlikely to be the last, but it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. You were moved to cast not long after Spencer made his switch to cast, but that was exactly your problem, wasn’t it? When you were both on crew, it was easier. Small smiles, hidden glances, a blush forming under your mask. Once or twice, Brennan had swiveled his camera to the crew to get their reactions and you couldn’t duck fast enough to dodge the shot.

You both shared moments without fear of judgment, knowing everyone at Smosh knew how close you were. Some more than others. But once you were both on camera more often, those moments dwindled to near nothingness. You couldn’t make eyes at him, he couldn’t flirt with you. Plenty of the cast flirted with each other on and off camera, of course, but it was different somehow. The office flirting became private hangout flirting, which then became no flirting at all.

He didn’t get jealous anymore when Amanda or Angela flirted with you, and you did your best not to get jealous when he flirted with Tommy or Shayne. It was like your friendship was entirely platonic again. And while that was all it had ever been – platonic – it hurt a little. It was like something happened overnight, and the flirting wasn’t cool anymore.

The last time something happened before your promotion to cast, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse were doing Who Meme’d It with Shayne, and someone had sent in a meme about you always looking at Spencer. As soon as it popped up, everyone was laughing, and Brennan promptly turned his camera to get your face. You were smart enough to expect it, and you managed to push out a laugh and shrug to the camera. All in good fun, it seemed. But really, it was a little bit upsetting to realize you were so obvious about your affection for Spencer. You thought that you were fairly secretive and weren’t too over the top, but apparently not so much.

“Okay, ‘Y/N pretending they weren’t just staring at Spencer’! Spencer, any thoughts?” Shayne said through giggles.

Spencer made eye contact with you, and you did your best to hold it. “Gotta be honest, Shayne, I wasn’t even aware they stared at me. Guess they’re sneakier than I thought!” Everyone was laughing again, and you joined in. Instead of making a joke about him staring at you, or a joke about you two flirting in your pod, he went with a PR answer. You could barely admit to yourself how bad it had stung. And sure, most people got roasted in Who Meme’d It, especially with the lack of funeral roasts, but it didn’t really feel good to have your private crush on Spencer blasted to not only cast and crew, but whoever ends up watching this video. And his comment was making it seem more one-sided than you liked.

After the laughter settled down, Shayne got back to hosting. “Alright, who meme’d it! Was it Erin Dougal? Courtney? Or Y/N themselves?” You made a silly face when Brennan panned to you, channeling your best mad scientist look. Your face dropped immediately after. No one saw it.

The cast members debated for a second before writing down their answers. It was Courtney across the board. “Alright, so we all think Courtney made this meme. Angela, what makes you think it was Courtney?”

“Shayne, that’s a great question, thank you so much for being here with me today. I said Court because I have seen them having little whisper sessions with Y/N and I simply don’t trust like that!” Angela laughed, a bright smile on her face. She winked at you once the camera had moved away from her face. She was actually your go-to confidant, and you were sure she knew that. She was your best friend, behind Spencer, after all.

After a dramatic pause, it was revealed that Erin Dougal was the one who made the meme. You could have called that from a mile away, but that was because Erin was constantly telling you to ask Spencer out. You shot her down every time, knowing it was safer and easier to suffer in silence with your feelings rather than to possibly fuck everything up with your best friend. Besides, suffering in silence was what you were best at.

And now, a few months later, you were the one in front of the camera for a Who Meme’d It. It was your first time actually competing, although you’ve sent your fair share of memes in. Spencer and Angela were the only two people to continuously guess you correctly, which in the grand scheme of things made the most sense as they were your closest friends at Smosh. However, you were now competing against both of them, and your competitive side didn’t have a concept of “friendship”, unfortunately.

“Okay! Welcome back to Who Meme’d It! Today we have Angela, Y/N, and Spencer competing. And Y/N is quite competitive so let’s hope they still have their best friends after this!” Shayne introduced you all, smiling at you to ease your anxiety.

“Lest we forget what happened when they were on Don’t Win Mario Party and nearly killed me,” Spencer said, turning towards you with his hands folded on the table. His eyes were smiling, but he was trying his best to keep a serious face.

You turned to face him, mirroring his expression and hands. “Lest we forget you deserved that attack because you fucked with my controller mid-lap so that you could get seventh.”

“Okay, are we doing Who Meme’d It or the Newlywed Game?” Angela joked, and you and Spencer returned to your normal positions, excited to play.

After the shoot, Spencer caught up with you in the kitchen. “You got your first Who Meme’d It win, how’s it feel?” You had indeed won, but only by two points. Spencer was right behind you and Angela frankly tanked it this episode. Usually she wasn’t too bad, but perhaps she knew how competitive you were going to be and decided to focus more on having fun instead of winning. Especially considering there was content being made that needed to be entertaining.

“Eh, I feel like my competitiveness isn’t very fun on camera. I’m hoping we don’t have to scrap the ep simply because I was too locked in.” You grabbed some fruit from the fridge and prepared to make your way to a table so you could sit and destress before your next shoot. You weren’t needed on set for over an hour so you were ready to mindlessly doomscroll while you snacked on your peaches.

Spencer chuckled at your comment, which made your heart flutter a bit. Suddenly, you had the urge to touch him. You put your hand on his shoulder, mostly unconsciously, not actively making the decision but simply just doing it. His giggling stopped instantly, and he looked at your hand cryptically, his expression unreadable. All too suddenly, it felt too serious, too personal, so you instantly pivoted. “But at least you didn’t win, right?” You smiled, patting his shoulder and turning to head to your seat.

You were hoping, for the first time ever if you were being honest, that he wouldn’t follow you. Things had been weird between you two for a few weeks now, and you almost wanted some space to deal with the pain of your best friend seeming to lose interest in your friendship. And once again, Erin had submitted a meme that made you a little upset. You knew it was unreasonable to be upset with her, as it was all in good fun and she wasn’t actually trying to hurt your feelings. You should probably try to talk to her about that, since you knew she wouldn’t take your upset personally.

This one was arguably worse than the first one though, because instead of it being at your expense, it was technically at Spencer’s. The meme wasn’t mean in any regard, but it was making fun of Spencer for consistently getting “lost in his thoughts” whenever you were on a shoot together. Of course, Erin alluded to those thoughts being romantic in nature, which earned a few oohs and aahs from the crew and cast alike. You had felt your face get warm and tried to remind yourself you were on camera and it was all in good fun.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Courtney approaching you. “Y/N, Spence! Just the two people I wanted to see. I have a question for you guys.”

Clearly, Spencer had intended on following you, since Courtney had greeted you both. You sighed as quietly as possible, before asking Court if you could sit down before you all got to talking. Your castmates followed you to a table, and you popped a piece of fruit in your mouth. “Okay, what's up?”

“Well, we wanted to do a Guitar Hero stream next week. I know you haven't been on any of the livestreams, so I figured I’d ask if you wanted to be in this one. You don't have to play but if you sit and make commentary I’m sure that'll be enough! But of course you can play if you want to.” Courtney was always so thoughtful, and you made a mental note to thank her for always being so considerate.

“Oh hell yeah, I finally get to show off my guitar skills. It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if Y/N’s down, I’m down!” Spencer’s eyes lit up. He had been trying to figure out a way to impress you and gauge your reaction before he finally took the leap and asked you on a date.

Everyone had been encouraging him to do so for months at this point, but he still wasn’t so sure about it. Yeah, you blushed whenever he mentioned you on camera and you blushed a lot during the shoot today when Erin’s meme came up. But some part of him felt like that had less to do with reciprocating a crush and more to do with embarrassment.

You thought for a minute, munching on your peach slice. “Sure, that sounds fun. Spencer, maybe you could teach me how to play?”

Spencer broke out in a grin, “Of course I can. Although I’m surprised you’ve never played it before, it’s an iconic franchise.”

Courtney worked out a few more details with the two of you before making their way back to their pod. When she had left, Spencer turned his attention back to you. “Have you seriously never played Guitar Hero before?” He genuinely was having trouble believing that.

Truthfully, you had played before. Many times. And you were actually quite skilled at it. But it’s been quite some time since you picked up and played it, and you knew you would be rusty. Plus, you were mentally hatching a plan. Have Spence “teach” you the game, play extremely badly the whole time, then on stream you can kick his ass on Expert mode. Perfect plan.

“I have not. I might have played once or twice as a kid but I don’t really remember the controls or, like, speed, since I know some of the songs are really fast.”

“Okay, do you wanna come by my place tonight after work? I have a bunch of the Guitar Hero games but I also have Clone Hero which will probably be what we use on the stream anyway.”

Oh, right. Not-so-perfect plan. If you were to be taught, you needed to be taught before the livestream. Which means you had to hang out with Spencer outside of work. You can survive one night alone with him, right? You’ve done it so many times before. Sure, it’s been a few weeks since you guys hung out, and with your increasing feelings for him you were sure to be awkward. But it was Spencer! Your best friend in the whole world! It would be just fine. Right?

#richie txt #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smosh x reader #the way i'm nervous to post this lol if this flops u will not be hearing from me.

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persevereforahappyending · 12 hours

Text

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter imagine #samantha carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #scream #scream vi #scream 6 #no man's land

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clarisse0o · 18 hours

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 74

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

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Friday, March 25th; 9:15 a.m. - Camp Wiegman

I arrive in the common room where a large number of students have gathered. The head teachers and some instructors, including Lucy, have been called to a big meeting. The students are saying it’s about yesterday’s scandal, as several of them, myself included, suffered from indigestion. I’ll ask Lucy if that’s true. They were smart about it; they scheduled it for 9 a.m. to make sure we couldn’t leave before noon. So, we have an hour of free time. I spot Alexia sitting on the couch, chatting with a guy I don’t know. I’m glad she’s here too. We didn’t know which class would be freed due to the meeting. I walk over to them with my friends. I wanted to use this break to catch up on the form we had to fill out for the trip. The others assured me I didn’t miss much. They were bored to death, especially Leah, who was left alone because of me. The good thing is they’re going to give me their notes to help me fill out the questionnaire. I want to show my teacher I’m capable of working. Especially since he’s developed a kind of disdain for me recently. He didn’t even check on me yesterday or say I didn’t need to turn in my work. Well, according to Alessia, the questions were simple, and she thinks I wouldn’t have had any trouble answering them if I’d gone on the trip.

"Hey," I greet Ale.

"Oh, you’re here too!" she exclaims, hugging me. "How are you feeling?"

"Still the same as this morning," I joke.

Alexia was really worried when she found out I was one of the affected students. Fortunately, I was just sick yesterday. This morning feels like yesterday never happened. Of course, I skipped the hot chocolate today. It’ll take me some time before I can drink it again, but for now, I’m sticking to orange juice.

"Can you lend me your notes, Alessia?" I ask my friend, who’s now sitting on my other side.

"Oh, forget about school for a bit! You’re with us for once!" Ale scolds me.

"Alright, alright," I laugh. "You sound just like Lucy."

"She scolds you too?" Leah teases from the couch across from us.

"Yeah," I groan, stretching. "She dragged me out all weekend to make me stop. According to her, I always find something to obsess over when I’m stressed."

"She’s not wrong. Speaking of stress, have you heard back from the galleries?"

"It’s better not to talk about frustrating things right now..." Alessia comments on my behalf.

I cross my arms, feeling a bit down. I’ve gotten a few rejections this week, which I shared with Alessia. She also loves art and is happy that I’m pursuing it. She doesn’t have the same courage as me, though, since she plans to stick with administration to secure her future. I have to admit I’m starting to feel anxious about the feedback. Maybe I’ll have to do the same as her. There’s no way I’m staying home doing nothing, though.

"Don’t worry. I heard Mapi’s coming this weekend. That’s cool; she’ll be able to cheer you up."

I raise an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, Mapi’s coming?"

"Uh... You didn’t know? I called Jenni after class. Lucy told her this morning that she’s coming."

"Lucy?!"

This news catches me off guard. How is it that she knew before me that my best friend is coming? And even if that’s the case, why didn’t she just tell me? Alexia feels bad about my reaction.

"Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise...? Crap. I probably shouldn’t have told you! Lucy’s going to kill me! Can you pretend you don’t know?"

I smile despite myself and shake my head. Maybe she’s right. I hope so, honestly.

"What are you offering for my silence?" I tease, amused.

She playfully hits my arm, and our friends laugh. It’s so easy to tease her. I laugh too, but I’m glad she’s getting along better with my girlfriend. Suddenly, I start thinking about Mapi. It’s not surprising I wasn’t informed by her; I’ve been out of the loop, buried in my studies. Maybe she did message me, and I missed it. That would be more worrying. I already feel bad just thinking about it.

"So, what are we doing? Besides catching up on boring school stuff, of course."

"Hey. Calm down, will you?"

"Nope. By the way, Alba’s meeting Jenni next weekend. She’ll probably stop by the gym."

"Really? Where is she anyway?" I ask, glancing around.

"Probably with her girlfriend somewhere. I haven’t seen her since we got let out."

I chuckle, imagining exactly where they must be. Normally, we’re not allowed to have «intimate relationship », but with the supervision lightened, now’s probably the perfect time.

"I see. So, she’s stuck in for the weekend?"

"Yeah. Misa’s staying with her. That’s why we’re doing it next weekend. She’s excited to meet her..."

"I bet. How did Jenni take it?"

"She doesn’t know yet. Don’t say anything, though. I’m planning to break it to her gently this weekend..."

I laugh heartily. I’d pay to see her face when she tells her. I think she’s going to be totally shocked. Alexia explained to me that her only fear is that her sister won’t accept her, which would strain their relationship. I understand that. The opinion of someone close to you carries a lot of weight. I’ve been a victim of that between Lucy and Mapi myself.

"And why are you introducing them at their gym? Is there no other place?"

"What’s ‘their gym'?" Leah asks.

"Oh, uh... You don’t know."

"You’re not allowed to talk about it, are you?" she teases.

We glance at each other, and I shrug. I’m not sure, actually. Lucy hasn’t mentioned anything, but I don’t think she wants the students to know it’s her last year.

"Sorry, Leah," I simply say.

She shrugs indifferently. She doesn’t seem upset, so it’s fine.

"Anyway, so?"

"Well, I figured it’d be a neutral place. Plus, she’ll see that she has ambitious plans and that she’s not irresponsible."

"Hmm, hmm," I tease.

"What? You don’t think it’s a good idea?"

"I just wonder if you’re not trying to convince yourself..." I giggle.

"A little..." she admits. "Plus, I figured you guys would be there just in case..."

"Oh no, I’m stopping you right there. Lucy’s already told me she doesn’t want to be there when it happens."

"Oh no," she pouts. "Don’t tell me that."

"I swear. I didn’t even have to ask. She brought it up herself, and I don’t think it’s negotiable. She keeps saying she doesn’t want to see any of my friends from here before the end of the year. I’m sorry..."

"What if I organize a party?" Leah suggests. "It would kill two birds with one stone since I’d like to see her outside of here."

I grimace a little. She doesn’t realize I’m going to get scolded again if I keep pushing.

"That could be fun, being all together," Alessia agrees.

"You guys are unbelievable. You really can’t wait a month and a half?"

"Tell that to Alba," Alexia retorts. "She’s the one trying so hard to bring the events closer."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"When would this party be?" I give in.

"In three weeks," Leah tells me. "My parents will be going away for the weekend with some friends. We figured it’d be the perfect time to throw another party. Plus, it’s right before the holidays."

Alessia nods beside her, confirming what Leah just said.

"OK…" I mutter. "I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. Lucy can be really stubborn when she wants to be."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!" Ale replies excitedly.

She kisses my cheek several times before letting me go. Meanwhile, I keep glancing at every door that opens, hoping Lucy will walk through. We don’t know how long the meeting will last, but I’m optimistic. I smile when I see it’s not my girlfriend, but Ingrid. I interrupt Ale and Leah’s conversation, where my roommate is asking if it’s okay for her girlfriend to come, since she’s now planning to delay the meeting between her and her sister until then.

"I’ll be right back," I say as I stand up.

Alexia watches me, confused, until she spots Ingrid.

"Oh no. Please don’t tell her you know about Mapi. I’ll get in trouble again!"

I laugh and wave her off. Whether she likes it or not, I’m definitely going to question Ingrid, who’s probably the first to know what’s going on. I approach her, and she spots me right away, greeting me with a smile.

"What brings you here, Ona?"

"Hey, how are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good too. Is Lucy still in the meeting?"

"Yep. You probably won’t see her all morning. She’s got a meeting with Wiegman right after."

A lightbulb goes off in my head. Damn! I completely forgot about that! She had told me earlier in the week that she scheduled a meeting with her to resign. Ingrid laughs, clearly noticing that I just remembered.

"I’m such an idiot."

"If you say so," she teases.

I bite my lip. I wish I could’ve said something to encourage her, but now it’s too late.

"Don’t stress about it. She won’t hold it against you. She knows you’ve got a lot on your mind. And you weren’t feeling well yesterday either."

I nod. It doesn’t erase the guilt I feel, though. I’ll try to make up for it this weekend. In the meantime, I remember why I’m here in the first place.

"I heard Mapi is coming."

"Did Alexia spill the beans?"

"Was it supposed to be a surprise?"

"Oh no. Mapi’s tried texting you several times this week, but none of the messages got through. She thinks your phone’s off. Lucy wanted to tell you yesterday, but you weren’t feeling well."

I groan, realizing what’s happened. I feel really bad now. My phone must be off since I haven’t used it since Monday.

"At least you found out she’s coming before we go pick her up, so it’s not too bad."

I scowl as she clearly makes fun of me. Well, I deserve it. At least she doesn’t beat around the bush when telling me things.

"So, we’re going together to pick her up?"

"Yep. Lucy suggested we all have lunch together after we pick her up."

I nod, grateful she’s taken the initiative without needing my input. Damn, I really need to make up for all of this this weekend.

"OK… Thanks."

"No problem."

I can tell she finds this situation amusing. With an embarrassed smile, I turn back to my friends. Hopefully, once I apologize to everyone, I won’t feel as foolish.

Friday, March 25; 12:15 PM - Camp Wiegman.

I was waiting for Lucy outside the school, like we usually do. I had already seen Ingrid’s car pass by, so I figured Lucy would be next, and sure enough, her car pulls into the parking lot. She parks in the open spot right in front of me. I have so many things to tell her, I don’t even know where to start. I put my suitcase in the trunk and join her in the front seat.

"Hey."

"Hi."

I lose my smile when I see the serious look on her face.

"Is something wrong?"

"Get in. It’s windy."

I do as she says, closing the door behind me. The bad weather has passed, and we’ve got sunshine, but a cool breeze has followed it.

"What’s going on?" I ask, seeing her stare straight ahead.

I don’t like seeing her like this. Luckily, she’s not one to beat around the bush with me.

"Wiegman knows."

My heart skips a beat at this unexpected news. Then it starts racing, and I can’t calm it down. No, this can’t be happening. Not now, not when my exams are in a month. Not after all the effort I’ve put in. Tears well up in my eyes. I blink to get rid of them, but it’s no use.

"Is it…? H-how? This is crazy!"

"Hey, hey," she says, noticing my state. "Calm down. It’s not as bad as you think."

She takes my hands and kisses them, one by one. Her calmness manages to soothe me, even though I still don’t know how things aren’t as bad as she says.

"How did she find out?"

"Your management professor… He saw me kiss you yesterday while you were still asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was planning to this weekend."

"He… That jerk!" I fume. "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I didn’t get the chance. What caught me off guard was that he reported us to Wiegman before I could even do that."

"And Wiegman!? Did she believe him? Just like that? Without letting us explain ourselves?"

"Calm down, baby. No. She asked for my side of the story… I didn’t want to lie, especially when I had my resignation letter in my hand."

I must look shocked. She didn’t do that, did she?

"Stop panicking. Neither of us is getting expelled," she tells me.

"Wait—we’re not…?"

A small smile appears on her face. I remember her first expression. She must have been just as angry as I am. Now she looks like she’s teasing me. How can she? Our principal knows! Shouldn’t we be packing up and getting out of here? That’s what happened to Jenni!

"Given the circumstances, no, I’m not."

"Are you going to explain?"

She chuckles softly, still holding my hands in hers. I don’t find this funny. She dropped this bombshell on me and is now laughing about it. It’s hard to understand.

"We had a long discussion. I spent nearly two hours in her office. When she brought it up, I didn’t know what to do, but I decided to be honest, and it looks like that paid off."

"We’re really not getting expelled?"

"No. I think the fact that you’re your mother’s daughter helped a lot."

I relax, and for the first time in my life, I’m grateful to be her daughter.

"I confirmed our relationship, but I also explained all the good I’ve brought to you. I told her about how hard you’re working to pass your exam, your progress, and your future plans.

- And what did she say?

- She was hesitant at first, until I showed her the pile of exercises you gave me to correct. She realized that our relationship is serious and that it’s helping you.

- Of course! And that’s it?

- Sort of. I told her that if she has to expel someone, she should only expel me, and I handed her my resignation letter. I didn’t want her to ruin your future over this.

- But I thought...

- I’m not expelled, Ona. Let me finish.

- Sorry, I said, blushing.

She’s talking a lot without getting to the point, but I can tell my impatience is amusing her.

- She initially thought I was giving her my resignation because of this, but I told her about my plans to open a gym. Thanks to our evening classes and Ingrid’s testimony, she recognized my professionalism and honesty. She didn’t want to destroy your efforts or our future, so… she’s cutting us some slack. I’ll remain your supervisor until the end.

- So… Wiegman knows, and we’re not expelled…?

I mutter the words, struggling to comprehend them. It feels so surreal.

- It’s not without consequences. She’s going to talk to your professor to make him drop the idea. As for us, we need to stay discreet. If anyone else sees us together and reports it, she won’t be able to protect us, and both our futures will be at risk. Do you understand?

I nod, feeling completely lost. Wow. I never saw this coming. It’s insane.

- Then why did you look so serious earlier? You scared me!

- Sorry. I don’t know. Shocked and angry, I guess. I’m having a hard time processing it too. I always imagined I’d be leaving the day she found out.

- Well, that’s not happening. Isn’t this good news?

- Oh, definitely.

- I suppose I should forget the question I was going to ask you...

- What question? she asks curiously.

- Leah invited us to a party she’s throwing with everyone. Alexia wants us to come because she’s planning to introduce Jenni to Alba.

I quickly explain while playing with her fingers. I knew it would be complicated, but it’s even more so now.

- You know we’ve had this conversation before, Lucy begins, tilting my chin up.

- I know. It’s the others who pressured me...

- I know it’s complicated for you, but we need to stay discreet a little longer. After that, I promise we can shout our love for each other to anyone.

- And go out with my friends?

She rolls her eyes with a small smile. At first, I could tell this situation suited her. I mean, it must be strange for her too, hanging out with people who were once her students.

- Yes, sweetheart. We can go out with your friends. I’d do anything for you.

I kiss her tenderly at this admission. She’s a sweetheart.

- We need to go. Ingrid’s probably waiting for us, she murmurs between kisses.

I pull away and buckle up at the mention.

- Yeah, I heard Mapi’s coming this morning...

- That’s right. Ingrid told me how upset you were about it, she chuckles, placing a hand on my thigh as she starts the car. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I completely forgot because of your condition.

- It’s my fault too. I’ve been so out of it...

- Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re allowed to work hard during the week, she unexpectedly defends me. Mapi will understand.

- Hmm...

- If it helps, I gave her updates on your behalf.

- Really? I asked, surprised.

- Well, yes. She worries when you don’t reply, so she comes to me.

- Thanks.

- You don’t have to thank me for that. She’s your best friend.

- Yes, but it’s not like you’re her biggest fan, I chuckled.

She rolls her eyes in amusement.

- True, she mutters. But you’d be surprised what we could do together for you.

I smile at the thought. I think she’s right. Even if they don’t exactly get along, they’d tolerate each other for my sake. We finally arrive at Ingrid’s place to pick her up. I offered to let her sit up front, but she insisted I stay there. Next stop: the airport. Our chat with Lucy made us late, so by the time we get there, Mapi is already waiting with her suitcase. She greets us one by one, finishing, of course, with Ingrid, whom she can’t stop kissing.

- Couldn’t resist coming, huh? I teased.

- Nope, not really. I’m taking the opportunity to bring some things over and see you both, since I heard you won’t be around for the next holidays.

- That’s true, I admit with a shy smile. Sorry about that.

Lucy pulls me into a hug when she notices how I feel. It’s a fair complaint. I didn’t handle these holidays, but I do know Lucy booked our tickets—and Jenni and Alexia’s—this week.

- It’s okay, I’m just teasing. Your girlfriend defended you enough for me to forgive you, she says, giving me a little hug.

I really need to thank Lucy for that. Usually, Mapi holds grudges much longer. Finally, we head to the restaurant. We’re all starving. Our girlfriends take us to a place I haven’t been before. Mapi seems in good spirits, chatting non-stop about her plans to move here after the school year. Her doubts are far behind her now. She hasn’t heard from her parents in a long time either. She confided that she thinks it’s time to cut ties with them for good. I can only support her in that. I’ve met them once, but they were never really around due to their work. When they did talk to their daughter, it was mostly to criticize her or try to convince her to change her mind about taking over the family business. In that kind of situation, there’s no point in staying in contact. I really admire Mapi’s courage. Even though my mom and I were estranged for a long time, I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do the same. I’m very tied to family, especially because of the promises I made to my dad. Plus, if Mapi were in my situation, I doubt her parents would have offered the help my mom gave me last year. I can blame my mom for a lot of things, but not that, and it’s why I decided to reconnect with her.

- I ran into Abby this week while grocery shopping, Mapi tells me.

- Really? I say, not looking up from the menu.

I’m thinking of getting a burger. I saw one go by, and it looked delicious. Our drinks arrive within minutes. The service seems fast, which is good because I’m starving.

- She told me about the wedding... Is that why you reacted so strongly the last time she visited?

- Not really. There were a lot of things that set me off.

- I’m not going to force you to talk about it, but I think Abby believes you don’t want to come. You should give her a call if you plan on going. That’s all she’s waiting for.

- Do you know the date? She didn’t have time to tell us, Lucy asks.

- Uh, I don’t remember exactly. I think it’s in June.

So soon? I must have shown my surprise because she gives me a sympathetic smile.

- Well, I guess you should call her today, huh? Lucy advises, rubbing my thigh to comfort me.

In just two months, my mom will marry another man. I’m struggling to process it. Everything must have been planned behind my back for months. Lucy kisses my temple, and the conversation moves on. I have trouble following. It’s like my mom was waiting for me to finish school so I could attend the wedding. It warms my heart, in a way. She’s hoping I’ll be there, despite everything that’s happened between us.

We’ll talk more about it when we get home, if you want, Lucy whispers in my ear. »

I nod and snuggle up to her on the bench we're sharing. I'm not sure if it will be necessary, but it always feels good to confide in her. Meanwhile, Mapi keeps talking about how hard she's been working lately. Looks like I'm not the only one pushing myself for this final stretch. The only difference is that she manages to juggle her two lives without anyone saying anything to her. I think I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, too. It's not easy to catch up on everything I've missed. But I’m going to hang in there. I'm almost there.

Friday, March 25th; 10:15 PM - Ona and Lucy’s Apartment

We’ve just come home for the first time today. I’m glad to be back in our place. The atmosphere immediately puts me at ease. We spent the day with the girls, in town, then at the gym later in the afternoon where Jenni, Alexia, and Beth were still working, preparing to receive the first pieces of furniture in two weeks. Then, it’ll finally be vacation time. I sigh as I settle next to my girlfriend on the couch.

- “Relieved to be home?”

- “Oh yes!” I reply. “It’s good to relax too.”

- “Definitely.”

I sigh contentedly as my head falls onto her lap. Lucy immediately starts running her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes to enjoy the moment to the fullest.

- “Do you want to call your mom?”

- “Oh no,” I groan. “Not tonight. I’ll do it tomorrow, when I can take my time.”

I lay on my side, placing my hand on her thigh. It’s a pretty comfortable position. Lucy is sitting with her feet stretched out on the other side of the couch, facing the TV. She flips through the channels before settling on some random series I’m not really paying attention to.

- “Are you feeling good about going to your mom’s wedding?”

I nod, lifting my head to look at Lucy. She’s watching me intently. She’s always so worried about me, and it’s adorable.

- “She wants us there, so we’ll be there.”

- “Alright…”

- “Shouldn't we be thinking about our next vacation instead?” I ask.

- “If you want. I didn’t tell you, but… I booked a ticket to land in Lisbon.”

- “What? How come?”

- “Well, since we’re already going to Portugal, I thought we might as well visit the city where you grew up and where your dad is buried.”

- “That’s amazing! Thank you so much.”

- “It’s no big deal,” she smiles.

- “How long will we stay? I guess you’ve already planned everything?”

She laughs and nods.

- “We’ll arrive in Porto around the same time as Jenni and Alexia, for about a week.”

- “You’re so sweet, always thinking of me.”

- “I know,” she jokes. “Do you have any family we could stay with?”

- “Of course. My grandfather.”

- “Oh, right. The one you like so much, right?”

- “Yes! I can’t wait for you to meet him! I’ll let him know as soon as I can. He’s going to be so happy.”

I sit up and straddle her to show my gratitude with a big hug.

- “Thank you, really. I love you so much.”

- “I love you too, my love.”

We kiss tenderly before I rest my head on her shoulder.

- “Are you sure your parents are going to like me?”

She laughs, running her hand through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. It’s a fear that haunts me. I’m afraid they won’t accept me, and that Lucy might leave me because of it. When I lift my head again, she looks at me with adoration, her eyes filled with all the love she has for me.

- “I promise they will.”

- “You seem really sure of that…”

- “Stop worrying about it. They’re going to love you. They’re actually really excited to meet you.”

- “Really…? You’ve already told them about me?”

- “Of course. I’ve had plenty of chances to call them from school and talk about you. They know you exist and that we’re coming in a few weeks. They also know you were my student at school, why you were there, but most importantly, they know how much I love you.”

- “Y-you told them everything!? Oh my God!”

I try to pull away, but Lucy holds me back with a small laugh. There’s nothing funny about this! How could she tell her parents that I was a former junkie who ran away with my ex to ruin my life?

- “Calm down. I did it to save you from a bunch of awkward questions. I wanted to tell them myself so they’d know what to expect. Mostly, I wanted them to understand how much you mean to me and that they’d better not traumatize you. Well, at least not my dad. He’s a saint compared to my mom.”

- “Fantastic,” I say sarcastically.

Lucy smiles and presses her lips to mine.

- “I promise you don’t have to worry. And how about we head to bed now, huh? We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, again.”

- “OK…” I murmur. “Speaking of tomorrow, I made a few sketches for the walls of the rooms you guys want me to decorate.”

- “Oh, really? I won’t ask when you found time to do that.”

- “In my room,” I reply. “Who do you think I am? I’ve become responsible!”

I squeal as she lifts me up, turning off the TV in the process. The way she carries me to our bedroom brings back so many memories.

- “Of course, my love. We’ll take a look at them in the morning. Right now, it’s time for bed.”

I smile, snuggling back against her shoulder. I’m not going to argue with that.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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deancasbigbang · 2 days

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Title: La Frontera

Author: Owco

Artist: rezal

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Jesse Cuevas/Cesar Cuevas

Length: 24000

Warnings: No archive warnings apply, canon typical violence, internalized homophobia

Tags: canon divergent, case-fic, established relationship

Posting Date: October 28, 2024

Summary: Something is picking off men along the Rio Grande river. Luckily, Cas, Dean, and Sam are on the case. As they hunt the mysterious monster, Dean gets more than he bargained for as he is forced to confront his ongoing ill-defined relationship with Cas.

Excerpt: “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was going to the car to get something and I heard voices.” Dean doesn’t mention that the ‘something’ was whiskey because he’d been laying in bed thinking about how nice it would be if Cas showed up. “I understand. She wished to ask me about God and Heaven, and a series of other questions I’m afraid I couldn’t answer,” Cas says ruefully. He looks tired and worn, Dean has often wondered what it would feel like to never sleep. Cas never catches a break, not even for a night. Not really. Dean steps forward and pulls him into a kiss. Cas melts into it, he always does. It’s like coming home each and every time. He puts his hands on Dean’s hips, then breaks the kiss to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. Perhaps this is as close to rest as Castiel ever really gets, in the dark liminal spaces they carve out together. Cas looks too wrung out to be interested in sex, so instead Dean wraps his arms around him and gathers him into his chest. Cas puts his weight into Dean and lets himself be held. Cas tilts his head out of Dean’s shirt just enough to say, “She knew the name Cassiel, and asked if that was another of my names. I haven’t been called that in some time, not since I was a soldier of Heaven, certainly. It was my name to many, but somehow when she said it I almost told her that wasn’t me. I’m so different now, it felt unfair to tell her I was the same Angel. I am, yet I’m not.” Dean strokes his back. He understands not recognizing yourself. He sometimes has a hard time believing that the hunter living out of his car while his brother was away at Stanford is the same man whose voice is still rough from screaming for forty years in Hell. He doesn’t say it, Cas knows. Cas was the one who had pulled him out. Instead Dean answers his own question from earlier; his touch does ease the tension out of Cas. Dean has only known his touch to hurt and burn, so he marvels at how Cas’s muscles loosen under him as he runs his hand up and down his back. “Thank you, Dean.” Cas’s voice is muffled by Dean’s flannel. “Anytime, buddy.” He should touch Cas more, he doesn’t deserve thanks for a little hug. It shouldn’t be something special.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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ahllohehn · 2 days

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Uh, here's the infodump of another hermitshipping AU I have no confidence I will finish. As another answer to Castor's ask

For all his life, Mumbo believed that he was difficult to love. Though, yes, he was quite tall, gentlemanly, and had a lovely mustache– features that would attract plenty of people, but that’s not enough to show the world how much of a mess he actually is.

He preferred work over playing, spectating over participating, making art instead of finding love… Yeah, Mumbo had long concluded that he wasn’t cut out for a married life at all.

So when someone as lovely as Grian came around saying; “I like you.” Mumbo found it hard to believe.

At the time, Mumbo had thought that Grian approached him either out of pity or because some friend had dared him to. At least, the blonde man had looked like he was forced there, judging by the way he kept fidgeting on the spot and was so red in the face he couldn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes. So Mumbo, without even questioning anything else, had just agreed to go out with him in hopes that he would help out the man from whatever predicament he got himself in.

At the time, he thought the relief and surprise on Grian’s face had been a silent expression of gratefulness for Mumbo’s mercy- for just agreeing to date him to get things over with. The raven haired man thought that he was being a hero to the gentleman in distress.

Mumbo went through about 15 dates with the man, suppressing urges to actually fall in love, fully expecting Grian to eventually break up and fess up that he won the bet with his friends and that they could both finally go back to their individual boring lives.

Mumbo waited.

Waited even after he took Grian into his apartment after his family had kicked him out.

Waited even after the 5 cups of coffee he brewed for Grian when was having a particularly busy night for an architectural project.

Waited even after they were both able to get up on the stage and get their diplomas together.

Waited even after they celebrated getting their first jobs together.

Even after deciding to get a house together…

Even after deciding to sleep on the same bed…

Even after they exchanged vows…

And it was during dinner when Mumbo was zoning out did he realize;

“Wait, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he mumbled out in surprise, causing Grian beside him to raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What wasn’t how it was supposed to go?”

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth, staring at his husband in disbelief. In disbelief that he isn’t in college anymore, that they weren’t just “dating” anymore.

They’re literally both sitting here, eating warm dinner together, under the same house they both own, way past the newlywed stage, and not at all broken up like how Mumbo had expected since the start.

“When are you divorcing me?” he blurted out mid-thought.

A loud ‘CLANK’ rang out at the dinner table as Grian dropped his fork, causing Mumbo to flinch violently in reaction, before then proceeding to outright shiver in fear as Grian’s expression turned from confusion to something akin to incredulity.

It was then that Mumbo realized what he had just said.

“What did you just say?” Grian stared at him with widened eyes. Mumbo swallowed nervously and was failing to meet the other’s eyes. He needed to explain himself quick.

“I-it’s just, you know! Are you not unhappy with having to stick with me for this long? I would’ve thought–” Mumbo was cut off by a slam to the table. He would’ve gone on a tangent about how Grian must’ve made a mistake to stick with him for this long 7 years into their marriage, but he was at least smart enough to know not to continue that monologue.

Not especially when Grian, who was rarely actually mad, was actually mad.

“Why on earth would you think that? What makes you think I think that?” Grian’s face was scrunched up in an offended manner, he kept an intense gaze on the taller’s figure, urging for an answer.

Mumbo’s shoulders were hiked up to his ears, “Didn’t you marry me out of pity?” His voice came out squeaky, almost as if even his lungs were scared to work under Grian’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Would I marry someone out of pity?!”

“M-Maybe?! Didn’t you just date me because you were forced to?”

Grian’s jaw dropped and he looked at Mumbo as if he grew a second head. He hunched over the table and buried his face into his hands, letting out an extremely tired sigh that made Mumbo hesitate on whether he should take back everything he said and go reach out to comfort the man.

Not that he was given a chance to, Grian didn’t even meet his eyes as he stood up snappily, the chair screeching against their floor, “Good heavens, I need a moment,” and so he left, stomping off to their shared bedroom and leaving a cold half-eaten plate of dinner on the table.

Mumbo stared at his own plate with dread.

It was when the loneliness he prepared himself to get used to long ago settled over the dining table did he realize his situation; he’s not as prepared as he thought he was for a lonely life and he pissed off Grian. Even worse, he probably hurt him.

Mumbo could’ve sworn his own wedding vows had said he promised he wouldn’t do that.

“Pants.”

<hr>

Mumbo was having a bad day, although that’s mainly his fault and his fault only.

He went to the studio earlier than usual. 2 hours earlier than usual, but that’s to be the case when you can’t really get any more proper sleep on a couch that’s smaller than your own person.

After spending a gruesome dinner alone (or rather sitting at the dinner table silently questioning your life before deciding to put the leftovers away and cleaning up), Grian had expectedly locked him out of their bedroom. Mumbo had to remind himself over and over again through an uncomfortable cold, blanket-less night that this was the consequence of his own actions so he has no right to complain.

He found himself grateful for Grian who decided to unlock the bedroom door some time in the middle of the morning to let Mumbo have access to his clothes at least. Although it was uncomfortable to tip-toe around the bedroom to avoid awakening the sleeping monster on the bed while preparing for work.

The scariest part was actually finishing preparations and leaving the room, thinking you had completed the stealth mission successfully, only to find out you didn’t. He hadn’t known Grian was awake the entire time until he heard a soft call from the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the monster of the bed had said. Mumbo swallowed and lingered by the bedroom door, looking around nervously as if to truly put thought into his answer, “Um, g-g-good morning?”

“....” Grian pushed him out of the room and slammed the door on him.

“I messed up even more,” Mumbo groaned in remembrance of the scene this morning and melted into his office chair, barely paying any attention to the emails on his monitor screen. He thought diving into work would distract him from reminding him of how he ruined his marriage, but the dullness of work just had him thinking even more than he did back at home.

Grian wasn’t around, so Mumbo’s brain finally had the space to worry more about the situation rather than worry about sneaking around his own house. It left him tired, adding to the fact that he barely has any sleep.

He was too tired to react even to the sound of someone knocking on his door frame before rudely stepping into his office anyway.

“Well, don’t you look horrible,” newly entered Iskall pointed out with a worried but amused grin, putting down a cup of coffee on Mumbo’s desk, right next to the other empty paper cups of coffee. 4 empty cups to signal just how much he’s been chugging since this morning.

Mumbo did look horrible, “I’m very aware,” His eyebags that had always been there looked a lot more prominent now. His usually styled hair was unruly, strands sticking out in all directions. He looked as if he was there working since 2 days ago, but really, he’s only been clocked in for almost 3 hours, “Just started the day wrong.”

“What? Woke up on the wrong side of bed or something?”

Mumbo winced and brushed his hair back, tugging at it in stress, “I didn’t even wake up on a bed.”

Iskall didn’t respond immediately, staring at Mumbo like he was trying to understand what he was getting at. When his brain did finally come to a conclusion with the small hints Mumbo presented, he put on a dramatic look of shock, “Have you finally reached that stage of marriage in which the wife punishes her unruly husband by making him sleep on the couch?”

The raven haired sent a deadpan stare over to Iskall’s direction, making the man backtrack and change his tone, “Serious situation? Alright, I’ll bite. What’s up with your oh-so-seemingly-perfect marriage?”

“I think I made Grian mad,” Mumbo wasn’t one to talk too much about his relationships, as it had no connection to his work whatsoever and he didn’t really want to attach himself to the relationship too much considering that he genuinely did think there was soon to be an ending to it.

But now, seeing that his husband was actually throwing an angry tantrum for a rare time of his life, his brain is suddenly throwing all other thoughts out the window. It was as if he’s just forgotten that he was expecting Grian to have an incentive to leave him, now just focused on making Grian feel better because some part of his brain went through an ick seeing the man so devastated.

“I-I was just… I questioned when he was filing for divorce because I thought he would’ve left me all those years ago already. I thought he was staying because he felt guilty enough to commit to the bit… or some sort.”

The way Iskall’s face scrunched up incredulity reminded Mumbo of how Grian did the same, “You went through college together, made your friends suffer your disgusting pining all throughout, graduated together, shared a kiss at the marriage altar, and you still actually think Grian has just been staying with you because he felt bad for you,” Mumbo nodded along.

“The entire decade he spent with you because you thought HE PITIED YOU?”

Mumbo hesitated before nodding again, but more sheepishly. Iskall looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, which made the raven haired even more embarrassed for some reason. Mapping it all out, he knows it’s all stupid, but he hardwired his brain to long expect the worst for himself already. Mumbo genuinely felt that there was no way someone as good as Grian was allowed in his life.

There should’ve been a better possible world where Grian is happier, only to be stopped by none other than himself.

“Geez, if I were your husband, I’d throw a fit over you bringing up divorce too. Even more when you seem like you’re encouraging me to do it after dedicating my entire life to you.”

“But you’re not my husband,” Mumbo said defensively.

Iskall raised his hands up in surrender, “Chill, dude. I’m no homewrecker. Grian would cut off a limb if I even begin to think you’re my type.”

Mumbo huffs, “You’re so unhelpful.”

“I just asked what’s up, not that I offered to give you actual advice.”

Fair enough. He did say that.

Seeing as the conversation was going nowhere, Mumbo rested his head on the table frustratingly, his brain continuing to work overtime on trying to find solutions or explanations to this situation. Iskall pitifully patted him on the back as he silently tried to get his life together again.

“Do you really think he cares enough?” Mumbo finally spoke, causing his co-worker to snap out of his own daze and looking at him questioningly. The mustached man rose up from his awkward position and reiterated his statement, “Does he actually care enough to cut off your limbs?”

Iskall took his arm back to his side and slowly backed out of the office, squinting his eyes at Mumbo suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re aware as to how much Grian truly cares…”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, his eyes following Iskall backing away, “Wh- Where are you going? It’s not like he’d actually go and cut off your limbs. It was a hypothetical question!”

“You really aren’t aware,” and Mumbo wasn’t even given anymore time to react before Iskall ran out of his office like his life actually depended on it.

<hr>

#This was one of the AUs that was meant to get a 'book cover'#It didn't continue because of college #It's not angsty #It was meant to be a comedic romance lol #hermitshipping #grumbo #mumbo jumbo #grian #hermitshipping au #ahllhohehn cant stfu

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goblinontour · 22 hours

Text

There’s Still A Trace

he’s so predictable

warnings: smut, angst, masturbation (m receiving), cheating

word count: 3.2k

He stared at his phone for what felt like an eternity, the glow of your message illuminating the otherwise dark room. He had no reason to call you. Not one that made sense, at least. She was right there, tucked under the sheets beside him, her body curled into the mattress. He could feel the warmth of her near him, her familiar scent lingering in the air. But that wasn’t enough, hadn’t been for a while. It was you, always you, occupying the space in his mind, like a fire he couldn’t put out.

His thumb hovered over your name, hesitating. His pulse quickened in that familiar way it always did before he reached out, before he allowed himself to give in to this need, this pull. He didn’t know why he felt so entitled, why it felt like he had a right to you, even now, even when she was sleeping soundly right next to him. His chest tightened as he finally tapped your name, the ringing on the other end dragging out, each second louder than the last, until-

“Alex?” Your voice was soft, uncertain. He could almost see the way your lips parted when you said his name, the slight confusion etched in your features. It had been a while since you’d spoken, but whatever this was never really faded.

He whispered, “Hey.” The sound was barely there, his voice low and rough, and thick with exhaustion and something deeper, something that tugged at him in a way he couldn’t ignore. His accent slurred, as it often did when he was tired, making the words harder to decipher, but you knew him. You always did.

You paused on the other end, his quiet greeting catching you off guard. The silence lingered for a beat. “Alex, why are you calling?” you finally asked.

He shifted under the covers, his body instinctively leaning away from her as though even in sleep, she could feel the weight of his betrayal. “I don’t know.” he admitted, eyes closing for a moment as he let out a slow breath. “I just...I needed to hear your voice.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, it was like nothing else existed but the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets as he adjusted himself, heart pounding against his ribs.

“How are you?” he asked. He didn’t need to know, not really, but he wanted the connection, the intimacy of it. It was a question he used to ask all the time, a habit formed from late nights spent talking with you, your voices low, as though the night itself was a conspirator in your secret.

“I’m fine.” you said quietly, the breathlessness in your voice making his stomach twist. “You?”

He closed his eyes again, head resting against the pillow as he exhaled slowly. “I miss you.” he whispered. The admission felt dangerous, like crossing a line he couldn’t come back from. His fingers, as if drawn by the words themselves, moved down his body, brushing over the thin fabric of his boxers. The faintest touch made him inhale sharply. He knew this was wrong but the thought of you, just the sound of your voice, was enough to stir something primal in him.

“Alex…” Your voice wavered, but you didn’t tell him to stop. You never did. Never even tried.

His hand slid lower, fingers wrapping around his cock through the fabric, the warmth of his palm seeping through to the other side. He moved slowly at first, as if testing the waters, feeling out the edges of his own desire before diving inside. His hips shifted under the covers, the sensation of his hand stroking himself making him bite down on his lip to stay quiet. She was still there, after all.

“Is she home?” you asked, pulling him back to the present, your voice tinged with a question you already knew the answer to.

He glanced to his left, his eyes landing on her peaceful form, the way her hair was splayed out across the pillow, her back turned to him. Unaware. “Yeah.” he murmured.

“And she’s asleep?” you pressed, your voice softer now, more curious than before.

His grip tightened around himself beneath the sheets, a soft groan escaping his throat as he moved his hand with a little more purpose. “Yeah, she’s asleep.” he managed, eyes closing again as he focused on the rhythm of his strokes, the way his body responded to just the thought of you.

You were silent for a moment, and he could almost feel the weight of your questions, the way you were piecing this scene together in your mind. “Are you in bed?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you wanted the answer.

He exhaled shakily, his hand moving faster now, the friction sending a wave of pleasure through his body that made him clench his jaw. “Yeah.” he whispered, glancing at her again, his heart racing. His hips shifted slightly, the movement slow as he continued stroking himself, his breathing becoming heavier.

“So...you’re in bed, next to her?” Your voice was a quiet, disbelieving murmur, the words hanging in the air like a challenge, like something you both knew you shouldn’t be doing but couldn’t stop.

“Yeah…” he said again, the word drawn out. He could feel himself getting harder, the tension in his body rising with every stroke, every whisper from you on the other end of the line. His thumb brushed over the head of his cock, the sensation pulling a low groan from his throat that he quickly stifled.

There was silence. Neither of you spoke. His hand tightened around himself, his strokes becoming faster, more insistent, as though he could pull you closer with each movement.

“She can’t hear…” he whispered suddenly, his voice ragged, barely holding it together. His eyes flicked to her again, making sure she was still asleep, still oblivious to what was happening just inches away from her.

On the other end of the line, you exhaled softly, the sound making him bite down on his lip to keep from making a sound. You couldn’t see him, but he knew you could hear it. The way his breath hitched, the quiet urgency in his voice. His movements were erratic now, each stroke bringing him closer to a release that felt as inevitable as it was forbidden.

And he didn’t care. Not in that moment. Because all he wanted was you.

The line crackled. You could hear his breathing, uneven and slightly ragged, and your own heart began to race, matching the rhythm of his shallow inhales. You knew what was happening on his end, even if he didn’t say it. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, you could almost feel it, the weight of his need pressing against the quiet.

There was a faint rustling, just audible enough to make you wonder. The soft sound of fabric shifting, the sheets moving against skin. You swallowed hard, knowing the truth but wanting to hear him say it.

“Alex...” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, cautious but laced with a curiosity that burned hotter with each second. “Are you...touching yourself?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. You could hear his breathing grow heavier, the silence between you thickening. He shifted again under the covers, his hand still working beneath the fabric, the sensation making his head spin. His grip tightened instinctively at your question, his hips giving a small, involuntary thrust in response.

“How could I do such a thing?” he rasped, his voice low and hoarse, a weak attempt at denying what you both already knew. But the way he said it gave him away. His words were a thin veil, one that neither of you believed for a second.

He didn’t want to admit it. To himself or to you. But you both knew exactly what was happening. There was no point in trying to hide it. His breathing told you everything his words didn’t, the slight hitch in his throat every time his hand moved, the soft rustling of sheets that he couldn’t conceal.

“You don’t have to lie.” you said softly, the understanding between you so palpable, it didn’t need to be spelled out. You could practically feel him on the other end of the line, picture him under those sheets, touching himself to the sound of your voice.

In between breaths, he let out a soft, shaky laugh, almost as if he were trying to deflect, to lighten the tension. But you could hear it in his voice, the way it faltered. “You know…” he started, his voice low and breathy, pausing as if to gather himself. “We had sex earlier…”

Your stomach tightened at his words, the way he said it cutting through the air like a knife. You said nothing, but your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I had sex with her.” he continued, his voice rough, as though each word was being pulled from him against his will. He paused again, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the strain in his voice, the way he struggled to keep control. “I had her on her knees…”

“Alex-” you whispered, not wanting to hear any more. Not wanting to picture it. But he didn’t let you finish. His words tumbled out, raw and urgent, like a confession he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I had her on her knees.” he repeated, firmer this time, as though saying it again made it more real, more tangible. His hand tightened around himself beneath the sheets, his strokes growing erratic, the memory of earlier blending with the reality of now. “So I couldn’t see her face…I pretended it was you.”

The admission was raw, brutal in its honesty. He’d buried himself in her body, but his mind, his heart, had been with you the whole time.

“I kept thinking about you.” he murmured, each word dragging out between heavy breaths. “I couldn’t stop. I needed it to be you.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. His hand moved faster, the heat in his body building, his skin slick with sweat as he gave in completely to the fantasy of you. His hips shifted beneath the sheets, the pleasure rising, overwhelming, as he stroked himself harder, chasing the release he could feel creeping closer with every passing second.

“I pretended it was you…” he repeated, voice ragged and strained as he neared the edge. His words came out in broken fragments, punctuated by pauses where he tried to steady his breathing, tried to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. “I thought about you…the whole time.”

You exhaled shakily. You wanted to say something, anything, but the moment was too charged, too fragile, and all you could do was listen, heart racing in your chest.

His body trembled with the effort to stay quiet, to not wake her as she slept beside him. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” he breathed, voice barely audible now, lost in the sound of his own heavy breathing. “It’s always you.”

It was too much now, too real.

Alex was right on the edge, his body tightening with every stroke of his hand. His chest rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths, trying and failing to keep it quiet. His grip tightened around his cock, his thumb swiping over the head with every upward stroke, the friction unbearable. The fabric of his boxers was damp now, clinging to his skin as his hand worked faster, faster, faster, unable to stop. He was too far gone.

“Fuck-” he hissed, the word spilling from his lips before he could catch it. It came out louder than he intended, sharper, the sound cutting through the quiet room like a crack in the night. He felt the surge, the heat coiling in his gut, his hips giving a hard, involuntary thrust as his body seized up.

His hand squeezed tighter, the sensation cresting into something unbearable, and with a strangled moan, he came, hot and fast. His cock twitched under his fingers as the cum spurted thick and warm against his palm, soaking into the fabric of his boxers. His breath caught in his throat, a low groan slipping past his lips as his hips bucked helplessly, riding out the wave of pleasure.

The wet heat of it pooled around his hand, spreading against his skin, sticky, the fabric clinging to him in a mess of his own making. His strokes slowed, his grip loosening as the last few pulses of his release spilled out, leaving him trembling and breathless under the covers. His hand stilled completely, the weight of what just happened sinking in, heavy and inescapable.

You called his name softly, your voice still on the other end of the line, barely cutting through the haze in his mind. But he didn’t answer. He couldn’t. It was as if, the moment his orgasm faded, the world came crashing back down on him, reality hitting him like a cold wave of guilt and confusion. The pleasure was already fading, replaced by the gnawing sense that he’d gone too far. Much too far.

For a brief moment, he just lay there, frozen, the phone still pressed to his ear but his mind somewhere else entirely. The silence on your end was deafening, and the soft rustling of the sheets beside him felt suddenly too loud, too real.

She stirred.

His heart stopped.

He turned his head just in time to see her shift under the covers, her body turning toward him, her face still half-buried in the pillow. His breath caught in his throat, panic flooding his chest as he stared at her, eyes wide, pulse pounding in his ears. She hadn’t heard him…had she? No, no way.

The phone was still in his hand, his fingers gripping it tightly. The sticky mess in his boxers felt suffocating. And for a moment, he didn’t know what to do first. Should he end the call? Should he move? Should he clean himself up? The thought of her waking up fully and seeing him like this, soiled, guilty, caught in the act…no.

He glanced down at his hand, still slick with cum, his skin flushed. The sheets were damp. He felt trapped, caught in this moment where nothing made sense anymore, where desire and guilt collided in a chaotic swirl that left him breathless and shaken.

You said his name again, softer this time, and it cut through the panic, grounding him just enough to snap him out of his daze. But still, he didn’t answer. He couldn’t find the words, couldn’t even begin to explain what had just happened or why he felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him. His mind raced, his body still trembling, as he lay there, paralyzed between two worlds. Between you and her. Between the fantasy he’d just indulged in and the reality he was trapped in now.

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, until finally, she settled back into sleep, her breathing slow and even again. But the relief that washed over him was short-lived, because the truth of what had just happened lingered, heavy and undeniable.

His breath hitched as he swallowed hard, the words you’d said still lingering in his ears. But he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t find it in himself to respond, not now, not after what had just happened.

Without another word, without a goodbye, he ended the call. His thumb hovered over the screen for only a second before he tapped it. The line went dead, your voice gone, and in the silence that followed, the reality of what he’d just done hit him like a punch to the gut.

He just sat there, frozen, his chest heaving with deep, shaky breaths. His mind was a mess. The pleasure he’d felt only moments ago had drained from him, leaving nothing but an aching emptiness in its wake.

With a low, frustrated exhale, he threw the covers off and sat up, his bare feet hitting the cold floor with a dull thud. His heart raced as he glanced to his left, where she still lay, still unaware. But he couldn’t stay there, couldn’t bear the thought of lying beside her any longer.

He stood up suddenly, the motion too fast, too sharp, but he didn’t care. The sheets rustled, the floor creaked beneath his weight, and he stumbled out of the bed, his legs unsteady beneath him. The sticky fabric of his boxers clung to his skin as he moved, making his stomach twist with disgust.

Just as he reached the bathroom door, his hand on the handle, he heard her stir behind him. His body went rigid, every muscle tensing as her soft voice broke the quiet.

“Alex?” she murmured sleepily, her voice groggy and confused, like she’d just surfaced from a dream. “Where are you going?”

The sound of her voice made his stomach churn. She was waking up. She was starting to notice. His pulse raced, panic flaring in his chest, but he couldn’t look back.

“I’ll be right back.” he muttered quickly, his voice strained, barely audible as he pushed open the bathroom door. He didn’t wait for her to respond. He couldn’t.

He stepped inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click, but it felt like a slam in the quiet of the night. His hands were shaking as he flicked on the light, the harsh fluorescent glow blinding him for a moment as he blinked against it. The brightness only made everything feel more exposed, more raw.

He stared at himself in the mirror, his reflection looking back at him with wide, guilt-ridden eyes. His hair was a mess, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

The shame crept up on him, slow and suffocating, until it wrapped around his chest like a vice. He gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles white as he tried to steady himself, but the guilt was too much. He could still feel it. Your voice in his ear, the sound of your breath on the other end of the line. He could still feel the pleasure that had ripped through him just moments ago, the way he’d lost himself in the fantasy of you, while she had been lying just inches away, asleep and oblivious.

His stomach twisted violently, and he felt the bile rising in his throat. How had he let it go this far? How had he let himself slip so deeply into this? He wanted to tear the fabric from his skin, scrub away the guilt, the shame, the mess he’d made of himself, of everything.

He turned on the tap, the sound of running water filling the small room, drowning out the thoughts screaming in his mind. He splashed cold water on his face, the shock of it jolting him for a moment, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t erase anything. It didn’t make him feel any cleaner.

She called his name again from the bedroom, her voice still soft, still laced with confusion, but there was a hint of concern now, a slight edge to her tone. “Alex? Are you okay?”

But he couldn’t answer. He couldn’t face her. Not yet. Not like this.

a/n: wrote this cause i was feeling off the other day so he has to suffer as well ig

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour

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ak319 · 17 hours

Text

Weird Yan Cousin x reader (Platonic)

//Warnings: Mentions of prostitution, human trafficking, kidnapping, weird behaviour but not incest, gore)

Your life had taken such a twisted turn for the worse this year, leaving you wondering if you were cursed. First, your parents died tragically in a fire that destroyed their home. Then, you found out your partner had been unfaithful. Since you shared an apartment, you had to move out, but they stayed, and the two of you were still arguing about selling it to split the money.

As if that wasn’t enough, you lost your job just three days after the breakup--allegedly for poor performance, which was completely untrue. None of this was your fault, yet everything seemed to be spiralling out of control. You were teetering on the edge when you received a strange phone call.

It was from someone claiming to be a distant cousin, Nova Salem. The name struck a chord--she was from your father’s side, the daughter of your uncle Ralph. But you had never met her or any of that side of the family. Your father had severed ties with them long ago. Ralph was only his half-brother, born from your second grandfather, Edmund Salem, whom you’d also never met.

Her sudden call made you feel uneasy, but you were desperate for help, and she offered it without hesitation. Pushing aside all the questions swirling in your mind--about your family dynamics, her abrupt contact, and the series of unfortunate events that felt like a row of dominoes crashing--you packed your bag. The next day, Nova's chauffeuse, Robyn, picked you up from your friend's place.

Robyn was an odd one, giving you mostly one-word, cryptic answers to anything you asked. What really threw you, though, was the route she took. You’d assumed Nova lived somewhere in the city, but Robyn just kept driving... and driving.

Now, here you were, standing in front of a massive estate in the middle of nowhere. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Robyn suddenly spoke from behind you.

"Let's get you inside, ma'am." Robyn's voice cut through the eerie silence as you gripped the strap of your bag, letting out a nervous chuckle. "Um, are you sure this is--"

"Yes, it's the Salem estate."

You glanced around, trying to keep your nerves in check. It could easily pass as a horror movie set, noting the distant tree line, the stormy skies, and the endless dirt road behind. Was this even the right choice? Panic started to creep in. What if she's not my cousin and just stalked my family tree to lure me here?! I am so stupid!

"Welcome, cousin."

Your eyes snapped forward to see a tall figure standing in the entrance, finally registering. Nova, no doubt. She stood taller than you, with short, thick black hair neatly styled, wearing a black turtleneck beneath a long cloak-like robe, paired with black pants...and bare feet?

Before you could even react, she closed the distance and pulled you into a tight hug, muffling your greeting and leaving you a bit breathless from the unexpected embrace.

"I can't believe you're finally here! You see this, Robyn?!" Nova exclaimed, her large hand gripping your head and shaking it playfully. "My little sister is here at last!"

Robyn merely nodded and silently took your other suitcase inside, leaving just the two of you.

"S-sister?" you stammered, taken aback. Her eyes gleamed even brighter, if that was possible, the intensity in her gaze at odds with her composed appearance.

"Indeed, my soror," she affirmed, her hands now firmly grasping your shoulders. "I never got the chance to feel the love of siblings, and with all the family drama and stuff, I was always left out. I never had the chance to have any real connection with family. You’re the only cousin I have."

Her words tugged at your heart, though you couldn’t shake the underlying suspicion.

"No other cousins at all?" you asked, cautiously.

"Nope. My mother was an only child. Anyway, let's get you inside." Nova kept her hold on you, gently steering you toward the entrance. Just before stepping in, she paused, making sure you took off your shoes in the porch. "Enter humbly," she said with a strange conviction. "We are born of the earth, and to the earth, we will return. It’s only right that we honour our origin, for soil should never fear soil."

What? The statement left you puzzled, but you decided to go along with it, stepping inside the dimly lit hallway.

Candles? Really?

"Um, why are the lights off?" you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

"Electricity? Oh, I forgot--you’re a city girl," Nova replied, her tone almost teasing. "I'll ask Robyn to have the switch on for your room--the fan, the lights---but the rest of the house operates without it."

"Why, though? In this day and age? Like, nothing at all?"

Instead of answering, she simply let out a low, eerie chuckle, leaving your nervous laugh hanging awkwardly in the heavy air.

"Let me show you your room." Nova's voice echoed down the dimly lit corridor, where candle flames flickered against the walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The mansion’s interior had an unmistakably gothic feel, with dark wood panelling, high arched ceilings and classic, aged furnishings. The air was thick with an old-world charm as if you had stepped into a place frozen in time. The paintings on the walls, though faded with age, exuded an eerie beauty, depicting somber figures mostly of a woman--always the same portrait of her--and forgotten landscapes

You stepped inside the room, expecting more of the same gloomy charm, only to freeze in disbelief.

What the hell is going on?

"Why is it… all… pink?" you asked, blinking at the sight before you. The walls were plastered with Barbie stickers that looked as vintage as the rest of the house. The bed was oversized and covered in frilly pink bedding, surrounded by plush toys that had seen better days.

"Isn't this what girls love?" Nova said with a wide, innocent smile. "Like little sisters?"

You spun around, trying to process everything. "Hold up. I just met you for the first time ever, so can you please stop calling me your little sister? We're cousins and barely even know each other." Your voice rose as you gestured at the pink explosion around you. "Also, do you think I’m 12?!" The moment the words left your mouth, you felt a pang of regret. Nova’s smile faded, and she looked taken aback. Guilt set in as you realized how harshly you had reacted. She had offered you a place to stay during a rough time. Maybe you could have been more understanding and patient, especially considering she provided you with a bed and a roof over your head.

"Oh my God..." For Nova, that was the most adorable thing she had ever witnessed.

"Um... I--"

"ROBYN! ROBYN!" Nova’s voice cut through the air, making you back away nervously. Her gaze remained fixed on you as she continued to shout.

"Yes, ma'am? How may I assist you?"

"(Y/n)..." Nova grabbed Robyn by the collar, shaking her with surprising force. "My sister--sorry, soon-to-be sister--just had her first tantrum! All thanks to you, Robyn, you absolute genius!"

What in the world--is she being excited or just passive-aggressive? You couldn’t tell.

"It’s okay! I mean, I like it... It’s good."

"You do? You don’t want another room?"

"Um, if... it’s available th--"

"No, it isn’t."

"...this is it then... I guess."

"Robyn, get the food ready. My cousin needs her evening nourishment."

"Aye."

They left you standing in the room, utterly dumbfounded. Everything about this day--and about her--was making you feel dizzy. The way she carries herself, the way she speaks--it’s all becoming a blur. Something in your heart warns that this is going to be a nightmare.

But at least you’re not in some serial killer’s clutches, as you feared before entering. Being an only child and living in such a large mansion might have messed with her mental health, but you hoped it hadn’t gotten worse than this.

The sudden flicker of the lights jolted you from your thoughts, making your soul feel like it had left your body. The room’s colour was now painfully vivid, almost too much to bear. Honestly, the dim glow of the candles was easier on the eyes.

You soon found yourself dining with Nova in the grand dining hall, the two of you beginning to learn about each other. Mostly, you listened to her recounting her adventures. It was impressive how many languages she knew and the places she had visited, though she seemed completely oblivious to modern slang and anything related to media, which you found a bit amusing.

"Anthropologist, huh? Isn't it boring?"

"Boring?" She cackled, her laughter echoing through the vast room. "Absolutely not! I get to travel, explore, and find fascinating things." Judging by the eclectic items scattered around the room, she was certainly telling the truth.

"You seem to have a fondness for skulls."

"Oh! Haha! Aren't they so symbolic in their own way? They are empty, yet their hollow eyes seem to gaze into the essence of mortality itself. Each one holds the silent echoes of a life once lived, a reminder of our own fleeting existence and the stories that we leave behind."

"Are they real?"

"I leave that to the admirer to decide. What do you think?"

"Fake or maybe both, judging by how much you’ve explored."

"You think I’d bring skulls from my adventures?"

"Umm..."

Her laugh interrupted you again. "You’re so naive, (Y/N)."

Just as I suspected.

"Anyway, what about your love life?"

"I don't feel attracted to the idea of being subjected to bodily fluids, particularly in moments of passion. " You felt your appetite slip away.

That’s a rather...unique way to say you’re asexual and single...?

"Cool. But doesn’t it get lonely here?"

"Loneliness isn’t something I mind. Besides, I’m not alone--I have Robyn and now you. A little-"

"Cousin."

"Indeed, a little cousin." You picked up your phone and then realized something. "Oh, I need the Wi-Fi password."

"Sorry, but that might not be possible."

"What?! Don’t tell me you don’t use Wi-Fi! That’s atrocious."

"You see, this technology that the youth have become so attached to has many malevolent effects. I cannot let you be subjected to that."

"What do you mean?! I need to find a job! And how do you do your own work?" Her calm demeanour remained unshaken as Robyn appeared behind you, slamming a newspaper down in front of you. The suddenness startled you. What is it with these people and their jump scares?

"This is today’s paper and your source for finding work."

"Are you kidding me? I need Wi-Fi for my job. I do half of my work online!"

"I’ll need to observe the signs this week. If they are favorable, you might get access. Farewell, cousin. Have a good sleep. Robyn, please escort her to her chambers." You clenched your jaw as she walked away. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! WHAT SIGNS?! SO YOU DO HAVE WI-FI?!"

God, what is going on? Is this a fever dream?

You were absolutely enraged in the following days. Apparently, the signs were negative, which meant you were stuck with no FUCKING Wi-Fi!

"Maybe the signs will be positive next month."

Whatever that means. In the meantime, you faced a series of bizarre occurrences that only deepened the unsettling feeling about your stay here and made you question reality. Despite her insistence on not using electricity, the candles lit themselves as if by some hidden mechanism. You were certain she used Wi-Fi--how else would she manage her research and extensive travels?

Her behavior was equally bewildering. She walked barefoot, even in the muddy grass outside during the rain, and would spend hours out there.

Some events left you sleepless for nights.

You once saw her talking to a pillar in the lawn from your bedroom window at night. At first, you thought she might be on a call, but no. She was facing the pillar the entire time. And then there was the incident where she literally smelled your... period.

"Eat this," she said, offering you a bowl of literal pickles. You swatted it away.

"What the fuck, dude?!"

"It’s to relieve menstrual pains. Although not scientifically proven, it is a good remedy."

"I’m fine. AND HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT AGAIN?!"

"Just a matter of having good senses."

In the evenings, she always visited you for tea, bringing her two black hounds along. Despite your protests, she continued to bring them inside. You hated how they always seemed to sniff under the bed, her dark, void-like eyes trained on them as if she wanted them to find something.

Wouldn't want her cousin hiding something, would she? Perhaps thinking she could slip away, unnoticed, back to her old life?

Due to the lack of Wi-Fi, you spent most of your time reading books and exploring the mansion, trying out the strange array of activities Nova had set up for you. She instructed Robyn to teach you various skills like shooting, wrestling, and knife throwing....? You enjoyed it though but yes, you were shocked to discover that Robyn wasn’t just a driver, chef, or butler but seemed to be some sort of retired hitwoman. She never confirmed nor spoke about herself, adding to the mystery.

Despite the chaos and strangeness, you found yourself adapting to this bizarre new routine, almost treating it like a vacation and unexpectedly lifting you out of your depression.

You tried finding jobs but with no success. Every time you found a promising ad, something mysteriously went wrong with the car. It always seemed to break down, as if on cue. The phone in the estate barely worked, with your friend's voice garbled into unintelligible fragments or the call cutting off entirely before you could get a full sentence in. It was as if the house itself refused to let any connection to the outside world slip through.

One day, you had had enough of watching Nova work on her COMPUTER in her study while you languished in boredom.

"Look, I appreciate your hospitality, but it seems I’ve actually found a job, and it's time for me to-"

"You haven’t," Nova said, her voice smooth but chilling as she stepped closer, her face half-hidden in the shadows. "Don’t lie. I despise liars."

"Nova, I’ve had enough of this. I’m sorry, but living here is overwhelming with all the bizarre restrictions, the eerie silence, and the lack of contact with anyone! I can’t stay here. I need to go out and find a job! I didn’t come here to live permanently."

"And you think you have a say in that, cousin?"

"Wha-" Before you could finish, a cloth soaked in a strong, suffocating chemical was pressed against your face. The world around you blurred and faded as you struggled to breathe, slipping into unconsciousness.

"You are not going anywhere, Duif." (dove, in Dutch)

You woke up to the unsettling sound of floorboards creaking and the ominous clinking of metal against metal. Your body felt unnervingly cold, and you soon realized you were bound to a chair with ropes.

"Awake, (Y/N)?" Nova's voice, as smooth and chilling as velvet, made your blood run cold. You shivered uncontrollably as you saw her standing a few feet away. Robyn was in another corner, methodically sharpening a row of gleaming knives.

God, no. This can't be happening...

"Please... Nova, what is happening?! THIS ISN'T FUNNY! Please!" You didn’t care that you were pleading and sobbing in front of this lunatic. Fear clutched at your heart, twisting it painfully. You regretted everything that had led you to this point. You’d already lost your parents, your partner, your job--was your life now slipping through your fingers as well?

"Shush. Don't be scared. I just want you to listen to me. And carefully." Nova said as she grabbed a stool and sat in front of you. Where are we even? Is this some hidden room? Your eyes darted around frantically, taking in the grim surroundings, chains hanging from the bloody walls, a nailed coffin standing ominously in the corner, a table cluttered with various torture tools that Robyn stood beside, and, bizarrely, a fucking jacuzzi in the corner.

"Listen, it's time I tell you the things you need to know. About me, this family and even yours. You see (Y/N), my father, Ralph Salem, he wasn't a good man. He was involved in all types of bad things. Especially regarding...women. I was a teen when I found out he was involved in trafficking girls, the reason he fucked around with lots of women and... young girls, simultaneously abusing my mother mentally and physically. When he caught her leaving with me, he killed her... in front of me. Imagine that, I couldn't do anything." She paused with a dry scoff, "You have seen that pillar right? The devil buried her under it. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to die but he kept me alive because I was his heir, with his fucking disgusting blood inside of me. So I waited, I became the perfect heir for him only so that I could kill him in the most brutal way...which I did," You whimpered at her dark chuckle as she wiped your tears.

"Do you know where you come in?" Nova's voice was icy as she continued. "I began researching you the moment I discovered your existence. I wanted some form of familial love, even after I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone." Abruptly, she rose and moved to Robyn, taking a freshly sharpened knife from her hands.

"Guess what I found? Your parents were my father's business partners at one point. You see these skeletons here?" She gestured to the grim collection. "These are the people I hunt, (Y/N)--the ones my father worked with, those entangled in this... industry. And I continue hunting them. So I did to your parents what I did to all of them. Robyn, show her."

The butler pulled a lever, causing a hidden closet to open. Inside, the bodies of your parents were revealed--half burned, half slashed, with their limbs gone, only torsos-making you scream in horror.

"The bodies at the crime scene weren’t theirs. I used my connections to save them for you--along with another surprise," Nova said, her voice dripping with cold satisfaction as she slid the door open further. There, your partner’s corpse was revealed, grotesquely nailed to the wall like a butterfly, their chest open and hollow, blood eagle...which Nova once told you about. Without warning, you threw up to the side, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You could barely breathe, each gulp of air shallow and shaky, and you felt the world closing in. Please just let this be a nightmare. Wake up (Y/n), wake up!

"Did I mention that I eliminate bad partners too? How could I let them live after what they did to my dear...cousin?" She stepped closer, the knife gleaming in her hand. You shook your head desperately, unable to form coherent words. With a swift motion, she cut the ropes binding you, forcing you to stand. Her gaze was fierce, unyielding.

"You, however , were innocent, unaware of your parent's past. So from now on, you are a Salem. You will live here, as you are meant to." Her gaze darkened. "This is your place, your family. And I won’t have you trying to run away."

You slammed the trunk door shut and turned to Nova, who was meticulously removing her gloves.

"He was quite the noisy one," she remarked with a nod. "Indeed, sestra. Though you did a commendable job tracking him, little nerd. Now, let’s head back. My favourite part awaits in the mansion."

Ah, yes, it was Wednesday--skinning day.

From a software engineer to an assistant to a serial killer cousin with an intriguing butler, you found yourself strangely enthralled by this new life.

‘I want this world to be rid of those like my father, who mirror him in even the slightest way, together with you, my dear cousin.’

(AN: I realised that Nova might have put her own childhood plushies in the reader's room, which tugs my heart😭my baby)

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daistea · 12 hours

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Hi Daistea! You are absolutly THE Mithrun writer! You catch his essence so well

I was wondering if you could write a prequel to "first burn"? I would love to hear more of his thoughts about cultivating his desire for intimacy and affection with reader

Thank you so much for doing such good for the fandom!

Thank you friend! Here you go, though I kinda just.. rambled with this one. I was just having fun, I hope you like it.

Mithrun x gn Reader

Post-Canon / spoilers maybe

word count: 2,200

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It wasn’t as if there was a handbook on how to cultivate desires. It wasn’t as if ‘normal’ people understood and recognized the process of desire. It wasn’t as if Mithrun had any clue what he was doing.

That, in and of itself, felt like a swaying tightrope he was only barely balancing on. Atop that, discomfort was a new concept. The end result was only more stark, suffocating discomfort. Mithrun usually knew what to do; if he ever had to figure something out, the solution came quickly, effortlessly. He was beginning to think he’d been spoiled in that area. Having such unfettered focus lended itself to problem solving.

Mithrun watched you. Perhaps he could be the one to write the handbook on desire. And there’d be an entire chapter dedicated to you. Was it possible to have a desire for desire? He supposed as much. He was stuck on the outer rims of the feeling, staring through a dusty window at what could be if only he could be. He was a planet stuck in the farthest orbit from the sun, and it was cold, and nobody really saw him there in the sky because he was so damn far away.

You ran your fingers through your hair. His attention snapped back to you like a taut rubber band. There must be a footnote in the handbook on cultivating desires about your small habits. You fidgeted, you shifted, your smile twisted into different shapes depending on your mood and every one of these habits must be footnoted.

Mithrun couldn’t help but make a grimace. He rested his chin in his palm and tore his gaze away, instead following the lines of the wooden panels in the wall of the restaurant. The handbook was going to be long— Gods, he wasn’t going to write it, he didn’t care enough to put in the effort. Nevertheless, one of the jagged lines in the wood paneling unlocked something within his brain. The very fact that he relentlessly took note of your every minute detail said something.

What did it say? Mithrun moved onto the next line in the wood. It gave him nothing. What did it say, Mithrun? What was the implication? It isn’t a hard question, Mithrun. Just answer. Just say it. Just—

He clenched his fist. He clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white. You were still chatting away with the restaurant owner and he had half a mind to grab you by the waist and teleport you elsewhere, a place where you’d only pay attention to him. Only him. Perhaps that would answer the devastatingly easy implications that confounded him.

A wandering part of his mind, a traveler— which was a new feature: wandering— brought forth a query. What would you say about his inner turmoil? Most likely something along the lines of ‘I’m proud of you for trying, don’t pressure yourself so much.’ And he would ignore your words entirely because Mithrun wanted to want.

He must do something. There was that objective knowledge of what the situation required, it wasn’t exactly desire, but it was motivating. You deserved more. You deserved to have your hand held. You deserved kisses on your neck. You deserved gasps and moans and weak knees. He imagined the scene; you, beneath him, or in his lap, perhaps. You, closing your eyes, brows furrowed, whimpering as you sunk down and…

Nothing. Mithrun knew he was making some sort of face, because a half-foot scurried past his table with wide eyes. Whatever.

Enough, he decided. It had been forty years since he had experienced any form of physical intimacy. While some feelings were more difficult to connect with, frustration was one of the easiest to identify. He’d had enough.

Without a word to you— he probably should’ve given you a word, but he was in a hurry— Mithrun called upon his mana, the lingering spirits, and clenched his fist. A fourth of a second passed, a blink of an eye. He didn’t mean to end up on the kitchen floor of his apartment, but fine. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but you.

Mithrun sighed and laid back. The tile was cool on the exposed skin of his hands as he stretched out his limbs. There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceilings. He could already feel a dull headache coming on from the hardness of the floor. Okay.

Routine: eyes closed, deep breaths, sinking into the floor and smelling the air and hearing the sounds. His kitchen smelled like soap. The sounds were absent. Images of you flickered through his mind, a rope gently tied around his body, pulling him deeper into the warm flood-waters. He imagined your arms, your waist, your thighs, your lips, your eyes, your laugh, your gasps, your stare, your hair, your hands, your knees, your chest, your stomach. Then, running his hands up your waist. Holding you. How would you feel with your body against his? How would your hand fit with his?

For a moment, Mithrun felt his heart pull and twist. Objectively, that was the physical reaction to adrenaline hormones in one’s body; anxiety. Yet, he didn’t believe he was anxious. He took a moment to wrack his brain, and the process of doing so always reminded him of the file room in the old Canaries headquarters. Papers would flip across his thumb as he searched for the right information. All he needed was a glimpse of the right set of letters, the right combination of words, until he found what he needed.

For an elf, forty-ish years wasn’t too long. Mithrun had spent the majority of his life as an entirely different person— may he rest in agony. He sometimes looked back on memories in order to identify a feeling. Past Mithrun would feel that pull and twist when Lord Kerensil made those snide comments about Mithrun’s biological father. That twist and pull was always present when Obrin idly, innocently, mentioned an investment deal he’d been allowed to participate in, as the heir to the House of Kerensil. That twist and pull was present when he saw Sultha send Obrin those wry smiles, how her lips twisted in a way that made Mithrun sick to his stomach.

To even dare associate that feeling with you brought the same nausea.

Yet, perhaps it wasn’t about you.

Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was the self-loathing. He’d always carried it like a disease, though the symptoms only appeared in certain moments. Lately, though, he’d been sick with it more often than not. The happiness of a new purpose was parallel to the newfound connection with his more negative emotions. Mithrun supposed that it was person-hood; anger, sadness, joy, attraction, deep and intense adoration that made him physically ill when he meditated for too long about how he couldn’t quite feel the allure of a kiss.

That was his person-hood. Mithrun’s life was a constant struggle, and the kitchen floor felt abnormally cold that evening.

Kabru suggested that Mithrun keep track of new developments. It would help him, Kabru said. Mithrun had no protests nor interest in the theory, but nothing better to do, so he had a journal. Thus far, only one page in the journal had been filled. It said:

Cheese is alright, preferably on bread

Very exciting, at least for some— you and Kabru, particularly. Mithrun had a preference! Despite your excitement, you still put up your hands and waved them as if to ward off the positivity, “You’ve always had preferences, you know. It was just easy to overlook them.”

Mithrun supposed you were right. He had plenty to complain about. That was preference-based, in a way. Obsession over the demon was such a large issue, though, that it left no room for anything else. It was like a flood, seeping into every corner, taking every inch, leaving nothing untouched and dry.

The second item in the journal was:

Black coffee, two sugars

That was how he used to drink it. Some things never changed. Even if the timing was different throughout the year, the sun would always rise and set.

Desiring some sort of physical contact involving hands (with [name] specifically)

And when Mithrun desired something, he would have it. Inevitable. He knew from an objective standpoint that carrying on with that view would only lead to disappointment, but the desire to change did not arise.

Mithrun began taking your hand whenever the opportunity presented itself.

The first time, you glanced at him. Your lips were parted and your eyes the slightest bit wider. You looked down at your intertwined fingers. Mithrun did not dare look away from your face as you studied how each finger fit together like pieces of a puzzle— designed specifically for each other.

When you turned your head back to the person you were originally speaking to and resumed your conversation, satisfaction like a warm blanket settled over Mithrun’s shoulders and chest. He may have looked a bit smug without realizing it, for your conversation partner sent him a look.

The palm is more sensitive than I remember. I think it would be okay to use it.

Mithrun pressed the palm of his hand against the small of your back. You had no reaction. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that you accepted his touch so readily, or displeased that he saw no acknowledgement. He settled for some in-between feeling that even Past Mithrun could not identify.

Without putting it into certain words, Mithrun had an idea of why his skin felt so sensitive to your touch. For one, he’d gone so long without physical touch that his nerves were desert dwellers encountering an oasis for the first time. Secondly, it was the broadest part of the hand. The fingers were important, of course, they wrapped and they clutched and they stroked. Yet, the palm was deeper. It was taken for granted. Everybody in possession of fingers used them every day of their life. They were mundane, almost. The palm, though, was for cradling. The palm was for tracing. The palm was—

Mithrun lifted your hand without a second thought. He’d nearly forgotten what shame felt like, it was another one of those objective feelings that he could identify in others but not quite connect with. Shame was not present at that moment, and he was pleased for that fact. If he had shame, then he would not experience the feeling of your palm against his lips.

He held your wrist with both hands. Your skin smelled like soap, and it was not exactly soft. There were lines and ridges on the palm, but he took a moment to memorize the shape of each one against his lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot between your thumb and index finger.

Your conversation partner looked away. You looked at Mithrun. He looked at you, his good eye fluttering open and taking in the sight of your expectancy and surprise and fondness and embarrassment.

Three seconds passed. Mithrun knew it was three seconds that passed because he counted. One, pause. Two, pause. Three, pause.

You swallowed and looked back at the person you’d been speaking to. Mithrun knew them, but didn’t care enough to allow his brain to make that connection between their face and his memories. His gaze was solely on you. Your profile was silhouetted against the orange sunset of Melini.

“Anyway, what were you saying?” You asked the person Mithrun didn’t care to identify— because you were the newest flood. You spread in a similar manner, filling up every inch and leaving nothing dry. Something in the back of his mind told him that that wasn’t healthy. Where there was a flood, there was mold and rot and destruction.

Whatever.

“The state of Melini,” your conversation partner said, “it’s really becoming a nation now.”

You nodded, “It’ll take time, but we’ll get there.”

That was such a generic statement, but you believed it. Perhaps the commonplace quality of the statement was what made it less feasible. Yet, when coming from your lips, Mithrun could almost imagine it.

Your lips. You said the most wonderful things, even when they were totally common and quotidian. You could tell Mithrun that the sun had exploded, and despite the clear existence of the sun in the sky at that very moment, he’d agree with you simply to see you satisfied.

The desire to kiss you hit Mithrun like a slap to the face— no, actually, Past Mithrun had been slapped several times before, and he always knew it was coming. The desire to kiss you hit him like the taste of cheese on toasted bread, like the pleasure of a black coffee with two sugars, like the shiver down his spine when your palm pressed against his.

And finally, the handbook of desire was written. There were no words. It didn’t need words.

He desired you.

What even was attraction? What even was happiness and anger and desire? It was so subjective that the answer would never satisfy the inquirer. And Mithrun was tired of dissatisfaction.

And it was time to act.

And it was time to open the gates.

And it was time to drown in desires he’d never let himself acknowledge.

Start slowly. Whatever happens, happens. You can want now.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

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