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outsideratheart · 2 years ago

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I’ll protect you (Ana-Maria Crnogorcevic x reader)

Based off this request.

Have you ever met someone who you instantly have a connection with? Where it's like you knew each other in a past life and your first meeting is actual a reunion? That is the way you would describe the day you met Ana.

Now almost three years later the two are you are inseparable although neither one of you have confessed that you want your relationship to be more than platonic.

One of the things you loved about Ana was her commitment to the team and the Catalonian people. It came as a shock when she picked up Spanish as quickly as she did but it could be argued that it wasn't the student that was good, it was you the teacher.

Her passion carried over when Barcelona played Real Madrid, the legendary El Classico.

"Someone's excited" you spot Ana in her locker, her knee bouncing up and down.

"And you're not? I know you love this match just as much as me, if not more" Ana helps you tape your wrists, it was your first of many pre match rituals.

"I know that with Jenni gone and Alexia on the sidelines I am going to be their number one target"

In every El Classico so far, Real Madrid were predictable. They made it known very early on in the game who they wanted to take out. You enjoyed it and you loved any chance to tease your Madrid counterparts although they didn't find it fun getting beat time and time again.

"I'll protect you" Ana is deadly serious when she makes her promise to you.

"I can look out for myself. Focus on getting the ball in the back of the net"

History is sure to repeat itself as Barcelona find themselves 2-0 up just before half time. Madrid start to get desperate but it was to be expected and you warned the girls of this. Esther was no longer hiding her intention to hurt you and after the third of fourth tackle she got a yellow card. At this point you thought she would back off in fear of getting a second and then a red only this doesn't happen.

The half time whistle blows and instead of going into the locker room, you go straight for the woman that has been on your back the entire game.

"Keep going Esther. You know I have my limits and you are dangerously close" you body check her before walking away.

"I barely touched you. You just don't know how to play football without your friends. The whole world knows that you're struggling to play without Alexia and it is only a matter of time before they see that you're not worth the credit you get" Esther spits.

"Shut up or the next thing to come out of your mouth with be your teeth" Ana's presence startles you.

Esther continues rambling as she walks through the tunnel, her voice becoming quieter with every step she takes.

"She's right" you admit as you sink into your locker.

"No, she isn't and you'll prove her wrong when you go back out there and show the world just how good Y/N Y/L/N is"

Ana always has faith in you even when you didn't. Over the past few months you have doubted yourself more than ever but she was always there to remind you who you are.

In the second half you played with a new purpose, to show Esther who Spain's best forward was. With your confidence level at an all time high it led to Esther making more tackles than she did in the first half and every one she made got worse and worse.

Whilst you remain level headed you knew Ana was get close to blowing up. She liked to protect you whether that was in a nightclub when a stranger refused to take no for answer or like today when you're get getting hurt and nothing is being done about it.

The final nails on the Real Madrid coffin come in the form of two more goals, both coming from you. After the second one you saw the opportunity to taunt Esther and get in her head so after you finished celebrating with your team you look directly at her and do her signature celebration. You knew that it would anger her more but you no longer cared. There was only 7 minutes left on the clock, you could handle it.

Barcelona receive a corner which doesn't go to plan. Instead of football it becomes a game of ping pong, the ball going from head to head. You see it coming your way and you jump to head in the direction of the goal but at the last minute you see Esther coming towards with her foot high. Already in the air, you close your eyes and wait for her foot to hit your head only it doesn't, instead you feel her studs connect with your sternum.

The breath is knocked out of you, a mixture of the impact and the force in which you hit the floor.

"Y/N" Aitana tries to get your attention but your eyes remain shut as you try to focus on your breathing.

Something else that sticks out is the headache that comes thick and fast, you know you must have hit it on the floor when you fell. Your surroundings are a blur but you recognise the sound of the medics asking you question.

"I-can't-breathe" you say through laboured breaths.

"Try to stay still" one of them tells you.

"Ana" you use all your energy to call out for the one woman you want by your side.

"I'm here Y/N. Everything's going to be ok" Ana takes a hold of your hand. When she sees you close you eyes she squeezes you hand tightly so that you know she is there even if you can't see her.

Ana has never felt more helpless in her life. The medics cut open your shirt so they can asses the damage, it's something she wasn't ready to see. There in the middle of your chest was a boot print, some marking had even opened up and blood was trickling down your chest. You wince when you feel someone brush over the point of impact.

You swat the hand away immediately.

"Y/N let them do there job, please" you turn your attention to Ana. Her face is pale and you see a single tear roll down her cheek.

The medics lift you onto the stretcher, Ana remaining by your side the entire time. That is until she hears Esther speak ill of you, yet again, only this time she does something about it.

"At least now she gets to watch in the stands with dear La Reina" Esther jokes with her teammates only no one is laughing. Their faces drop when they see the Swiss international approaching them at speed.

"You're so insecure of your own abilities that you purposely try to hurt Y/N. You are a discrace and don't deserve to play football" Ana shoves Esther, sending her to the floor but she is soon back to her feet.

"Mierda!" Patri says as she runs after her team mate, others follow in suit.

Patri and Irene try their hardest to pull Ana away but nothing they do works.

"Come on" Patri begs.

"Don't let her get to you" Irene adds.

They both grab hold of her but she shrugs them off, clearly she wasn't done with the Madrid forward.

"You better hope she is ok or the next time we meet i'll--" Ana threatens only to be cut off.

"You'll do what?" Esther pushes Ana again.

This time Ana shoves her a lot harder than the first time and Esther hits the floor hard.

"You don't want to find out"

"Ana, walk away" Marta, who has been called over for extra help says "They are taking her to the hospital. Jona has got Mariona ready to sub in for you but if don't leave now you won't be able to go with Y/N"

This seems to work because Ana runs off the pitch without saying another word. She ignores the ref but thanks her coach when she gets to the side lines.

Later than night you are discharged from the hospital. After getting several scans you are told that you have a minor concussion due to the fall and a broken sternum thanks to Esther.

Ana accompanies you back to your apartment and insists on staying the night despite you telling her numerous times that you are fine. After all the doctors gave you some strong painkillers which reduced the pain significantly although you were warned that you would be very sore in the morning.

She helps you get changed, turning around when you are indecent even though she has seen you topless number of times.

Once in bed Ana helps you get comfy before leaving.

"I thought you said you were staying the night" even though you are adamant you don't need help you were still looking forward to the sleepover with your best friend.

"I'll be in the living room. You need to get some rest" Ana leans against the door frame.

When she sees you pouting she shakes her head ever so slightly. You pull back the corner of the duvet on the empty side of the bed and pat it a couple of times.

"Ana-Maria Crnogorcevic please come to bed"

Ana loved the way you said her name. The way you pronounced every syllable and how your spanish accent meant you rolled the r's. It made saying no to you incredibly difficult and you were fully aware of this, it's why you did it.

The two of you gets settled and Ana picks out a movie, one that she is sure you've never seen before. You may be focused on the TV but whenever you look over to your best friend you find her staring at your chest.

"Stop looking at my boobs"

"I -- I wasn't looking at them -- I mean I was but I wasn't -- I was looking at--" Ana face rivals the colour of a beetroot at your accusation.

"Looking at this" you pull the front of your tank top down revealing all of the marks left by Esther's boot.

"I told you I would protect you" Ana refuses to look you in your eyes as she thinks about how she failed you.

"There's nothing you could have done and from what i've heard you defended my honour afterwards" you could tell that Ana felt bad about you getting hurt and whilst you don't mind being the damsel in distress if she is the one saving you, you knew that this was just one of those times where nothing or no one could stop Esther from her attack.

"It's my fault"

"Really Ana?" You were staring to get annoyed. Ana was making is obvious that she wanted to punish herself but you really didn't want to spend the night talking about what happened.

"Don't look at me like that" Ana senses your annoyance "I provoked her at half time and since then her tackles got worse. She knew that by going after you she would be hurting me"

"This isn't about you"

"No it's not. It's abut you Y/N. Do you know how scared I was? I told you I would protect you and I failed you. I couldn't protect the woman I" Ana stops herself before she says something she cannot take back.

Your eyes widen when you realise what she was about to say. Is this really what it took for you both to admit your feelings. Was you getting put in the hospital your version of an airport confessions from the movies.

"Finish your sentence" you tell her. The expression on your face is serious. No part of you wants her to think you are making fun of her.

"I can't"

"Please"

Then it hits her. You know what you was about to say and you want her to say it anyway.

Ana tucks a stray hair behind your ear, her palm rests on your cheek and you melt into her touch. She looks you in the eye then at your lips, you didn't pull away from her touch yet she was still hesitating.

"Fuck it" you lean forward, ignoring the pain that rises to your chest at the sudden move and kiss your best friend.

It is Ana who deepens this kiss but you have to push her away.

"Ow, ow, ow" you lay back down as you try to get your breathe.

"Sorry. That's my fault, I shouldn't have -"" Ana begins to apologise only for you to cut her off.

"I swear to god Ana if you blame yourself once more I am kicking you out"

Ana hold her hands up in surrender. In this moment she would do anything to stay with you.

"Come here" Ana extends her arms so you can lay against her side" Carefully" you warns when she hears you wince.

The two of you go back to watching the film only for Ana to pause it after 20 minutes.

"The woman I love. I love you Y/N" Ana finishes her sentence.

You turn slightly so that you can face her.

"I love you Ana-Maria" you softly kiss her again. You want her and in this moment you ignore the pain you are feeling.

Ana cups your face and gently pulls away. You pout at the lack of connection but this time is doesn't work.

"Don't look at me like that. I want this just as much as you do but I won't have you hurting yourself more" Your heart warms at how Ana was back to protecting you, only this time it was from yourself.

It took 2 weeks for your concussion to pass and 6 weeks for your broken sternum to heal. The day you got the green light Ana took you out on your first official date and that night the longing you two of you experienced over the years was let go.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #ana Maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana Maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana Maria crnogorcevic one shot #Barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni one shot #barcelona femeni imagine #swisswnt x reader #swisswnt imagine #swisswnt one shot

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unsaidthingsj2e · 2 years ago

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Promise i don't forget all of my fault in this

Summary : After Jude broke your heart, he can't help but regret how he did it. Loosing his best friend of 10 years is not something he knows how to cope with

a/n : here is part 2 to this fic, probably not what you were expecting but i like it this way better!

english is still not my first language so if any sentence doesn't make sense or if typos are hiding in there, i apologize!! (+ this is even barely proofread sorry)

title is a lyrics from Best by Gracie Abrams

To the eye of anyone else, his life looked like a dream.

With his career predicted to continue its raising towards a legendary peak, a beautiful girl he genuinely was in love with at his side and a promise of everything going his way in life, it seemed like the equation was solved.

The thing is, it was solved, he found x, he had x but he also threw x away, thinking it wasn't necessary to his well-being.

The problem is, x was his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-childhood friend. When he made the decision to leave her behind, he thought he did the right thing.

Breaking her heart was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew she wouldn't have survived seeing him with a new girl while still being in his life. He knew if given the option, she would've stayed at his side, as a best friend, a friend, an acquaintance. So in his mind, breaking her heart, leaving her with a lost soulmate was the best decision, for her.

He had not anticipated how much it would hurt him as well.

He spent the first week feeling unbelievably lighter. Lying to her, going out with his girl behind her back and cheating were not things he had enjoyed doing. He knew he had no right to be sad or even to complain about anything, being the one doing the cheating and not being cheated on.

He was certain if younger Jude could, he would find a way to travel in time and hunt current Jude down until the end of his days. She used to be so much more than an ex-lover.

Ever since primary school, she had been the only constant thing in his life. He had other friendships that he grew out of, he had girlfriends that wouldn't last enough time for him to even get attached, and he now had fans that would forget about him in a few months. But she was always there, and that's what made him think she was the perfect match for him.

He already loved her and they got along better than any other friends, he knew her inside out and still admired her, he already went through hell and back by her side. It made sense that what he was feeling was romantic love. And perhaps it was at first, or maybe it never was, he could not pinpoint the moment he realized he made a mistake and confused platonic feelings for romantic ones.

It's the fact that she realized so much faster than him that scared him, and that made the process happen so much faster. She managed to watch the light fade from his eyes before he could put a name on what was happening in his head when he looked at her. She noticed the nature of the blank stares he would be stuck in and deep down, she knew.

Tonight marks the third week since he broke her heart, and his guilt laced with longing is eating him alive. Because today was the 22nd of the month, day on which, every month without a miss, they would meet up one way or another to watch movies and gossip and catch up on lost time due to their busy schedules.

It had become a tradition since they were kids, Jude had to conceal football and school and ended up being able to spend less time with her. A June 22nd, she had voiced her worries of him forgetting her in the whole process, so he promised at least every month, she would get a night of his full undivided attention.

It was never just movies, some 22nd's were spent on her house's roof, stargazing while sharing terrifying thoughts about growing up, about feelings taking a meaning, others were spent driving around your hometown, signing along to their shared playlist.

But it always was on the 22nd. Twelve 22nd's a year, twelve nights to ensure their hearts were still each others.

Tonight's 22nd was the first one in eight years they weren't in each other's presence or on a videocall. On this 22nd, Jude decided he had to face his feelings. He was done hiding them and pretending this didn't affect him, he lost someone who was dear to him no matter who was to blame.

Coming home from practice, where his performance were mediocre at best, and ended in his coach voicing his worries about his mood and its affect on his stats lately, Jude was worn off.

Turning his keys in the door lock, his eyes fell down on the red phone cabin keychain he reluctantly kept after she forced him to. He had playfully refused to do so at first, claiming this was too much of a tourist thing to even just buy, let alone display on his keys. But she had argued that this would be a fond way to remember every place they had traveled to.

Not realizing he had been staring at the keys lost in thoughts for a few minutes, not making any moves to enter, a soft voice got him out of this haze.

"Jude, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend ask from the other side of the door, voice uncertain and fear audible

"Yes, yes it's me darling. Sorry about that I kinda zoned out", Jude rushed to explain while opening the door, noting how scary hearing the quiet sound of keys fumbling into the lock would've been from her point of view.

He stepped into his house, immediately face to face with his lover, whom he engulfed into a bone crushing hug almost as quickly.

"Today's the 22nd" he mumbled into her hoodie "It sucked, 'm feeling like shit and I did bad at practice"

One thing he made sure to do with any partner of his, was to make sure they both felt safe enough to share any thought, not wanting to hold the weight of any information by themselves. Therefore, he had told her everything about his feeling about his ex best friend, how much he missed her and everything about their moments ; including the 22nd tradition.

"Yeah, i figured you would- not do bad at practice, feel like shit i meant" she answered while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, simultaneously rubbing comforting circles into his back.

"I just- it's so frustrating. I'm the one who broke things off, I got the fucking good side of things and here I am whining about it.", squeezing her body harder, Jude tried another way to convey the emotions that invaded every cell of his body, feeling like words aren't enough. Before he could continue, she interrupted his rant.

"Jude, hun, we talked about this. You did break things off but it was needed, even she could tell things weren't the same anymore. But she was your best friend, shit like that hurts even if it was the best option at the time", this conversation was held almost every day, he was convinced his feelings were not justified because of the way he handled the situation.

"Yeah, I know, my feelings are valid and all this bullshit, doesn't mean it doesn't feel unfair" he moved from the embrace to take his shoes off, focusing on the task to avoid his lover's eyes "I mean, I miss her so much and it's so selfish considering she's probably in her head overthinking the authenticity of every moment we ever spent together, I'm literally a piece of shit". His shoe laces weren't cooperating, seemingly in sync with his conflicting emotions. With a groan, he gave up, throwing himself on the floor with his back on the door, his head resting on it, looking up the ceiling.

She gently crouched down next to him, rubbing his thigh in hopes to calm him down with the soothing movement. "I won't lie and say she's thriving right now, because let's face the truth, it definitely destroyed her-", at this statement, Jude banged his head on the door, "-but. But it was a shitty situation that needed to be dealt with in a shitty way. You missing her is not you being selfish, get that out of your pretty head."

Now on her knees beside him, she brought her other hand on his cheek, nudging him to make eye contact with her. Her gaze was full of empathy for his internal struggle, understanding his part, but also seeing hers. "Did you-" she stopped for a second when he finally looked back at her, eyes glossy, "Did you think about reaching out to talk to her? I'm aware you don't want to do it because you're scared she'd come back and end up hurting more. But. If not for you, do it for her? You haven't seen her since you broke things off, and she didn't even get the chance to talk, she probably is dying to find closure in a way"

"You're probably right, she deserves it. I'm just not even sure she'd want to meet up though. I wouldn't want to see someone who is as much of a dickhead as I am. Good motives or not, I did this badly." Jude did not lack self awareness concerning this situation. It's because he knows her so well that he knew the words he used would wound her deeply, although unintentionally.

Voice barely above a whisper, he shamefully admits, "Sometimes, I don't even want her to get closure. God that sounds so bad but. I don't want her to forget about me, about us. 10 years of friendship is a fucking long time, I don't want her to wipe this off her memory because I was an asshole"

Not even bothering to correct him, and uselessly try to convince him he isn't an asshole, she instead continued, "Please, talk to her, she probably doesn't want 10 years worth of memory to be tainted by this ugly night. And it's been due, for both of your sake." She felt helpless in front of her boyfriend's misery, and would do anything to help it be less intense and all consuming. "Don't let her spend her first 22nd in eight years all alone, thinking you hate her", slowly detangling his shoe lace and tying it back the right way, she moved to kiss his forehead. "Be patient and let her time to voice her thoughts, yeah?"

He stood up, and took his time to take the woman in front of him in, he felt incredibly lucky this exact second. Any other woman would be fuming with jealousy at the thought of their man going to see their ex-girlfriend that they've known for half their life. He hated to think that getting her had to come with losing his best friend. "Okay, yeah, okay i'm going then. I appreciate you so much for this, thank you for understanding."

a/n : you guys : "part 2 w reader living her best life n Jude wanting her back!!"

me : "how about no?" i actually wrote about 6 different start to this but it always felt off, knowing how brutally Jude left reader?

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham angst #footballer blurb #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x you

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chelseachilly · 1 year ago

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THIS LOVE - prologue | high tide came and brought you in

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 1.5k

summary: you and ben have been best friends since you were kids. there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, including pretending to be his girlfriend to help his career when his public image has taken a hit. what’s the worst that can happen?

A/N: hi everyone! welcome to my latest ben fic! thanks to everyone who voted in the poll i made recently, ultimately i couldn’t decide so ended up going with both fake dating and friends to lovers lol. the title is from this love by taylor swift (taylor’s version obvi) <3

view all chapters

When you woke up today, becoming Ben Chilwell’s girlfriend is the last thing you would’ve expected to happen. Short of an alien invasion or a complete nuclear apocalypse, there is hardly any conceivable scenario that you would’ve had a harder time believing.

The day starts like any other.

You wake up after hitting snooze a couple times then hurry to get ready for work. You don’t have time to make coffee at home, so you grab a latte and a bagel from Pret on your way to the hospital.

It’s a typical, stressful day in the life of an A&E nurse, with a few major traumas coming in and the usual NHS understaffing issues.

You have lunch with your favourite coworker talk close friend Valerie, who you met in uni, and talked shit about your least favourite coworkers while eating mediocre salads from the cafeteria.

By the end of the day, you’re totally exhausted, practically dragging your feet as you walk up the stairs to your flat and collapse on the couch.

You’ve just mustered the energy to change into your pyjamas when there’s a knock on your door, and you excitedly run over to grab your dinner.

Unfortunately, it isn’t the Indian takeaway you’ve ordered waiting for you on the other side, it’s your best friend Ben.

“I thought you were Indian food,” you groan.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Ben chuckles as you step aside to let him in and he kicks off his shoes. “Tough day?”

“Long day,” you reply, walking back over to your couch and plopping down as Ben walks into your kitchen to get a drink, making himself at home.

You and Ben have been best friends since you were six, when you and your family moved and you started at the same primary school as him. He was the first kid to show you some kindness by asking if you wanted to join him and his mates for a game of football at recess. Obviously, at the time you couldn’t have predicted that the childhood pastime would turn into a massively successful career for him.

You two grew closer over the years and remained close even when he started at Leicester’s academy and you didn’t get to spend nearly as much time together. You almost never missed a home game, regardless of if it was a friendly in the academy days or a monumental Champions League match once he made it to Chelsea.

Likewise, Ben has always been there for you, supporting you as you worked your butt off to make it through uni and get your nursing certification. He was elated when you landed a job at a hospital in London not long after he signed with Chelsea, immediately offering you a spare bedroom.

Although you did take him up on that offer for a couple months while you saved up and looked for a decent flat, you eventually got your own place to be closer to work. And because you found that guys you went out with were either threatened or way too excited when they found out you lived with a Premier League footballer.

You’ve both been living in London for about three years now, and while you’ve made your fair share of friends in the city, there is something special about the bond you have with Ben. He knows you better than anyone else, just as you know him, and hanging out with him always feels right.

He feels like home.

Ben joins you on the couch with two beers he stole from your fridge, one of which he passes to you.

You raise an eyebrow, accepting the drink and taking a sip. “Since when are you allowed to drink the week of a game?”

“I’m just having one,” Ben retorts, kicking his feet up on your coffee table. “I’ve had a long day, too.”

“Oh, right, the PR meeting was today,” you recall. “How did it go?”

“Not great,” he sighs. “Do you think I’m a man whore?”

You nearly spit out your beer, trying very hard not to laugh as Ben looks at you with complete earnestness.

“Well, um, I wouldn’t say it like that,” you chuckle. “But…”

“Oh my god,” Ben groans. “If my best friend thinks that, no wonder my publicist says my image is shit.”

Frankly, Ben’s reputation has been better. Lately, he’s been spotted with more models and influencers than you can keep track of, none of whom stick around for very long. The media has been loving it, branding him as Chelsea’s resident playboy and splashing photos of him leaving clubs with beautiful women all over the tabloids.

You try not to judge, as it’s none of your business who Ben hooks up with, but you do think it’s a bit unlike him to be so reckless about it. Nevertheless, you’ve kept those thoughts to yourself.

“Isn’t that sort of the norm for footballers, though?” you question. “I mean, it’s not like a cheating scandal or something. Some of those guys are way worse than you, at least from what I’ve seen online.”

“Yeah, but according to Shreya, my publicist, times are changing and people don’t like the playboy shit anymore. Apparently I would have more luck getting brand deals and stuff if I seemed more…wholesome.”

You love Ben, but you struggle to see the man who proudly told you he left Jack Grealish’s party with two girls a few weeks ago as wholesome.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask, taking another sip of beer. “Be more discreet with your hookups?”

“Not exactly,” Ben replies. “The team thinks…and I know this sounds crazy, but they want me to get a girlfriend. Well, a fake one. Someone to improve my image.”

You can’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation, and Ben narrows his eyes at you.

“God, I didn’t know famous people actually did that,” you say, trying to hold back your laughter. “Who’s she gonna set you up with? Please say it’s Taylor Swift. She’s single now!”

Ben laughs for a moment before setting his beer down on the table and turning to face you with a slightly more serious expression on his face.

“Actually, they had someone else in mind,” he says sheepishly. “Someone I already know.”

“Who is it?” you ask, trying to rack your brain to think of what girls Ben knows that would improve his image. Outside of his family and his mates’ girlfriends, you’re pretty much the only woman who is a constant presence in his life. “Wait, are you - don’t tell me you’re asking me?”

Ben pauses for a moment before hesitantly nodding, looking a bit as though he’s afraid you’re going to hit him. Which, frankly, you’re considering.

“The PR team asked if I knew any girls that would work and Mark started going on and on about how you’re my best friend and a nurse and they all said you would be perfect-“

“Ben, I can’t date you!” you exclaim, cursing his agent, Mark, for even suggesting something so absurd. “Who would even believe that?”

“We don’t need people who know us to believe it, just the public,” he states. “And you don’t have to actually date me, we just have to pretend in public for a couple months.”

“I know, but…”

“Please, Y/N?” Ben says, looking at you with wide eyes that you’ve found hard to resist since he was using them to get your extra biscuits in fourth year. “I know it’s a weird request, but it could really help me out.”

It’s really hard to say no to that. Ben has always been there for you in every way imaginable. He once flew to Leeds, where you went to uni, on a moment’s notice because you were stressing over finals and needed a friend. A couple years into his time at Leicester, your dad lost his job and Ben insisted upon covering your parents’ mortgage for six months to help out, claiming he “owed them for all the Sunday roasts” and refusing to accept repayment even when your dad found work again.

He would never use any of that as a bargaining chip or try to cash in a favour, but you really do feel as though you owe him one. And more importantly, you want to help him.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll be your stupid fake girlfriend or whatever.”

“Really?” Ben’s face lights up and he pulls you into a tight hug. “Thank you so much. God, you’re a lifesaver.”

You hug him back just as tightly, breathing in his familiar scent - a mix of his aftershave with a bit of grass and something else.

“You’re welcome,” you say, rolling your eyes slightly as you pull back. “I feel like I’m gonna regret this.”

“You won’t, I promise,” Ben assures you. “I’ll give you a cut when I land the next big brand deal, how’s that?”

“Ew, no, that makes me feel a bit prostitutey,” you chuckle. “It’s just a favour, no need to compensate me. Although you can pay for the food when it gets here, since you’re gonna end up stealing half of it anyways.”

“Deal,” he grins, grabbing your TV remote and putting on an episode of New Girl you’ve both seen before.

As you settle in with your beers and samosas, laughing at the television together, you can’t help but wonder what you’ve just signed up for.

Oh well. What’s the worst that could happen?

A/N: i hope you enjoyed this first part, please let me know what you thought!! should have the next up soon! 💕 (also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!)

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell x y/n #ben chilwell imagine #chelsea fc imagine #this love

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lksvi · 1 year ago

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all we are is skin and bone (trained to get along)

𝆹⭒ vendetta!leon kennedy x bartender!gn!reader

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ synopsis — your favorite regular has more to him than you thought. after getting involved, you go through a series of events.

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ content — flirty leon at the beginning, vendetta leon is my favorite, alcoholism, motorcycle rider leon, reader gets referred to as bridesmaid/wears a bridesmaids dress for one scene, rebecca chambers my beloved, follows the plot of re: vendetta, probably has plot holes, not proofread, chris redfield, mostly plot, mentions of death

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ word count — 7k

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ note — i love vendetta leon!!!!! he is the best leon idc. he may be 40 & an alcoholic but idc HES HOT!!!! ok enjoy 7k words of plot. there might be a part 2 if this does good. also the summary is literally terrible pls ignore. also x2 my first time writing for leon please be nice <3333

𝆹⭒ masterlist

Usual Saturday nights consisted of beer, drunk men, and the football channel turned to the maximum volume on the little television in the corner of the bar. The customers demanded for football to be on whenever it was late at night, one too many beers causing their yelling to be slurred and their mouths to be slicked with spit. It was a gross sight, in all honesty.

It was your normal, though. Saturday nights were when you worked at the bar, mixing drinks and making conversation with drunk customers. They were nice when they’re yelling at you. Some made good conversation, while others were simply good to look at.

One of those being a regular at your bar, a man who goes by Leon.

He’s one of the people you notice whenever you come in for your shift. He always sits at the bar by himself, a shot glass in front of him and his back hunched over. He’s attractive, admittedly so, but you’ve never spoken to him beyond the regular bartender-customer conversation. He doesn’t seem to be a man of many words anyhow.

Hearing him talk was rare. Since he was a regular, and got the same bottle of alcohol every time he came in, all of the bartenders knew to give it to him when he sat down. He always had a way to pay for it: A sleek black card in his leather wallet. Often you wondered how he got all the money to pay for this every night. Spending nearly a hundred dollars on alcohol every night didn’t seem to be making a dent in his credit card.

You’d have to ask him what he does for a living.

“Hey, sweet cheeks!” A drunk man at the bar slurred, eyes hazy and a lopsided grin on his face. “Gimme another shot, will ya’?” You wanted nothing more than to scold him on his lack of manners, but you were past that already. You’ve had worse encounters with customers than a lack of manners, unfortunately. “No problem, sir,” You answered smoothly, a charming grin on your glossed lips.

You got him another shot, returning to your lazy lounging behind the bar. You enjoyed watching the customers, observing what they did and how they acted. Most of them were drunk, but it only added to your entertainment. After all, good entertainment is the key to not quitting your job. Not including the fact that rent was due every month.

Speaking of entertainment, Leon should be coming in…

The bell rang as the door opened.

… right about now.

Exactly on time. You couldn’t help but let a small smile curl on your lips, easily predicting the exact time Leon would walk in. He’s been coming here for a while, after all.

“Good evening, Mr. Leon,” You greeted as you set down the bottle of alcohol, pouring him a shot. “Doin’ fine today?” Despite his real lack of talking, you still found yourself attempting to converse with him. He interested you. Everything from his attitude to his alcoholism to his seemingly endless credit card.

He didn’t answer you for a good moment, letting out a grunt as he downed the shot, wiping the excess liquor off with the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Peachy,” He answered, not looking you in the eyes. You didn’t mind. You poured him another shot, sliding the shot glass to you.

Leon finally looked up at you, steel-blue irises meeting yours. A shock went up your spine, your body shivering as you stared into his eyes. Some magnetizing force refused to let you look away, keeping your eyes on him until you were called over by another customer. Even then, you had to tear your gaze away, clearing your throat as you attended to the other customer.

What was that?

You’ve never had that type of connection before. An electric spark that only you two could feel. It felt odd, the effects lingering in your spin, sending zaps of electricity to your neurons. They seemed to be working in overdrive, making everything a little too sensitive. The wooden counter brushing against your skin felt rougher than usual and you could feel your feet ache, a dull sensation that made you bite your lip.

The rest of the night went on without many complaints. You mixed drinks, tried hard to not look at Leon, and made conversation with customers. It was a nice night, overall. However, as the late hours rolled around and the lights dimmed, the rowdy yelling morphing into a hushed murmur among the crowd.

All the while, you could feel Leon’s gaze on you. You didn’t look, knowing you’d be pulled into that magnetizing force again, not wanting to be stuck. It was odd considering you’ve never had a full conversation with him. Maybe it was a figment of your imagination, you being weird to a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

But if he wanted nothing to do with you, then why could you feel his gaze stuck on you, watching you like a predator stalking its prey?

—

It started getting slow at around three in the morning, yet Leon stayed no matter how late it got. He had finished an entire bottle now, sitting at the bar drunk. You were sure that he reeked of alcohol.

Despite whatever happened between the two of you earlier, you were still drawn to him. You wanted to make conversation with him, to hear that smooth and rough all at the same time voice respond to you.

“Here late again, aren’t you, Mr. Leon?” You asked, a brow raised as you cleaned the glasses. He looked up at you as you spoke, eyes squinting against the overhead light. His eyes were half-lidded, cheeks red and flushed. His arms crossed over each other on the bar where his head was laying a moment ago.

Leon grumbled at your words, his voice thick with alcohol, but replied anyway. “As always,” He said, eyes darting to you. He focused his gaze on you, and again, you felt as if you were being sucked into a black hole. There was something pulling about his gaze, deep sea blues enticing you. Your eyes darted to his lips, nude-colored and somewhat chapped, before quickly flicking back up to his eyes. Why did you even do that?

Once you dried your hands off, you leaned against the bar, head tilted as you looked at Leon. “You done for the night, Mr. Leon?” You asked, ready to take the empty beer bottle, but he simply grunted. He didn’t answer for a moment, silence falling over the bar, save for the hushed murmur of conversation in the corner. Right now, it was only you and Leon.

You couldn’t tell if you liked the idea of that or not. For now, you chose to enjoy it.

Without looking up at you, Leon grumbled a response. “Jus’ Leon s’fine,” He said, surprising you. He never really spoke besides answering your questions, so an actual conversation starter coming from him was surprising. Not hated, however.

“Alright, Leon,” You said. You tried to hide how giddy you were, feeling as if you’ve got somewhere. “Are you done with that bottle?” You needed to know if you could throw it out yet. You were tired of seeing an empty bottle on the counter. With a grunt and a nod, Leon gave you permission, eliciting a smile from you as you took the empty bottle. You hummed as you threw it away, feeling his eyes laser holes into the back of your head.

You turned back around to see him staring at you, the flush on his cheeks red from alcohol. He seemed to know how to handle his liquor, though. “Can I ask you a question, Leon?” You asked, leaning against the bar, your hands near his elbow. You wondered if he was naturally a warm or cold person (a dumb thought, in all honesty– You were curious, however).

After he nodded, you continued with your question. “What do you do for work?” He wasn’t expecting that question, eyebrows pinching together, but you continued with an explanation. “I mean, you come here practically every night and pay, probably, thousands every couple weeks. The fact that your card hasn’t declined yet is… insane.”

He seemed to not like to be reminded of his job. His shoulders slumped and his eyes glazed over, staring off into the distance, but you couldn’t help but be curious. After a few moments of silence, and anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach, he finally spoke up. “I work for the government.” His response was vague, but you could tell that he didn’t want you to press anymore.

Still, you were curious about him. You wanted to know more about him. “Were you raised in Colorado?” You asked, but he merely arched a brow at you. He looked annoyed, lips curled into a sneer. “What is this, twenty-one questions?” Immediately, you felt as if you had overstepped your boundaries, spikes of your anxious nerves pricking your skin, making you stand upright.

“I’m so sorry–”

“I get to ask you a question before you ask me one. Is that not how twenty-one questions work?”

Your eyes widened at his words, yet went along with them. You leaned back against the counter, ignoring the anxious pin pricking of nerves. “I guess it is,” You said, a small smile curling on your lips. “What is it you wanna ask?”

A moment of silence hovers over you two, not doing anything to soothe your rapidly-firing neurons. “Let’s see, [Name],” He starts. The way your name rolls off his tongue makes you suppress a shiver, not daring to break eye contact with him. “How long have you been working here?”

You hum in thought, biting your lip as you think. “For a few years now,” You answered, noticing the way his gaze quickly flickered back up to your eyes. Interesting. “Let’s see…” You take a moment to think. “You have somewhere to be in the morning, Leon?”

He seems surprised by the question, the corner of his lip curling upwards. “Not anywhere important, sweetheart,” Leon answers. “There a reason you’re askin’?” The unexpected pet name gets a rise out of you, cheeks flushing. Leon’s observant– Able to tell your reactions better than you can. You’re awfully easy to fluster.

“I have a shift in the morning,” You tell him, smiling sweetly. “If you want to swing by, I might be happy to serve you.”

Leon chuckles. He gets up, pushing the empty shot glass towards you, flashing a grin. “I’ll be there, dollface.”

With that, he sets down a few hundred dollars on the counter, turning on his heel. He waves a hand towards you. “Keep the change!” Typically, when people say that it’s only a few cents extra, but this time it’s a couple hundred extra.

After realizing this, you go to say something, but he’s already gone.

—

The next day comes slower than you’d like. Each time the door opens, your gaze flickers to it, hoping to see Leon. Yet, every time, it isn’t Leon. Time passes slowly, the hands on the clock taunting you, until finally, watching the door pays off.

You sigh, your chin on your hand as you stare at the door. What an interesting guy.

You straighten up as Leon walks in, immediately grinning at the sight of him. “Well, well, well, look who it is!” You said, noticing the playful tug at his lips. “If it isn’t Leon. Came back early, did ya’?” You were teasing him.

“Only ‘cause ya’ asked me to, doll,” Leon replied, taking a seat at the bar, arms folded in front of him. You hand him a bottle of his usual alcohol and an empty shot glass. You don’t know if he wants to drink, but it isn’t long before he’s taking a shot. “So, what’s the reason for this meeting?”

You shrug your shoulders, leaning back against the wall, a smile on your lips. “You’re an interesting guy, Leon,” You reply smoothly. “Just wanted to see if you had anything else interesting about you.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes, as if he knows something you don’t, finding your words amusing. “If only you knew.”

You don’t ask him what he means, but you can’t help but be curious. Maybe there’s something more to your favorite regular and all-time-mysterious-customer.

It’s slow in the mornings, allowing you and Leon to easily fall into quiet conversation. He’s surprisingly funny, cracking jokes that have you giggling behind the bar. All the other customers have left, leaving only you and Leon, chatting with each other to pass the time. He likes sarcasm, you’ve learned. Snarky responses, too.

There’s more to him than just a most-likely alcoholic and seemingly endless credit card.

It’s a few hours into your conversation with two people you’ve never seen before set foot into the bar. One of them is a big guy, tactical gear on his waist and chest, while the other is a much smaller woman with short hair. You’re about to speak up, but Leon beats you to it.

“Make sure not to scare the locals,” He says gruffly. “Your stealth is for shit.”

Your eyes flicker between the two, now standing behind Leon, and the latter, taking another shot of the alcohol. Noticing the tension, you quickly walk away, cleaning already-clean glasses to make yourself look busy. You try not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but you can’t help it. You’ve never seen anyone talk to Leon, and you’ve never seen the people talking to him, either.

“Isn’t it a little too early to be that deep in the bottle, Leon?” The big guy asks, arms crossed over his chest. You hear Leon’s scoff, see him turn towards the two out of the corner of your eye.

“Well, if it isn’t the B.S.A.A.’s golden boy and Dr. High Hopes!” There’s fake joy in his tone, melting into disdain when he turns back around. “What the hell do you want?”

The big guy glances at you before he says another word and you quickly take the hint. You scurry off to the back, consequently shielding your ears from their conversation. You pretend to be busy, but there’s really only one thing on your mind: Who are these people?

You’ve never seen them before, much less anyone talk to Leon. He’s always been a loner, isolating himself in the corner of the bar. It’s not your business though, as curious as you are.

Fifteen minutes pass without any complaints. You stay in the back, occasionally hearing the muffled conversation between the three. The big guy scared you, biceps the size of your head. You’d go out there if you weren’t afraid of him snapping your neck like a twig.

Within a few minutes, there’s yelling and shouting, a rough ‘thud!’ echoing off the walls. Your eyes widened, looking out the peephole of the door to spy on them. You see Leon holding a guy by the collar to a pillar in the bar, snarl on his lips and eyes glaring daggers. You’ve never seen him angry before. The big guy stands beside him, mouth moving in a question you desperately wish you could read. The woman doesn’t seem to be out there anymore.

Before you could go see what was going on, there’s a quiet noise behind you, curiosity getting the better of you. However, as soon as you turn your head, you’re met with a woman with blonde hair, piercing red eyes, and a succubus-esque leather outfit. Your attempts to say something are muffled by the cloth she forces up to your nose, instinctively inhaling.

Your eyes begin to droop, the back of the bar spinning. Your legs shake and you can barely feel her stopping you from falling on the wooden floor.

“Witness secured.”

Him and Chris duck behind a table, wood clattering onto the floor and debris tainting the bar. He always liked this bar.

She throws you over her shoulder. Your eyes fall shut, and everything fades out.

—

The bar gets shot up. Leon briefly thinks that he’ll pay for the damages.

As Chris peeks up, there’s a sense of urgency in his tone. “They have Rebecca!” He yells, then squints, as if trying to make something out. “And… the bartender?”

At that, Leon shoots up, looking past the table to see a woman with blond hair, holding Rebecca over one shoulder and you over the other. His breath hitches.

“Fuck,” He swears. “That’s [Name].”

You hardly even know him and you’ve gotten caught up in his work. He hates the feeling of defeat that washes over him, but it’s quickly replaced by seething anger. He won’t let anything happen to you. You don’t deserve that.

He and Chris will get you and Rebecca back.

“Why take the bartender?” Chris wondered aloud. Tires hit the worn down sand, dirt kicking up as it took off. “They weren’t involved in anything, were they?”

Leon had no clue as to why you were kidnapped. “Maybe they didn’t want any witnesses,” He muttered, standing up, surveying the debris. This would be hell to clean up. They couldn’t worry about that, though. Leon glanced down at the phone in his hand, one that wasn’t his, sighing angrily. “We need to figure out what they’re planning.” He holds the phone up to Chris. “Maybe this’ll help.”

With Rebecca’s laptop, a sample of her blood, and the cellphone, Leon and Chris devoted hours of their time to figure out what Glenn Arias’ plan was. The light reflecting off of Rebecca’s laptop and the cellphone, both of them had a headache. Still, they needed to push on. For Rebecca and [Name].

Finally, after discussing what Arias could’ve been planning, they figured it out: He was planning a bioterrorist attack on New York City using his new virus he had engineered. “Fuck,” Chris swore, scrolling on the laptop. “He isn’t planning to infect a few people…”

“He’s planning to infect the entire city.” Leon finished.

They both glanced at each other, and then at the laptop, the tank trunks mockingly staring back at them. Arias was planning possibly one of the biggest bioterrorist attacks the world’s ever seen.

Chris began calling the B.S.A.A., scheduling an airplane to take them to New York City, where they had also discovered where Arias’ base of operations was at. It would arrive within a few hours, and they wouldn’t get to New York until the next day.

Blearily, your eyes opened, the world around you emerged in a blur. There was a bright light, one you turned your head and squinted at, a low groan being pulled from your lips.

If Leon didn’t need a drink a few hours prior, he definitely did now.

—

Thick shackles held down your neck, wrists, torso, and ankles, keeping you pinned to the metal table. You attempted to move, but they were tight, keeping you in place. You cleared your throat, drawing the man’s attention back to you. There was a twinkle of something you couldn’t place in his eyes, one that made you want to pull yourself away from him.

It wasn’t until something– or someone– covered the fluorescent light did your vision finally adjust to the environment. A man with gray hair stood there, a calm smile on his face. “You’re awake,” He said, voice smooth, composed. “Apologies for having brought you here. You weren’t who I was trying to get.” His eyes flickered next to you, but you didn’t have enough freedom to look.

“Where am I?” You asked meekly. “Why am I here?” He sighed softly at your words, folding his hands behind his back. He seemed composed, as if all of this was normal. You were hardly keeping yourself together. If you weren’t unbelievably drowsy and held down, you’d be kicking and screaming. “I couldn’t have any witnesses,” He said. “You understand that, don’t you? However, I have to knock you out again. You woke up too early.” He motioned for what appeared to be a nurse step to the opposite side of the metal table, a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face and light blue scrubs adorning his frame. You tried to struggle, not wanting to be put back to sleep, but your efforts were futile. “Put ‘em to sleep again, will you, Doc?”

Despite your mumbled protests, a sharp pinch attacked your neck, and you were put to sleep again.

The next time you woke up, you were sitting up. It felt like a wooden chair, your attempted squirming causing the wood to creak under your movement. Your hands were tied behind your back, harsh rope rubbing into your wrists. Once your eyes adjusted to the scene before you, you were surprised to see a wedding.

A quick glance down told you that you were wearing a bridesmaid’s dress, flowy and long, reaching around your ankles. Your eyebrows pinched together, glancing around the rest of the room, quickly spotting the short haired woman that was around Leon and the big guy sitting beside you.

Unlike you, she was wearing a wedding dress, sporting the same confused expression you wore. As soon as she saw you, her confusion seemed to worsen, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at you. “Aren’t you the bartender?” She asked, to which you nodded. She gave a small huff in acknowledgement, looking around at what appeared to be a wedding ceremony. “Then… Why would he take you? Or either of us. This doesn’t make sense.”

You felt as if something big was happening– You don’t know what Leon was involved in, but you didn’t want to be involved either. “I don’t know what’s going on,” You said, flexing your wrists, testing the rope (again). “But I don’t want to be involved in this. I was just… talking to Leon.” A look of recognition flashed across her face, telling you she knew Leon personally. “He was only there because I told him to come that morning. He wasn’t even supposed to be there when you and the other guy walked in.”

You don’t know what you were trying to accomplish with your rant, but you needed to get it out. “Who even are you guys? I’ve never seen either of you before, and you just come in and start talking to Leon, and I’ve never seen anyone talk to Leon before but he seems to be involved in something and, apparently, now I am, too–”

“Breathe,” She cut you off. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. “I’m Rebecca Chambers. I’m a professor at a University. The other guy is Chris Redfield. I’m sorry that you’re caught up in this now, none of us– Me, Leon, or Chris– meant for you to be involved. We needed Leon’s help with something and figured we’d see him there.”

Finally taking deep breaths, you calmed down a little. Your heart was still racing and you were anxious, head spinning with overwhelming thoughts, but Rebecca helped. Even if it was just a little.

“I’m [Name] [Last Name].”

Rebecca smiled. “Nice to meet you, [Name].”

Before either of you could speak, a door was opened, a harsh end to the peacefulness that was you and Rebecca’s first conversation. The man who spoke to you earlier was there, hands folded behind his back, and a smile on his face. “Good, you’re both awake.” He walked in, keeping an eye on you and Rebecca.

The silver-haired man begins speaking to Rebecca, telling her that her “cure is magnificent” and “you’re truly a genius.” You don’t know what they’re talking about, but Rebecca surely does. She glances at you, then back at the man.

“I already figured everything out, Arias. My blood was the key,” Rebecca says, narrowing her eyes at him. “I know that your virus lays dormant in people. There are three stages to your virus: The one that lays dormant, the trigger, and the vaccine.” She smirks, a smug twinkle in her eyes. “And I know how you infect people.”

Virus? Dormant? Infect? What the hell is she talking about?

Your gaze flickers between Rebecca and Arias, watching the latter grin at Rebecca. “You really are a genius,” He muses. “Tell me more. How do I infect people, Professor Chambers?” A mocking lilt is clear in his tone, but Rebecca pays no mind. She simply continues her speech.

“I noticed that you were concentrating your outbreaks near the Great Lakes. At first, I thought you were infecting the water in the Great Lakes,” Arias’ eyebrows raise, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. Rebecca continues. “But you weren’t doing it on purpose, were you? No, you were infecting the water of a drinking water company.”

All this talk of infecting and water confused you, but it seemed Arias knew exactly what she was talking about. “Congratulations,” He said, coming to untie her wrists. He unties yours as well.

“It’s called the Animality Virus, or the A-Virus for short,” Arias explains. “The difference between my merchandise and everyone else’s is that mine can tell the difference between friends and foes. Essentially, I can tell them who to attack. They’re not completely mindless.”

With every sentence, you were sure your brain was spilling out of your ears. Nothing they were saying made any sense to you. Rebecca, however, seemed upset at Arias’ words. And with each word he was saying, you could tell she wanted nothing more than to smack him across the face.

“The B.S.A.A. is ready to mass produce the cure! You may infect people, but we’ll be sure to give them the vaccine before you trigger it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Professor.” Arias walks to the seat beside Rebecca, somehow still smiling. There’s a smug air about him “You were right: Your blood is the key. With your blood, I will be able to create a stronger virus.” He turns to the front of the room, eyes glazed over.

“Tomorrow will be a new world. Slowly, it will be stronger. Better.”

You notice Rebecca’s eyes widen at his words, but she doesn’t comment on them. Instead she looks around, eyebrows furrowed.

At the front of the room, there is a picture of four people projected on the wall. Arias, who appears younger; a young woman next to him; further from them stands a blonde woman; as well as a taller, older man behind her. The young woman next to Arias looks a lot like Rebecca.

“When that missile was shot at my wedding, it was meant to kill me.” A humorless chuckle leaves Arias. “However, it only killed everyone around me. Including my wife, Sarah.” He turns to look at Rebecca, a sad smile on his face. “You look a lot like her, Rebecca.”

Arias pulls a wedding ring out of his pocket, his smile turning sardonic. “That’s why I’m going to marry you, Rebecca. You’ll be a perfect model for my Sarah.” His eyes shift to you, pinning you in place like a bird in a cage. “And the witness will be your bridesmaid. I do need to kill them afterwards, but they will be present for our wedding.”

Your eyes go wide. Kill them afterwards?

The last thing you were going to notice would be a forced marriage between an insane guy and a woman who’s name you just learned.

You don’t want to die. You have so much to live for, so much to do. Dying simply because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time would be a horrible end. And you’re scared that there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are going to die. You can not stop it.

You don’t say anything as you sit there. You can hear Arias and Rebecca talking, but their voices are muffled, as if you are underwater. Your head is stuffed with cotton, keeping out any thoughts or questions.

You see Arias slap Rebecca across the face. She falls down, clutching her now-red cheek, staring up at Arias. You zone back in to see him opening a suitcase of some kind, cold air being exhaled as he opened it. What he pulls out is an arm. It’s pale and detached at the forearm. Bile rises to the back of your throat.

“Meet my wife, Sarah.” He smiles sickly, slipping the wedding ring on Sarah’s finger. “I know what I’ll do: I’ll sew her arm onto yours and then we’ll be wed.” He’s talking to Rebecca, who looks like she’s going to be sick as well.

Arias calls in two subordinates, breaking the projection of the wedding ceremony. “Take them to the lab,” He orders them. One goes to Rebecca, taking her by the arms, and the other goes to you and takes your arms in his grasp. “Infect both of them with the strongest forms of the virus. If it goes well, sew Sarah’s arm onto Rebecca.”

You and Rebecca share a glance, both of your eyes wide. Arguably, Rebecca has a bad fate, but you’re going to die. You and Rebecca need to get out of here.

The subordinates bring you two out into the hallway. Adrenaline floods your veins, overdosing them. As they’re walking both of you, presumably toward the lab, your legs shake. You feel as if you can’t walk, forcing your feet to take overwhelming steps.

As soon as you get to the lab door, you thrash around in the subordinate’s grip, effectively loosening it. You throw out any sort of punch and kick that you can, albeit badly. You’re clearly not trained to do this. The one holding Rebecca goes to stop you, but she’s already sweeping beneath his feet to make him fall, rendering him useless.

“We’re going to get out of here,” Rebecca assures you.

However, as soon as you turn around to go, the nurse from earlier grabs ahold of Rebecca. You stay frozen in place for a moment, heart racing, staring at Rebecca squirming in the nurse's grip. This is your only chance. It’s now or never.

“Go!” Rebecca screams. “Save yourself!”

That was the only encouragement you needed.

“I’ll come back for you!” You yell back. You break off into a sprint, going any confusing direction you can, just in case.

As you run, you notice the cameras swiveling towards you, lasering in on your dashing figure. You know you’re being watched, most likely by Arias.

Your sprint down the hallway comes to an interruption as static crackles in the air. You look around, eyes wide, jumping at the sound of a chuckle reverberating in the walls. “You’re not getting out of here alive, witness. Good luck getting past them.” Arias’ voice sounds through a sort of speech system.

Before you can ask him what he’s talking about, a door in the hallway opens up ahead of you. Out comes a tumble of people? They look like people, but their skin is falling off the bone and they’re deathly pale and some have limbs missing. You attempt to crack a joke, eyes wide as you take steps back.

“What is this, the zombie apocalypse?”

Their moans and groans answer your rhetorical question.

You turn around, legs breaking off in a sprint. Right as you go past a door, it opens, revealing more people. Or, whatever they are. Their moans join the previous people’s, a symphony of the wicked.

All you know is that they don’t exactly look nice. Besides, Arias made it clear that you weren’t going to leave alive. They’re meant to kill you.

You refuse to die like this. Not by whatever those things are, not by Arias, not like this. You’ve thought about how your demise would be countless times, the thought plaguing you late at night when it’s just you and your thoughts– None of your endings turned out like this.

You won’t accept it.

The only option is to get out of this place. Honestly, you have no idea how you’re supposed to do that. It only seems to be endless hallways, bland and lifeless, stretching past the horizon. The cacophony of groans behind you gets louder. They’ve gotten closer.

The stretch of hallways seems to finally come to an end. The end of the hallway would be good if not for the murderous horde behind you.

Once you approach the ending with nothing but beige walls and green outlines in sight, you start to fear for your life. It feels close to ending now. It’s become all so real. The torn flesh and blood-ridden skin on those things makes you shudder. Your back is against the wall.

Maybe it is time to kick the bucket.

A deafening chorus of gunshots ring out, bouncing off the walls. You see blood splatter against beige, and your hope for freedom, for living, becomes too much. You push towards where the moans and groans have ended and where the gunshots were heard, curiously peeking from around the corner.

There stands Leon and Chris, you know him as now. The latter notices you, nodding at you. “You!” He says. Leon turns around. You shuffle from around the corner, suddenly mute with attention.

Leon’s eyes widen momentarily, but he recovers hastily leaning a motorcycle– Where did he get a motorcycle from?– against the wall. He rushes towards, eyes overlooking you. The adrenaline is beginning to wear off, legs shaky with exhaustion catching up to you.

“You’re okay,” He breathes, not seeing any injuries on you. Still, he worries. “Are you hurt anywhere?” His hands hesitate, going to wrap around you, but stop.

You do your best to nod, clearing your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, Leon. Thank you.” Your voice gets louder once you look up, noticing the final question in both Chris and Leon’s eyes: Where is Rebecca? “The woman you two were with, Rebecca, she’s in a lab. They infected her with something. I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to get to her before Arias does. Please.”

They seem to want to get to her as much as you do, Leon’s hands leaving the area above you to hang at his sides. Chris sighs and shakes his head, looking around. “Alright. We need to find this lab, find Rebecca, cure her, and get Glenn Arias. The vaccine has to be around here somewhere.” He looks at you, then Leon, and then down the hallway. “I’ll find the lab. Leon, get them to a safe place. Arias might try to come after them.”

Leon nods. Chris nods back, some kind of communication, before turning around and going down the hall. You can hear the release of doors.

Leon looks back at you, now just the two of you in the hallway, and then back at his motorcycle. “Ever rode a motorcycle before, sweetheart?” He grins teasingly at you. You bite your lip, the pet name still making you flush despite the circumstances, and shake your head.

He arches a brow at you, letting out a low whistle as he stands the motorcycle back up. “You’re in for a ride,” He tells you, sitting at the front of it. Leon turns to look back at you, patting the area behind him. “Hop on. Make sure to hold on tight.”

Carefully, maybe a little too slowly, you get on the motorcycle. You hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, but he places a foot on the ground to wrap your arms around him for you. “Just like that,” He whispers.

For a moment, there is no virus and kidnapping and forced marriage.

For a moment, it is only you and Leon, sitting on a motorcycle together.

It’s a fleeting moment, one that lasts too little for the way it replays in your mind. It ends quicker than you’d like it to.

The motorcycle speeds down the hallway, bringing you to where Leon considers a safe place. The journey out of the building is a long one, Chris presumably distracting Arias. He seems intelligent though.

As soon as you and Leon make it out of the building, you breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize you were holding. The threat of your pending death seems less real now, more like an intrusive thought. Especially now that you’re with Leon.

He brings you to a hotel, parking the motorcycle and waiting for your arms to retract for both of you to get off. Your legs shake under your weight, threatening to collapse. Leon notices it, wrapping your arm around his waist. “Don’t fall,” He murmurs, either unaware or uncaring of your flushed face. His arm wraps around your shoulders, a heavy weight that you gladly welcome (seriously, how heavy was this guy’s bicep?).

He helped you walk up to the hotel room, despite how embarrassing needing the help was. He didn’t shame you for it, letting you take your time when you struggled to walk up the stairs, never even seeming annoyed. He unlocked the door and walked you inside, letting it close shut behind you two.

“There you go.” He set you down on the bed. To your shock, he even kneeled down to undo your shoelaces for you, taking them off your feet and throwing them to the front. “Better?”

You nod your head as you sit there, dumbly looking at him. He sets a hand on your knee, thumb caressing it, as he stands up. He sighed as he sat next to you, rubbing his eyes. “I need a drink.” Leon grumbled. You snickered, humming in agreement. “Well said.”

There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence that sweeps across you. You have so many questions about everything, yet not enough breath to ask them with. Instead, you bit your lip and sigh, looking down at the ground. “What’s going on, Leon?”

He mimics your sigh, as if he knew what you were going to ask him. “I never wanted you, or anyone, to get caught up with my work,” Leon confessed. “You saw a lot of things that you shouldn’t have. They’ll most likely have you change everything about yourself– Your name, location. Everything.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“The government.”

Another uncomfortable silence. You don’t know what to say. All the information is burning through your brain, making your body go into overdrive in order not to pass out, but you don’t have enough words to say anything. You’re confused and upset and lost.

However, there’s one question that sticks out the most. It stays stuck in your throat for a long while, desperate to not be heard. Still, you want to know. You need to know.

“Will I ever see you again?”

It weighs heavily in the air. You can feel Leon stiffen, clearly not expecting your question. There’s nothing in between you two. Your knee rests against his, the warmth seeping through your jeans. It makes you yearn to be closer to him, to feel that all-encompassing warmth all over you, for it to never leave you again.

Your puppy crush on Leon has developed into something so much more.

“Only if you want to.”

Leon’s words cut through the air like a knife. There’s a dual-meaning to his words; wondering if you want to see him again, a gravelly lilt to his voice.

“Of course I do.”

You say it like it’s obvious, as if there’s nothing more you’d want to do. In a way, there is nothing more you’d rather do. You’ve always found him interesting, and now you know he’s more than interesting. You want to see him more– more than just work hours and more than small conversations. You want to know his favorite color and how he likes his coffee in the morning and how he would hold you in the evening.

“Then you’ll see me again.”

You look at him. Leon’s already looking at you when you turn your head. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you feel open and vulnerable, and then back up to your eyes. Something gleams in his eyes and there’s a sort of roughness to his gaze. He’s been through more than he lets on. Its weight strains against Leon when he walks and when he talks, an edge to his voice that isn’t obvious upon first meeting.

You haven’t talked to him much, and you don’t really know anything about him, but you want to. You want to put in the effort to wake up with him in the mornings and go on dates with him in the evenings. You want to be there for him. You want to see him when you wake up and when you go to sleep.

You wouldn’t put in the effort for a lot of things, but you would put in the effort to see Leon.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“You will?” Your voice is quiet, meek. You knew that you had admitted you wanted to see Leon again, but you had no idea that Leon would want to see you again. After all, you had been the one that caused him to be in the bar that morning.

If you hadn’t asked him to come, he wouldn’t have been there. He could’ve avoided this whole mess.

Still, he nods his head. One of his hands comes to your knee, thumb caressing gently. He’s unreadable, always has been, but there’s one thing you're certain of: You’ll see him again.

“I will,” He confirms, quiet, as if it was just between you and him. “We’ll see each other again, [Name.]

“Alright, Leon.”

Things haven’t been right for a while. You were kidnapped for being a witness and had seen walking things that would definitely scar you for the rest of your life. Going home is the only thing you want to do right now.

But for a moment, things do feel right. The stars align and the planets come together to create a swirling galaxy of emotions.

Sitting here besides Leon feels right.

Leon feels right.

#𝆹⭒ vi writes!?#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #rewident evil x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x you

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betensured · 11 months ago

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Unlocking Success with Expert Soccer Predictions for Effective Betting Strategies

Betensured offers soccer prediction for betting fans. Here you will find reliable predictions for football matches by experts. The predictions are based on data and accurate information and are designed to help you find the best bets. You can use this information to place your bets to get the best results. Visit the website for more information.

#football prediction #today football prediction #best football prediction site #soccer predictions today #soccer prediction

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mycryptosuite · 1 year ago

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Play This Free 3 Odds For Today 23/06/2023

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hikaritakaishi · 3 months ago

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Takari Week 2024 - Day 2: Second Year

Days: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Title: Invisible [Prologue II] (Second Year)

Characters: Hikari Yagami, Takeru Takaishi, Taichi Yagami, Yamato Ishida.

Summary: It takes time to find our place. And sometimes that place isn't a place, it's someone. And even if the castle falls, we can always put the pieces back together and build it again.

Note: A collection of stories that gives us an insight into Takeru and Hikari's relationship over the years. It was really hard to put all the prompts explicitly in the story, so I tried to metaphorize some of them, in order for them to make sense at the end.

It is composed of two prologues, one for Takeru and one for Hikari, exposing events before 1999. And a final epilogue, summarizing all the feelings exposed in the previous chapters. In the intermediate chapters, we follow all the challenges that a long-term friendship has to face when it becomes a romantic relationship, and how we form solid and permanent bonds with the ones we love the most.

・。。・゜゜・。。・

She waved goodbye to her classmates from the bottom of the street and continued alone to the cluster of buildings where her house was located. It was Friday, finally.

She felt exhausted. Not physically, but emotionally. I mean, physically too, but not as much as emotionally. Her legs felt heavy, but her heart was feeling even heavier. What a suffocating week.

Several trips to the doctor later, and successive hospitalizations over the years made that physical weakness something customary to her. Casual almost. She was breathing heavily. Each step felt like a different kind of torture. And the worst of all, no one could tell her if she is ever going to be perfectly recovered.

Would she ever be healthy?

All of that caused her an almost constant absence at school. Treatments, days she could barely get out of bed, leaving classes earlier because she felt dizzy, tired, exhausted. Was impossible for her to make real friends. She barely knew anyone in her class. It's not like they ignored her, but they simply had no time to create a bond with her. A real connection. It was not something that was allowed to her.

She had no idea what they liked to talk about. What kind of games they liked to play. She felt out of place. Constantly. Most of them had good intentions, they were good kids, and they cared about her. But time. Nothing pays for the time we spend creating something with someone. It is rarely spontaneous.

Time was cruel. And ironic. Hikari felt that no amount of time would be enough to heal that wound.

“I am home. “

She tried to sound as normal as she could.

“How was school, dear?” Asked her mother as she saw her cross the hallway.

“Great!” She faked a weak smile. “I just have a lot of homework to do.”

“I see. You must catch up the rest of the class. “

“I am trying my best…”

She went to the bedroom she still shared with her older brother and closed the door. She placed her backpack on her desk and sighed. Another day has passed, and no progress has been made. She took three steps back and fell back onto the bed.

Would it ever get better?

・。。・゜゜・。。・

“Hikari! I have a surprise for you!”

Taichi’s voice sounded like an alarm clock to her.

She was at the dinner table finishing some schoolwork when he approached her. He came near her and stood by her side, irradiating confidence.

It was a sweet and warm Sunday morning, and she didn't expect her brother to wake up so early. He had football training on Saturday and usually rested until lunchtime on Sunday.

Today was not the case.

Taichi had woken up early and she had heard him on the phone with someone shortly after waking up. He wasn't exactly… careful with the noise he made or the tone of voice he used, so he ended up waking her up unintentionally.

“Guess who's coming to visit!”

She blinked. No idea, she thought. Taichi had so many friends that it was impossible to predict. School friends, football mates, neighbours… unlike her, he had unbelievable social skills.

“Sora?” She finally guessed. He loved spending time with Sora, so it sounded like a plausible possibility.

“Oh, no, not Sora. Do you have a second guess?”

“Ah… not really.” She looked back at what she was previously doing.

“Yamato!”

“Oh, I see. “She said unsurprisingly.

Yamato was a regular visit as well; he often came to play with Taichi or do some homework. Although they had some conflicts in the past, it seems that now they have learned to be best friends and support each other in every possible conceivable way.

“…and… Takeru is coming along!”

“Really?” She got up from the chair where she was sitting. “Is he really coming?” Her eyes were like stars, bright and clear.

“Now I captured your attention!” Taichi let out a genuine laugh of delight before continuing. “They are coming after lunch. Me and Yamato have some homework to do together, and since Takeru is in Odaiba, we thought that it would be nice for you two to see each other again.”

“I don’t see him since… “

“Yes, I know. I am glad you still remember him. And I can see your enthusiasm!”

She never told anyone about it, but Taichi knew how hard it was for her, not to be able to make friends. He knew how wonderful his sister was, and he knew how cruel life had been to her. She was kind, honest, and caring, she just needed an opportunity. She just needed to be seen for who she really was.

And how could she forget about Takeru?

Everything that happened was still fresh in her memory.

The laughter, all the tears, the fear.

The way they had to act like a team to survive. The way he did not let her down and cared for her, even though he barely knew her at the time. They clicked so naturally. It had never happened to her before. Time did not mean a thing for them.

But did he remember her, the way she remembers him?

・。。・゜゜・。。・

“So…” She said shyly “Do you want to solve a puzzle or build a castle with some blocks?”

“Oh, I love building blocks!”

“Great, me too!”

Despite everything that happened, they were still kids. They were still nine-year-olds. Who wanted to play, to laugh together and to forget their problems that seemed bigger than them.

“So, you decided to build a castle!”

Taichi’s voice sounded loudly in the living room. He looked like he had come to get something to drink from the fridge. He was in their parent’s small home office with Yamato doing schoolwork.

“Do you want something to drink as well, or to eat? It will not take us too long to finish but you can have something now if you want.”

They shared a look.

“We can wait for you!” Takeru said.

“Yes, we can wait!”

Taichi smiled and went inside the room again.

He felt very content. Hikari never brought a friend home to play. And he was overjoyed by that little achievement of hers. It finally seemed like she was enjoying sharing a moment with someone.

Some time had passed, and they had made a lot of progress on that castle. It was almost as tall as them.

“Oh…”

Takeru couldn't say anything more; after touching one of the blocks at the top of the castle and seeing them all fall to the ground, one by one.

He blinked nervously and looked at her in the eyes. He had screwed up, he thought.

“I… am sorry, Hikari.”

She smiled.

He couldn’t believe it, but she just smiled sincerely and started to collect the blocks again. Wasn’t she even a little upset? After all the effort they put into building that castle.

“It’s ok.” She said after a few seconds. “The base was fragile, you see. If we want to build one that would not tremble so easily, we must focus more on the base next time!”

“Ah… sure.” He answered a little insecure. “But… It was my fault that…”

“Oh no!” She stopped him. “If anything, it was OUR fault. Because we built it together. And we can always re-build it again and again…” She continued collecting the blocks.” Until it’s perfect!”

“You are… right. We can always build it again…”

“That’s the spirit!”

Their brothers, who had heard the blocks castle falling moments before, were near the door listening to the conversation, exchanging the most genuine sights of pride.

They knew that those two kids would grow up to be wonderful adults if they maintained and cultivated that empathetic and caring attitude.

“You know what Yamato… can you please bring Takeru more often?”

“Yes… definitely I will.”

・。。・゜゜・。。・

You can also find it at: Fanfiction.net & Wattpad

#digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #hikari yagami #digimon adventure #kari kamiya #takeru takaishi #tk takaishi #taichi yagami #digimon adventure tri #digimon #digimon fanfiction #takari week 2024 #takari #takari week #yamato ishida #sora takenouchi #デジモンアドベンチャー tri #デジモンアドベンチャー #tai kamiya

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sluttywonwoo · 2 years ago

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instead of you [part seven] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!! ; i know minho is the chef of the group but just suspend your disbelief for this series and pretend it’s jisung

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

The following morning came way too fast for your liking. Jisung snoozed his alarm three times and you were still passed out by the time he finally shook you awake. You followed the plan that he’d outlined, using makeup to cover the hickey as best you could. You could still see some purple peeking through if you squinted, but you hoped no one would look at your neck that closely.

Since you’d worn matching t-shirts yesterday you weren’t being forced to coordinate outfits today. You didn’t even pay attention to the clothes you threw on before you were tying your hair out of your face and walking out the door with Jisung.

You held his hand, half out of habit, half to steady yourself. You were even more sore than you had been yesterday, like you had predicted, and were having trouble staying upright.

The rest of the Hans were already in the lobby waiting for you to join them.

Dom took notice of your wobbly state right away as you stumbled down the stairs with Jisung’s help and cracked a smile. “Can you walk?” he joked.

Both Minho and Felix whipped their attention towards you but avoided your eyes, expressions unreadable. You could feel Jisung smirking behind you, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You just grinned sheepishly and nodded. “I’m just sore from yesterday, that’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jisung’s brothers exchange a look and you wanted to die in the spot. You knew they thought you were lying, knew they thought you were sore for a completely different reason. You clearly hadn’t thought your plans from last night through, because this was mortifying.

“Well do some stretches because we’re going to be doing a lot more walking today,” he exclaimed cheerfully.

“I’ll be sure to do that,” you promised him half-heartedly, cheeks burning.

You and Jisung lagged behind the rest of the group, like usual, as Dom and Nikki led the way to the first stop of the day. You paused for breakfast at a different, but similar, café and Minho ordered an assortment of baked goods for the six of you to share. Everyone was quiet as they ate, exhaustion already starting to take its toll on the family.

You were only one day in and your energy was fading. Thankfully, there would be a few days of rest between France and Italy, but until then you were stuck running on empty.

You almost strangled Minho when he elected to take the stairs to the top of the Eiffel Tower instead of taking the elevators, but kept your composure and settled for mumbling complaints to yourself as you trekked up the 1665 stairs with the rest of the Hans.

“How are you not sore?” you groaned, low enough so that only Jisung would hear.

“I am, I’m just not dramatic about it like some people.”

“I will push you off of this goddamn tower right fucking now,” you threatened.

Your best friend gave you an amused look. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t test me.”

“I’m used to this,” Jisung explained. “Twenty-something years of Han Family Vacations trained me for this moment.”

“Do you guys ever just go to the beach?”

“We do. But there’s lots to do at the beach too. Surfing, volleyball, football, jet skiing, snorkeling, scuba diving-”

“Oh my god, do you people know how to relax?”

“No, not really. It’s not something we’re particularly good at.”

“I guess that explains why you’re all good at everything else.”

If you thought you were winded by the time you made it to the second level of the structure, it was nothing compared to when you reached the top. Your legs felt like jelly and your lungs were on fire. You also felt like you might be sick but that had more to do with your debilitating fear of heights than it did with being winded.

At least you were able to take comfort in the fact that everyone else was also out of breath. Felix was even doubled over with his hands on his knees, wincing like he had just been kicked in the stomach.

“Yup, definitely going to feel that tomorrow,” Minho grunted, stretching an arm across his chest.

“And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself,” you added bitterly.

He dropped his arm and smiled at you, cocking his head to the side in a playful manner. Sweat had started to gather along his brow, making his bangs stick to his forehead. His hair was a bit lighter than Jisung’s, and not as wild. From what you could tell Minho didn’t make as much effort to style his hair as Jisung did, at least, if he didn’t have anywhere important to go. Minho could get away with leaving his hair down straight, while Jisung had to fight with his curls in the mirror for a minimum of fifteen minutes before he considered himself presentable. He’d let it grow past his shoulders if you let him, but whenever it began to curl up around his ears you always begged him to cut it, insisting that a mullet wouldn’t do him any favors.

Minho was still smiling at you and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“What?” you demanded.

“Nothing,” he said earnestly, shaking his head. “I’m just surprised you still have a voice, that’s all.”

There went your face again, burning with embarrassment. You could feel Minho’s gaze on your neck and brought your hand up to it subconsciously, fingers brushing over where Jisung had given you the hickey. Had you already sweat your makeup off? It wouldn’t surprise you given the heat and amount of exercise you had just done.

But if Jisung had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t say anything else about last night for the rest of the day.

“Want a drink?” Jisung piped up from behind you, putting a hand on your waist.

“I already have a water bottle,” you replied in confusion.

“No, like a drink,” he clarified and tipped his hand towards his mouth with his thumb and pinky out, nodding at something behind him.

It was a champagne bar, and it had just opened for the day, but there was already a significant line formed at the counter. It seemed as if all of the visitors were eager to start day drinking as soon as humanly possible.

You considered Jisung’s suggestion and shrugged. When were you going to get the chance to drink champagne on top of the Eiffel Tower again? And if everyone was doing it, you might as well join…

Jisung rallied his brothers to go order for your party while you waited with his parents. Dom and Nikki decided to go look out over the edge of the balcony while you stayed back, having already pushed the limits with your fear of heights. You people-watched instead, observing the numerous couples and families enjoying their vacations.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to Jisung offering you a flute of rose champagne. The glass was cold to the touch and it soothed your warm skin. You clinked your glass against his in cheers and took a small sip. The bubbles felt good on your throat and you had to remind yourself not to chug the rest in front of Jisung’s family. Despite what they already knew about you, you still wanted to keep up appearances as much as possible.

“This is pretty romantic, isn’t it?” Jisung remarked, staring off at the surrounding city.

“It would be if I wasn’t sweating my ass off,” you sighed.

He chuckled and shook his head. “The alcohol is just going to make it worse.”

“I know,” you groaned, “but it’s cold and it makes my brain feel tingly so I’m going to ignore that.”

“A couple more of these and you won’t be able to walk back down the stairs.”

“I’m already not able to walk back down the stairs. I can barely feel my fucking legs,” you complained, taking a bigger sip of your champagne.

“Maybe we should have trained you for this,” Jisung joked. “Like how athletes train for marathons or something.”

“I don’t think it would’ve helped,” you admitted.

He shrugged and downed the last of his drink in one go. “Guess we’ll never know.”

You and Jisung spent your free day roaming around the city by yourselves. You visited the bookstore Minho had told you about and Jisung bought you a couple of books- despite your protests. He insisted that it was part of his duties as your fake boyfriend as well as compensation for agreeing to be his fake girlfriend and who were you to deny him? You actually did try to deny him, several times. But he was annoying enough to get you to break so you let him buy you some paperbacks off of your to-read list and a French translation of your favorite novel.

By the evening you were both too tired to stray much further than where you had found yourselves so you were content to stay put and wander the surrounding streets together.

Notre Dame was across the street from the book shop so you made your way over there so that you could stare up at it in awe. The cathedral was still closed for construction so there wasn’t much to do there other than take a picture in front of it while making an obscene gesture at the camera.

After that Jisung led you down the steps to the Seine river where you sat in comfortable silence together. You perched yourselves on the edge of the water, Jisung sitting cross-legged with you laying your head in his lap, and left each other to your own devices. You started reading one of your new books and Jisung pulled out his camera to capture what was happening around you.

The sun was beginning to set behind the tall arched roofs, bathing the city in soft pinkish-orange light. The water was too choppy to make out a proper reflection of the sunset, but you could still catch glimpses of pink clouds and fading blue sky if you really tried.

Slowly, the noise and life around you died down along with daylight. Pedestrians and bikers were fewer and fewer until there were hardly any at all. You and Jisung waved to the ferries and party boats as they passed, delighting in the blinking lights and honking horns you got in return.

It wasn’t long until Jisung convinced you to pack up your things with him to head back to the hotel. You slept in the taxi on the way home.

The rest of the French leg of the vacation consisted of a bus trip to Versailles, a day exploring the historical neighborhoods of Provence, and an afternoon getting lost in Cassis before you were getting your passport stamped at the Port du Cassis to travel to Italy.

Italy was Jisung’s choice, being the foodie of the group. He was interested in the touristy stuff too, but his main motivation for choosing Italy was the culinary aspect.

You wouldn’t arrive for a couple of days though, since you were traveling by fucking yacht. The plan was to set sail from Cassis and take the scenic route through the Mediterranean Sea all the way to Venice.

You had been in shock when you first stepped on board the Fallin’ Flower and you were still shocked an hour later once you had been dismissed to unpack. You had never been on a yacht before and you weren’t entirely convinced that you were on one now. You thought you might have been dreaming.

“What do your parents do again?” you mumbled in disbelief as you settled into your own little cabin with Jisung.

“Uh, Dad’s a writer. He does some stand-up comedy. Mom’s got her own photography business.”

You looked up at the crystal chandelier above the bed. “Are you sure your family doesn’t have any gang affiliation?”

Jisung laughed and shook his head. “You still haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured what out?”

“Minho.”

“What about Minho?”

“He’s the one paying for most of this.”

“What? How? He’s only like twenty-something!”

“He’s a dancer.”

“Like on Broadway?”

“Try K-pop.”

“Damn,” you whispered, feeling almost numb with shock that your best friend was related to someone famous. “Is he any good?”

“A lot of people seem to think so,” he said with a shrug. “Nowadays he mostly choreographs for groups but he used to be a backup dancer for BTS and is pretty well known in the industry and related circles, especially among their fans.”

Suddenly it all made sense. The Audi, the yacht- why Minho always had his hood up like he wanted to blend in. A fucking K-pop idol. Kind of.

“You probably don’t remember this,” Jisung added after a moment’s pause, “but when we first met I asked if you liked K-pop.”

“And that’s how you decided if we could be friends or not,” you concluded.

Jisung nodded. “You said you’d never listened to a single song. So I knew you’d like me for me.”

“Do people really try to use you just to get to your brother?” you asked.

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

Silence fell between the two of you as you continued to put away your things.

“I can’t believe you never told me your brother is famous.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Are you mad?”

You considered your answer before you said it. It did sting a little that Jisung wouldn’t tell you something as big as this, you were under the impression that you told each other everything, but you understood why. Even though it made it seem like he didn’t completely trust you.

“No,” you answered finally. “I’m not mad. I’m a little hurt, we’ve been friends for so long, but I get why you wouldn’t want to tell me.”

“It’s not that I thought you’d see me differently, or ditch me for my brother, but I was selfish. I wanted to keep you to myself for as long as possible.” His admission took you by surprise but made you feel warm regardless, even if it didn’t fully make sense to you. “It was never about you,” he assured you. “It was always about him.”

You nodded and cleared your throat awkwardly. Neither of you had ever been very good at the deep stuff.

“I think I’m going to go lay out on the deck,” you said, grabbing one of your bikinis from your open suitcase. “You wanna come?”

Jisung declined, mumbling something about a sunburn waiting to happen, and opted to nap in the cabin instead. He promised to join you later and laid back on the bed, left arm covering his eyes.

You changed into your swimsuit and made your way up to the top deck of the boat where Nikki and Minho were laid out in sun chairs already, chatting about the view of the water.

“Y/n!” Nikki exclaimed when you entered her field of vision. She sat up and pushed her sunglasses back to look at you properly. “I’m so glad to see you up and about, come join us!”

You swallowed thickly and approached the two, sitting gingerly on the edge of a lounge chair across from them. Minho shot you a glance and smiled easily. You waited for the weird feeling or the nervousness to come, now that you knew more about who he really was, but it didn’t. He was still just Minho to you. You were much more nervous talking to Jisung’s mom.

“Where’s Jisung?” Nikki asked, voicing what Minho must’ve also been thinking.

“He’s resting in our room,” you explained. “I wanted to catch a bit of sun before it set so it’s just me for now.”

“That’s good too,” she said, her smile matching Minho’s. “I’ve been meaning to tell you how happy I am that you’re tagging along with us!”

“I think you told her, mum,” Minho pointed out, sounding embarrassed on Jisung’s behalf.

“I know, but I just meant that the more I get to know you the more I can see why you make Jisung so happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

You felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest, another one of those nagging thoughts telling you that what you were doing was wrong. It’s true that you made Jisung happy, just not in the way his mom thought.

“I don’t know if he told you this,” she continued, “but we’ve never met one of his girlfriends. So when he told us about you-”

“Mom,” Minho interrupted, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give her a look.

Nikki pursed her lips together and took the cue from her eldest. “Sorry, I won’t embarrass Jisung anymore while he isn’t here to defend himself.”

“When he’s present it’s fair game?” you guessed.

“Exactly. Same goes for all my boys.” The last part was clearly directed at Jisung who tsked in exasperation and put his AirPods in.

You watched your best friend’s mother pick up the book that had been laying flat on her stomach and resume reading it, prompting you to fish a book of your own out from your tote bag.

“Oh, hon, don’t forget to put on sunscreen,” Nikki reminded you suddenly, “you might not burn as easily as our family, but it’s still important to protect your skin. If you need some you can borrow some of ours.”

“That would be great, actually.”

Nikki passed a tube of sunscreen to Minho who passed it to you. You smiled gratefully and immediately began applying the lotion to your arms and legs. You hoped Jisung’s mom didn’t think any less of you for forgetting something so important. You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, but internally you were docking yourself points from the Hans’ overall impression of you.

Once you covered every part of your body that you could reach you were left with a dilemma. You still needed sunscreen on your back. You could either ask your supposed boyfriend’s mom to help you apply it, or your supposed boyfriend’s older brother. Neither option was ideal, nor was walking all the way back downstairs and waking up the aforementioned supposed boyfriend just to put sunscreen on your back.

You’d just ask his mom. No big deal. It was like asking an aunt, right? There was no reason you couldn’t-

When you looked back over to Nikki you realized that she had fallen asleep. Her book lay abandoned on her shoulder, likely still turned to the same page it had been when she last picked it up a few minutes ago. You debated waking her up, but decided against it.

It was fine. You could just burn. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal. You wouldn’t stay out in the sun for too long anyway…. but you knew Jisung would be mad at you if you did. And Nikki would be disappointed if she found out that you had gotten a sunburn literally right after she had told you to put sunblock on.

It wouldn’t be a big deal to ask Minho if you didn’t make it a big deal. All you had to do was get up the courage and-

“Do you need help?”

You almost screamed when you heard Minho break the silence. It was as if he could read your mind- not that it was hard to when you had your arms wrapped awkwardly around your torso, hands covered in white lotion trying to reach your back with little success.

“Uh, yeah. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Minho stood from his chair and crossed the deck to yours where he situated himself behind you on the cushion, straddling the metal frame of the chair. He held one of his hands out for your to wipe the sunscreen off of yours so that he could apply it.

“I’m going to start with your neck, okay?” he asked. You nodded in response. “It might be a little cold.”

You braced yourself for his touch, but still tensed when you felt his fingers on your skin for the first time. The lotion was cold, and a shiver rolled down your spine as he began to rub it in. His hands were strong. It was impossible not to notice with the way he was massaging the sunscreen into your shoulders. Your breath hitched when he slid a finger under one of your bikini straps and pushed it to the side. He muttered a tight “sorry” as he worked on the areas that had been covered by the straps and quickly moved on to your lower back.

You told him it was fine, but your voice was shaky. You tried to tell yourself that it was fine, but you were less convinced.

Minho was a friend, friends did this for each other all the time. But your body was betraying you. Your heart was racing, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or… something else. Something else that you wouldn’t let yourself think about.

It wasn’t even that hot out, but you were sweating, and you prayed Minho couldn’t feel it. You breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled your straps back up to where they had been sitting on your shoulders, only for your relief to be cut short as he slipped his hand under the band across your back with more sunscreen.

And as luck would fucking have it another voice piped up from out of nowhere. A voice belonging to your best friend.

“What did I miss?”

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