#and they hide behind phrases like “just a girl” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wegc · 11 months ago

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PERV!BANG CHAN HEADCANONS

PAIRING: BANG CHAN X FEMALE READER

WARNINGS: nsfw (mdni), perversion, corruption kink, breeding kink, possessiveness, masturbation, cum tributing, watching, suggestions of blowjobs, dubcon (?), best friends brother!chan, swearing

PERV!CHAN who’s best friends with your brother and beats himself up at night, cursing at whatever entity for tempting him to think about you—his best friend's sister—who’s explicitly off limits.

PERV!CHAN who’s so endearingly shy and giggly around you, continually protecting you when your brother isn't around, hiding his lewd thoughts behind his kind exterior.

PERV!CHAN who refuses to look you in the eye the first time he jerked off to the thought of you stuffed full of his cock.

PERV!CHAN who tells your brother he’s going to the washroom and takes his sweet time walking there, not before peeking through your slightly open bedroom door—discovering you lying on your stomach innocently—and palming his growing cock at the sight of your tight cotton shorts that annoyingly accentuated the curve of your ass and the shape of your puffy cunt. Were you even wearing underwear?

PERV!CHAN who could never act upon his desires—who forbids himself from getting too close at the risk of hurting or corrupting you. You’re not for him—you’re delicate and the quintessence of purity—and it would be a sin, he would positively go to hell if his hand even grazed you the wrong way. Every touch meant something more to him.

PERV!CHAN who feels his self-control crumbling when you stroll out of the shower towel-clad, the soft white fabric daring to slip from your body, which was glistening enticingly with droplets of water from your previous activities. He’s fucked. If he tugged on the towel right then and there, he’d see everything, wouldn’t he?

PERV!CHAN whose guilt consumes him when he’s incapable of getting off without thinking of you. He’s tried porn—even porn of people that look just like you—but it doesn’t suffice. He needs you. So, begrudgingly, feeling the pit of his stomach swarm with anxiety and cringing in self-disgust, he searches your name on Instagram, knowing that you’re the only one to relieve him of his need.

PERV!CHAN who feels his mind go numb as he strokes his leaking cock to photos of you beaming, looking simply tantalizing in your tiny skirt—his favourite skirt. He wants to take his time masturbating to you, but how can he resist when his mind is corrupted with depraved thoughts of bending you in unthinkable positions, hearing your begs and whines for him to go harder; for him to claim you; for him to breed your tight little cunt until his cum oozes out of your abused hole. You’d have the greediest cunt, wouldn’t you? You’d take him so well, he knows you would. You’d be so good for him. His good little girl.

PERV!CHAN who feels his mind break and his cheeks flush every time you teasingly touch him, your soft hands squeezing and groping his tense forearms and muscles, your alluring voice purring hushed praises in his ears—phrases that sound way more suggestive than you possibly imply, right? You’re so big, Chan. God—you’re so strong. I’m so weak compared to you. You could ruin me, Channie.

PERV!CHAN who curses to himself and looks away, clenching his jaw and inhaling sharply every time you look up at him with puppy-dog eyes. He feels himself grow insane at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and the pretty little pout fixed on your lips. Would your face scrunch up like this if he stretched you out with his cock? He tries his best to ignore the very possible reality that this is what you’d look like on your knees for him. Would your hands paw his thighs? Would you open your mouth, tongue timidly peeking out for a taste of his cum? What would your face look like stained and tainted with his seed? Would you like it? Would you smile up at him? Would you beg for more? God, he’d give it to you.

PERV!CHAN who lends you his hoodie when you accompany him and your brother on a late-night beach trip, gulping as he takes in the sight of his clothes swallowing you whole, the cute buds of your breasts poking through the thick fabric.

PERV!CHAN whose cock aches at the delicious smell of your body and the sweet, floral scent of your perfume after his hoodie is returned to him the next day. He refuses to wash it, wanting to preserve the scent for as long as he possibly can. Because when he closes his eyes and presses his nose in the soft black fabric, all while jerking off his dripping cock in fast, hastened strokes, it feels like you’re right there; it’s the closest thing he has to real life.

PERV!CHAN who becomes irritable when the scent on his hoodie fades away, and against his better judgement, walks into your family washroom only to immediately open the bottom cabinet in pursuit of your laundry basket, where he steals a pair of your dirty panties. Of course, he jerked one out in the washroom, knowing all too well you were a room away. It makes it better—helps him cum faster. What if you walked in? What if you saw the way he smelled your musk before pushing the fabric in his mouth, letting out muffled groans at the sheer taste of you? God, he’s disgusting. Did you cum in these while touching yourself? Maybe you dry-humped against your pillow. Who were you thinking of? Fuck—he hopes it’s him.

PERV!CHAN who prints a photograph of you one day—a full body shot of you smiling toward the camera, your white sundress short enough to reveal the plush flesh of your thighs—his favourite photo. He’s especially desperate now after tasting you. He’s careful with the panties and only uses them for special occasions—what if he wants a taste again? He’d wrap the panties around his sore, chubby cock, stroking himself furiously to the picture, seizing the opportunity to slap his dick against the photo of you. It’s a laminate photo and laminate for one sole purpose. All too quickly, he cums in thick, white spurts, landing on the photo of your face and thighs—all over you. Snapping a quick photo, he jerks himself off again, and again, and again, until it’s thoroughly covered in his warm seed. He would do it a million times in real life if you’d just asked. Once he’s done, he wipes the photo clean with tissue paper and carefully places it at the bottom of his drawer for later use.

PERV!CHAN who heads to your washroom to jerk off to another pair of your panties at four o'clock in the morning during a sleepover with your brother, where thoughts of you sleeping soundly a room away plague and tempt him beyond belief. Instead of stealing this pair, he puts it back in your laundry basket, soiled and contaminated with his cum. You’ll just wash it, and he’ll have to live forever with the remorse of you wearing underwear that unbeknownst to you, Chan violated. It isn’t until weeks later when your brother hosts a pool party, that Chan chokes on his drink at the sight of you wearing the same panties he came in. It was part of a swimsuit—you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Feeling his bulge grow in his swim trunks, he gulps down his drink and races to the washroom to relieve himself. He can’t last like this. You have no fucking idea. No fucking idea that your brother's best friend—the second guy you wholeheartedly trusted after your brother, the first guy who swore to protect you if your brother weren’t around—came all over the fabric pressed right against your sweet, untouched cunt.

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ꩜⋆ hi, my name is iris hehe, can you tell i’m obsessed with channie’s guilt complex. he’s the sanest perv! anyways, if you liked this, check out my other work, i have more coming! i write for stray kids only and am a mostly nsfw blog. if you plan on following me, please note that my blog is 18+. i hope you guys like this ! feel free to give feedback and reveal your thoughts in my inbox <3

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knoxic · 3 months ago

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Teasing and Loving

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: smut, Eris being a simp, smut, emotional talk, smut

wc: 2,8k

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, trying for a baby (hinted at), oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, no beta

a/n: technically it was part of the How to be a High Lady series but it works better as a one shot imo

"Love?" Eris called out to her, pushing her office door far enough to fit his head in, at her nod he let himself in, closing the door behind him. "A letter arrived from Winter." He gently set the letter on her table, away from the other papers scattered around the place.

"Oh, what did they want?" She looked up from the book she was studying, catching the amused grin he tried to hide.

"I don't know, it's for you." He slid the letter closer to her as if to make a point.

"Ah, I'm still getting used to receiving letters like this..." She felt slightly embarrassed but brushed it off, she closed the book carefully and placed it aside before picking up the letter. Eris had made his way around her table and was leaning against it by her side, watching her every move.

"Hello, fellow High Lady! I was hoping we could spend some girl's time together, perhaps while our males discuss some court business, let them handle all the work for a while, now that we are allies, they ought to be friends too. So, what do you say? We could meet here in Winter and I could show you the wonders we have, or, you could show me what Autumn has been hiding all these years, Kal and I have always wanted to visit Autumn, the few hours we get to spend there for the meetings do not do it justice, that I'm sure of.

Eagerly waiting for your response,

Your fellow High Lady, Viviane."

"Viviane is asking if I want to spend some 'girl's time' with her," she giggled, "And I think Kallias finally crowned her High Lady." She showed Eris the letter, pointing to the first and last phrases.

"About time," Eris uttered, "Was starting to think he didn't have it in him."

"Eris." She gave him a pointed look. Sometimes his old self would come up, a natural response, they were both working on it.

"Habit, sorry." He smiled at her, faking innocence but quickly erupted into laughter, making her join him. It was so weird for him not having to insult someone at any opportunity encountered, that when he did, out of nowhere, it was funny.

"You're so stupid." She said, stomach cramping from how hard she was laughing.

"Darling, you marry this stupid, deal with it." Eris sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair trying to compose himself. "So, will you?"

"Yes, it's been way too long since I've had a girl's time." She started searching for some paper so she could write back to Viviane.

"Not to sound insecure or anything but... what exactly do you females do on your 'girl's time'?"

"Just girly things, males and our sex life, you know," she responded nonchalantly, "Last time I had one, one of my friends had even reenacted some scenes..." Eris' face at that moment was something she'd paid to see again. His eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head, his cheeks flushed redder than she'd ever seen before, his mouth was hanging open and he looked like a fish when he trying to talk.

"Relax, Eris! I'm just joking." She laughed, her belly protesting. She saw through watery eyes the moment Eris regained his composure, his smirk gave her a hint that they had a long night ahead.

Two big hands pulled her body up, making her squeal and laugh even harder. Eris picked her up and turned them both so he was now sitting on her chair, his lips kissed her neck while his hands found the ticklish spots around her body.

"You think you can fuck with me and not be punished for it, little witch?" His voice was rough with lust, her laughter died down and turned into soft moans.

"Careful, I might reenact what you'll do next with Viviane..." A hand smacked her cheek, the warm feeling of the scalding fire that ran through his veins made her shiver with goosebumps, the whisper of his slender fingers running up her spine only making her tremble harder. The effect Eris had on her was insane.

"Don't you dare. Not the time to play, love." He bit her shoulder. She nodded, knowing Eris wouldn't actually be mad at her for misbehaving, but he would be stressed, and while he'd never act like his father, an stressed Eris was more sad than anything, and she hated that. He was done being used and beaten, the stress he endured all these centuries was enough to mess with his head so hard that now he could barely bear feeling stressed.

She nodded against his neck, kissing and nuzzling his shoulder. In response, he tugged her closer to him, his fingers finally working on the buttons of her dress, pulling apart and setting her down on her desk to take their clothes off.

When Eris was done unbuttoning his shirt, her hands found his muscular chest, pushing him back, signaling for him to sit. She quickly got down on her knees, Eris purposely slipped the fabric of her dress where her knees would meet the floor, making sure they wouldn't hurt so much. Her fingers worked on the strings of his trousers, when they slipped inside the waistband, Eris lifted his hips for her to slip them out, his briefs following suit, during their undressing, Eris had also taken his boots off.

Her hands danced around his torso and tights, lightly scratching his skin, her fingers followed his happy trail before touching his cock, squeezing him the way he liked while running her hand up and down. His warm fingers caressed her arms, encouraging her to keep the pace.

After he was completely hard, she started licking his tip, running her tongue against the underside, slowly going down and licking the whole expanse of his member. His quiet sights and humming making her skin tingle, leaning away from him she admired her artwork, the way his skin was redder in certain spots, his breath was ragged even with so little action, his eyelids almost fully closed and his hair the same messy hair she saw at home. His vulnerability came with a messy version of Eris that would make anyone question if it was really him, his usually perfect styled hair seemed to have never seen a hairbrush, his enviable posture sometimes slumpy.

"Don't stop..." He whined, his head lolled from one side to another.

Taking pity on him, she brought her mouth back down, taking as much of him as she could, bobbing her head slowly, taking him deeper everytime she went down until her nose was pressed against him.

"Gods... What did I do to deserve you?" Eris mumbled, when she looked up, his eyes were fully closed and his mouth had formed a pleased smile.

Eris wasn't really into blowjobs, at least not like the other males she knew, he'd never refuse it of course, but he wasn't one to ask for it. She never asked and Eris never said anything, but she had an inkling that it might have something to do with his father, the way he viewed and treated females, Eris was bound to have heard and, perhaps, seen some disgusting things.

Her mate's hand gently cradled her head, not moving her, just holding. His hips twitched every time her mouth fully enveloped him, she noticed how much effort he was putting into not thrusting up.

"You can fuck my mouth if you want." Her voice was raspy and breathless when she spoke, immediately going back to sucking on him, paying special attention to his tip. His eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain, mouth opened in a silent moan, the muscular thighs under her finger tensed. Suddenly Eris was pushing her head away and yanking her up into his lap.

"For someone who claims to hate teasing, you're doing it way too well, sweetheart." His hands slipped through her hair until he had a good hold of the back of her head, he pushed her closer to his mouth, just enough that she could touch him if she stuck her tongue out, when she tried to lean in for a kiss, he pulled at her hair. He laughed at her pout and gave a mocking peck to her bottom lip, a mere brush that could never be called a kiss.

"You're mean, you know that?" She pushed at his chest, not exactly trying to push him away, all her strength went to keeping her smile at bay.

"But my love... someone needs to take that seriousness off your pretty face."

"You just say that because you can't be serious around me, I smell envy..." She sniffled jokingly, the only scent that filled her nose was arousal, the musk smell of Eris and the slick coating her thighs.

Eris giggled, throwing his head back, one of his hands left her waist to rest at his abdomen, his body convulsing with soft laughter. None of the males she met before laughed like that, in fact, she wasn't sure if they ever truly laughed. Eris, despite his upbringing, knew how to have a good laugh.

"Oh Gods... I couldn't have asked for a better mate." His head was still thrown back, if the sight of his body slumped in her chair didn't say anything, his relaxed smile sure did. "Kiss me." The hand that remained on her waist ran up to her cheek, "Kiss me." He repeated, bringing her head closer. "Drown me with the taste of you." Their tongues danced. "Make me forget how to breathe without your hands on me." Her hips lifted enough to take him inside her warm cunt, the feeling making them both groan. "My body is yours, my soul is yours, my heart is yours, take my mind too. My every thought is yours, everything I think is formulated with your face in my mind, everything I plan is thinking of you and us, our future, our family..."

Their heartbeats synchronized, their mouths dancing, the rhythm of her hips rocking their bodies, their chests collided with rapid breaths, hands here and there squeezing and feeling. "Eris–"

"Yes! Yes, yes, please!" His hands went back to her hips, helping her bounce on top of him, her head dropped to his shoulder, nodding.

Eris gasped, as pleasure threatened to push him off the edge, he braced an arm on her waist and lifted himself off her chair, his unoccupied hand pushed the paper off the desk, he'll help reorganize them later. Feeling the kisses she planted on his neck, combined with her sigh of pleasure when he slipped her down his cock, almost made his knees buckle.

He set her down onto the desk, curving an arm under her head, giving her time to adjust to the new position before he started to thrust, his forehead resting on hers, their breaths fanning each others faces.

Her hands ran the whole expanse of Eris' back, encouraging him to thrust into her, each snap of his hip against hers threatening to push her off the desk, the arm he slung under her head being the only thing keeping her from doing so. The intensity of having sex with Eris never failed to amaze her, she wasn't sure if it was because he was her mate, or if it was really just in his nature to be intense, probably both. Due his accidental edging, Eris already felt close to cuming, the fact that she kept squeezing him didn't help, he was sure she was doing it on purpose, brat, he really taught her well. He couldn't stop his hips from stuttering so he just stopped, resting his cock fully inside her, his head dropping to her chest to suck on her perky nipples, trying to pretend it was all in purpose, unfortunately for him, it didn't foul her. Her soft giggles filled his ears, both her hands moving to his head, running her fingers through his wild red hair.

"Have I already told you I love your messy hair?"

Eris pulled back from her breast to look at her, a expressionof shock on his face before a breath burst out of him, "My hair is not messy, love." He answered while giggling, thinking she was joking. She only rolled her eyes in response, moving her hips against his, Eris' mouth feel open, his eyes slammed shut.

"Close already?" She smiled up at him, knowing too well the effect she had on him. Her legs moved so she had a firm grip of him, now being able to move her hips better, squeezing his cock whenever he was pushed deep inside her.

"Keep doing that–" His words were cut off by a groan, "And I'll cum before you." Eris' whole body trembled.

"It's okay." She pulled his head closer to hers, nuzzling his nose before initiating a kiss. She doubled her efforts to make him cum, moving her hips harder and faster, licking into his mouth like an starved female.

Eris groaned, his body tensed, his knees buckled, his arms gave up and he fell fully against her, she could feel his thighs shaking and a hot liquid filling her cunt. She felt every spurt of cum, his cock throbbing, the way that even when he was finished he was still hard. As soon as he regained control of his legs, he trusted slowly into her, pushing his cum as deep as he could.

When he came down from his high, Eris pulled back from her mouth, not once had she stopped kissing him, his eyes roamed through her beautiful body, his hands squeezing her breasts and stomach, sliding down until his thumb met her clit, rubbing lazy circles on her, just enough to feel good.

Eris slid his cock off of her slowly, catching the small spurt of cum that came out and pushing it back inside her. After meeting her gaze one last time, he fell to his knees, his mouth placing gentle kisses and nibbles on her plump thighs.

His nose brushed her clit, their scents mingled together filled his nose, his tongue licked her slit like the starved male he was, slurping his own release mixed with her wetness. Her moans drew him insane, she was a quiet female so to know she made those beautiful noises because of him, was maddening. Her hands brushed his hair out of his face, careful fingers touching his pointed ear, making it twitch involuntarily. She felt more than heard her mate's groan, the vibration directly on her clit pushed her off the edge she didn't even know she was treading. Eris didn't stop, the pleasure building up inside her as if she never reached her release at all. His slender fingers pushing through her throbbing slit, curling into a spot inside her that made her see stars, after years of experience, Eris could definitely bring her orgasm after orgasm if he wanted to, and that's what he did. Pushing his fingers as deep as they'd go and pulling them out before she could slip off again, he played with her until he was sure she was too deep in pleasure to hold it back.

When he was done, she could barely feel her own body, still tingling with pleasure and her mind too fogged up. She felt warmth and his scent enveloped her, her cheek pressed into something hard, his heartbeat helped bring her back to herself. Eris' hand brushed her locks behind her ear, caressing her hair mindlessly, he planted kisses where he could reach, head, forehead, eyes, nose, until she stared back at him, eyes still shining as she smiled.

"That was good." She said, voice barely a whisper. Eris hummed in response, smiling back.

He helped her into his shirt, knowing she was too sensitive to wear her dress again. After that they went back to their chambers, still holding one another as they went. All the servants had gone to bed by now, so no one saw their half dressed High Lord and Lady walking through the corridors.

"Are you too tired for a bath?" Eris asked agaisnt her neck, never one to stay away from his mate. "Hungry? I can go make us something." He brushed her jawline with his nose, arms tightly holding her against him.

"Not too tired, and kind of hungry but I'd rather have you here with me." She answered with her eyes closed, bathing in the affection he poured on her.

"I'll draw us a bath, and then we'll go eat something." It was natural for them, so many times had Eris gone to visit her in the middle of the night with an empty stomach, right after finishing all of his work for the day. It only got worse when he became High Lord, so many things to be fixed that the only moment they got to themselves was at night, when Prythian was asleep.

Taglist: @callsigns-haze , @lilah-asteria , @mybestfriendmademe , @coldmermaidhologram , @rcarbo1 , @andreperez11 , @st4r-girl-official , @tenshis-cake , @pirana10 , @esposadomd lmk if you want to be added/removed

A/n²: I accidentally wrote "you can duck my mouth if you want"... and when I read it midway through the smut it was... cringe, I stopped writing. had to go feed the ducks

#eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris smut #eris vanserra smut #acotar smut #acotar #eris acotar #eris fanfic #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 9 months ago

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03 / 303 words

"Hey, Gaz. Looking good."

He side-eyes you and your teasing little mock-salute as you sidle up to him. He's all uniformed up now, but you know what his arms look like under those sleeves. You saw him at the gym that morning. And if he didn't want you to make a big deal out of it, he shouldn't have let you see him. He knows how you are. And if not, you fully intend to remind him.

"Don't flirt with me now." He's blunt. As usual. "I'm working."

"All business, huh?"

"You should be, too. Keep the banter for later. Eyes on the prize."

"My eyes are most definitely on the prize." You grin at him over your own cheesy line.

He rolls his eyes. "We're professionals. Get your mind out of the gutter, yeah?"

"Oh, me? I saw that smirk just now, Gaz. You can't hide it. You like this."

"Rubbish."

"I saw it."

"I'm a professional, and I'll treat you as such, all right? If you want flirting, you'll get flirting. If you want a kiss behind closed doors, you'll get a kiss behind closed doors. But when I'm on the job, all that's going on between us is work. No double entendre. Proper work. That clear?"

Of course all you really hear is the middle bit. You flush and grin wider. "You promise? Okay, boss. Whatever you say."

He rolls his eyes and turns away. "Thank you. Now, are you ready to get dirty?"

"Oh, come on! You phrased it like that on purpose that time. Don't lie."

"Then we're even. Ready?"

"Ready."

"That's a good girl."

He turns away before you can say a goddamn word about that or the little smirk on his lips.

Maybe you'll get him back after the debrief if he doesn't get you first.

...

more Gaz / masterlist tag

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caxde · 8 months ago

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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, you meet his friends, and go on a date to figure this out, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (4.4k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: thank you guys for the support, i think that for a while i'll just do drabbles of this story if requested so enjoy! part1 part2. part4 (they can be read seperatly)

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Both the phrase and your customer service voice came as second nature by now. Practice makes perfect you once heard.

“Hi, yeah… Um, do we know what they want?” The tall boy with floppy hair asked the girl following him, she agreed with a smile and he looked back at you. His face looked familiar, though you had never seen him come here before. “I’d like milk coffee, and uh.. what do you want?” He asked back at the girl, who had been grinning with a smirk that you weren’t quite sure if it was dedicated to you, or it was just a nervous reflex from her.

“I’ll have an iced tea, and a cinnamon bun.” She waited for you to write it down, before she continued, which you’d never admit out loud how frustrating it was, if they knew they were going to order more. “And uh, a large black coffee, with no sweetener and a chocolate milkshake with a… did she like scones or blueberry muffins?” She turned around to the wild haired boy, who had its eyes lost in the horizon. Something in you told you he was trying not to stare, and if you were being honest, you didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

“Muffin.” He muttered, as he scratched his closed eyes.

“Muffin.” She affirmed with a cheery tone.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

You placed the order under your waitress number. Lucky number 17, even if there only were two of you. You prepped the coffees with your usual care, enjoying both the process and the smell that filled the air. Two small plates with a paper napkin under each pastry. You wrote down where they were seated while you waited for the milkshake and the iced tea. You still didn’t dare to make them. You had tried, you just never managed the right balance between ice cream, milk and cocoa powder. You did have fun however with the whipped cream and the chocolate shavings. Mainly because it was an excuse for you to eat the chocolate that you didn’t grate.

The bell above the door rang and your attention turned to it. A wide smile appeared on your previously concentrated face.

It wasn’t strange considering Lua was running down the small entrance corridor so she could meet you, your body already kneeling down at the floor so she could greet you however she decided to.

“Hi dude! I didn’t know you were coming” Your voice got high in unexpected excitement as she hugged you in her particular way. “How are you doing?”

“Happy.” She beamed, her hand hiding her face in her usual shy manner she always had when she was someplace that wasn’t as familiar to her.

“I hope you are, you’re getting a milkshake.” Eddie followed her closely behind, offering his hand for her to take it, she did as soon as she heard the word milkshake. Jumping a bit, knowing that that was an unusual treat.

It clicked in that moment, where you knew that boy from. He was in a lot of the photos Eddie had laying around, some were in frames, some were laying around his coffee table.

Though you knew him as uncle Stevie, you doubted that was his name. And if that really was uncle Stevie, then the girl had to be auntie Rob. It would explain the weird energy they had while ordering, and the grins that they tried to hide.

“Chocolate?” She asked back, her head moved around the both of you, she had to look up now, both of you doing what you didn’t realise you always did. While your feet stayed separated, your bodies always found a way to get closer, your waist pushed forward, his arms did too.

“And a blueberry muffin.” You added, with glee. The contrast between the excitement coming from Lua and the exhausting anticipation coming off from Eddie was comical. He grabbed the skin between his eyes, knowing that this sugar rush was going to tire him out.

“She’s not gonna eat dinner.�� He adds, in a somehow frustrated mumble, as he looks back up at you. “And Wayne made Spaghetti with tomato sauce… And garlic bread…” He was making that exaggerated whining voice he knew made you laugh.

“I can have the leftovers.” He smiled, even if he knew that that was what he originally wanted. Another quiet night with you, Wayne out at work and an exhausted Lua, the promise of some alone time with you.

“Deal.” He tried to mask his excitement, with his usual grin, the upside down smile that curved to the right, where his dimple was, and you just giggled back at him, with a scoff and a playful roll of your eyes.

“Your friends are over there, I’ll bring your stuff in a minute.” He winked as a form to say thank you, he swung his arms so his and Lua’s hands moved in a way that made her smile, as she squirmed as soon as she saw his friends.

“Stevie!” She screamed in midst of laughter, she waved him hi, as she walked to Robin’s feet.

“Hey Lua.” Robin’s enthusiastic way of calling her name won her a high five, which she used to tease Steve. “I got a high five.” She sang her works in a mocking manner, knowing that Stevie would push her shoulder with his, she ducked a bit, the playful manner making Eddie smile.

“Hello to you too.” Eddie teased back, sitting down on a chair, helping Lua get up to the one next to him. He had forgotten to ask you for a booster, but nodded in an attempt to say thank you as he saw you approaching the table, milkshake in one hand, booster in the other.

“I’ll be right back with the rest of your order.” Your customer service voice becomes a bit more informal everytime you lock eyes with him, the stupid pink flush coming to your cheeks as he just smiled, his friends looking at him with a cheeky grin.

“Is that her?” Robin wasted no time, her hands on the table, and body pushed a bit too forward.

“Jesus! We said we were gonna be subtle.” Steve pushed her back into the chair, the softness of his gesture contradicted his harsh inane tone.

“What? She can be the rude one…”

“C’mon Eddie wouldn’t fall for the rude waiter.”

You heard that, and you weren’t sure what to believe. Were you the rude waiter? Did Eddie actually fall for you? And what does that even mean? You decide to act as if you hadn’t noticed, as if it didn’t really matter. You placed everything in front of who asked for it, but that comment was still on the front of your mind. You didn’t think you had been that rude, it was your eight hour of work, and you were leaving soon so you were exhausted, and maybe that had come out as rude, but still, it kind of hurts knowing that someone might think you are. Even worse if that someone is the best friend of the guy you had a stupid crush on.

Then there was the whole fall issue. Had that been just a poor choice of words? Probably. It had to be, because there was no way that Eddie had fallen, not really. Not in the scary four letter feelings. It was soon, way too soon. You hadn't even had an opportunity to go on that date that he had asked you on three weeks ago.

You were decidedly panicking, fidgeting with the blue pen you used to take orders. Your shift came to an end, and even if Eddie kept looking at you, waiting for you to come so he could actually introduce you to his friends, or alternatively he was trying to find a moment where he could stand up and go ask you if you wanted to meet them, he looked back and you weren’t there this time.

You were having a stress relief smoke that you’ll never admit to once he inevitably asks you about. You can’t think about it, you want to go home, have a shower and stop thinking.

So you did.

Eddie was worried about you, but he was a little too preoccupied with the little tornado in front of him. The sugar rush had hit as soon as he stepped into the trailer. She had been playing “the floor is lava”, placing everything and anything on her way so she wouldn’t actually fall. Once she got tired of it, she started playing house with dolls and teddys she had, now scattered around everywhere. She eventually got tired of that and just danced around to music that for once he could choose, until she passed out, the sugar crush came as fast as the rush had.

Quiet for once, Eddie let out a long exhausted breath, before picking her up. He enjoyed picking her up, knowing that the day would come when he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. She was already with her stolen sleepshirt that she begged to put on as soon as they had arrived. So he put her hair up in a small ponytail, and left her to rest on her small bed, in the same room as he slept.

Someday, when he has more money, more security in himself, he would get a nice place. A house with an extra room so someone can come and sleepover. A house that had their own garden, so she can run around without Eddie having to watch over her anxiously, worried that she somehow stumbled over into the woods, or found trash that didn’t belong in a play area for such a small girl.

That was the goal.

The long term one anyway. Right now he focused on cleaning the mess her little sunshine had made. His hair out of the way, he quietly got into it. The cushions, blankets and -previously- folded laundry was out of the way, the toys were sorted, and the remains of her laughter could still be felt on the walls.

Something was missing. And that was you. And the promise that you had made to come over and have dinner.

So the worrying came back.

Doubt invaded his mind. He didn’t want to bother you, maybe you just forgot. Maybe you had fallen asleep. Maybe you had had enough of him.

But for once, he decided to trust his intuition, and if something deep in his gut told him that it wasn’t okay, he trusted it. He had to.

So he checked that Lua was still sleeping soundly, and he rushed to your door. The frown between his eyebrows appeared once again when he realised that your light wasn’t on. He knocked, slowly, not even realising that he was biting his lower lip, or that he was playing with his rings.

The light didn’t come on, but you did.

The faintest trace of runned down mascara was under your eyes. If that didn’t give away the fact you had been crying a bit, your red runny nose did.

A wave of guilt filled him, though he wasn’t sure why or what to do.

Truth be told, it wasn’t his fault, not really. You just had a tendency to overthink it all. And a weakness for words of people you didn’t know.

the mean one had followed you since you had gotten home. It was stupid, and definitely not that big of a deal, but it had bugged you enough that you had a breakdown nonetheless.

Maybe it was just one more thing that had sent you over the edge, that coupled with the fact that you had your insecurities over not feeling enough for him, or his little girl.

“What happened?” His voice came out softer, lower, imploring for an answer.

“Nothing, long day.” Eddie could tell that you were lying through your teeth. And you knew that he knew by the way his body reacted. Arms crossed through his chest in a self-defense movement he still conserved.

“I’m gonna heat up dinner. If you want some you can come.” You couldn’t decode if his tone was regretful or resentful, but his eyes shined with hope that’d you’d come, so you nodded.

“Give me a second?” He mouthed a muted yeah, as he turned around, his feet skipping the ground in a nervous manner.

Maybe they didn’t mean for you to hear it. Maybe it had been a joke that you had the misfortune to hear. But it still stings, so you switch your uniform for something comfier.

Those jean were barely hanging on by a threat, the seam on the inside of your thighs had started to open in some points, and they didn’t fit you as snuggly as they once did, but they were the comfiest they have ever been, and the most comforting ones -oddly enough- so was the black shirt that had been previously splattered with bleach. It didn’t really matter to Eddie, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He was trying not to show his worry, but he wasn’t that good at it. He was quiet, which he never was, and he couldn’t stop playing with his rings.

He sat down on the stool, right in front of you, the kitchen aisle separating you both.

“Okay look...” You broke the silence. His fork clinging on the cold surface makes your attention shift into it. “I had a little cry over some stupid shit, but I’m fine.” You take a sip out of your water, looking back into his questioning eyes.

“You want to talk about it?” Eddie tries to get more information out of you. His expression softer, caring deeply for you.

“It’s stupid. Honestly.” You try to brush it off, playing with your food in a lazy manner with your fork, avoiding his stare. Because you know that if you do look at him, you’d crumble.

“I don’t care, I like listening to you.” His voice was deeper when he was mid bite, but his world made you fold, and you give in.

“I overheard your friends…” You think he might say something, but he just stays quiet, an embarrassed expression on his face. “They said that you fell for ‘the mean one’” You add, drawing air quotes with your fork still in your hand.

“Jesus…” He added in disbelief. His head was buried in the palm of his hands.

“I know it’s dumb I just… I told you I don’t know how to go around this whole thing and your friends saying that it's just-” He cut you off, even if he didn’t mean to, he knew you were rumbling when it was all a misunderstanding.

“It’s not dumb it’s just… They weren’t talking about you.” Your eyes widened in embarrassed shame. “They were saying that they were glad I didn’t fall for the mean one. They’re happy I have a thing for you, and not Brittany.”

“oh”

“Yeah, they like you. I think. And we met up in the café because they wouldn’t agree to babysit Lua so I can go on a date with you if they didn’t meet you first but I didn’t wanna make it a big deal so…”

“oh”

“Yeah…”

The type of silence had changed. He had that dumbfounded, love-sick smile on his face. Your eyes were shining and your cheeks had become red. His hand was caressing yours, the soft touch invading you with a sense of calmness and warmness. Your lips curled upwards, some of your teeth showing.

“So we’re going on a date?”

“Next Friday, if that works for you.”

“It does.”

“Good.” Amusement clear on his tone, his dimples showing as he went back to eating. His hand not letting go of yours. “Now, finish eating.”

“I will, but I need my hand.” He chuckled with you as he slowly pulled away.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Idiot…” You sentenced before going back to eating. His amusement makes you smile deeper.

“Suddup, you like it.”

For once, Eddie let you help clean up in the kitchen.

After the conversation and the quiet dinner it was hard trying to keep away from him. It felt like magnetism.

And he couldn’t keep resisting you for that long. You were cleaning the dishes, whilst he dried them. His waist bumped into yours every so often with the excuse of dancing to the low music, not wanting to wake Lua up.

“This has to be Led’s best song” He mumbled, watching as you silently mouthed the lyrics.

“Their most popular, maybe… Best one? No way.” You shook your head in disbelief that he would say such a thing, hearing him chuckle at your reaction.

“What do you mean? It’s literally rock history! Jimmy Page’s solo has become one of the most famous ones” He tried to fight back with you, as you continued to smile in disagreement. You stopped the water, looking him dead in the eyes, seeing the way his smile only grew fonder, his usual grin present in his face.

“Sure, Stairway to Heaven had like a huge cultural impact and blablabla but c’mon… Dazed and Confused? Immigrant Song? Black Dog? Tangerine? You Shook Me? You want to talk about guitar solos… Achilles Last Stand has some of the most incredible ones” You argued back, he was impressed, but he was not used to losing, even less so when it came to music.

“Achilles Last Stand is a ten minute song, that’s too long…” You chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising as he looked deep into your half closed eyes from your laughter. “What?”

“If you think ten minutes is too much… We’re gonna have a problem.”

He laughed in deep shock from your words, making you giggle a bit more as a reaction. He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just had an impulse and followed through. His arms wrapped around you, pushing you in for a deep hug, your head hitting his chest, as your arms find a way in his waist.

Eddie gave the best hugs, you thought. This being your first one, you were over observant. His fingers were buried deep in your hair, playing with it. His chest was softer than you had expected. And even if his house smelt of sandalwood and the faint smell of the food you had just eaten, he smelt of aftershave, shampoo and a trace of car grease. You closed your eyes, enjoying it all.

Eddie couldn’t resist the urge to kiss the top of your head. Or let his forehead rest on yours, enjoying the closeness he got to experience. He hadn’t been this close to anyone since before Lua came around. And he wasn’t used to this nervousness or excitement, this electricity with the way your breath mixed with his.

You pulled away a bit, close enough to still count his eyelashes if you wanted to, far away enough that nothing else could happen. You had to be careful, you had agreed to be careful until you could figure it out.

“Moon I…”

“I know.” He whispered back, his left hand cupping your cheek, his thumb caressing it slowly.

You heard the small steps coming from Eddie’s room, Lua had woken up and was looking for him.

“Dada?” She sounded half asleep, with a small panic in her voice.

“Coming.” He added, a frustrated look on his face, his tone remaining calm. He kissed your hand before stepping back. “Duty calls. See you friday?”

“Yes, tell Lua I said goodnight? You asked back, finding your way to the front door.

“Definitely. Sweet dreams princes.”

“Night, moon.”

You closed his trailer door as you saw him walking the corridor where his room was, the little night light giving you a little inside to what his room and his usual nights looked like.

You went to bed that night with a lovesick smile on your lips and hoping that Friday came soon enough.

Friday came faster than both of you had anticipated. You got the whole day to yourself, the morning was slow, and Eddie let you sleep for once, they didn’t come over for breakfast. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had missed them, and Lua’s happy mumbling as she ate whatever you had made. Since it was only you, the bowl of cereal had lasted you until lunch, you just picked at it every time you felt hungry, amidst various house chores.

Clothes were cleaned.

Floors were mopped.

Bathroom was shining.

With a clean bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. It had been two months since you met him, and your smile lines had come back. Your hair had become lighter from the sun, and your eyes shone again. You felt pretty, and you couldn’t wipe the lovesick smile out of your lips if you thought of him.

The water was hot, and it helped your body relax. You were starting to get that nervous excitement, before a date. A date with someone you actually (really) like.

When the time came, you crossed the road, knocking gently on his door, your hands playing with the hem of your dress.

Eddie got choked up as soon as he saw you. The black dress hugged you in a way he wished he could, your legs looked longer and he could get lost in them, even if they were hidden under black tights. But he really got lost in your lips, and the red that you layered over them.

“Hi.” Your voice came out shyer that you intended to. But your smile remained the same.

“Hi…” He couldn’t really form a sentence, his words seemed to be stucked in his throat. “You look amazing, jesus…”

“I could say the same.” He shook his head in disbelief, not really believing you.

He stood there in his usual white shirt and leather jacket, though this time his washed out jeans switched for black jeans that hugged his thighs in a way that made your head swing.

“I uh… I’m going to say bye to Lua, then we can leave.” You nodded, and peered inside for a moment.

Lua was playing on his living room floor, Robin and Steve by her side. He kissed her daughter’s cheek and whispered something that you didn’t catch, his friends waved at you, Robin mouthed a silent wow as she gave you a thumbs up that made you giggle on the inside.

The dinner was finished, and you had downed a couple bottles of wine. You ended up walking for a bit, before deciding to put an end to the night, the stars shining bright.

Eddie had done everything right. He had paid the bill, he opened the doors for you and made an effort to get to know you better. His eyes shining with every word that came out of your lips. He was definitely enamored by you, and the same could be said by you. His hand had not let go of yours since you had left the small restaurant.

His thumb played with the back of your hand, sending sparks through your whole body. You played with his rings, which only made him smile more. He told you that it was the only thing he ever bought for himself. Every year when his age changed, he’d get a new one. “Maybe you’ll get me one” You had teased back, which made him chuckle as he nodded.

His van parked behind his house, his fingers still intertwined with yours. You sat on the back of it for a while, looking at the sky in comfortable silence for a bit.

Eddie’s heart was racing, he couldn’t look at anything but you. You and the way your skin looked under the moonlight, you and the way your eyes looked at the moon. You and your red lips that he really wanted to taste.

You noticed.

Your head left his shoulder, so you could look at him. His breathing mixes with yours, your chest moving faster as your breathing quickened. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his trembling hand came up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your lower lip, asking for permission.

You were the one to break the distance.

In a swift movement, your lips pressed against his. Your heart felt at peace once you did. As if something had finally clicked, something was finally right. He smiled through the kiss as it grew deeper. He kissed you as if you were air and he was drowning. He had been dreaming of this since the moment he first saw you. And he finally got to kiss you, as much as he desired to.

Before pulling away, his teeth caught your lower lip. He was smiling like an idiot, his nose touching yours.

“We should…” You tried to be the voice of reason, knowing that you both had work tomorrow and he had someone to take care of on top of that.

“I know I just… I’ve been waiting for this for a while.” He admitted with glee before kissing you again, giggling in between kisses. His hand getting lost in your hair.

“I know.” It didn’t help that your tone came out in a more intimate matter that you intended to, the wine working its magic for the both of you.

“Do you wanna talk about it tomorrow?” He offered, thinking that you would need time to think things over.

“There’s nothing to think.” You admitted, determination in your voice. “This makes sense. If you’re okay with it I… We could try it? Maybe?”

Eddie couldn’t contain his happiness, kissing you senseless until his breath ran out.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“I can call you my girlfriend and everything?” He teased, a stupid grin on his face that drove you crazy, your head shaking as your smile gre big enough that your teeth showed.

“Girlfriend and everything.” You confirmed.

This time you were the one kissing him, your hands lost in his hair, pulling him in a bit more than he had dared to.

He walked you to your door even if nothing could happen to you, and kissed you goodnight for the first time. And his friends teased him and celebrated with him when he walked in with red lipstick on his lips.

He went to bed that night, knowing that things could only get better from now on.

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

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part 3 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

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meazalykov · 5 days ago

Text

platonic?

catarina macario x younger!uswnt!reader

summary: your admiration for the older woman turns into a crush

warnings: three year age gap, long chapter

you are twenty-two lacing up for the next game with chelsea, the weight of the blue jersey settling around you like armor.

this wasn’t new; you’d been doing this since seventeen, since you were a kid at the world cup, barely knowing how to handle all the pressure the world threw at you while winning one of the best trophies a footballer can have.

somehow, you’d found yourself. at the end of 2019 you went on loan to lyon from gotham, ready to prove your talent to the best audience.

you weren’t exactly alone though—there was catarina.

being eighteen when you first met catarina, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, you stepped into the lyon training grounds with the kind of awe you couldn’t hide.

you were on loan, adjusting to life in a new country with a language you barely spoke, and everything felt monumental, as if even the smallest mistakes would echo.

catarina, twenty-one, was already established and calm, someone who seemed to carry the weight of experience with ease– especially for someone who was young herself.

she spotted you from across the pitch during your first training session, a quick flash of recognition in her smile as she walked over, her strides confident and sure.

“hey!!! you’re from new york, right?” she asked, her tone light but curious, that american accent instantly grounding.

“yeah,” you replied, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“just... here for a season, you know?”

she grinned.

“good. i was starting to miss american familiarity here.”

from that moment, a kind of natural mentorship developed between you.

the three-year difference felt both small and huge; it wasn’t just the age, but the way she carried herself, the calm authority of someone who’d already figured a few things out. in frace, you could go with her anywhere. in america, she was allowed to attend the 21+ places while you had to stay behind with the young national teammates in the hotel rooms.

little did you know, catarina knew what it was like to leave home for a career, to adapt, and maybe she saw a bit of herself in you, struggling to find your place.

you noticed the steady way she’d watch you on the field, the way she’d wait until after training to approach, giving pointers with a casual tone that softened the critique.

“you’re trying to force the pass too soon. the forward could never get it without the defender clearing it away,” she’d say once, tossing you the ball after practice as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the blue lyon training kit.

“take a breath, let the play build.”

she’d take the time to show you, positioning you on the field, demonstrating how to look for space, to feel the tempo of the game like it was a second pulse.

“you’ve got great instincts and speed,” she’d say after you’d gotten it right, her voice warm with approval.

“just trust them a bit more.”

it wasn’t only on the field that she guided you. early on, when you stumbled over french phrases at cafes or struggled with the simplest exchanges, she’d be there, patient and amused.

the woman with brazilian ethnicity already knew a few languages. you didn’t, only growing up needing to speak english with very basic levels of spanish.

sitting in a café with catarina, selma, and amandine–you squinted down at the menu, wrestling with a word that looked more intimidating than it probably was.

“i can never get this one,” you muttered, half to yourself, as she leaned over your shoulder with a quiet smile.

“that one’s croque-monsieur,” she said, saying it slowly.

“it’s like fancy– what do you guys call it, grilled cheese?” selma grinned with her strong french accent as you looked at catarina with suspicion.

“she's right. you’ll like it, trust us.”

“croque-mon-seur?” you tried. all of the girls laughed while catarina started shaking her head.

“you’ll get it,” she said, giving you a light nudge.

as weeks turned into months, her presence became something you leaned on without realizing. she’d taken on this mentor role easily, with the kind of warmth that let you feel less alone in a new place.

she taught you bits of french, not only in words but in the quiet encouragement she offered, like the language itself was something you could share.

on the field, you started to shadow her during drills, watching how she played as an attacking mid—the same position as you. you found yourself asking questions, hungry to learn more even with skill abnormal for a youngster.

cata always answered with that patient tone, never making you feel as though you were asking too much.

during national breaks, there's always a different energy. a familiar choas you’ve come to love since being called up in the 2019 world cup.

being back with the uswnt squad feels like stepping visiting old friends– because you are. catarina is steady, and calm. on the national team though, you’re usually the one starting over her, especially as the attacking mid, unlike at lyon due to the amount of caps you have over the woman that's older than you.

she never lets any jealousy slip, always the first to give a pat on the back or a quiet word of praise that lingers more than it probably should.

the locker room screams with excitement before the friendly against portugal, and you’re tying up your signature purple boots, mentally running through the plays.

suddenly, cat is sitting beside you, her familiar grin softening the tension that’s been settling in your shoulders. maybe its her hands resting your shoulders too.

“you look ready to score a hat trick today,” she murmurs, nudging your shoulder.

“don’t push it,” you laugh.

“starting lineup, a vet on the team. you notice how much the coaches and the staff trust you, huh?”

you manage a smile, a bit of heat creeping to your face.

“they’re trusting me to just... you know, not mess it up too bad.”

she scoffs lightly, her hand moving down to rest on your arm.

“y/n, you’re seriously too humble,” she says, voice low and just between the two of you.

“i’ve watched you since i met you in lyon. you have this... confidence, even when you don’t realize it. you don’t just belong here; you are the standard. do you know how insane that is being nineteen years old,” the twenty-two year old rants.

your face feels hot, and you look down, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight blush you can feel creeping up.

“yeah, well, it’s just pre-game stuff, you know? everyone gets this way.”

she tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips.

“sure, if ‘pre-game stuff’ means having every player watching you just to see how it’s done or what to do next.” she moves closer, her voice dropping even lower.

“you’re more than good, y/n. i’d watch you play any day.”

the words linger, carrying a weight you don’t want to examine too closely. she’s always been supportive, always the first to praise you, but somehow her words feel different today, more intense, and it settles in your chest, creating a strange, fluttering warmth you refuse to acknowledge.

“thanks, cat,” you mumble, fiddling with your shin guard.

“i just... i appreciate it. and you know, don’t be too complimentary. i still have to actually do my job out there.”

she laughs, soft and genuine, her hand squeezing your arm before pulling away.

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll be out there to keep you in check if your ego gets too big.”

just as you try to shake off the blush spreading across your cheeks, she leans in, her eyes catching yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “but, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice softer, almost affectionate, “don’t hold back out there.”

you swallow, heart thudding harder than usual.

“i… yeah. yeah, no holding back.”

she smirks, giving you one last, lingering glance before she walks away, leaving you trying to convince yourself that your racing pulse is just the pre-game jitters.

skipping two months later– you were so happy winning the champions league with lyon. you felt as if you were standing at the peak of everything you’d worked toward.

the final whistle echoed in your ears, your teammates’ arms wrapped around you in victory since you delivered a goal and two assists for the 4-2 win.

right there beside you was catarina, her face alight with that mix of joy and pride that only winning a title brings. the two of you had spent a year pushing each other to new limits, and this—this win felt like the culmination of everything.

the celebration was wild, electric, stretching late into the night, but a bittersweet feeling hung in the back of your mind.

you knew what came next: you’d have to return to new york, back to gotham.

a week back in new york, trying to settle back into familiar routines, you still found yourself thinking about lyon, about that feeling of playing on european soil, where the game felt more appreciated.

the stakes somehow higher. you missed the thrill, the challenge, and most of all, you missed catarina’s presence on the field, her constant encouragement, her quiet, steady influence.

and then the call came from chelsea.

it was unexpected, a five-year contract offered by the london club, and the details? promising—more than you’d hoped for. it was an opportunity to stay in europe, to grow in a league you’d admired from afar, and in that instant, the decision felt like a piece of fate falling into place.

chelsea felt right, like the next step, and the choice was almost immediate. within days, you found yourself preparing for a new chapter in london.

it’s 2022, and as you settle into your new life in london, there’s a sense of excitement that only grows with each passing day. the new team, the city, the endless possibilities—it feels fresh, like you’re on the edge of something big.

yet, in quiet moments, you feel a pang of nostalgia for your year in lyon, for the late-night talks with catarina after long training days, the ease of sharing the same field, the bond you’d built.

at chelsea, you built a good bond with all of your teammates. you’ve gotten to be close friends with lauren while having magda as your mentor.

you missed catarina though, you had no idea why. she’d been more than just a teammate—she’d been a friend, a mentor, and you knew that her absence at the club level would be felt deeply.

you remind yourself that national breaks aren’t far off. you’ll see her again soon enough, the familiar red, white, and blue kit would be uniting you once more.

at chelsea, your time quickly became more than just playing football; it felt like finding a new family.

magdalena, with her calm authority and easy smile, became an older sister figure, a presence you leaned on during tough games or even just long training sessions. pernille was right there beside her, offering a comforting mix of humor and insight that kept you grounded.

together, they were like this solid, reassuring pair, and they had a way of making you feel like you belonged.

emma, your coach, saw something in you which is why she wanted you at the club per her request. she pushes you forward and shapes you into a player who could meet the intensity of the league.

her guidance, paired with the steady support of magda and pernille, along with your now bestfriend lauren, helped you grow both on and off the field.

at the end of the 22/23 season, magda and pernille gathered you aside after a practice session, their expressions a bit more serious than usual. magda was the first to speak.

“we wanted you to hear it from us,” she started, giving your arm a light squeeze.

“pernille and i are… we’re leaving chelsea.”

you blinked, trying to process.

“wait, leaving? like… transferring?”

pernille nodded, her smile soft but sad.

“to bayern. it’s… it’s a chance for us to play together in germany, and we felt like this was the right time.”

you felt a pang in your chest, sadness bubbling up because you couldn’t imagine chelsea without them. but you couldn’t hold back a smile either, one that came from genuine happiness for them.

“i’m gonna miss you both,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper,

“but i’m so happy you’re doing this together.”

magda pulled you into a hug, her arms warm and steady around you.

“you’ll always have us, no matter where we go.”

you laughed, hugging them both tightly.

“and i expect updates… lots of them.”

it wasn’t long after they left when lauren walked up to you one morning in the lounge, an unusual grin on her face.

as you were twirling your iced coffee together, making sure the creamer mixed well with the blonde coffee, lauren stops your wrist with a smirk.

“heard the news?” lauren asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“what news?” you replied, eyebrows raised as you sit the paper cup down on the counter.

“your friend catarina is coming to chelsea. emma signed her on for a few seasons.”

you laughed, shaking your head.

“yeah, right, lauren.”

lauren can be a jokster sometimes. however, she crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself.

“seriously. emma wanted her on the team, and cat’s contract with lyon was up. she’ll be here to visit us at training soon.”

the idea sounded impossible, almost surreal. cat, here? with you, at chelsea?

it wasn’t until you saw her stepping onto the training field, a black crossbody bag slung over her shoulder, that it hit you. you froze, hardly believing your eyes until she spotted you, her familiar smile breaking across her face.

before you knew it, you were running toward her, your feet barely touching the ground as you threw yourself into her arms.

“cat!” you exclaimed, nearly breathless.

she laughed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“hey! god, it’s good to see you.”

pulling back, making sure to consider her knee injury, you couldn’t help but grin, words spilling out all at once.

“i can’t believe you’re here! lauren told me, but i thought she was messing with me.”

cat shook her head, her own smile warm and genuine as she holds your waist.

“nope, it’s real. looks like we’re back on the same team.”

just as you opened your mouth to ask about training together, her expression shifted, a slight grimace.

“i know, but with my knee its going to be a while.” she hesitated, glancing down at her knee.

“its alright, you’ll come back stronger!” you smile, your dimples showing as you show catarina around the place before you had to go to training practice.

six months later– it’s 2024. catarina’s first day to light training feels like an event, with the entire team gathered in the gym to show support for her coming back from an acl injury.

everyone’s happy, cheering her on as she settles in for her workout. you stand close by, eyes fixed on her as she picks up the barbell, your attention unwavering. this is a huge step for cat, and you want to be there for her.

as cat positions herself to start her barbell step-ups, sjoeke moves in, hands up, ready to help spot her.

“i got you, cat,” she says with a smile, stepping up beside her.

before you realize it, you’re already speaking, your voice coming out firm, almost a little too quick as you step behind cat beside sjoeke.

“no, it’s fine, sjo. i’ll help her.”

sjoeke pauses, raising an eyebrow at your tone, her smile shifting into something almost skeptical. she looks between you and cat, the air thick with a subtle tension.

“really?” she asks, voice edged with a hint of challenge.

“because i can spot her, y/n.”

“i don’t mind,” you insist, feeling the warmth creep up your neck, realizing how eager you sound.

“i can handle it.”

there’s a beat of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air, and sjoeke’s expression softens, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. her eyes narrow slightly, an amused glint in her gaze as she takes in your stance, the way your attention doesn’t waver from cat.

she puts her hands up, taking a step back with a knowing look.

“alright, y/n. she’s all yours.”

the team’s eyes are on you as you step into place beside catarina, your focus sharpening as you move in to spot her. cat glances up, smiling at you.

“thanks,” she says softly, her eyes warm, trusting.

“anytime,” you murmur, feeling the faintest flicker of nerves as you help steady her. your hands hover near her shoulders, close enough to catch her if needed, your gaze lingering on her face longer than you intended.

she doesn’t seem to notice, focused on her workout, but you can’t help the way your eyes trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders, the way her breath deepens with each step up.

there’s an intimacy in the moment that feels almost palpable, and you struggle to tear your gaze away, as if caught in something you’re not ready to admit to.

from the wall, lauren’s leaning back, watching with a bemused smile as you stay glued to cat’s side, every bit the protective spotter.

when she catches the way you look at cat, something just a bit too intense, she comes over to you after you finish helping cat.

“so,” lauren starts, her voice a low murmur,

“what’s with that look?”

you shoot her a glance, brushing it off.

“what look?”

she raises an eyebrow, grinning.

“you’re looking at her like she’s a piece of cheesecake or some shit?”

“i don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging, trying to keep your tone casual, but lauren isn’t buying it.

“right, you just happened to nearly elbow sjoeke out of the way to help her.” she nudges you, clearly entertained as you walk out of the gym area with lauren following.

“i didn’t know you were so... possessive.”

“i’m just helping a teammate, lauren,” you say, a bit more defensively than you meant.

she laughs, exchanging a look with katie, who’s been watching with a raised eyebrow.

“teammate, huh? well, looks like you’re a really supportive one. maybe you could give me a back massage,”

“gross,” you laugh while rolling your eyes playfully.

you make your way to the lounge, hoping to avoid further questions. as you step in, ashley, mille, and zecira are all sitting together, looking up as lauren walks in behind you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“guys, guess what i just saw,” lauren announces, voice full of laughter.

“y/n practically staking a claim on catarina during training.”

you feel the heat rising to your face, reaching for a protein bar to keep your hands busy.

“lauren, do you ever shut up?” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the room erupts in laughter.

ashley shakes her head, grinning wide.

“i fucking knew it! i knew you had a little thing for cat.”

“please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you open the protein bar.

“you all have overactive imaginations.”

just as you think you might have a chance to let it blow over… sam, who sits on the couch beside mille, finishes her call with her fiance kristie, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

“so, y/n,” she starts, her grin just as playful,

“you gonna do something about this little crush, or what?”

you sigh, taking a bite of the protein bar.

“what crush?”

everyone around you laughs, clearly not fooled, and as much as you try to deny it, you can’t shake the way your heart jumps whenever you’re around cat.

march 2024 arrives and it feels like the start of something new and familiar all at once. it’s game day against leicester city, but there’s an extra pulse of excitement coursing through the chelsea locker room as everyone pulls on their light blue kits.

for you, this game holds a different kind of significance: it’s the first time you’ll be sharing the pitch with catarina since your days at lyon, and though she won’t be starting, just knowing she’s there—back from the injury that’s kept her away from the game she loves—adds a layer of warmth to everything.

you catch her watching you from across the locker room, her gaze dropping from your eyes to linger as you adjust your shirt and tug on your socks. it’s almost enough to make your breath hitch, and it doesn’t help that the kit has a snug fit, a sleek light blue that seems to catch her attention.

her eyes trail up slowly, as if she’s memorizing every detail, and when her gaze meets yours, she looks away with a small, shy smile.

erin, sitting beside her, sees it all and nudges cat in the shoulder with a smirk that says she’s absolutely onto her.

the pre-game energy is high as you head out onto the field, and while you’d usually be in the midfield, today you’re positioned as left-back. the shift feels strange, like wearing a jacket that’s just slightly too big. you tell yourself to adjust, to focus on the rhythm of the game and do your part.

as the whistle blows and the play begins, you find yourself absorbed in the moment, thoughts of cat lingering but pushed to the back as you settle into the role.

in the 38th minute, an opportunity opens. bjorn is making a move toward the box, slipping past defenders, her eyes focused and ready. you’re aware of the ball at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of it as you move up the wing. scanning the field, you find the angle and send a cross sailing toward bjorn, hoping she’ll connect.

she times her jump perfectly, meeting the ball with a header that sends it directly into the net. the crowd erupts, a sea of blue cheering as your teammates swarm bjorn in celebration.

a grin spreads across your face, pride surging as you run back to position, your gaze flicking to the bench where you spot cat clapping, her eyes on you, the corners of her mouth pulled into an admiring smile.

the game presses on, and in the 44th minute, you spot another chance. mayra’s waiting near the edge of the box, finding an opening just wide enough for a clean shot. slipping past the defender, you send the ball right to her feet.

she doesn’t waste a second, taking the shot and sending it straight into the net with a perfect strike. you jump on her back in celebration, happy to give the second assist for a player that is out of position.

it's 2-0 before halftime, and as you jog back, you’re buzzing with the energy of the lead.

the walk to the locker room is filled with celebratory chatter, but as soon as you settle onto the bench, your mind starts to go over every play. being out of position has you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that’s hard to shake.

you sit there, running through every mistake, every step you might have taken wrong, the weight of your own expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

even with the two assists, you’re surprised that no defensive errors you’ve committed ended up with a conceding goal.

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice cat coming up beside you until her hand lands gently on your shoulder, her voice soft and soothing.

“hey,” she murmurs, leaning in slightly so only you can hear.

“you’re doing great out there. seriously, y/n.”

you manage a nod, though your shoulders still feel tense. she must notice, because without a word, she pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels grounding.

the warmth of her hand on your back, tracing gentle circles, starts to ease the tension, her touch a reminder to breathe.

“you’ve got this,” she whispers, her voice steady and close, almost like a secret between the two of you.

“you’re holding it down out there, trust me. emma even said that you’re doing great defensively for someone that's mainly an attacker.”

you let yourself lean into her a little more, savoring the reassurance, her breath warm against your temple. it feels grounding, safe, and for a moment, you don’t want to let go.

there’s something about the way her arms hold you, strong yet gentle, that makes the anxiety ebb away, leaving a warmth that has nothing to do with the game.

just then, sjoeke clears her throat from across the room.

“gross,” she calls out, a playful grin on her face.

“get a room, you two.”

you and cat pull back, laughing, though you feel the heat rush to your face as she lets go, her hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary.

“thanks, cat,” you say softly, offering her a smile.

“anytime,” she replies, her gaze lingering, warm and full of something you can’t quite name.

you head back out for the second half, but she stays on the bench, still recovering, cheering from the sidelines. knowing she’s there, watching, makes you feel a little lighter, your movements sharper, steadier.

it’s the 72nd minute, you’re focused on pushing up the left flank, linking up with your attackers, and keeping your defensive responsibilities in check. your eyes scan the field, watching for openings, and it’s only when you catch lauren jogging toward the sideline and the fourth ref holding up the number board that you realize who’s coming on in her place.

catarina is stepping onto the pitch, and despite your efforts to keep composed, a bright smile tugs at your lips. this is the first time in so long that you’ll be playing together, and for once, you let yourself admit it, if only silently—you have a crush on her.

you turn your attention back to the field, your heart beating a little quicker, that sense of familiarity and excitement building with each touch of the ball.

she’s out here with you now, right where you’ve wanted her to be, and knowing she’s nearby is enough to make you feel even more determined.

in the 78th minute, you get the ball near midfield and start driving up, your pace quickening as you swerve around a few defenders. your feet are light, every movement fluid as you weave through their attempts to block you.

when you reach the edge of the box, you catch sight of cat, her positioning perfect. without a second thought, you use the outside of your foot to send a quick pass in her direction, the ball rolling smoothly toward her.

cat doesn’t hesitate. she meets the ball with a precise kick, sending it past the goalkeeper and straight into the net.

as the crowd erupts, you can’t help the excitement that surges through you. before you know it, you’re running toward her, a wide grin on your face, arms open as you close the distance.

“cat!” you shout, laughter in your voice as you reach her, wrapping her in a hug. her arms come around you instantly, holding you tight, and for a moment, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in the center of the pitch.

“we did it,” she murmurs, her voice soft, just for you to hear.

“that was all you!” you cheer.

you feel her grip on you tighten, and your heart swells as the rest of the team joins in, everyone piling into the group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

the game’s finally over, and the stadium is cheering with the energy of chelsea’s victory. you’ve got a genuine grin on your face, eyes drawn to cat as she makes her way through a string of congratulatory hugs from the team.

she’s radiant, practically glowing in the aftermath of the match, and watching her light up like that stirs something deep within you. but, as thrilled as you are for her, there’s a quiet, nagging feeling creeping up in your chest.

a thought crosses your mind—would she ever really want to be with you? maybe you’re too young, too inexperienced for someone like her. what if she doesn’t even like women? the doubts start stacking up in your mind as you watch her laughing with the others, and it’s impossible to shake the feeling of insecurity as it clouds over your happiness, just for a moment.

emma notices your gaze, the way your smile flickers, and sidles up beside you.

“everything alright?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes knowing.

you hesitate, then decide to be honest.

“i just... i don’t know. it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, but emma doesn’t let it go.

“it doesn’t look like nothing,” she says with a small smile, glancing over at cat.

“you know, it’s pretty obvious on both sides.”

you blink, taken aback.

“both sides?”

emma nods.

“cat likes you too. maybe she doesn’t always show it in the ways you expect, but... it’s there. the entire team can see it.”

her words sink in, warm and reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. what does that mean? do you dare to take it seriously?

before you can ask more, emma steps away, and cat is suddenly in front of you again, grinning and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. the embrace is so close, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels like more than just a friendly gesture.

you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours, and a part of you wishes you could stay like this, here in her arms, forever.

neither of you says anything, and in the quiet of the moment, you’re just holding each other, lost in the feeling. around you, you notice a few chelsea fans snapping pictures, murmurs about a possible new couple, but you don’t even care.

you’re caught up in her warmth, in the closeness, until you finally let go, smiling softly at her.

later, as the team heads off, you invite a few people over to your apartment to relax. most are too tired to celebrate, and honestly, you’re relieved—hosting company sounds exhausting after a long day, and you’re happy enough to have a quiet night to yourself.

you head home, showering and settling into your soft pajamas, the contentment from the day still making you smile.

you’re about to head to bed when a knock at the door catches your attention. curious, you pad over and look through the peephole, only to see cat standing there, hands in her sweatpant pockets, looking slightly unsure.

you quickly unlock and open the door, blinking at her in surprise.

“cat, what are you doing here? it’s almost midnight,” you say, though a grin creeps onto your face.

she shrugs, grinning back.

“you did say you were hosting company, didn’t you?”

you chuckle, stepping aside to let her in.

“okay, you got me. want something to drink? i’ve got water, maybe some juice…”

she watches you as you head to the kitchen, her eyes flicking over you, taking in your comfortable clothes and how your body fits in them.

“water’s fine,” she says, though her gaze lingers a little longer, sending a flutter through your stomach.

you hand her the glass, and as she takes it, you notice her eyes lingering again, tracing over your face, down to your lips, then quickly looking away. the subtle glances have your heartbeat picking up, the room suddenly feeling warmer.

the way she’s looking at you is... different. intense. it’s as if there’s something unspoken between you, simmering beneath the surface.

she catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

caught off guard, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but, with the comfort of your apartment and the courage you feel just from being around her, you answer truthfully.

“because... you look beautiful,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words leave your lips before you even fully realize it, but you don’t regret them.

cat’s eyes widen, her smile softening. she sets down her glass, then takes a step closer, so close that you can feel her warmth radiating. without another word, she reaches for you, pulling you down onto the couch and gently guiding you to sit on her lap.

you can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto your face as you settle, feeling her hands resting on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“what are we doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet, curiosity sparking with a mix of nerves and excitement.

cat’s hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb tracing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t know... what do you want us to be?” she murmurs, her gaze intense, searching yours for a hint of what you’re feeling.

you swallow, feeling a rush of confidence at her words, the encouragement in her tone. your eyes flick to her lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you ask,

“can i kiss you?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just leans forward, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. her hand settles on your hip, gentle but possessive, grounding you as you melt into her.

when you pull back slightly, your heart pounding, you manage a small smile, feeling braver than before.

“will you... will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper, barely able to contain the hope in your voice.

her answering smile is warm and bright, and without a moment’s hesitation, she pulls you back into her embrace, her lips finding yours once more.

“absolutely.”

masterlist

#catarina macario #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #chelsea women #uswnt players #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #lauren james #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #sam kerr #millie bright #chelsea fcw #guro reiten #erin cuthbert

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withleeknow · 2 months ago

Text

wishful thinking. (7.5)

chapter 7.5: limbo

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; minho's pov; non-explicit smut, kissing, grinding, implied unprotected sex; alcohol consumption, non-linear storytelling (jumps around a few random scenes before we get back to the present that picks up from the end of chapter 7), cursing, the final line :-?; not that unedited i am so so sorry lol word count: 5.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Wishing fountains, we pray for change in the dark Moving mountains, we end up right where we start The world’s not falling apart But you and I, baby we are

Wishing Fountains - Bad Suns

“What does it say?” Minho asks.

You sigh, your eyes trailing the words on the small piece of paper in your hands before you shove one half of the fortune cookie in your mouth. It seems dry; you look like you can barely swallow it.

“Bullshit,” you say simply, a little bitter before you hide behind a mask of indifference, turning to him as you ask, “Yours?”

He breaks his own fortune cookie in half, pulling out a similar piece of paper that reads, “‘Jeg elsker deg’ means ‘I love you’ in Norwegian.”

You're both lying on a fluffy rug on the floor of your bedroom, with an empty bottle of rosé sitting somewhere near your head. “That’s... random,” you say, casting your eyes to the ceiling. “But I mean, at least it’s kind of educational. Now you know a phrase in Norwegian.”

“Sure,” Minho laughs, testing out the syllables in his mouth and butchering them in the process. “Who would I even say it to?”

“Impress your future girlfriend with your worldly knowledge. Or say it to Hyunjin, I’m sure he’ll swoon and blush like a schoolgirl.”

“That’s the last thing I want. He’s already clingy enough as it is.”

“Alright. Well, your loss then.”

He only hums in response. “You’re really not gonna tell me what yours is?”

“I told you. It’s bullshit.”

“Wanna tell me why the fortune cookie is evil at least? I’ll fight it for you.”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder with a playful scoff. “It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

It takes a minute for you to gather your thoughts into one semi-cohesive pile.

“Just… reminds me how I don’t really fit into anyone’s life,” you start, your voice coming out a little small and timid before you seem to let the alcohol give you enough confidence to say what you want. “I don’t feel like I’m worth anyone’s time. Everyone’s going to outgrow me eventually, if they haven’t already. Their lives will only get bigger and bigger, and they’ll have to leave me behind at some point. All that space but none for me.

“I think I’ll be stuck like this forever, in this fucking… limbo. And I know it’s dramatic because we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives in front of us and whatever else that people say. But it feels like wherever I go and whatever I do, my life will always be this small while you all move on. Chan and Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, even Hyunjin and Jisung when they’re not too busy being idiots. Everyone’s got everything all planned out, and they have other things to fall back on if those plans don’t work out. If I fall, I think I’ll just keep falling until I hit rock bottom.

“And you… you’re gonna do great things too. You’re gonna live your life and it’s going to be a good one, and you’ll forget about me too. A few years from now, when everyone’s already moved on, I’ll just be a girl that you used to know. I’m just a stop along the way.”

Then you pause, and the laugh you let out afterward is choked up and not at all sincere. You rub your hands down your face, groaning a little when you say, “Ugh, that was depressing. Sorry, it’s the wine. Forget I said anything.”

You have beautiful eyes, that’s what Minho has always thought, the kind that holds all the universe’s sparkles and all its sadness too, a bittersweet balance. The kind that makes one want to stop and admire for a while. He loves when they light up before the joy gradually spreads across your face, like watching the sun peak over the horizon before it colors the sky with ethereal pinks and purples and blues. You’re a wonderful sunrise, his favorite part of every day.

He even loves your faraway gaze when you’re here but you’re elsewhere simultaneously, hiding in your eyes musings that are privy to nobody else. You’d stare into the distance and he’d watch you the whole time, wondering if any of the thoughts that occupy your mind are about him.

Minho has an urge to take you into his arms and hold you tight and tell you that everything’s going to be okay. That no one’s going to forget about you because you’re not someone who can be forgotten so easily, let alone be forgotten by him. That he isn’t going anywhere if it’s not by your side, that he wants to be in your life until you decide you’re sick of him, not the other way around.

He wants to tell you he loves you because that’s the truth. He was gone the minute he saw you at that stupid party years ago when you had walked in shyly with Chan and Jess. You had tried to make yourself smaller in a roomful of strangers, but you’ve always been the only one Minho could find in a crowd.

Years and years from now, when he thinks back to his youth, the highlight reel that will pop up in his mind will be of his idiot friends and the good memories they’ve shared with one another. How they laughed and cried, how they fell and got back up together time and time again.

And at the center of it all will be you. Green grass, blue skies, his golden days and you, the focal point of his youth.

He loves you. Would it help, or would it scare you?

He doesn’t let himself debate that question for long. Regardless of what the answer is, now isn’t the right time. So instead, he says, “For what it’s worth, everyone’s just taking it one day at a time, even if they seem like they have it all planned out. You’re not falling behind. You’re going at your own pace, who cares about other people?”

You turn your head to stare at him, your cheeks flushed with a rosy tint from the wine you had shared and a pensive look on your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but he holds your gaze anyway.

“And I can’t speak for anyone else, but you’ll always have me. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

A quiet moment passes. If Minho focuses hard enough, he thinks he might be able to hear the faint beats of your heart.

His gaze flickers to your lips for barely a second before it returns to your eyes, quick enough for it to escape your notice.

Then, you’re holding yourself up on one elbow and shuffling into his orbit until you’re right by his side. He doesn’t move a single inch; he only watches as you get closer, and closer, and closer until there’s no more space between the two of you. He blinks, and in that split second he misses the way you let your eyes shut as you lean down to press your lips to his.

He’s surprised, but pleasantly so.

You taste like rosé, like something he’s always known that he wants to chase.

It stuns him enough that he forgets to respond, his mind focused solely on the feeling of your soft lips on him, the scent of your jasmine perfume and how you’re so warm pressed against him like this.

Maybe it’s the stillness of his body that shocks you out of it, because you pull away after a few seconds with an instant look of mortification in your eyes, trying to scramble back to your original spot on the rug like you’ve just committed an unspeakable sin. Running away, he thinks, is your first instinct.

But Minho is just a tad quicker than you are. He doesn’t let you stray very far when he props himself up to cup your face with one hand and bring you back to him.

He’s kissing you again and for a brief moment, he feels like he could die.

You don’t break from him this time. Instead, you’re kissing him back just as deeply. You let him lower you back to the floor as he holds himself up above you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips while his thumb strokes your cheek softly, keeping you there in his loose hold so you could still run if that’s what you want to do.

But you stay with him, your hands trailing up the expanse of his chest to find purchase on his shoulders, your legs parting so he could perfectly slot himself into the space that you’ve allowed him.

When he rocks his hips into you experimentally, you bite on his bottom lip, a whining sound from your throat comes out muffled against his mouth.

He strays just long enough and far enough so he could look into your eyes, with your pupils blown much darker than they had been at the start of the evening.

He says your name, the gentlest sound in the world, then a question. “What do you want?”

Minho half expects you to overthink your answer and come back to your senses, to choose flight because it would be the easier option.

But you don’t. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you lock onto him, and there’s something underneath the pool of lust in your gaze that leaves him breathless and wondering.

“You,” you say quietly, “I want you.”

And it’s with this simple answer that you pull him back to you again, not the other way around. You kiss him more fervently than before if that’s even possible. When he slides his arm around your waist, you let him pick you up to cross the few steps it takes to get to your bed, his lips never leaving you even after he has laid you onto the mattress. They follow the path where your jawline leads down to your neck, then where your neck meets your collarbone, and he savors every little whimper that you make for him even though he’s barely touched you yet. There’s hardly any patch of skin that he leaves unkissed, and when he reaches where your shirt begins to hide the rest of you from him, he only looks up at you, quietly asking for more permission.

You don’t give him a verbal answer. You take matters into your own hands, lifting your top over your head and flinging it somewhere on the floor.

Then your bra follows to join your shirt, wherever it may be. Minho assumes they’ve landed on the bottle of rosé, only guessing by the sound of the glass being knocked over and rolling around. He’s not sure but he doesn’t care about it enough to look, not when he’s got you right here under him, so beautiful and so willing that it makes his head spin.

He’s imagined this before, just a few times whenever he's drunk enough to let his mind wander without the guilt that comes with it when he’s sober. He has wondered before what it would feel like to kiss you breathless and have you kiss him back, to touch you in ways that no one else ever has, to taste how sweet you are and feel your warmth. None of it is appropriate, not at all platonic. He’s well aware of it.

It's been years, ever since Minho met you at that party when he was 19 and you had been too awkward to start a conversation. Years of walking with you in the rain after class, sharing umbrellas that are too small to shield the both of you but it’s okay, because he doesn’t mind leaving half of his body exposed to the harsh weather as long as the rain doesn’t get on you. Years of making sure you get home safely after nights out with your friends, years of insisting that he sees you walk inside your building and up to your floor whether it's 11PM or 4:30AM. Years of lingering glances, of pretending he isn’t bothered whenever Felix offers to introduce you to someone, of smiles sent your way that are far too endeared to mean nothing at all.

Years of loving you in silence because he’s your friend first and foremost, and his friendship with you means more to him than the feelings he has for you.

And yet...

He’s here in your bed, watching you with mesmerized eyes as you take off the rest of your clothes before helping him discard his, as you kiss him just as deeply as he’s wanted to kiss you for the longest time, as you keep pulling him into you even when he’s already as close to you as humanly possible. His lips on yours, his heart pressed against the other side of yours. His fingers intertwined with yours when he slips inside of you, and how your hands stay interlocked the entire time you’re wrapped together. You cling to him so tightly, as though it would hurt you if he were to ever let go.

It’s the way you look at him, like he’s the only person that exists in your universe. It’s the broken moans that you give him, the nonsense babbles that make his chest swell with pride at the knowledge that he’s making you feel so good that the only thing you know how to say coherently is his name. It’s the heaven between your thighs, absolutely divine and infinitely better than any fantasy that he could ever let himself indulge in.

Just for tonight, Minho can pretend that you're his, even though he knows that he’s already been yours since the first time you met. He’s been yours for as long as he can remember, even if you don’t know it yet.

Later on, when he’s collapsed next to you on the bed, there’s a safe distance between your tired bodies and a certain tension in the air that’s heavy with the consequences of your actions. When he takes your hand, the one that’s shaking as you grip the sheets between your fingers, it alleviates some of that anxiety.

“The fortune cookie, what did it say?” he asks, like you’re simply continuing the conversation from before.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Seriously?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Seriously.”

You purse your lips as you look at him for another second before you cast your eyes to the ceiling again, like you’d done just an hour ago. “It said ‘You’ll be loved.’”

You are, he thinks to himself. You’re loved.

“Open wide.”

You give him a look, to which he only responds with a shrug and a sly grin.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you say, but you take the spoonful of chicken soup that he offers you anyway. You can’t focus on the taste but it’s warm and the relief you feel is instant when it soothes your throat.

You’ve practically been on bedrest for the past three days, slowly rotting away in your apartment with a bad strain of the seasonal flu until Minho came over and unleashed his inner mama bear on you. Now here you are, wrapped up like a burrito on the couch (Minho insisted; he wouldn’t have it any other way) while he spoon feeds you homemade chicken soup.

You were stubborn about it at first, as one could probably imagine. When you told the group chat that you wouldn’t make it to movie night at Chan’s place last weekend, you were adamant that you would be able to sleep it off and bounce back in no time, despite Minho offering to make you some food and bring over some meds and cough drops.

The symptoms worsened overnight though, and you developed a fever along with a cough that’s worse than any you’ve ever experienced. When Minho called you to make sure you were still alive, you could barely even speak.

He hates your cavalier attitude when it comes to taking care of yourself. He hates himself even more for believing in your nonchalance and not bulldozing his way over sooner.

“I’m enjoying this because I was right,” he says, feeding you more of the soup. “I told you instant ramyeon wouldn’t cure you.”

He lets his I told you so triumph go easily, even though he suspects that you have much more to bite back at him if you could get through half a sentence without wanting to hack your lungs out. You make a noise, and he isn’t really sure if it’s one of agreement or protest but it’s most likely the latter. He thinks it’s cute that you close your eyes after every spoonful, lazily eating like one of his cats back home whenever they’ve run out of energy. You’re probably tired and can’t wait to get into bed.

When the soup is finished, Minho fetches you your meds and a glass of warm water. He doesn’t know if the scrunched up face you make after every pill is because you hate the bitter taste or if the tablets keep dragging against your already sensitive throat on their way down, but he strokes your hair all the while you wash it down with water, a gentle hand on your head as if to say You’re doing well.

He tucks you in bed not long after, despite your weak protests as he carries you to your bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you had managed to croak out. “I’m not that helpless.”

“I know,” came his response and a teasing smile. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

You’re pliant once you’re laid gently on the mattress though, idly watching Minho as he wraps the duvet around your shoulders and fluffs your pillows just the way you like. This is awfully domestic, he notes, and he can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to your forehead, not when he’s absolutely endeared by the way your tired eyes try to keep themselves open just so you could look at him.

When his lips leave your warm skin, he thinks he might’ve imagined the blush that colors your cheeks.

But he blinks, and you’re still flushed, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him, mild surprise evident in your drowsy gaze.

Something passes over the two of you, a kind of silence that he isn’t accustomed to when he’s with you. It isn’t bad, it’s just… strange.

One beat, then another. “Want me to stay with you?” he asks.

He knows you’d say no, and yet he can’t help the disappointment when you tell him, “You don’t have to. Go home, Min. Thanks for taking care of me today.”

“You sure? I can take the couch. It’s fine.”

“I’m sure. Chan and Jess said they’re coming to check on me in the morning.”

Minho lets out a hum, and purses his lips.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you look like you want to.”

“Just… y’know,” he starts, gauging your reaction all the while, for any signs of physical discomfort or otherwise, “I like you like this. You’re not hiding when you’re like this.”

“You like me frail and on the verge of death?”

He rolls his eyes, pretends to flick at your forehead. “You know what I mean.”

When you giggle, it’s immediately followed by a wince, like the movement is hurting your sensitive throat. “Do I hide when I’m with you?”

“Sometimes.” He moves his hand to caress your face, gentle fingertips tracing the apple of your cheek. Surprisingly, you let him, if only for a little while. “It feels like you’re always ready to leave.”

“Are you worried I’m gonna run away?” you ask, covering your hand over his to move it away, but you still let his touch linger when you only lower his hand to your neck, where he starts twiddling your hair between his fingers. It feels like you want him close, close enough that it matters, close in a way that still lets you have control over how it matters. “I physically can’t. I’m sick.”

“Does that mean you’ll run away when you get better?”

You seem to ponder the question for a moment. You’re holding onto his wrist and Minho is almost certain that you can feel his pulse. He would do so many things for you if only you’d let him.

When you answer him, you keep things light but your tone is soft, gentle in a way that tells him your sentiment means more than the words you cherry pick on the surface.

“No, I have finals in two weeks.”

The first time that Minho gets to wake up next to you, nothing feels real. Not the pleasant scent of your shampoo greeting him the minute he opens his eyes, not your soft breath fanning his bare collarbone where you lay with your head tucked into the crook of his neck, not even the feeling of you in his arms, safe and warm, as though this is where you’re meant to be. None of it seems like anything other than a dream.

When memories of the previous night come rushing to the surface, it also brings back the annoyance he felt watching Yeonjun openly flirt with you at the party, and the bitter feeling that accompanied the reminder that Minho couldn’t even really do anything about it but stand idly by.

But you stir in his arms, and all of the annoyance and bitterness goes away. Because you’re here with him and not anybody else. There’s a certain ego boost knowing that he’s the one you kiss, the only one you allow in your most personal space. To know you is a privilege, and it’s one that you grant no one else but him.

Last night, something happened. Something changed, he felt it when you were the one who asked him to stay. You let him put his shirt on you, let him hold you as you slept, even welcomed his embrace and snuggled further into his body in a way that you’ve never done before.

How you kissed him just hours prior, how you looked at him… God, he thinks he could just spill all of his secrets if you did it again.

But when you open your eyes, Minho is already pretending to be asleep again. How would you react? He’s curious to know. Would you scramble away the second the realization kicks in that you let him break your rule? Would you leave his side and act all nonchalant about it when you inevitably have to face each other later? He’s willing to bet that you would.

But you surprise him again. He feels you watching him for a moment, then your touch ghosts upon his features. It almost makes him falter in his act, your gentle fingers tracing his temple, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose down to his lips. There’s a sigh that you exhale, and he misses your touch the very second it leaves his skin. He itches to bring you closer to him again.

So that’s what he does. Minho keeps the facade going, pretending like he’s now just waking up with his limbs stretching out. You stiffen when he hugs you tighter, but you soon relax after he starts stroking your hair.

Nothing has changed for him, but can you say the same?

“Dude!”

Minho flinches into action when a voice calls his name right by the car window, loud enough to startle him even through the thick layer of glass. When he turns his head, he finds Changbin’s face all pressed up against the window, struggling to hold three bags full of supplies that are threatening to spill out. “Help me with these!” his friend says.

It’s the week of Jisung, Felix and Seungmin’s birthdays; you lot tends to go all out for the quadruple birthday bash every year (Chan’s birthday is only 11 days later after all). Seungmin’s family has a lakeside cabin a couple hours from the city, that’s where everyone goes to unwind for a long weekend with plenty of food and even more drinks. This year, it’s no different.

Minho and Changbin are on drinks duty, tasked with picking up all of the alcohol and refreshments for the weekend ahead. He doesn’t really know what the rest are doing, just that you and Jeongin are babysitting Hyunjin to make sure the latter doesn’t deviate from the proposed budget and go way overboard when getting snacks and decorations. You sent Minho a text a while ago, a video of you facepalming and rolling your eyes before you flip the camera over to show Hyunjin and Jeongin bickering like children over a mega pack of chips.

Once everything is in the car – cases of beer safely loaded into the trunk, bottles of water and soft drinks set in their designated plastic bags in the backseat, Changbin comments from the driver’s seat, “You looked weird. You were smiling.”

Minho only stares at him for a moment, a neutral expression on his face as he blinks those typical Minho blinks, before he turns his head to the other side to lean against the window.

He was thinking about the first time your tradition started, the first year Jess had to drag you on the trip. She used to do it often; you were shy in the beginning.

He’s got a favorite memory of you, and it wasn’t you and him sitting together on the bank of the river during the sunset, while the others were in the water, splashing around and having the time of your lives (you two were the only ones who couldn’t swim, but it was okay, you didn’t feel like you missed out on anything because at least you had each other).

His favorite memory of you wasn’t running into you in the middle of the night when he went into the kitchen for some water and you were out by yourself on the adjacent balcony, sitting with your chin resting on your folded knees and the crescent moon for company. He stayed there for a moment, dazed, wondering if he was still dreaming or if it was just you. When Minho finally made his presence known, you told him you couldn’t sleep and he suggested that you break into Hyunjin’s secret ramyeon stash, because going to bed with a full stomach always made him feel better whenever he was restless. 1:58AM, you ended up almost burning your hand on the stove, too busy trying to keep your giggles down when he made a stupid joke.

Minho’s favorite memory wasn’t of you falling asleep on his shoulder on the drive back either, with you squished in the backseat between him and Felix, and your light snores reminded him of Soonie whenever the cat would doze off on his chest. It wasn’t any of these moments, even though he thinks he might’ve loved you in every instance.

His favorite memory of you was the evening before that trip had to come to an end, the last night you all spent together before you had to leave your safe little bubble. It was after dinner and some drinks, everyone was buzzed and the air was crisp, chilly every now and then. When you were gathered on the dock overlooking the lake, each holding a sparkler that Jisung had prepared, you were laughing. Everyone else was laughing too, but yours was the only sound Minho could focus on.

“Be quiet. I’m gonna take a nap,” he tells Changbin, ignoring the comment entirely as he closes his eyes. “Wake me when we get to Chan’s.”

The lights, and your friends, and the moon hanging high up in the sky like a guardian angel back then.

You were watching how it all reflected so beautifully in the rippling waters below. He was watching you.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

His question hangs in the awful silence as you stare at him. Minho can see your nails digging into your palms where your fists are clenched, your glassy eyes and the frown between your brows, like you’re trying your hardest to hold back tears. Why else would you be so upset?

He’s known about it for a while, or at the very least, he’s had an inkling of how you feel about him. He knows he isn’t in over his head when he says there’s a certain glow that radiates from within you when you’re together, a side of you that’s tender and at peace, one that he’s never seen you show anyone else. The way you look at him, it’s the same way that he looks at you even if you don’t realize it yet, or maybe you just don’t want to admit it out loud.

It hasn’t been one sided for at least some time now, he knows it.

But it’s frustrating to watch you try so hard to fight it. He’s the only one holding on, and you’ve been willing to let go at every turn.

“See what?” you challenge.

This isn’t how he planned to ever say these words, but the moment is here whether he likes it or not. It’s staring at you both in the face even if you are doing your best to hide from it.

Minho holds your gaze for a few seconds before he steps toward you again. This time, you stand your ground.

“You asked me if things changed for me and I said no. That was the truth, I never lied to you. We’re friends but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you as something more from the beginning.”

He pauses there, watches your eyes and how you take it in. They soften a little, filling up some more as you process his words. There’s surprise in the look that you wear, sure. A little confusion, yes. But most of all, you just look sad. When you call out his name, he can tell by your tone that it’s a warning, that you’re about to run away for real this time if he presses on, and yet he can’t stop until he says his piece.

“If you want me to spell it out for you, I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t remember what it feels like not to love you, and it drives me crazy that you don’t see any of it. The thing that makes me even crazier, do you know what it is? I think you feel something for me too, but you won’t admit it to yourself and you always resort to shutting down instead of facing your feelings. How much longer are you going to run away from me?”

When the first tear unintentionally spills over from the corner of your eye, Minho knows he’s struck a nerve. He wants to reach out and wipe away the tiny stream that rolls down your face but you beat him to it, wiping at your cheek in angry motions.

“You’re wrong.” Your voice is tight when you tell him, “I don’t have feelings for you.” It’s the only thing that you address.

Sometimes, he searches for your answer at the bottom of a glass, or on the other end of looks that seem to linger just a beat too long. But as he’s standing here, right now, he finds it in your hesitation to speak, in the lie you give him when you finally do.

It’s the answer he’s always wanted and yet, the knowledge brings him no satisfaction at all. It only lodges a lump in his throat, an overwhelming sense of dejection when he sees how hard you’re trying to fight this.

“I know you,” he sighs after a moment, a little defeated. “I know when you’re lying.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well after all.”

You’re stubborn. You’ve always been stubborn.

Minho takes another step forward. It feels like it’s a step closer to the end as you both know it, because how else is your relationship going to come back from this? He sees the slight shake in your shoulders that you try to suppress, but he’ll always be the one to notice.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” he says quietly, his final resort. A challenge but it sounds an awful lot like a plea. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that things can take a turn for the worse in just two weeks’ time. The last time you both were here, you’d kissed his endeared smile and held him so impossibly close to you. Now, everything is falling apart, the seams coming undone one by one. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

Minho meant what he said, about how loving you drives him crazy sometimes. Even when you’re breaking his heart, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. A noticeable sting settles in between the cracks of his ribcage at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, your balled up fists and his own reflection in your glassy eyes.

“Do you want me to say it so badly?” you ask, and he can only stare at you when your voice comes out harsher than it was before, though it cracks toward the end as you try to keep up with the facade. “Fine, I’ll say it.”

It’s not what he asked, but it’s confirmation nonetheless. It’s acceptance but not how he wants it to be. Acceptance that you do love him, and yet, you say it in a way that he’s never expected to hear from you.

“I don’t want to love you.”

298 notes · View notes

skay-ali · 21 days ago

Text

The Forgotten Daughter

Chaper 4

“I don't think Alfred likes what you're doing,” a girl a few years older than him appeared out of nowhere, taking the boy by surprise.

“And who are you?” the boy asked you with an angry tone, still hiding in an expensive vase that adorned one of the tables.

“I'm ___ and believe me, I also tried to steal it and sell it, but Alfred discovered me and punished me by making me clean the mansion with him” you still had that smile from ear to ear since you started talking to him.

“Well that won't happen if he doesn't find out” he defended himself, hiding the vase in a bag “unless you tell him” he pointed out angrily, you were his loose end in this crime.

“I promise I won't say anything if you tell me your name.”

Jason thought of all the great things you could have asked of him, but instead you just asked for his name, how stupid you were, well he doesn't really complain, he benefited from your treatment.

“It's Jason,” he said before walking away and leaving the girl behind.

When he saw her again, he saw her again with her smile and waving at him with her hands.

Thousands of books surrounded him, a smell of wood could be felt in the air, the smell of books also lingered.

Large shelves were everywhere, they created a large labyrinth in the library.

He was bored, he didn't bring anything to this place to entertain himself, even so, he preferred to stay here bored than pay the consequences of his actions.

Sometimes he wondered how it was that Alfred was the one who put him in order instead of the man who became his mentor.

“Hello, little thief mouse,” he was scared for a moment, until he saw the same girl from before.

He just frowned at her.

“I knew Alfred caught you” I noticed a bit of mockery in his words.

“You told him so” she reacted angrily, so she actually joked with him, typical rich girl behavior.

“Not how could I… we made a deal, didn't we?”

“…” Jason actually doubted that girl's words, she was very suspicious in his opinion.

“You know, Alfred is like a bloodhound, he knows what is happening under his nose, even if you don't believe it.”

“What are you doing in this place?” He questioned the girl who sat a considerable distance away from him, near a window.

“The same thing you are doing,” he replied.

“You are hiding so as not to be punished for stealing” he raised an eyebrow doubting her words, he couldn't imagine the elegantly dressed girl in front of him doing such a thing, surely she is being sarcastic.

“Well, not so much like that, I deleted Dad's work schedule” you smiled innocently “maybe then he could talk to me once, even if it was to punish me” your voice sounded sad when you said that phrase “but Alfred noticed it before, so I had to "I had to run for my life before he punished me... without cookies and helping him clean" your attitude became cheerful again, your hands also moved animatedly when you narrated your story.

Your way of putting yourself together amazed him, your joy was also contagious, that bubbly smile you had made him want to laugh with you.

He saw you searching on one side of the bookshelf, your fingers running through the covers of different books.

Until you stopped at one and carefully removed it from its place.

“have you ever read this book” you moved it in his face.

I didn't know why you were asking him.

Maybe this time you were going to make fun of him.

“It was my mother's favorite book, she always read it to me”

“Read it while you hide, I'm sure you'll love it” you offered it to him, he took it hesitantly, you didn't expect him to actually read it.

He saw you take out another book, from a different place.

You read it in a peaceful way, not caring about what was around you.

The boy carelessly glanced at the title, it didn't matter if it was that or dying of boredom.

Thus began a small friendship between the two, when he didn't have to play his role as Robin, spend time with Bruce or just wanted to take a break, he would go to that side of the library where he always found you, where they read books, sometimes he would tell you.

He talked about how hooked he was on the book you gave him and the author's other stories.

You asked him many times to read it and he observed that after a few chapters you would fall asleep on his shoulder while he continued reading.

The silly things that were told always made him happy.

He still hasn't forgotten the birthday gift you gave him, you took him to a movie theater where they showed movies that had already been released a long time ago, but they had something that made him feel very lucky to have you, it made him the happiest teenager in the world, which You took them to see the movies of their favorite author's books.

I didn't forget the times they sneaked into a room where musical instruments were kept, when you turned on a record player or the radio, you looked for the most moving rock songs or some bands with new concepts, as long as I made them move around the room at the same time. rhythm of the instruments and lyrics.

His heart hurt, the times he saw you cry, he couldn't bear to do it, because he would feel the same.

When you expressed your pain for not fitting in with the family, for being forgotten and left aside.

The guilt you felt for being jealous of him, for having Bruce's attention.

Oh what a good soul you were, to blame yourself for feeling a very common feeling, and yet continue to love him as your brother.

Maybe your father didn't really love you, but that gave him the advantage of loving you more, his beloved sister who always did her best to understand him, you let him be the same, you never imposed the idea on him to change, he was better than everyone.

He would forget you so he could have you all to himself. He was very selfish but he didn't feel guilty about it….

Suddenly he remembered everything, how could he forget about you, his older sister, his playmate in the mansion, you made his life in this silent and huge mansion more manageable.

How is it that their memories of all the adventures they lived disappeared, every time they escaped from the mansion to different places where they could be happy children, eating junk food like pizza, ice cream or donuts, they loved the fast food place they always went to , or the arcade they visited and stayed until the place closed.

All those good moments remained as a vague recurring scenario in his memory, a girl dressed elegantly and smiling at him, or reading a book unfazed by her surroundings.

Oh no, she was no longer in the mansion... like she would be if he broke his promise.

The little light of the day was disappearing, orange rays illuminated the library window with great intensity.

“You know sometimes I think it's time to leave this place” he heard the girl confess, she was lying on the floor watching him read his favorite book.

His face was distorted by the girl's words, hearing that made his world collapse, he was going to leave and abandon him.

He put his reading aside and slowly approached his older sister.

“But I won't do it, not while you're still by my side” he saw his sister's look of hope.

“I will never leave, I promise.” Jason knelt down next to the girl who was lying down and made that promise, he laid down next to the girl…

Their gazes ended up lost in the sky, the bright orange colors faded and brought with them a dark night.

It was there where he saw how his sister took out a round lamp, when she hung it up it illuminated the entire dark room, thousands of lights in the shape of stars.

It was a beautiful day, a promise from two young brothers, who were trying to find their way in such a strange and empty world, it was a shame that a few months later the promise was broken.

And the worst thing is that I never looked for her when she came back from the dead, she left you as a vague memory.

Oh he felt so guilty, he hated himself for that, his heart ached just thinking about how much you must have suffered knowing he died.

The worst thing is that he never came back into your life.

He needed to look for her, even if he had to do it for years, searching even the least inhabited places in the world, he would find you and make up for the time he left you, even if it cost him his life.

He stood up from the large dining room table, leaving the entire family present surprised.

He looked at Dick one last time, who was holding his phone, showing a drawing of you.

Now I knew what Damian was doing, it seems that he also fell for your charms, he doesn't blame him, you were a great older sister and he was happy to give you such a title.

What didn't make him happy was that you were in danger outside the mansion, even though he didn't like to admit it, or without one of them constantly protecting you.

He left the room, with all eyes on him, he turned a deaf ear to the questions that were thrown at him.

“Look, I have two cards,” Jon mocked when he saw that he was winning.

“Don't be confident, in the end I will win” Damian warned the boy who was celebrating his close victory, the fool thought, he had some cards that would help him have the game in his favor.

“A little streak of luck isn't enough for them to win,” you mocked the children, before pulling out a card.

When the two children saw her, they complained about their new disadvantaged situation.

It was fun to see them like that.

“You cheated” Damián pointed his finger at you, something didn't add up, you had very good tricks up your sleeve, he admitted it, not even his other brothers were capable of that.

“Noo, that's impossible, you just don't want to admit that I'm better at this game than you.” His gaze remained on you, scrutinizing every small action you made, looking for any mistake on your part that would reveal your trap.

“Wait, our judge never said anything” you pointed to your baby who was sitting in a baby seat, she was next to you in front of the two children.

“He's a baby, she'll never notice the obvious traps.” Seeing how his little niece looked at him in bewilderment and then her childish smile made him relax a little.

“How dare you say such a thing about Alice” you pretended to be offended.

“Yes, Damian, don't blame Alice because you're losing fairly.” Jon approached the baby and handed her one of his fallen toys after cleaning it up, which the girl gladly accepted.

“You see three against one, accept that there are no cheats”

The world worked in strange ways, you've known that since you were little, when your mother left and you met your father.

When you moved and found people who understood you and were part of your life.

When you were lost after graduating, in a repetitive job, and you found the news that you were having a baby.

When you saw her for the first time, your baby, in her little body, weak and fragile, crying non-stop, it made you wrap her in your arms and cry too, now you would have a blood family, someone for whom you would give your entire life, who you would be showered with love and attention.

Meeting your younger blood brother... and living with him was strange at first, but you made it a recurring thing in your life.

Finally, what brought the world to your door today, the person for whom you cried for a long time when you were a teenager, the person who left you another big void in your life...

The person who, at this moment, brought tears to your eyes, even with a stoic face and teeth clashing together, you could not hold back the rain of salty tears, you had to let go of your facial muscles, the trembling of your lips was stronger than expected. That you could bear.

“Oh little thief mouse” you said in a whisper, he just looked at you with his smile from ear to ear, the one he always gave you when they were doing some prank, when they were having fun playing in the rooms of the mansion.

You hesitantly brought your hand up to his face, gently touching his cheek, was he even real? You felt his skin, you ran over parts of his face, he had grown a lot.

The man also let himself be carried away by your touch, he had missed him so much, it made him remember the times when he would lie on your shoulders and you would caress his hair or run over his face playing with your fingers.

But when you removed your hand, he felt the cold take over the parts of his face that you caressed.

At one point you raised your hand again and… hit his cheek.

Although it was an emotional moment to see him again, a feeling of resentment remained in your heart, in your defense he deserved it for making you cry a lot and for leaving, even when he promised not to.

You smiled even with your eyes overflowing with tears, you jumped and hugged him, he was taller than you, he became a big rock.

It was difficult just thinking about talking to him, you needed to know how he was alive, maybe get angry for his recent appearance and for making you cry so much.

But when Damian appeared and behind him Jon carrying your baby's chair with her crying, you knew it wouldn't be easy.

Even more so when you see your little brother point a dagger at Jason.

Wait... how does he have that, he promised that he would no longer bring weapons to your house.

It was a very eventful day, on the part of your brothers who spent their time fighting like little children, and your baby who started throwing a tantrum that was difficult to calm down.

You must be very grateful to Jon who was a great help not only in calming your brothers but also who was by your side trying to calm your little daughter.

“enough” you shouted, stressed by the mess.

Everyone froze when they saw you upset.

You approached your brothers, pulled them by their ears until they sat on a different side of the room.

You walked over to your baby and Jon, carefully picking up Alice and rocking her.

You sat in a small chair rocking your daughter, trying to calm her down, observing all your visitors from time to time.

“wait is she your daughter?” Jason connected the dots and realized a sad truth, he missed the birth of his niece.

“Yes Jason is his daughter” Damián didn't let you answer “and I'm his favorite uncle” he showed an arrogant smile.

“You really think that,” Jason scoffed.

“Hey, I thought I was.” Jon reacted in shock.

“You're not even family” the two looked at him angrily.

“I don't care if I consider you part of mine” you smiled at the depressed boy.

He gave you a brighter smile. Well you could say that now your house became noisier.

Elsewhere at that same moment, a team of heroes caught one of the suspects of committing a terrible crime.

While Wonder Woman made sure to keep him in an interrogation room.

Batman and Superman were reviewing some data they had obtained when capturing the criminal.

His other companions with some of the oldest trainees of the supers were waiting in front of the big screen.

It was a very important case for everyone, so many were attentive to what was happening.

Martian Detective was the one who came in to question the man, but no one expected what he would say to be something shocking.

“I washed the minds of many villains, taking them out of the crime game, that's what they wanted to hear,” the scientist confessed after so much interrogation.

A manic smile adorned his features.

“You didn't wash their mind, but you also ruined it, but now they are incapable of being normal people, many of them have acquired a childish mentality or much worse” spoke a new voice.

A hero, dressed in black, entered the room, his voice was thick, it was obvious that he felt bitterness for what he did.

“Ahh and now I'm a psychopath for wanting the greater good.”

“You are destroying people's lives,” debated the man in the bat suit.

"It's nothing more than karma, they destroyed other lives, that they pay the consequences is not strange," the scientist commented without remorse, checking his nails with disinterest.

“Oh at least that's what she said, I just wanted to torture their minds until they died.”

“Are you talking about your accomplice?” they interrogated him.

"nono... I don't use that term with her, rather she is the moral compass of the group and the mastermind behind the brainwashing, I didn't want to see them pay the price for their actions... always an angel" it was funny say such a word, after all it was a nickname that suited him.

“so they caught red” you said with a bit of annoyance.

"Yes, Blanco hasn't returned from his vacation yet... I think we should postpone the next objective." His voice had a little worry.

Even if he tried to maintain a calm appearance, seeing his reaction on the monitors showed the truth.

“no... we will continue with the plan” you were firm with your response.

“gather the others we need to be prepared” With a few more words exchanged, they ended their conversation and one of the many screens lost signal.

You went to the crib on the side of the room and picked up your daughter.

You carried her sweetly in your arms, rocking her carefully, humming a song, when you sat down in a chair in the office.

You caressed the little girl carefully, her features were very delicate, she always brought a small smile to your face when you looked at her.

You smiled at your daughter.

“Don't worry, Alice, soon we won't worry about someone hurting you.” With one hand you caressed her head carefully.

She took your hand and started playing with your fingers.

“The Alice project is still going,” you whispered.

Your gaze returned again to the monitors, some showed images of different people doing some activities, others showed some data, some two contained news and the rest had no signal, only distorting colors were shown.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

#x reader #yandere platonic #yandere dc #platonic batfam #yandere batfam

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haeryna · 10 months ago

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feeling so high but too far away to hold me ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ;༊

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summary: satoru and suguru come to a critical conclusion, but is it too late for them to mend what was broken?

tw: angst, homophobia, abandonment, mentions of (unintentional) self harm, mentions of illness, barely proofread

notes: title taken from halsey's "without me." all images were taken from pinterest and are NOT mine! i'm not sure if i like how this came out but oh well gotta get through it lol. banner is from @/cafekitsune!

Lately, Satoru has been thinking a lot more about you.

He shouldn't be. Choso's been on his ass for stupid mistakes, like a slight misstep during practice, or the way his voice wavers ever so slightly on notes that are well within his vocal range. Nanami grumbles a bit more when recording sessions extend even further. Haibara brings him an extra water bottle during practice. Even Sukuna is slightly nicer to him, as if he can see how much Satoru is struggling.

Satoru hates it. It makes him feel weak, because he knows now that he misses you more than his heart can bear. He has women throwing themselves at him left and right, so why does a girl from a town he left behind make something in his chest twist? By all accounts, Satoru is thriving. He has a wonderful relationship with his boyfriend, his boy group has broken record after record with each single they release, and Satoru has just signed onto a brand deal with Chanel.

(He knows you're not just a girl, you were his. The only person he could bear to share Suguru with, the only person who could see past his flirtatious facade and say, "It's okay, 'Toru, I'm here for you." He knows the reason why he forces himself to believe you would have only shunned him like his parents, is to run from the realization that he abandoned you in the most horrific way possible.)

It doesn't help that his managers handle all of his social media accounts, and go through all his mail. As soon as him and Suguru signed onto the same agency, their phone lines were decommissioned, and they were given highly protected personal phones. You wouldn't be able to reach him even if you wanted to. Hell, they barely even saw Shoko, and the only reason was because they were both the only people who trusted her to take care of their medical needs.

Suguru had tried, once, to ask about you, to get a way of contacting you. Shoko had looked him dead in the eyes, steel hidden behind soft brown, and told him that, "if you were just going to abandon her like that, at least have the decency to stay gone until they could commit to her fully." The way Suguru's face had paled only confirmed the worst for Satoru; you hadn't understood. You had seen their leaving as the worst kind of betrayal. Shoko had refused to tell them more, stubborn in her loyalty to you.

At first, it was easier to hide shame behind a kind of disdain. Of course you hadn't understood what it had been like, being rejected so violently by parents you once loved. Of course you hadn't understood what it was like to feel the noose tighten around your neck until you knew you would either run, or die. Maybe if you couldn't let them go, it meant you truly had never loved them anyways.

As the months grew, slowly and surely, the tangle of excuses unraveled. You might not have understood, but you had defended him silently in small rebellious ways. The eyeshadow palette that still sat at his vanity. The birthday card you'd made him when you turned 14, with a small rainbow under the phrase "I'll love you no matter what." You too had felt the noose; you'd spent years fighting it, fighting your hatred of the small town you were forced to grow up in. "Satoru, Suguru, Shoko," you would tell them, "one day we'll all move out of here into the nicest, fanciest apartment in the city."

Grief was love with nowhere to go, and in that particular moment, Satoru found your absence particularly painful. Sighing, he stretches, resting his chin on the back of the couch to stare at the clock. 12:36; Suguru was probably still awake. Quietly, Satoru pads to the spare room in the apartment he shares with Suguru that they'd converted into their music and production room. Unsurprisingly, he finds Suguru perched on an old barstool they thrifted, gently strumming the strings of the guitar you'd gifted him so long ago.

"Satoru," Suguru says softly, pausing. "What's wrong? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

Wordlessly, Satoru wraps his arms around him, nuzzling into the slope of his neck. After a few moments, he speaks.

"I miss her."

He can feel the way Suguru stiffens slightly in his arms, before exhaling, tension releasing from his shoulders. "I miss her too. I've been thinking, Satoru."

"That's dangerous for you," Satoru chides, and Suguru rolls his eyes fondly.

"You're such a brat. I've been thinking, what if we went back?"

Satoru blanches, staring at Suguru. "What?"

"Not permanently," Suguru hastily amends, knowing how deep Satoru's scars run. "Just enough to...I don't know, Satoru. We messed up really badly. I know there's a large chance she won't even be there anymore. She used to always tell us about how she couldn't wait to move to the city. But we can at least start there, right?"

The news of Satoru's hiatus caused enough ripples for even you to notice it. Despite the fact you avoided anything to do with both his and Suguru's music career, every news outlet, radio channel, and social media post had something to say about it. Hell, you couldn't even open the local newspaper without seeing his face plastered on it, lamenting his temporary break from the group's next comeback.

Frowning, you slam the kitchen cabinet door a bit harder than necessary. Why should you care? If anything, you should be gloating with this piece of information, that not everything was perfect in Gojo Satoru's idol career. Yet, a small part of you still worried. Was he eating alright? Did something happen to Suguru? Should you call Shoko?

The door chimes, startling you out of your thoughts. Your parents are back in the hospital undergoing another round of treatments but they could have came back early. Sighing, you walk over to the door, opening it without a second thought.

"Hi, what-"

In that moment, you feel several emotions. Regret, that you hadn't checked who it was before opening it. An odd blend of concern and fear; why had they come back, was something horribly wrong? Most overpoweringly, was the deep sense of anger that welled up inside of you, seeing both Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru standing on your doorstep.

"You're here," Sator- Gojo, breathes, crystalline blue eyes greedily drinking in the sight of you. He reaches for you, but you flinch back.

"What are you doing here?"

You're surprised to see that Gojo seems hurt by that statement. Sugu- Geto steps closer. "We wanted to see you."

"Oh, so a whim?" You can't help the harshness of your voice, or the way that your voice trembles ever so slightly. "Its been years, Geto. Five years since you left, and you come back now? What am I, just an afterthought? I already knew that but my god you're such an asshole."

"That's not what I'm saying," Geto sighs, and you want to throttle him. "We missed you so much, I can't even-"

You can't help but cut him off, fists clenched and hot tears pooling in your eyes. "You could have left a note. You could have left me an address, could have reached out once you settled in, anything!"

It's Gojo's turn to speak, hands fidgeting as if he wants to pull you close. "Our managers-"

"I don't care!"

A hush falls after your outburst, and you can't help the tears that slip down your cheeks. "Did I really mean that little to you? I would have left with you, I would have done anything for you, so don't you dare try to come up with an excuse. Don't try to tell me that your managers stopped you. I loved you." Your voice breaks. "How could you?"

Both men look ashamed. Geto is the first to speak. "We thought you would have moved away. We lost our original numbers, and Shoko refused to-"

Your eyes flash. "Don't try to blame Shoko for this. Unlike the two of you, she stayed with me."

Gojo flinches. "That's not fair. We didn't have a choice, why can't you see that?"

A sardonic laugh escapes your lips. "See what? All I see is the choice you made in leaving me behind."

"What happened to you?" Geto breathes, and you fight the urge to slap him. "You were so adamant that you would get out of this town."

"Well I can't," you hiss. "Not all of us can abandon their loved ones without a second thought."

Gojo's face looks like you've just shattered his world. "You never left?"

Something in the way he says that breaks something inside of you. "Mom and Dad have whatever Grandmother had," you tell them. You're not even sure why you're saying this, but there's a sick sense of pleasure in watching it start to sink in. "There's nobody else to help take care of them. Whenever she can, Shoko will try her best to stop by."

"You've been alone," Geto murmurs, horrified.

Venom fills your mouth. "I have been since I was sixteen, thanks for asking. You think I didn't notice that you two were together? You never even said anything to me and I still figured it out." Gojo's face pales but you plow forward. "It was always Satoru and Suguru, Gojo and Geto, but what about me? I was there too, wasn't I?" Blood drips down your palms; you're digging your nails in hard enough to cut. "You two forgot about me. You discarded me, left me behind. Did you really think so little of me? Did you really think I would treat you like everyone else in this town?" You can see the pain in Geto's eyes. "As if it wasn't enough, I had to see you everywhere. It's nice seeing how quickly both of you replaced me with other women."

Gojo calls your name but you shake your head, vision blurring. "Go fuck yourself, both of you. Don't talk to me. I wish you'd never come back." Whirling back inside, you slam the door, ignoring the frantic banging and shouts. As you sink to the floor, you finally allow yourself to sob, curled up against the solid wood doorframe. I thought it was over, you think miserably. But somehow it hurts more than the day they left.

#haerinwrites #idol!satoru gojo #rockstar!suguru geto #satoru gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #suguru x reader x satoru #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #jjk angst #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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badsweetangel · 5 months ago

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Could you do a headcanon of the 2017 bowers gang saw the new girl in town and they saw she was a crazy bitch like worse then patrick but they saw she was dating a guy who was more kind and just not tough like them and they saw the reader would kill anyone who hurts her man please

Troublemaker (Bowers gang x reader)

Warnings: Typical canon violence, bad language, boys are not gentlemen lol

You were on top of that stupid bitch who bothered your boyfriend.

You didn't really know why she did it, you didn't care why she would want to do that to herself and dare to speak to what was yours.

At this point you had already lost your mind, you didn't listen to what she was saying to you. It didn't matter what she was saying to you.

Your boyfriend was visibly upset in the cafeteria and although he tried to hide it because he knew what you were like, in the end he ended up saying that there was a girl who was bothering him. That simple phrase made you lose your mind.

You didn't say anything else during the entire lunch time.

Your boyfriend didn't want to say anything else either, it wasn't good to talk to you when you were like that. Afterwards, you said goodbye and told him that you had a lot to do and you didn't have time for the two of you. He assumed it was a lie. He knew. But he didn't say anything to you.

It hadn't gone so well the last time he had suggested you stop being such a troublemaker.

Troublemaker.

He never said that word again.

You followed the girl to her house and when she got far enough away, that's when you pounced on her. And there you both were. It was almost curfew and you both knew it. You could see the fear growing in her eyes. When there was no one in the town of Derry, truly dangerous things happened. It was a feeling in the air that you could feel, you knew bad things would happen and at this point, the girl just accepted her fate. You dug your nails into her cheeks, leaving completely visible marks. She whined at the pain. But she didn't know this was just beginning. You hit her head against the floor a couple of times. She cried and suffered.

Once curfew came, you started. You pulled a knife out of your pocket and she immediately reacted, trying to get you off of her.

You knew the message was still not clear.

You hit her head several more times until she had no energy to continue fighting. Once things were as you had planned, you took out the lighter. With the little energy she had left, she tried to fight. You lit it and brought it closer to her face.

“Hey, you’re in the way here, bitch” You heard a voice behind you. You turned around and immediately knew who it was. Everyone knew who it was.

“Go away, Bowers” You said.

And he didn’t like that at all.

Two boys grabbed you from both sides and leaned you against the bridge. You looked at the girl, you couldn’t let her get away. It’s the only thing you could think about at the moment. Your anger increases, you were literally just starting and these idiots decide to stop you because they thought the place was theirs.

“You idiots, can you stop what you’re doing? I’m in the middle of something” You said, not being able to take notice of Henry’s angry face.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, bitch?” Henry said, visibly upset.

You left the girl aside and started looking at them. There were four of them. You had just become aware. You could literally die here. Even though you were scared, you tried not to show it. You could have dealt with this in some way in other situations. You really had no limits. But there were four of them. The most feared gang in Derry had you cornered on the kiss bridge because you thought of answering Henry wrong. You had certainly been an idiot today. On top of that, you didn’t even finish the job, the bitch needed to know why you were there in the first place. Wrong, everything had gone wrong.

And that made your anger increase again. You couldn’t leave this like this and much less did you want to die there. But first you had to get away and then, finish. However, everyone was distracted for a moment when the girl began to get up and try to leave. Escape. And that was a no-no.

“Fucking idiots, let me kill that bitch and then do whatever you want to do.” You tried to get them to let you go, but nothing seemed to work.

And when you saw Patrick’s eyes you knew something was going to happen.

“Let her do it,” he said, visibly excited.

“What the hell are you saying, idiot?” Bowers yelled at him with an angry shout.

“Yeah, we have a deal.” Patrick shrugged, taking advantage of the situation.

Henry looked at him and Hockstetter knew he only had a few seconds to speak before Henry just snapped.

“Let her do it and then we can do whatever we want with her,” he said smiling.

You didn’t even understand how Henry agreed to that. But you knew Patrick could recognize a lunatic when he saw one and he was visibly interested.

Well, that’s better than nothing.

#bowers gang x reader #Patrick hockstetter x reader #henry bowers x reader #victor criss x reader #Belch huggins x reader #bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #it 2017 #it chapter one #it chapter 1 #patrick hocksetter x reader

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kaces-graham-crackers · 1 month ago

Text

Stirring the Quiet - Behind the Curtains

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N's day at The Daily Grind takes a turn when Emma Myers and Melissa Barrera drop by for coffee, only to put her through an intense "interrogation" as part of a method-acting experiment. Shaken but honest, Y/N navigates the surprise encounter with grace. Later, Jenna learns about her friends' little test, leaving her blushing and flustered—but also even more impressed with Y/N's sincerity.

Word Count: 5.5k

I walked back into my apartment, the door shutting softly behind me, but it felt like I was in a daze. Jenna's words kept echoing in my head, that look she gave me—it was like I had been hit by something I couldn't quite process. My heart was still racing, my palms sweaty as I stood there for a moment, trying to calm myself down.

The smell of pizza and something else delicious filled the apartment, and I could hear my brothers in the kitchen, talking and laughing. Mr. Noodles’ little meow followed, adding to the noise. I barely registered any of it, though. My mind was still stuck on Jenna. "You're different. And I mean that in a good way."

Was she really interested in me? Really?

Shaking my head, I made my way toward the kitchen, feeling like I was in some weird dream.

Marcus was standing by the counter, tossing pizza dough into the air like he was some kind of professional chef, a smug grin on his face. Caleb was leaning against the stove, watching chicken sizzle in the pan, probably for pizza toppings. Mr. Noodles had somehow managed to jump up onto Marcus’s shoulder, his tiny paws pressing against the side of Marcus’s head as if he was trying to get in on the action.

As I stepped into the kitchen, Marcus noticed me first. “Yo, Y/N! You back already?” he called out, his grin faltering as he glanced at me. His hands stopped mid-toss. “Whoa, wait. You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

Caleb turned around at that, his brow furrowed as he took me in. “Yeah, you look kind of pale. What happened? You sick or something?”

I blinked, finally registering their concerned expressions. I must’ve looked worse than I felt.

“I—uh, no, I’m fine,” I said, my voice a little shaky as I tried to shake off the daze. “I’m... just processing.”

Marcus, ever the joker, chuckled. “Processing what? Did you see Jenna's ghost or something? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. That girl has an aura.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on their teasing to ground myself. But they were right. I did feel like I’d seen a ghost, only the ghost was the realization that maybe—just maybe—Jenna liked me as more than a friend.

I leaned against the doorway, running a hand through my hair. “It’s... complicated.”

Caleb’s serious expression didn’t waver as he stepped closer, the concern still etched on his face. “Complicated how? Something happen tonight? Was it Jenna?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know how to explain this without sounding ridiculous, but I had to say something. My brothers were good at reading me, and it wasn’t like I could hide anything from them.

“Yeah,” I said finally, exhaling as I stared at the floor. “Something happened.”

Marcus gently shifted Mr. Noodles off his shoulder, the cat landing gracefully on the counter next to the pizza dough. “Well, spit it out. What happened?”

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it, not entirely sure how to phrase what I was feeling. “She... I think she’s interested in me. Like... really interested.”

The kitchen fell silent for a moment as both my brothers processed what I’d just said. Caleb’s expression softened with understanding, while Marcus’s face broke into a knowing grin.

“Well, well, well,” Marcus said, tossing the dough back onto the counter. “Took her long enough to realize how awesome you are.”

I huffed out a small laugh, but Caleb wasn’t done.

“Wait, so when you say she’s interested, do you mean she actually told you or...?” Caleb asked, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed. “Because that’s kind of a big deal, Y/N.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the weight of their stares. “She didn’t outright say it, but... it was in the way she looked at me. The way she said I was ‘different’ in a good way.” I shrugged, feeling suddenly small under their gazes. “I don’t know. It felt... like more than just friends, you know?”

Marcus leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter. “Oh yeah. I know that look. That’s definitely something.”

Caleb nodded, more thoughtful than Marcus’s laid-back reaction. “That’s... wow. I mean, are you ready for something like that? I know you’ve been cautious about all of this.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, more to myself than them. “I’m just... trying to process it.”

Marcus clapped me on the back, a wide grin still plastered on his face. “Hey, if she’s into you, that’s huge. You just need to figure out what you want, sis. Don’t overthink it.”

Easier said than done

I watched as Mr. Noodles casually stretched out on the counter next to the leftover flour-covered dough Marcus had abandoned. Amused, I kept my eyes on him as he stretched his little paws out and started kneading the dough, his tiny claws pressing into it like he was trying to knead the dough himself.

Marcus caught sight of it too, bursting into laughter. “Look at this! Mr. Noodles thinks he’s a chef now!”

I chuckled, watching the cat’s surprisingly focused effort. “Looks like he’s kneading his own pizza. You better be careful, Marcus—he might take your job.”

Caleb glanced over, shaking his head with a grin. “At least someone’s contributing. Who knew we had a master chef on our hands?”

Mr. Noodles, fully engrossed in his little task, meowed softly, as if he understood we were talking about him. His kneading was strangely hypnotic, each little press of his paws into the dough almost rhythmic.

“Who knew making pizza required such precision?” Marcus teased, gently pulling the dough away from the determined feline. “Alright, chef, time for a break.”

Mr. Noodles protested with a soft meow, but he allowed Marcus to nudge him away, his little baking session cut short.

“Next time, I’ll let him handle the dough,” Marcus joked, placing the now-pawed dough aside with a smirk.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation lightening the heavy thoughts swirling in my head. For a brief moment, despite my whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, the sight of him made me smile. He always had a way of grounding me, reminding me that sometimes life didn’t have to be so complicated.

“Yeah, I guess I just need time to think,” I said, glancing at my brothers. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Caleb nodded, his serious expression softening as he turned back to the stove, flipping the chicken in the pan. “Take all the time you need. But don’t leave her hanging. If she likes you, you should give it a shot.”

Marcus, on the other hand, was already back to tossing his dough again. “Yeah, but don’t wait too long. Jenna seems like the type who doesn’t play games.”

I snorted. “You don’t know the half of it.”

The three of us fell into a comfortable silence after that, the sounds of sizzling chicken and dough slapping against the counter filling the air. I was grateful for the distraction. As my brothers finished making the pizza, I helped set the table, all the while trying to organize my thoughts.

What did I want? Could I really see myself being more than just friends with Jenna? Did I even want that? The feelings were so new and unexpected that it was hard to wrap my head around them.

As we sat down to eat, Marcus cut the pizza into uneven slices, and we passed the plates around. Mr. Noodles, ever the opportunist, hopped up on the table, eyeing the chicken toppings.

“Dude, seriously?” Marcus groaned, trying to gently nudge him off the table. Mr. Noodles meowed in protest but eventually jumped down, retreating to his food bowl. “That cat has no shame.”

I laughed, grateful for the moment of normalcy. “You leave him alone. He’s just hungry.”

As we ate, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—Marcus’s job at the gym, Caleb’s latest project at work—but in the back of my mind, Jenna was still there. Her smile, her touch, that look she gave me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

After dinner, I retreated to my room, flopping down on my bed with a sigh. My phone was next to me, tempting me to reach out to Jenna, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to rush anything, not yet.

Instead, I grabbed my laptop and pulled up a movie—something mindless to distract myself from overthinking. Mr. Noodles curled up at the foot of my bed, his purring the only sound in the room as I let the movie play in the background.

But even as the movie ran, I couldn’t help but replay the night in my head. The way Jenna’s hug lingered, how close she stood to me, the warmth in her voice when she said, “You’re... different.”

I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a while, I felt... hopeful.

Maybe this was the start of something good

I was back at work at The Daily Grind, feeling unusually calm considering the whirlwind of thoughts Jenna had left me with. I kept myself busy, making drinks and tidying up the counter, but my mind couldn’t help but wander back to that hug—the way Jenna had looked at me and the things she had said. It was clear now that Jenna was interested in me, and the idea both excited and unnerved me.

The bell above the café door chimed, and I glanced up out of habit. To my mild surprise, in walked Emma Myers and Melissa Barrera, looking every bit the movie stars they were. I straightened up, maintaining my usual casual vibe as I greeted them.

"Hey, Welcome to The Daily Grind. What can I get for you?" I asked, keeping things professional but laid-back.

Emma leaned against the counter, flashing an easy smile. "I'll have a caramel macchiato. Heard you make a good one."

I nodded, entering the order. “You heard right.” I looked over to Melissa, who was studying the menu.

"I'll take a latte with almond milk," Melissa added with a soft smile, giving off a calm, cool aura.

I rang them up without missing a beat, but as I handed them their change, Emma glanced down at my name tag. “Thanks, Y/N,” she said casually.

I blinked, feeling a twinge of surprise. "Wait... how do you know my name?"

Emma grinned, pointing at my name badge. “It’s right there,” she said with a wink.

I smirked, realizing how caught off guard I had been. “Right. That makes sense.” I turned to prepare their drinks, and in a few minutes, handed them over with a nod. “Enjoy.”

Instead of heading straight for a table, Emma looked back at me. “Why don’t you join us when you get a chance? Just for a chat.”

I raised an eyebrow but shrugged casually. “Sure, why not?”

Once my work was done and I had a moment, I grabbed a water and joined them at a booth. The energy between the actresses had shifted slightly from friendly to something a little more intense. I tried to shake it off, taking a seat across from them.

“So, Y/N,” Melissa began, her tone more serious now. “Tell us about yourself.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere. "Uh, not much to tell," I replied evenly. "I work here, I read in my free time, I’m just doing my thing."

Emma smiled, but there was a sharpness behind it. “What about your childhood? Were you always the ‘doing my thing’ type?”

I let out a nervous chuckle, my confidence beginning to falter. “I was pretty quiet as a kid. Kept to myself, liked reading, drawing—normal stuff. Yeah, I guess I’ve always been a little low-key.”

The questions kept coming, bouncing between Emma and Melissa. They dug into my job, my childhood, my habits, and my personality. I could feel the unease building in my chest. Their expressions had turned serious—too serious—and I felt my confidence slipping away, replaced by something cold, something like fear. It was as if I was being interrogated, and I couldn't figure out why.

Then Melissa leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she stared at me. “Tell me something, Y/N… have you ever taken advantage of kind people? You know, someone who’s maybe a little rich, a little vulnerable. Played with their heart?”

My brow furrowed, my mind processing the question. “N-no, I wouldn’t do that,” I stammered, my voice a little shaky now. “I’ve actually been in situations where I was the one being used. People have taken advantage of my kindness or money before. Pretended to care, you know? And it sucked. I know how that feels, so I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

Melissa’s gaze remained locked on me, her expression unreadable. I shifted uncomfortably, my hands gripping my water bottle as I tried to steady myself. Emma, who had been quiet for a moment, seemed almost emotional, her eyes glistening.

“You’re being honest,” Melissa said, her tone still sharp, though her eyes had softened.

“Y-yeah, of course I am,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel my face heating up, my heart pounding in my chest. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Emma let out a breath, her gaze softening as she wiped at her eyes. “You’re good, Y/N.”

I glanced between them, my confusion growing. “Okay, but seriously… what was that about? Why all the deep questions?”

Melissa and Emma exchanged a glance, then laughed, the tension in the air suddenly dissipating. “We’re sorry,” Melissa said, shaking her head. “We were practicing for a new film. We play these intense characters, and we needed to test out an intimidation tactic.”

I blinked, my confusion turning to relief, mixed with lingering unease. “Wait, so… that was an act? You were practicing on me?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, still chuckling. “We thought it would be fun to randomly choose a place and test our new character tactic on the first person we saw. You know, method acting and all that. Plus, you handled it really well.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, a shaky smile forming on my lips. “Well, I’m glad I could help. You really had me there for a minute.”

Melissa gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry for being so intense. Thanks for playing along, though.”

“No problem,” I replied, though my hands were still trembling slightly as I set my water down.

As they finished up their drinks, the actresses stood to leave. Emma gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Thanks again, Y/N. We owe you one.”

I watched them walk out, feeling a mix of humor and residual anxiety. It had been a strange encounter, but it made for an interesting—if unnerving—day at work. I shook my head, a small smile on my face.

“Just another day at The Daily Grind,” I muttered to myself, heading back behind the counter.

The private dining room of one of L.A.’s most exclusive restaurants, La Maison Privée, was bathed in soft golden light. It was a place where only the elite dined, a gem in the city where celebrities could gather without the intrusion of fans or cameras. The kind of place where even the staff operated with the utmost discretion. The tables were dressed in crisp white linens, the soft hum of quiet conversation filling the elegant space.

Jenna sat comfortably, a glass of sparkling water in her hand, casually chatting with Emma and Melissa. They had all decided to meet up for dinner after a busy day, enjoying the rare moment where they could hang out like regular friends, even if the setting was far from ordinary.

Emma leaned back in her chair, glancing at the menu. "I still can’t get used to how fancy this place is,” she said with a grin. “Like, I feel like I’m underdressed even though I’m wearing something I thought was way too expensive."

Jenna chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. "I know, right? I always feel like we should be sitting here in ball gowns or something, but then I remember half the people here are in hoodies and designer sneakers. It’s a weird mix of casual and high-end."

Melissa, who had been browsing the menu, set it down and smiled. "Well, I’m definitely not complaining. It's good to hang out like this. I've been so swamped lately with shooting, I haven't had a decent meal that wasn’t craft services in weeks."

Jenna nodded in agreement, her mind drifting for a moment to her own schedule. "Yeah, it’s been pretty wild for me too. I’ve got a couple of projects lined up—nothing I can talk about yet, of course—but let’s just say my schedule is going to get even crazier soon."

Emma raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A new show, or…?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Jenna grinned, shaking her head. "Nice try, but no spoilers. I’m not even sure if I’m going to be fully involved yet—it’s more of a potential cameo situation. But it’s exciting, and I’ll let you know as soon as I can."

Melissa smirked. "Sounds mysterious. You’re always good at keeping us in suspense, Jenna."

Jenna gave a playful shrug, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. "It’s part of the job. Gotta keep things under wraps until the official announcements come through. But yeah, it’s something that could be a lot of fun. You’ll both love it if it works out."

The conversation flowed naturally between them, moving from upcoming projects to everyday life. Emma, her usual bubbly self, started talking about a new hobby she had picked up.

"So, I started gardening," Emma said, laughing as she fiddled with her fork. "I know, it sounds super random, but it’s actually really relaxing. I have a whole bunch of plants now—some of them are even still alive."

Jenna smiled warmly, leaning back in her chair. "That’s awesome, Emma. I’ve always wanted to try that, but I’m pretty sure I’d kill everything I planted."

"Same," Melissa chimed in, shaking her head. "I’m more of a ‘keep it artificial so I don’t have to worry about it’ kind of person."

Emma shrugged, grinning. "It’s all about balance, right? I figure if I can keep one plant alive, I’ve done my job."

Jenna laughed softly, her mind momentarily drifting back to her hectic day before this peaceful moment. She had been so consumed with her schedule lately that she hadn't had much time for herself. And now, sitting here with her friends, enjoying the quiet company, it was a refreshing change from the constant rush of the spotlight.

"Honestly, just having moments like this is what keeps me sane," Jenna said after a moment of reflection. "It’s nice to just... slow down and not worry about the next thing for a little while."

Melissa nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you’ve got to take those breaks when you can. This industry will eat you alive if you don’t."

They paused as the server arrived to take their orders. After some light banter with the waiter about the best dishes on the menu, they ordered their meals—each of them opting for something light but deliciously indulgent.

As the server left, Emma leaned forward again, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "So, Jenna, what’s your day-to-day like lately? Are you still doing your early morning runs?"

Jenna smiled and nodded. "Yeah, when I can. It’s become a bit of a routine for me now. Clears my head, and I feel like I can tackle anything afterward. Plus, it's one of the few times I get to be completely alone."

"Alone in the middle of L.A.?" Melissa raised an eyebrow.

"Well, alone enough," Jenna clarified with a laugh. "I’ve got my route down, and the early mornings are quiet. Not many people are out yet."

Emma smiled, looking thoughtful. "I get that. It’s good to have that time for yourself, especially when things get crazy."

The conversation continued, seamlessly moving from one topic to the next, the mood light and friendly. It felt like any other casual hangout, despite the lavish surroundings. Jenna loved these moments, where she could just be herself without the weight of her career pressing down on her. Here, in this private, secluded space, they could relax and enjoy each other's company without the world watching.

The plates of food arrived, and the three women dug in, the conversation turning to light gossip about Hollywood and their mutual friends. They laughed about awkward red carpet moments, shared stories about on-set mishaps, and gushed over the most recent fashion trends they were obsessed with.

As they enjoyed their meals, the conversation naturally shifted to their day, with Emma and Melissa chatting about their recent activities. It wasn’t long before the topic of Y/N came up, almost nonchalantly at first.

“Oh, speaking of running into people,” Melissa began, cutting a piece of her grilled fish. “Emma and I stopped by The Daily Grind earlier today. You know, the little coffee spot near Mystic Lens Studios?”

Jenna, in the middle of sipping her drink, raised an eyebrow curiously. “Really? What were you guys doing there?”

Emma grinned, setting her fork down as if she’d been waiting for the perfect moment to share this. “Well, we had a little… chat with your friend Y/N.”

Jenna’s face immediately flushed pink, her eyes widening as she set her glass down a little too hard on the table. “Wait, what? You—what did you do?”

Melissa chuckled, shaking her head, but Emma continued, her tone lighthearted. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything crazy. Y/N is so nice, by the way. Super polite, genuine, all the good things. We just had a little conversation, you know, to get a sense of her character.”

Jenna’s face was now a deep shade of red, her embarrassment growing as the realization of what her friends had done hit her. “You didn’t… intimidate her, did you?” She turned to Emma, eyes wide with disbelief. “You? Since when are you part of Melissa’s intimidation squad?”

Emma laughed, waving her hands in defense. “I know, I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You’ve been talking about Y/N a lot lately, and well, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to see for myself if Y/N was as great as you say.”

Melissa chimed in, her tone nonchalant but amused. “We didn’t go that hard, Jenna. Just a little grilling, that’s all. She handled it really well, though—answered all our questions, didn’t flinch or back down. Very impressive.”

Jenna groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you two. When I gush about someone, you’re supposed to trust my judgment! Not go all ‘good cop, bad cop’ on them.”

Emma reached across the table, her expression more apologetic now. “We weren’t trying to scare her. Honestly, Y/N was super sweet and sincere. I think we just got a little carried away.”

Melissa nodded, her expression softening as well. “Yeah, we meant no harm. Besides, Y/N seems like a good person. But, just so you know,” she added, her voice lowering slightly, “if Y/N ever hurts you, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

Jenna glanced between them, her embarrassment easing a little but still present. She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “You guys are ridiculous. But… thanks, I guess. Just don’t go around doing that to every person I introduce you to.”

Emma smiled sheepishly, and Melissa chuckled softly. “We promise,” Melissa said. “But, Jenna, you know we’ve got your back. We just wanted to be sure Y/N was everything you’ve said.”

Jenna couldn’t help but smile, even though she was still blushing. “Okay, okay. But next time, just trust me, alright? Y/N’s a good person. I wouldn’t hang out with her if she wasn’t.”

Emma raised her hand in mock surrender. “Scout’s honor.”

Melissa smirked. “Consider it noted.”

The tension eased as the trio shared a laugh, the mood returning to its earlier lightheartedness. But deep down, Jenna couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth at how much her friends cared, even if they had their unorthodox ways of showing it.

She was grateful for them, but also secretly relieved that Y/N had passed their impromptu “test” with flying colors.

As they continued their dinner, Jenna made a mental note to apologize to Y/N later—though part of her couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of her friends playing interrogator.

After their dinner, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but Jenna’s mind remained partially fixated on the encounter her friends had with Y/N. She felt a mix of relief and embarrassment, wondering how Y/N had handled the grilling and whether she had sensed what was really going on. Jenna trusted Y/N, but the idea of her friends putting her through some kind of “test” still lingered in her mind.

As the evening wrapped up, Jenna said goodbye to Emma and Melissa at the entrance of the exclusive restaurant. Greg and Will brought her car around, and after exchanging a few more lighthearted jokes with her friends, she got into the back seat, her thoughts drifting back to Y/N as she drove through the quiet streets of L.A.

The next morning, Jenna woke up early. She had a few hours free before her schedule picked up with meetings and appointments, but her mind was on one thing. She knew she should probably talk to Y/N about what had happened, if only to clear the air and explain what her friends had done.

Jenna grabbed her phone, hesitating for a moment before typing out a quick text:

Jenna: Hey, morning! Free to hang out today?

She stared at the screen for a second before pressing send. Jenna felt an odd flutter in her chest. Things had shifted between her and Y/N after that night—there was no denying it. Y/N had clearly been affected by the lingering hug, the look they shared, and the words she’d said. And Jenna… well, Jenna had been thinking about that moment far more than she’d expected.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Y/N: Hey! Yeah, I’ve got some time this afternoon. What’s up?

Jenna smiled and typed back quickly.

Jenna: Just wanted to catch up. Maybe grab coffee?

Y/N: Sounds good! Same place as usual?

Jenna: Perfect. See you there at 2?

With the plan set, Jenna got ready, her mind swirling with thoughts of what to say, how to bring up the strange "interrogation" without making Y/N feel uncomfortable, and—most of all—what this all meant for the two of them.

Later that afternoon, Jenna arrived at The Daily Grind, their usual meeting spot. The familiar, cozy atmosphere welcomed her, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. She spotted Y/N behind the counter, preparing drinks for a few customers, and Jenna couldn't help but smile to herself, but something in the back of her mind still nagged her about what her friends might've done.

Y/N looked up and noticed her, waving with a small smile as she finished up an order. Jenna grabbed a table by the window, a spot they often sat at when they hung out here. A few minutes later, Y/N appeared with two drinks in hand—a caramel macchiato for Jenna and a cappuccino for herself.

“Hey, Jenna,” Y/N greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Jenna replied, her eyes lingering on Y/N a little longer than usual. “How about you? Busy day?”

Y/N shrugged, smiling. “Not too bad. Just the usual caffeine addicts and students cramming for finals.”

Jenna nodded, taking a sip of her drink, but couldn’t shake her curiosity. “So, anything interesting happen this week?”

Y/N thought for a moment, tapping her fingers on the table. “Actually, yeah. A couple of actresses came in the other day—Melissa Barrera and Emma Myers. You know them?”

Jenna froze for a second, cringing internally. She had a sinking feeling about where this was going. “Yeah… I’ve heard of them,” she said cautiously. “How did that go?”

Y/N chuckled nervously, clearly still a bit taken aback by the encounter. “Well, it was strange, to be honest. They ordered their drinks, then asked me to sit down with them. Next thing I know, they’re asking me all these personal questions—like, about my job, childhood, habits, that kind of stuff. At first, I thought it was just friendly conversation, but then it got kind of... intense. Melissa especially.”

Jenna cringed visibly this time, putting her drink down. “Intense? How?”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, exhaling. “It felt like an interrogation. Melissa gave me this look, like she was trying to read into my soul or something. She even asked if I ever take advantage of kind people or play with people’s emotions.”

Jenna winced, looking away for a moment. “Oh no…”

“Yeah,” Y/N continued, unaware of Jenna’s reaction.

Y/N gave her a small smile, running a hand through her hair nervously. “I told them, girls have taken advantage of my kindness and money before.”

Jenna cringed at the thought, feeling an immediate wave of warmth—and discomfort—wash over her. There it is again—that gentle pull toward Y/N, something that seemed to grow stronger every time they were together. She tried to fight off the blush creeping into her cheeks but couldn't help the way her chest tightened, the mixture of admiration and protectiveness swelling up inside her.

Y/N wasn’t like anyone Jenna had ever known. Hollywood was full of people with ambition, many of them willing to do anything to get ahead. But Y/N was different. There was an openness to her that Jenna found disarming. It wasn’t about impressing anyone or hiding behind layers of pretense. Y/N was raw, sincere, and completely herself.

There’s something about her, Jenna thought, her gaze softening as she listened to Y/N speak. It wasn’t just that Y/N could make her laugh or the way their conversations felt so natural, but it was how grounded she was, how she carried this quiet strength beneath her calm demeanor. Jenna could see the pain in Y/N’s eyes as she talked about her past, as she confessed how others had taken advantage of her kindness. The vulnerability there tugged at Jenna’s heart.

I like her, Jenna admitted silently, a flutter in her stomach as the realization settled in.But love? That was a word that carried too much weight. It was something Jenna wasn’t quite ready for, not yet. The mere thought of it made her chest tighten, though not in a bad way. There was something deep between them, that much was undeniable. But love was... complicated.

Still, Y/N had a quality Jenna couldn’t ignore. She admired how honest Y/N was, how even in the face of discomfort—like being subtly tested by her friends—she remained sincere and kind. There was no façade, no mask. She’s real, Jenna thought. And in a world that often felt shallow and transactional, that authenticity was like a breath of fresh air.

She realized that maybe it wasn’t love just yet, but it was definitely something close. Something worth holding onto.Whatever it was between them, it was worth exploring—slowly, carefully. Jenna would let it unfold at its own pace, savoring every moment and not rushing anything. After all, the best things in life often took time.

For now, she’d enjoy every second with Y/N. She shot her a warm smile, trying to shake off the lingering nervousness from the earlier conversation. “Well, they liked you, Y/N,” Jenna said, her voice softening as she looked at her. “They just have their ways of making sure the people I care about are good people.”

Y/N blinked, clearly still processing everything that had happened. “I guess that makes sense.” She smiled back, clearly relieved the conversation had taken a lighter turn. “I’m glad I passed.”

Jenna chuckled, feeling her heart swell again. You passed with flying colors, she thought, though she didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she reached out, giving Y/N a gentle squeeze on the arm before standing up.

"Come on, let's grab a bite before I end up spilling any more of my secrets," Jenna teased, trying to push aside the intensity of her own thoughts.

As they walked out together, Jenna found herself glancing at Y/N from time to time, that same warm feeling fluttering through her. She might not be ready to say it aloud, but there was no doubt in her mind—Y/N was special.

#jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x fem reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x y/n #slow-burn #tara carpenter x female reader

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threepandas · 5 months ago

Text

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

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the-guilty-writer · 5 months ago

Note

Aaron x daughter!reader,

His daughter is a cane user and she has a bad day pain wise?

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Just like your father, you'd always been stoic, easily able to hide your pain from the outside world. It was something Aaron always had to keep in mind, how you'd push through and never speak a word about your discomfort. He'd always seen the characteristic in himself as a blessing, but in you he viewed it as a curse to himself.

There were times when you couldn't hide it, though. Usually you were well past a manageable pain level when it happened, and Aaron beat himself up for not noticing sooner. He'd never thought the hardest person to profile would be his own daughter, but apparently you were. People didn't see what you didn't want them to see, including your father.

Today, however, you'd reached your breaking point, hardly able to get out of bed, even with the help of your cane. You had tried, of course, but the gravity of your pain had been too much to bear. The sound of Jack's bare feet running past your door reminded you of the day to come, how your brother approached everything in stride with a smile on his face.

You tried your best to do the same, but you could only do what your body allowed.

A soft knock landed on your door and you called to invite whomever it was in.

"Morning, sweetheart." Your dad peeked his head through the door, his brow already furrowed with concern.

"G'morning," you mumbled out the words.

Aaron padded into the room, closing the door behind him. He stayed as quiet as possible, not wanting to draw attention from Jack, who would have wanted to stay for the conversation.

Your dad sat down on the bed, running a gentle hand through your hair. The gesture was something he'd done since you were a little girl, one of calm and quiet understanding.

"Do you want to stay home today?" he asked.

"No." Truthfully, you didn't want to stay home. Want implied that it was something you could give or take, a choice. If you could have chosen to go to school, you would have, but your body didn't allow that kind of liberation.

"Do you need to stay home today?" Aaron re-phrased.

You didn't have the energy to speak this time, managing a slight nod.

"Okay." He kissed your forehead before exiting the room quietly.

As soon as he left, you fell into a state of half-sleep, unable to reach full rest due to the pain coursing through your body. It was like some sort of horribly sick joke that you needed sleep to aid the ache, yet it kept you from sleeping in the first place.

The sound of the front door opening, your dad talking to JJ, her leaving with the boys in tow, all happened in a haze. It was only when your dad’s footsteps ascended the stairs that you were able to pull yourself from the fog.

A quiet knock on the door brought you out of your head and into your body. Gentle footsteps sounded against the carpet until you felt the bed dip slightly, followed by a gentle hand tucking loose hairs away from your face.

You opened your eyes slowly, being met with resistance from your own body that so desperately wanted to block out the light. Pain made it difficult to process your surroundings, but once you did, the sight of your dad in his normal house clothes surprised you.

"Don't you have work?"

"Nope." He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Anderson is bringing me some files, but I'm staying home with you."

"You didn't have to do that." It came out as a painful whisper.

"I wanted to." Hotch reached for the bedside table, grabbing a cup with a straw. "Can you try just a little?"

He helped you prop yourself up against the pillows and held the straw to your lips. The taste of a fruit smoothie filled danced along your taste buds, and slowly but surely you were able to consume half the contents of the cup. When you were done, you pushed it away slightly and laid back down, your dad tucking you in just as the doorbell rang.

"I'll check on you in a bit. Promise to call if you need anything?" he asked.

You nodded your head, eyes already closed, mind in a half-sleep.

Hotch kissed you on the forehead gently and left the room, closing the door quietly so as to not disturb your rest. He could only hope that sleep (and pain medication) would allow you to begin the day again in a few hours.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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melancholiaincarnate · 5 months ago

Text

hell-bent

warnings: brief descriptions of pain and injuries

note: helloo :3 this is another little ficlet to this fic . im going to make a series masterlist - eventually - but i cannot be bothered to do so right now. anyways - if u wanna see more of them lmk or send in requests hehehehehe

"oh she is the cutest!" feyre swoons, her arms extending towards the child that's hiding behind temperance.

"say hi, piper." you look down and behind your legs to where the girl is clutching onto your pant thighs. though she's got a small fear in her eyes, she still peeks out slightly, taking in the view of your family. five very intense pairs of eyes stare back at her. "it's okay, pip." you whisper, "they're my family."

"hello everyone." she says softly, her voice no higher than the squeak of a small kitchen mouse. "where's azzy?" she questions, looking up and big eyes stare at you.

rhys looks at feyre, a knowing smirk playing upon his face, and a matching one on hers. they've both got that look in their eyes that they get when they're communicating through the bond - you roll your eyes knowing that they're never going to let azriel live down the nickname.

"he'll be here soon. he's just a little busy right now." you smooth down her hair with a gentle hand and she frowns, stepping behind you more as cassian approaches, a grin on his features.

"since when do you have a kid?" he questions, crouching down to eye level with piper. he cranes his neck to attempt to see her but she tucks herself behind you even more. "ooh! lemme guess the father. lemme guess - it's az, isn't it! i always knew you two were fucking."

"she's not mine. and watch your mouth." you huff, kicking cassian lightly and he topples over. "remember the mission rhys sent me on?" cassian nods from his spot on the floor. "i found her." you wince at your choice of words - you definitely could've phrased that better. piper seems to be unaffected by your words, instead choosing to let her shadows sniff out cassian.

"what do you mean you found her? you can't just take people's kids, dude. that's super illegal." cassian scoffs, "how do you 'find' a kid and just take her? rhys, that has to be illegal-" he sits up, but his eyes furrow as he sees little tendrils of black whirling around his arms. "isn't that-"

"there's another shadowsinger in velaris." rhys muses from his spot at the table. "we thought it best for her to come here and train here with our shadowsinger."

"so you just.. took her?" cassian looks bewildered, "dude.. this high lord shit has to have some rules to it. you can't just take kids!" he stands up, stretching, before peeking around your legs to see pip staring back at him. "hi." he grins, "i'm cassian." then, he bends down to whisper, "i'm kind of the coolest one here. everyone else here sucks."

"pip, don't listen to him. he's a moron." you sigh and hear little giggles from behind you, whispers of shadows trailing up your arms. there was one shadow though, that stayed nestled in your neck. it didn't belong to the girl, no, it was one of azriel's shadows that had seemed to take a strong liking to you and preferred you over its master.

"you're very silly mr. cassian." she comments, peeking out a little more. you're grateful for cassian's resolve and the things he's seen - you don't know what you'd do if he made piper feel any worse about her current condition. you don't know what azriel would do if he found out that someone dared look at piper with disgust.

piper steps out and the inner circle holds their breaths. her left eye has a deep scratch on it that stretches from her eyebrow to right underneath her eye. it seems to be healing well, but it settles painfully in everyone's gut to see such a large scar on a pure face.

the rest of her face is filled with smaller scratches. thankfully ones that won't scar. no one's seen it yet - but if piper turned around there would be a missing pair of wings on her back.

no one comments. based on the way cassian and rhys look - they're ready to kill whoever did this to this girl, and they'd only known her for less than an hour. even nesta, normally cold-faced, looks full of anger.

piper pulls on your pant leg and points to the table. you hold her hand and her limping does not go unnoticed by your family. she's relearning to walk without the weight of her wings - and feyre's eyes widen once she realizes.

piper's movements are stiff and the table is silent. for the first time in years, the entire house is silent.

conversation starts up as you help pile food onto piper's plate. despite her condition, her eyes still sparkle with glee. as soon as she puts her first spoon in her mouth, the door to the dining room opens and piper turns quickly,.

"azzy!" everyone is blown back by how loud her shriek is. they're even more surprised at how fast she manages to sprint across the dining room and into azriel's arms, despite her condition. "you came back!"

he picks her up, balancing her on one hip with ease. "told ya i would, pip." his voice is soft as he pats the top of her head. their shadows intertwine and zip around the two of them, as if they were doing their own catching up. "did you do your training today?"

"i did!" her movements have caught up to her and she leans against his legs for support, her breathing becoming labored. he notices, and shadows come to swirl around her legs, ready to catch her if she falls. "i walked all the way down the stairs today! by myself!"

the inner circle watches in awe as the shy little girl they'd just seen exploded into personality at the sight of the quiet and stoic spymaster. rhys smiles to himself - he knew that bringing the girl here was a good idea.

"that's great progress, pip." azriel's voice is laced with exhaustion. his eyes finally catch yours - but only because he felt the pool of your emotions in his chest. he nods softly at you, once to tell you he's okay, and he watches your shoulders relax. "tomorrow we're going to go to the healer's again. she wants to -" azriel glances at the inner court, "she wants to check up on you."

"okay." she smiles, "maybe we can walk there! and i can do it by myself this time!"

"i think you can do it, pip." azriel hums, "how about we go eat? i'm starving." he looks up at you, and smiles again, "and then we can go back to your room and finish that puzzle." "yes!" piper nods quickly, "yes, please!" she holds onto azriel's hand for support, and doesn't flinch when her hands touch his marred ones.

azriel sits between you and piper, his eyes watching every single person at the table as they interact with the girl. they may be his family, but if one person - even his own brothers, made a wrong move, he'd flip the table over. his protection for the girl ran deep - so much so that it worries him.

his shadows whisper that it's alright - his protection is justified. they whisper he'll never have to act to protect her, they'll do it for him. and they whisper that if he does have to act, it'll be justified. they whisper to him that the carnage he'd bring for this girl is justified.

so azriel lets his worries go. they're right.

#acotar azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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