#could cook with her and she would teach her things. but then she'd just be gone for random periods of time and it was utterly inconsistent

[loetise]

one thing about allie she is cooking for your muse. she is baking for them. she is feeding them when they come over and even if they don't she is always bringing something for them. she is always listening and surveying to find out what they like and what they don't. she is teaching them little things around the kitchen if they like and are listening but she doesn't stop once they know how

[peachesofteal]

pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty

"Oh, you came!"

What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"

"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.

"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.

"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.

You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.

Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.

"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.

"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.

"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.

"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.

His heart soars.

His brain panics.

"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.

Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.

He'll be keeping you.

He'll be keeping you both.

[gilverrwrites]

would love to hear more of ur thoughts of jason... ANY jason thoughts, virgin, getting pegged, dom, on top on bottom, angry, emotional, loving, clingy...

any jason thoughts are appreciate tenfold pls i love the way you write its so sensual and enjoyable (//ω//)

Virgin!Jason/Sex Worker!Reader, 1.9K Words Why thank you anon, you're too kind. It’s funny you sent this in because I have been thinking about Jason a lot recently. Bit of a an odd one actually, I’ve been thinking about how easily he could get hooked on OFs or something similar. Stay with me here...

‘Jason loves cars, and girls, and getting into fights…’

The problem is, ever since he came back, he doesn’t know how to talk to or act around women.

Think about it. He was a teenage boy when he died, still going through puberty, never truly finding closure on all those changes. Now he’s a man.

A man with emotions, and desires, and urges that he doesn’t understand and has no idea how to satiate. The not knowing makes him nervous, angry even.

The first and only time Roy tried the “Have you met Jay?” line it was painful. Like giving water to a hydrophobe. Dying of thirst, wanting it so bad, but his hands are shaking, he can barely even make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation. Or touch her. Man, he wanted to touch her, she had such a pretty smile and glowing skin and the most brilliant laugh. He wound up muttering a ‘sorry, bye.’ To the floor and walking out. When Roy finally caught up, he got one hell of an earful. Yelling was all Jay could do not to start throwing punches he'd regret later. Roy had only had the best of intentions after all.

It was Dick who’d mentioned that the posters of half-naked women splayed across car bonnets or dowsed in lite beer might be a bit distasteful. He’d wanted to argue, if they’re bad, why do they sell them? But he was smarter than that really, and Dick was right, if he ever did bring a girl home, he wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Though the mattress without a bed frame and the lack of amenities might do that anyway. Regardless, he takes them down and throws them out along with a stack of vintage Playboys from his youth. He’ll rely on the words of D. H. Lawrence, Cleland and the likes for that sort of thing.

And just reading works, for a while. But there are itches books just can’t scratch, and like hell is he mortified himself trying to talk to women in public again. He’d almost gotten up the courage once since the debacle with Roy.

At the library, looking for classics and checking out their damaged clearance sale. He’d noticed her the moment he’d entered, such a sweet, sharp woman, teaching seniors how to use computers. He’d lingered for a while, until the class was over, determined to make small talk with her while getting his books checked out, but then he remembered what he was checking out. Immediately he was flooded with doubt. She'd think he was a perv. He put his books on the put-back trolly and left without a word.

That same night, feeling sorry for himself is when he falls down the rabbit hole of social media. Scrolling endlessly through post after post of girls on Instagram. His own page consisted of only a faceless gym selfie and the engine of a bike he’d been restoring, but he followed a lot of accounts. Book reviewers, muscle car enthusiasts, musicians. It wasn’t purely coincidental that most of those content creators were women.

His heart jumps out of his chest when he gets a notification, that doesn’t happen often, and usually it’s from Dick sending him funny dog videos, or Steph tagging him memes but this one is a ‘follow back’.

He’d been following you for a while, liking all your posts and occasionally commenting. Nothing flirty, he didn’t wanna seem like one of those creeps saying gross, inappropriate shit, but that often resulted in him sounding lame for praising the high amount of protein in your home-cooked meal, or something else mundane. Today he’s pointed out how nice the clouds in the back of your group selfie looked but apparently that was enough to get your attention.

You like his two photos and drop him a message. “Hadn’t noticed but you’re right. Those clouds were very pretty.”

‘Not as pretty as you.’ He types out then quickly deletes it. You were very pretty, exactly the kind of girl he would choke up around. You didn't have a lot of followers, and your posts weren't really curated to a theme or gimmick. You just documented your life. For some reason though Jason had been drawn to you ever since your smiling face had popped up in his recommended following.

Instead replies with a very creative “Yeah”

“Sorry, hope I’m not bothering you. You just seem cool.”

“You’re not bothering me.” He answers instantly, not wanting to put you off but unsure what to say.

“Good! If you’re ever feeling chatty, hmu 😊”

Easier said than done, but he massively appreciates the offer. He just doesn’t know how to take you up on it. Looking for inspiration he looks at your account again, noticing a link in your bio that he’s sure hadn’t been there when he’d first followed you. He does a spit take when it leads him to an OF page. No, that definitely was not there before.

Now he’s even more unsure what to do. Would it be weird for him to subscribe after you’d just spoken to him? Or was that what you wanted? Surely you put it there because you want subscribers, right? Should he ask you or would that make it more awkward? Why is taking down drug lords and killer clowns less scary and confusing than this?

He stews on the conundrum for a while, but eventually, he takes the plunge, signing up with the same username as his Instagram, irlgothamzombie. He could spend all night looking at your posts, and he does. Judging by your post history, and low interactions, you’ve not been doing this long, but he circles through the same handful of posts over and over, keeping his own hands full throughout. wink wink.    

He can’t get enough of looking at your body, squeezed into little costumes, draped in colourful lingerie, naked and stark against your bedspread. There’s one video in particular he can’t get enough of though, it’s you in a lacy green slip, giggling as you play with the hem, teasing the camera with a cheeky glint in your eye but never really showing anything. He plays it over and over again, fisting his cock as he images it’s his hands sneaking up your thighs, making you laugh over and over until he cums into his hand.

Even though the caption is specifically asking him your followers what type of content they’d like to see you make while in that outfit, he only comments “nice wallpaper” and logs out, cheeks burning with shame as he cleans up.

It’s a few days before he works up the nerve to log back in. He’s still high on adrenaline after a face-off with Black Mask. Feeling bold and looking for release, it’s the first thing he does when he gets home but seeing two notifications from you is like having a bucket of ice water thrown at him.

You’d replied to his comment, “😂Hadn’t noticed but you’re right.”

When he hadn’t said anything else you’d sent him another DM. “Losing interest, or are you just the shy type?”

“The ‘you’re so hot I don’t know how to talk to you type.’” He’d read through the other comments you’d gotten, that felt tame. A little out of his comfort zone, but safe enough to press send.

“That’s actually so sweet.” You get back to him quickly, sending multiple messages at once. Hopefully that means you’re glad to hear from him. “You can talk to me however you like.”

“You never said what you wanted to see me do?”

“If you’re comfy answering.”

Shitshitshit. His throat is painfully dry as he thinks up a response. “idk but I like it on.”

“green is my favorite color.”

“looks good on you”

“Do you want to see me fuck myself while wearing it?” The question is accompanied by a racy picture of you wearing the slip in reference that you hadn’t posted anywhere else.

YES! “yeah”

“Should I use my hands, or something naughtier?”

“whatever you like best” it probably seems like such a cop-out answer but he means it. “want you to enjoy it as much as I will”

“Can’t tell if you’re my nicest subscriber or not, but I got you, sweet stuff 😉”

The next day you upload the results, and he watches it straight away, not that he’d been waiting for it or anything. He’s already half-hard when he hits the play button. Then you say “This one’s specifically for you irlgothamzombie” straight into the camera with a wink and he can’t get his dick out of his pants fast enough.

He tries to take it slow, wanting to enjoy the whole video but that’s easier said than done. He’s leaking pre-cum minutes into watching as you run your hands along your body, dipping your fingers between your legs, over your covered nipples but never revealing anything.

His resolve wavers when you start to rub yourself through the fabric, cooing and moaning as you build friction. He bites his lip so hard to ground himself that it starts to bleed.

Then you bring out the big guns, he doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of toy. Long, with a round head that you hold to your clit and fuck, do you enjoy it. You’re practically drooling as you buck your hips and roll your eyes back. Your orgasm is loud and wet, and he almost breaks until he realises there are still a few minutes left.

You keep going, so he does too. Holding out until the very end. Is it possible that sex could feel better than this? Wild.

He messages you first this time.

He buys the green slip and the matching thong, still dirty after you’d cum all over them. Under the bawdy smell of sex he can just make scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating. Maybe he should ask you what brand it is so he can get a bottle and spray it all over his apartment.

He spends all day in bed, clutching the delicate lace to his chest and sucking on the underwear until his dick aches and he physically can’t cum again without hurting himself.

He isn’t sure how he feels about your return PO Box being in Blüdhaven. It's exciting and terrifying to think that you're real, and out in the world, within driving distance even. He could just bump into you one day. He could probably track you down if he wanted to but he kind of likes the comfort of you being behind a screen.

Eventually, he buys every service you offer, custom videos, a dick rating, your private Snapchat, and he practically purges your wish list. Not just the sexy stuff, but the gift cards, the clothes, the collectables, anything you want.

With every purchase you send him your thanks, ask him about his day, his interests both sexual and in general. You offer him services for free or heavily discounted, expressions of your gratitude for all he’s done but he always declines.

A part of him believes that you’d still talk to him if he stopped financing you, you're practically two steps away from asking for it outright, and he knows that. But the money is like a safety net. Like his helmet; a barrier between him and heartbreaking humiliation. As long as he keeps doling out the cash, he’ll never have to know if you’d reject him without it.

[romanoffsbish]

A Master Lesson in Patience

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Request | Natasha’s plans to spend her morning wrapped up with you are interrupted, but truth be told, that only made the climax sweeter | WC: 1,536

Warnings: Subby brain wave - Needy R.

Smut: Mommy (N) | Dove (R) | Somno (CNC) | Fingering -> Fisting (R) | Restraints (Spreader/Ties) | Teasing | Overstimulation(Punishment-Vibrator) | Orgasm Denial | Dry Humping -> Thigh Riding (N)

"I'm gonna stop if you don't cum," Natasha smirked at the desperation in your eyes. It wasn't fair, but she wanted to test your trust in her, but really she was testing your patience.

The redhead had no intention to leave you in an unsatisfied state. Actually, she'd had no original plan to leave at all. It was her day off and she was spending it on the self care she was encouraged to take by a relaxed Fury.

——

Pleasuring you endlessly was the most euphoric thing she could do. It always made her feel better after a long day, coming home to you and a home cooked meal never get old. Especially not when she kept the spark alive by eating you out on the same table for dessert.

Today though she chose to wake you up with a mind blowing display of head, she had your legs trembling before your eyes even opened. You woke up to the sound of your own moans, involuntarily leaving your throat as she gave your cunt the tongue lashing of a life time.

Then she pulled away abruptly, your hips thrashed of their own accord and you cried. Natasha shushed you with her thumb in your mouth as she'd answered the work call, your tongue swirled over the coarse tip, slightly tasting your essence as she spoke on the phone.

You were oddly content to have this break, it gave you time to wake up so you could enjoy the glorious moment with more of a conscious build up. Her voice was jumbled, like when you watch a cartoon and the adult's conversations are unintelligible. The kids didn't get it, and neither do you, as she was blurred above you.

"... I was in the middle of something extremely important," she yelled down at the receiver, saying exactly what she wanted to to the man who just screwed the both of you. Ironically taking your chance at being screwed into the mattress anytime soon. "Oh detka..."

You felt the sickeningly sweet sigh on your face and your eyes glistened. "Natty please..."

The redhead placed a kiss to the corner of your lips, teasing you as two of her fingers slid into your warmth, where her tongue just resided.

The threat weighed playfully on her tongue, and just as your walls began to flutter she made sure you knew your chances were slimmed.

Especially when she increased her speed while calmly saying: "I have to go sign a paper. Fury said it can't be electronically, and I would've told him to fuck off but if I don't do it an innocent man loses his life over a mistake a rookie made under my supervision. Still tempted to say fuck it, but I actually think it's the perfect opportunity to teach you dove."

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, much to the woman's amusement. When she only smiled wider you resigned to glaring at her. You knew this was a test. Natasha's been training you that total patience is key. "Only good girls can touch mommy," she'd purr, and seeing as that's the only way you could cum anymore, with her skin to yours as she took your breath away with her insistent kiss, you had been struggling to remember that rule.

Just like now, you saw the mocking way she pouted down at you, cruelty etched into the amused cracks of her downturned expression. It would be nothing for you to cum in the thirty seconds you now had left on her flashing watch if only she would remove her shirt and kiss you rough. So in an expected movement you pulled the redhead down with force, your hand held her face to yours while your other slid a hand beneath her shirt to squeeze her soft breast.

When she didn't pull away and allowed you to take exactly what you needed you already knew what was coming. It both ruined and improved your high as your body was spasming wildly.

"Oh my little dove," she purred humorously against the skin of your neck as you caught your breath. "So impatient," she tutted while her fingers continued to curl within your slick depths. "I have to go now, but don't worry."

You were indeed petrified, and she was living for the way your thigh tensed under the cool metal brushing across it. "Don't cum while I'm gone," she taunted further. Watching the way you rolled your eyes at her as she got dressed.

"Goodness dove, I thought you would have learned by now," she shook her head and finished securing your arms to the bed. "Don't roll your eyes," she commanded as she secured your legs in the spreader. Then she flashed you a smile, and winked as she slid the dial up on her phone. "Or test mommy's patience."

"You're mean," you croaked, and she chuckled hotly, "Only because you were naughty first."

Then she was gone, and you were in shambles.

The signature should have only taken her twenty minutes if she rode her bike, but she took her Cadillac instead, reving up the engine so you knew your fate. Then she was gone for a length of time you could no longer register.

Natasha sat in your driveway, a neapolitan milkshake in hand with her phone propped up on the dash. Her eyes swirled with delight at the sight of you convulsing on the soaked bed, your eyes screwed shut as the overstimulation on your walls rarely ceased. While she waited for the paper earlier she was playing with the speed. Every time you came close to release you'd cry, desperate for her to kiss you dizzy.

In those moments she would sympathize, and give you about three ten second intervals of stillness. Then she'd turn it up slowly as her boredom took over, she'd force moans out of you again as she ran it up to it's quickest speed, your hips rose and so did her cunts heartbeat.

Yet she took her time getting home, on her way she stopped for fuel: a small fry and a shake. While sat in the drive thru she listened to you through the speakers of her car. The lady handing her the food was red in the face as Natasha left the line with a smug smirk.

Natasha's own cunt pulsed with need at the thought of someone else hearing you. Knowing damn well that you'd shrivel up like a rollie pollie under the same knowledge. Her bashful little dove, overstimulated to the point of tears, and still in such desperate need of a release.

The redhead turned her seat warmer on low and watched you crying as her hips rocked. She dipped her fries into the shake and mindlessly ate them all down as she felt the coil in her stomach tighten. She was so close, as were you, but only one of you could cum; neither did. 

Natasha stilled her hips and bit her lip hard. The woman was a masochist, if that wasn't obvious, but moreover she was a romantic. If she was going to climax, it would be with you.

The redhead raced up the stairs, leaving the greasy trash in her car, and stripping off her clothes on the way to you, leaving behind a scattered mess of fabric. As she entered the room she moved just as swiftly, she ripped the vibrating egg from within your cunt and replaced it with her fingers, and you screamed as the intense vibration moved to your clit.

Pressed directly into the bundle so that your vision went white before fading into stars. The redhead kissed you hard, the condensation on her fingers chilled your skin and you gasped. The woman wasted no time on slipping her tongue into your mouth and grazing over your aching teeth as her cunt pressed into you. You both moaned as your releases hit, you came around her fingers, well maybe, you almost thought it was her entire fist, but you were practically numb and rightfully confused.

Then you felt her rip away from your lips and you both glanced up to see her soaking hand.

"Holy fucking shit," she chuckled breathlessly, opening her hand to watch as strings of your arousal connected her fingers. "You are absolutely filthy detka. My entire fist." You laid there with your mouth agape as she proudly marveled at the sight of your sticky mess.

The redhead greedily cleaned her hand, and then generously shared the wealth as she leaned her body against yours and kissed you. It was sloppy, and full of the teasing love that made your very worlds spin around. Natasha needed you more than she'd ever admit, but you would always feel it. In her kiss, or the way she softly cleaned you up, and cuddled after.

Or with the words she whispered when she pretended to think you were asleep, knowing the whole time you weren't: "I love you Y/N." It was just a front, because she'd already let that slip the first time she took you to her bed. But at your closed wedding, she only said: "I do."

And you do too, love her wholeheartedly.

—

[ellieputellas]

puppy love | ona batlle x reader

headcanons — Ona Batlle as your first love You and Ona Batlle have been best friends since childhood, always knowing each other better than anyone else. But as the years pass, hidden feelings begin to surface, and what once felt like innocent puppy love starts to bloom into something more.

contains: 10k+ words, firstlove!Ona, artist!reader, fluff, childhood best friends, friends-to-lovers, longterm yearning, some angst... not too much i promise, occasional use of y/n, cursing masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize this.

firstlove!Ona and you met when you were both 7 years old. She was a new student at your school. At first, she was quiet and reserved, which made you want to take her under your wing; something about her drew you in. So, you would hang out with her during recess and sit beside her during class. It took her some time to open up but you were determined to be her friend.

firstlove!Ona wasn’t sure what to think of you at first. She was used to being alone, content with her own company—until you came along, full of sunshine, with that gummy smile and endless yapping. You were the sunshine she needed in her life. She decided that maybe it wasn’t so bad having a friend.

firstlove!Ona admired everything about you. She loved how you always took charge of class activities, acted so mature and polite to your teachers, and did so well in art class, teaching her different coloring techniques. You were her idol, and she wasn’t shy about letting you know.

firstlove!Ona grew fiercely protective of you. You were sunshine and always full of smiles and giggles. You also loved dressing up to school, with big bows and multicolored clips all over your hair which, for some reason, meant all the lame, insecure boys in your school loved to pick on you. Ona decided that as long as she was around, no one would dull your sparkle.

firstlove!Ona kicked your bully in the nuts after he stole the new pretty, blue ribbon clips out of your hair, calling you lame and girly. He was older than Ona, taller than her too… but that didn’t stop her. She chased him to no end with the most frightening expression an eight-year-old could have.

You watched as the nine-year-old boy keeled over in pain as Ona stood close by, panting after she had run after him. The boy cried out as Ona smirked in satisfaction. "Don't ever mess with her again." She barked at him.

You rushed over to Ona. "Are you okay?" To which she just smiled at you genuinely and said, "Of course, I got your clips back."

firstlove!Ona would draw only two things in art class: you, or you and her together. The teacher would ask everyone to draw dinosaurs. She would draw you two as dinosaurs. Cat? You two riding a giant cat. Her family? Her family… with you inserted there somehow. A rainbow? You two underneath a rainbow.

firstlove!Ona didn't have a concept of a crush or romantic love back then. But all your teachers noticed just how much the little girl admired you.

firstlove!Ona would often insist that you play house with her. Your favorite part of playing house was cooking “food” with her, which was just the two of you mixing soap, coins, and loose beads in a large bowl. But, Ona’s favorite part of playing house was being the husband while you were the wife. She’d brush your hair and hold your hand because, to her, that’s what husbands did. And, whenever other kids tried to tell her that she couldn't be your husband because she was a girl, she'd threaten to kick their balls too.

firstlove!Ona loved your movie dates at her house, especially when you two watched Disney princess movies.

"Ona, you can be Princess Belle and I'll be Princess Ariel!" You said, playing pretend after watching Beauty and the Beast on one of your play dates. Ona frowned. "Ew, I don't want to be Belle!" You frowned back. "Why? She's so pretty, just like you!" You teased. "I don't want to marry a beast," She exclaimed. "And I don't want you to be Ariel 'cause that would mean you'll be a fish and I can't swim that well yet." You laughed. "Then what princesses do you want us to be, then?" "We should just be our own princesses with no fish and no beasts and no princes." She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and you looked at her like she was crazy. "No prince?" You frowned. "Can we be princesses with no prince?" "Yeah, duh! It's better to have no prince so we don't have to spend all our time kissing them and we can just play all day!" She exclaimed proudly.

firstlove!Ona was already very competitive at an early age. She was the best at playing tag in the playground, never letting anyone beat her. Well, except you. Even if you were almost twice as slow as she was, she would purposely slow down her pace just so you could catch up and tag her.

"It's so unfair when you two play." One of the kids in the playground said. "Ona always just lets you win." Ona frowned at her. "You're just bitter 'cause you run like a grandma." "Well, we still don't want you to join us anymore." The kid said, crossing her arms. "You're not our friend anymore." "Good! We'll go ahead and find friends who can run faster." Ona shouted.

firstlove!Ona loved to play football. She would move so well with the ball that the parents in the playground would think that she was older than she was. (You weren't as good as she was, but that was fine. You were more than happy being her cheerleader.)

firstlove!Ona hated it when the boys she played football with would say they had a crush on you. The more they said you were cute, the more she was determined to be better than them just so you would focus on only her and not on them.

firstlove!Ona's parents quickly realized how skilled she was in football and decided to enroll her in some basic classes near your school. She was excited but quickly got disappointed when she learned you weren't joining her.

"But why can't she join me?" One complained. Her parents sighed exasperatedly. "Ona, your best friend has other interests; you can't expect her to do everything you want to do." They tried to reason out to the eight-year-old. "And her mom already told me that she isn't interested in football." "But she likes being with me when I play football." She pouted. "She can just sit in the side of the field and watch me play." "Ona, her parents are not going to let her sit around all afternoon at the side of a field to watch you play. Besides, her mom said she's taking some art classes nearby so you can visit her after, okay?" Her mom explained to which Ona just scoffed.

firstlove!Ona started playing with local boy’s leagues in your town since there wasn't a local girl's team. She was starting to get more and more popular in school due to her football skills but she never wanted to hang out with anyone else except you.

firstlove!Ona secretly hated your new friends from art class. She hated how you had inside jokes that she never understood. She hated how you had matchy bracelets with some stupid girl named Carla. She hated how she saw Carla brushing your hair after your art class. She basically hated Carla ever since Carla bid you goodbye with a "Bye, Bestie!" which was off-limits to her. She was your best friend, not this stupid girl.

firstlove!Ona tolerated your art friends just so she could be around you. All the other girls tried to be nice to Ona too but they always did think she was kinda gross for always being covered in grass and mud, and that she was too clingy and possessive of you.

firstlove!Ona was invited to her first group sleepover for your ninth birthday. She hated it; it felt like your art friends were suddenly invading activities you used to do only with each other but since you liked them, she was forced to suck it up. They made you happy, at least.

"Let's play Truth or Dare!" Carla exclaimed. "I'll spin this bottle and if it lands on you, you choose truth or dare." All the girls chuckled and yelped, making Ona roll her eyes. She hated how shrill and loud your friends were. Much to Ona's surprise, the bottle spun to face her. She groaned, unwilling to play with her clueless nemesis Carla. "Truth, I guess." The girls all thought of their question. Your other friend Julia finally asked. "Who is your crush?" Ona looked confused. "My crush?" Julia nodded. "Crush means someone you like." “Oh yeah, I forgot what it meant.” Ona just shrugged. "I guess, then it's Y/N." The girls laughed as you awkwardly looked away from Ona, feeling a little bit shy and embarrassed. You didn't know why but her answer made you a bit flustered. Ona looked confused. "Why are you laughing?" "Crush means like-like, silly. Like someone you wanna marry or someone you wanna kiss." Carla explained. “Not just your best friend.” "Oh," Ona frowned. "Then it's still Y/N." The girls laughed again and you hid your face in your hands as you grew red at your best friend's answer. "It has to be a boy, Ona! You can't have a crush on a girl." Carla exclaimed, still chuckling. The other girls laughed, thinking Ona was stupid. But Ona genuinely met what she was saying. Ona gave her a stank face. "Then I don't have one, I guess."

firstlove!Ona felt shy after the whole Truth or Dare game. She decided to stay silent for the rest of the night, conscious of what she said around your friends. They already looked at her weirdly whenever she hung out with you after your art class with her muddy boots and grass-stained shorts. She didn't like how she felt like she had given them another reason to find her weird.

firstlove!Ona also felt shy about her gift after she had seen all of the drawings and friendship bracelets your friend had made for you. All she was able to prepare was a letter about how much she loved being your friend even if you liked drawing and she liked football. She tried to make it fancy with glitter and stickers but compared to your friend's gifts, it looked so messy.

"Ona, are you still awake?" You asked as you saw the girl standing by her overnight bag instead of beside you and the other girls, who were already drifting to sleep. You walked over to her to see the letter with purple glitter and Hello Kitty stickers all over it. "What's that?" Ona looked down shyly at it. "It's my gift... but I don't know if I want to give it to you. It's so ugly." You frowned. "No, it's not." You pouted. "Well, it's my birthday and you have to obey everything I tell you to do and I want you to give me your gift." Ona hesitated but decided that she wasn't one to go above birthday law so she handed it over. She watched you genuinely smile as she read your letter. It made her feel less insecure about it. You smiled at her, holding the letter to your heart, not caring about the glitter getting on your favorite unicorn pajamas. "Ona, this is my favorite gift ever." Ona beamed in joy. "Really?" "Well, duh! It's so sweet and I like the Hello Kitty stickers, especially this one where she has flowers." You pointed it out. You paused before continuing. "Also, I'm sorry my friends laughed when you said I was your crush. Honestly, I think you're my crush too." Ona felt her face get warm as you said it. "Oh... that's nice." She smiled. "Does that mean you're my girlfriend?" You thought about it, not sure exactly how it would work out. You’ve only heard about girlfriends and crushes from TV shows, and you've only ever seen girlfriends with boyfriends. "Is that allowed?" Ona frowned. "Why would it not be allowed?" You shrugged. You couldn't argue with that top-tier argument. "Okay, I can be your girlfriend."

firstlove!Ona went home after that sleepover, beaming to her parents that you were her girlfriend. Her mom tried to ask if she meant “girl-SPACE-friend” but Ona got mad, insisting that she actually meant girlfriend with no space and that you were going to get married.

firstlove!Ona grew fond of kissing your cheek and holding your hand. She was too giddy over the fact that you were her girlfriend. Even if she had no clue exactly how girlfriends worked, she was just happy because that meant you liked her more than you liked Carla, which was more than enough for her.

firstlove!Ona frowned when you tried to tell her that your parents said you were too young to be girlfriends and to understand what a relationship was.

“That’s stupid,” Ona complained. “We watched Hannah Montana. We saw her have a relationship. We totally get it!” You sighed, shaking your head in disapproval. “Yeah… but my mom said I have to wait until I’m in high school before I even think about dating.” “Fine, just as long as I’ll be your bestest friend, over anyone else.” She pouted, making you promise.

firstlove!Ona was getting so much attention for her football skills. By the time you were 10, there was not a single person in her age group in your town — boys and girls — that was on her level. It didn’t take long until everyone was talking about the tiny girl who played like a beast.

firstlove!Ona learned about different celebrations she could do online. She thought of which creative one she could do just in case she gets a goal. While watching a teen movie, she saw some guy playing basketball wink and blow a kiss at a girl he liked. Ona somehow decided that that was the coolest thing to do. So, she started being greedy with the ball and the goals, just so she could do her little loser-ish celebration and blow you a kiss.

firstlove!Ona naturally caught the attention of La Masia scouts. They would watch her games, taking several notes. Suddenly, football got serious for Ona. She would start training more and there was more pressure for her to perform well. It was more than the twelve-year-old girl could handle.

“What if I just give up?” Ona’s voice was barely a whisper, muffled by the blankets you both huddled under. Her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and uncertain. You moved closer to her in the bed, resting on your side so that you would be facing her. Ona was resting on her back with her arm resting on her forehead. “I’m scared... I’m scared I’ll disappoint everyone, even if I train all day and barely get any rest. It feels like I’m not enough. Maybe this isn’t meant for me.” You frowned, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. This wasn’t the Ona you knew; the Ona you knew never doubted herself and was confident almost to the point of cockiness. All the pressure seemed to be getting to her. “Quitting… but you love football? How can you possibly give up on it when you love it more than you love me?” You joked to lighten up the mood but Ona took it seriously and lightly smacked you as if to reprimand you. Ona turned on her side to face you and now you were both face-to-face. “But now… I don’t know. It feels like I’m not enjoying it anymore. I feel insecure.” Her voice shook a bit. It was hard seeing Ona like this. You had never seen her so… small. It was weird because Ona’s energy and passion was never small. Not even quiet, seven-year-old Ona acted like this. It hurt seeing your best friend struggle with something that she did so well. You reached over to gently touch her face. “Ona…” You started. “I know it’s hard… but everyone just has their eyes on you right now because of how good you are. These scouts and coaches from all over… they’re here because you are worth it. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t believe in you.” ”And… even if they don’t pick you or even if you do decide to quit, I will be there. I’ll still be your number one cheerleader — on and off the pitch.” You smiled at her. “I’m here for you, no matter what.” And for the first time that evening, Ona gave you a small smile. It wasn’t the usual huge grin that was accompanied by a sparkle in her eyes, but it was something. And that was enough.

firstlove!Ona did the best she could in her next games and it showed. She was dynamite on that pitch and everyone just knew then that her future was secured.

firstlove!Ona started training in La Masia just before you two entered high school. She was still studying at your school but she was taking fewer classes and doing more training, which she didn’t mind. She was learning so much and improving exponentially, completely thriving on the pitch. Off the pitch, she was also doing pretty well. She made a bunch of friends from La Masia who she would enthusiastically tell you about whenever you got time together. The only thing Ona hated about being in La Masia was that so much of her life was now occupied by football. She'd wake up early to train, then it was class, then it was more training. She barely got time to be around you.

firstlove!Ona was so busy that she was one of the last people in sophomore year to find out about Pascual.

"Who the fuck is Pascual?" Ona asked your mutual classmate and friend, Julia. "Where did she meet him?" Julia rolled her eyes, realizing quickly that Ona had been busy for a while. "He's our classmate, Ona." She answered. "He's been our classmate since we were 10." Ona frowned. She never paid attention to the other people in class that much. She spent most of her time with you, after all. So, naturally, this Pascual guy was never on her radar. "And now what is it that I'm hearing that he's pursuing her? Who does he think he is?" Ona said loudly, not giving a fuck if anyone in the school hallway could hear. “Bet he’s like some lazy dumbass, just like everyone who has a crush on her.” "He's actually really nice and pretty smart. I know he even volunteers…” Julia went on and on talking about Pascual, seeming to approve of the guy for you. Julia noticed Ona clenching her jaw and frowning, causing her to roll her eyes. “He’s actually great, Ona. You're just too in love with your best friend for you to see that." Ona didn’t bother denying. She just rolled her eyes.

firstlove!Ona always knew she enjoyed being close to you, relishing the time spent together. She always knew she loved you… a lot… as a friend. But when the whole Pascual situation came to light, something shifted in her. She started to see you in a new light. Thoughts of you consumed her more and more, and with them came feelings she hadn’t anticipated—jealousy, possessiveness, clinginess. It was as though her obsession with you, something she’d always brushed off as just what best friends felt, was now much more intense, more undeniable. What once felt natural, and familiar, had become charged with a different kind of energy. It just felt… different.

Ona and you sat side by side, eyes glued to the screen as you both watched the new MTV show your friend had recommended. Ona shifted uncomfortably, clearly awkward about watching a show centered on two childhood best friends who’d started dating, especially with everything running through her mind lately. “Karma’s kinda annoying, not gonna lie,” you said, crunching on a chip. “Like, Amy’s so obviously in love with her, and Karma still doesn’t get it. How can she be that oblivious?” Ona’s gaze flickered toward you for a moment. She bit her lip, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah… so clueless.”

Later that night, Ona and you lay cuddled up in bed, updating each other about each other’s lives. You’d both been pulled in different directions by your hectic schedules, but you always made the most of the time you had together, finding ways to stay close even when things got busy. “And, my friend invited me to volunteer as an art teacher at the orphanage where he volunteers at. So, I might try to do that soon.” You shared, humming thoughtfully. “I’m thinking of doing it soon. He said I’d be really good with the kids.” The words hung in the air, and Ona’s mind immediately went to what Julia had said about Pascual. So, is she hanging out with this guy? Does she like him? “Hmm? Which friend?” Ona asked as she knitted her eyebrows together as she tried to keep her voice casual. You noticed the change in her expression immediately. You two had been friends for so long that you could always tell when something was on her mind. “Pascual, from class,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “You should come too, teach football and stuff. The kids would love it.” Ona nodded, but her gaze remained distant, still thinking about that Pascual guy. You chuckled to lighten the mood before reaching out to touch her arm. “I’m sure the kids would love to be around a future football star.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled, all thoughts of Pascual fading away. “You think too highly of me.” She responded, trying to play it cool but the pink on her cheeks gave her away. “But sure… I’d love to volunteer.” ”Look at us both, a couple of philanthropists.” You joked. “Who would have thought the same Ona that kicked kids in the nutsack would be volunteering?” Ona smiled and sighed. “You know, I have this new friend from La Masia who would be so into volunteering too.” She brought up thoughtfully. “Maybe I should invite her to join us.” “Ooh, is she the girl you said who plays really well?” You asked and Ona’s eyes sparkled. Ona nodded. “Aitana’s like next level on the pitch. She literally plays like Iniesta,” She gushed. “And even outside the sport, she’s so amazing. She’s, like, their class top student and she reads so many books…” You hummed, thinking about how Ona used to gush about you like that before. Now, it was some girl named Aitana. So, now, it was your turn to be jealous.

You lay on your side with your back turned to Ona, trying to drift to sleep. But no matter how much you closed your eyes, your mind was still buzzing with thoughts: the show you’d watched, the conversation about volunteering, the conversation about Ona’s new idol from La Masia, and just... everything. You haven’t done a sleepover with Ona in a while and all these thoughts paired with her proximity were just making your hormones go haywire for no reason. “You awake?” You turned around, surprised to find Ona’s eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. She looked over at you, her expression soft but thoughtful. You gave her a small smile. “Yeah…” She hummed, eyes flickering in consideration before she finally spoke. “How about you cuddle up to me? You always said my warmth makes you feel drowsy.” She offered nervously. “I could use some of your warmth too.” Her offer was light and casual but Ona was actually feeling nervous as she said it. Ona’s arms had been craving your presence ever since she got to your house but she was afraid it would be too awkward to just hug you or cuddle with you. She knew she was being ridiculous because you two used to literally live in each other’s hugs. Lately, though, everything felt different. The emotions and feelings swirling inside her were more intense and mixed with the strange rush of puberty, it made her feel shy and unsure. But she still couldn’t resist it; she missed having you pressed against her. You nodded, beaming. “I’d love that.” You shifted closer, resting your head against her chest. Ona wrapped her arm around you, pulling you in, and you instinctively placed your hand on her stomach. It was a simple gesture, but it made her acutely aware of the connection between you both—each touch felt loaded with meaning.  Once she had gained enough confidence, she started brushing your hair with her hand, her gentle fingers soft against your scalp. “Remember when we used to be girlfriends…” She asked with a light tone. “We had no clue what we were talking about but I genuinely was so into it.” You laughed at that childhood memory. “Yeah, my mom was so confused when I told her.” You recalled. “She really had to sit me down and explain what the difference between girl friends and girlfriends was.” Ona chuckled at that, the sound warm and relaxed, but then fell quiet for a moment. You could feel her hesitating like she was choosing her words carefully. “Do you think you’d ever have a relationship? Like, with a boyfriend or... a girlfriend?” She asked it so casually, but you could sense the weight behind her question. Especially with the way her voice trailed off towards the end. You’d never really talked about your sexualities, and the last time crush you had, as far as Ona remembered, was on the lion from Lion King from when you were both seven. So, it always left her curious but afraid of asking you about it… afraid that it would make her have to talk about her own sexuality which she never really wanted to think about. ”Hmm, I don’t know. There isn’t really anyone I like.” You responded vaguely. “Why? Do you like someone?” You waited with bated breath. You didn’t know for sure what you wanted to hear but it still made you anxious. Unbeknownst to you, Ona was sharing the same nervous feeling that you felt. She wondered if you could hear her heartbeat against her chest. “Uh…” She started, her voice faltering. “No one.” She sounded unconvincing which you took note of but you didn’t push any further. Huh, could it be that Aitana girl? “But I’m glad you’re my first relationship, even if it wasn’t a real one,” Ona said, going back to your conversation about your childhood memory. “That just means whoever comes next is still the second.” You rolled your eyes, the slight jealousy you felt fizzling out. She was the same, old possessive best friend you had, and somehow, that brought you comfort.

firstlove!Ona felt annoyed whenever she would see you with Pascual. She hasn’t felt that jealous and possessive over you since Carla from your art school. It was obvious to everyone how much Ona hated Pascual, bullying him for seemingly no reason. Well, obvious to everyone but you.

Ona seethed when she saw you sitting with him during lunch. Without a second thought, she stormed over to your table, where you were laughing with Pascual and the rest of your friends. Ignoring everyone, she fixed her gaze on him, her jaw clenched. She tilted her head slightly to the side, gesturing for him to move, as if the space beside you was her birthright. “Move,” She ordered in a low voice. “That’s my seat.” Pascual was used to Ona’s possessiveness. He knew how clingy she could be, and to be honest, he never minded when she wasn’t around—because that meant more time to get to know you. But when Ona was around, he knew he would not have the opportunity to get a word in without Ona basically glaring daggers at him. He sighed, trying to keep his cool. “I got here first.” “Tell it to someone who cares,” Ona shot back. Pascual muttered under his breath, but he gave in, scooting over to the other side of the table with a resigned sigh. Meanwhile, you were oblivious to the silent war playing out just inches away. You smiled at Ona, wrapping your arms around her in a warm hug. “Ona, I missed you,” you murmured, completely unaware of the charged atmosphere. Ona, however, didn’t take her eyes off Pascual. Her lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smirk as she raised her eyebrows, silently daring him to say something. It was clear she wasn’t just competing for a seat.

On another occasion, Ona leaned uncomfortably close to Pascual as he tried to focus on drawing you. Pascual automatically stiffened up to Ona hovering around him again. She was always like this whenever she was around — too intrusive, too intimidating, too there. What made it worse was that Ona had just come from training, her freshly showered hair still damp, and the droplets were slowly dripping onto Pascual and his sketchbook. Each drop seemed to drive him a little mad, the cold wetness only adding to his growing irritation. Pascual looked up at Ona and gave her an incredulous look. “What, Ona?” “Huh,” Ona said, eyeing the drawing with exaggerated curiosity. “Who is that supposed to be?” Pascual sighed, exasperatedly as he pointed at you who was sitting across the table too focused on your own drawing. “Isn’t it obvious?” Ona huffed, pretending to think. The drawing was pretty decent — better than she could ever do — but she was never going to let him know that. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at the sketch and loudly asked. “Why’d you give her a fivehead? You hate her or something?” You looked up curiously, previously oblivious to the exchange. Ona was giving you an innocent smile while Pascual was trying hard not to snap at your best friend as he muttered. “It’s just the angle.”

The poor guy liked you so much, even though you were completely oblivious to his advances. And despite your best friend making his life a living hell at every opportunity, he still tried—harder than anyone could’ve expected. Ona skipped obnoxiously to where you were sitting in the front of the class, beside Pascual. It didn’t help that he always ended up next to you. That was another reason Ona couldn’t stand him. She was always a little late to class because of her training, so the seats were usually already taken by the time she arrived. And today, of course, you were stuck with him. “Congrats on getting the best grade!” Ona chirped, throwing her arm around your shoulders before plopping herself down in your lap. "You're so smart. I’m so proud to be your best friend.” Pascual couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her usual attempt to rattle him. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t make it any easier. Ona caught the eye roll, and a mischievous spark lit up in her eyes. She glimpsed at the paper on his table, snatching it without his permission. "Huh," she said, examining the grade with exaggerated interest, "87... that's nothing compared to my best friend’s 95." She flashed a knowing smile at him. "Guess she’s too smart for you, huh?" Pascual frowned but grew flustered by the comment. “I distributed the papers and saw you got an 83 so…” He wanted to snap back but it came out softer and meeker than he intended. Ona just smirked, taunting him. “And what about it?” Pascual opened his mouth, ready to fire back, but stopped himself. He could’ve said something—he could’ve retorted—but he didn’t. Instead, he looked at you, your smile more than enough to make him swallow his pride. He knew better than to engage in one of Ona’s little mind games, especially when she was already enjoying herself. He had been working so hard on making his slow courtship of you for a year and there was no way he was going to blow it now.

firstlove!Ona was pretty content with how clueless you were with Pascual. At first, it did anger her whenever he was around, always so desperate for your attention. But now, it brought her happiness whenever she’d go to you and he was around because that meant it was another opportunity to embarrass him in front of you. Although, you never really minded their interactions, chalking it up to just banter, even going as far as to cluelessly think they were starting to be friends.

firstlove!Ona was practically seething when she got to school and saw Pascual hovering over your locker, presenting you with a red rose. She looked at your face with your doe-eyed expression and your cheeks flushed, shocked by a friend’s sudden confession. Ona had to take herself out of the scene, knowing she would react badly if she let herself watch it unfold.

firstlove!Ona finally stopped running from her thoughts, forcing herself to confront the feelings she’d been denying for so long. She’d always laughed off the jokes about her being in love with you. She never really thought too much about it, chalking it up to just banter. But now, seeing the way he looked at you—seeing how she felt when he did—it hit her harder than she expected. She wasn’t just annoyed that some guy liked you. She was hurt. And it wasn’t just about friendship jealousy—it was something deeper, something that made her feel exposed, vulnerable, like a part of her she’d never wanted to face was staring back at her, undeniable.

firstlove!Ona decided that tormenting the guy who liked you wasn’t going to be enough. This time, she actually wanted to show you that she could be better was better than him. She wanted to splurge on a bouquet of flowers but she had already blown her allowance on new football socks. So, instead, she hopped the neighbor's fence just to pick flowers from their large garden. She could get in trouble but she didn't care. She wanted to give you a bouquet of flowers that would put Pascual’s rose to shame.

The first thing you noticed when Ona came over to your house for your study date was the beautiful array of flowers she had tied together with a ribbon. You gushed at the different flowers — lavenders, marigolds, poppies. They were so stunning. “W-what? These are so stunning! What is this for?” She'd smirk and shrug, nonchalantly as she unconsciously tried to hide the scratch on her arm she got from scraping it on the fence after the neighbor's dog chased her out of the garden. “Just wanted to show my appreciation for you.” The blush on your cheeks grew and you quickly turned around to hide it from Ona. “Let me put this in a vase. Hold on.” You said as you scurried. Ona casually followed you to the kitchen, looking around your house to see if you had a rose displayed anywhere. “So, I heard Pascual gave you a rose the other day.” You paused, feeling odd that she was suddenly bringing it up after she had brought you a bouquet. “Yeah, it was weird.” You said, shivering from the recollection of the awkward interaction.” She practically beamed at your response. “Yeah?” “Yeah, I had no clue he liked me. I genuinely thought he was just around me because he was sad and had no friends.” You responded honestly as you filled a vase with water. “I had to give the rose to Julia just cause I felt weird bringing it home with me.” You sighed. “Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about it. I just feel bad for the poor guy but also… grossed out, y’know.” You said frankly. Ona couldn’t hide her smile, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe how clueless you were with him but she was still happy now that she knew Pascual was finally out of the picture.

firstlove!Ona moved out of your school during your junior year, a decision driven by her desire to focus more on her football career. She was fully immersed in the La Masia system now—training with some of the best, living and breathing the game. At first, it felt like a punch to the gut, not seeing your best friend every day. But you quickly realized it wasn’t all bad. If anything, it meant Ona was on the rise, becoming a bigger deal with each passing day, and that was something to be proud of. Besides, no matter how packed her schedule was, Ona always made time for you. The moment her training sessions ended, she’d sprint to your school, barely taking a breath. firstlove!Ona was slowly becoming a football celebrity in your community. Now, whenever she’d visit school, there were people always hovering around you to get a glimpse of the U17 Spain player. It made you proud. But… you didn’t like how girls were always fawning over her. They would be running to you in school, asking you if Ona was single. Whenever you two were out, there was always someone making eyes at your best friend. It was amusing, at first. Then it got repetitive and annoying, always leaving you feeling uneasy.

“Hi, Ona. My friend is, like, a really big fan.” A girl said to Ona, completely not even acknowledging your presence. She pointed back to their table across the restaurant where a bunch of other girls were giggling. “She was wondering if she could ask for your number.” Ona looked over to the table and saw a pretty girl with long brown hair waving back at her. It was undeniable she was stunning but Ona just... wasn’t that interested. She was here to have dinner with you after all. And to her, there wasn't anyone else more stunning than you. Ona shot a look at you, gauging your reaction. But to you, it read differently. You thought Ona didn’t want to give her number out because you were there. You shrugged awkwardly at her. “Go ahead, Ona. She looks cute.” Ona awkwardly chuckled, not sure how to feel about it. She was honestly kind of disappointed that you even encouraged her to do it. “Oh, uh okay…” She said, causing the girl to smile widely and jump up. You looked down at your salad bowl, suddenly losing interest. "Here, I'll write it down and tell her to text me that she's the girl from the restaurant or whatever."

Ona was driving you home after the dinner. After she gave out her number, you grew quiet, not wanting to talk much about anything anymore. She was confused as to why you were suddenly acting out when you didn’t seem to be affected by it initially. Could she be jealous? Ona looked over to you. You were staring out of the window, silent. But, why would she be jealous? “So…” Ona said cautiously, drumming her fingers on the driver’s wheel. “I assume the salad was bad?” You just hummed out a response, not even bothering to look at her. You sighed. “You should have just let me go ahead,” You said, shifting awkwardly in your seat. "I told you I could have just taken the bus." She frowned. “Why would I let you take the bus?” ”You could have stayed and chatted with those girls.” You muttered under your breath. “That would have made them real happy." To your shock, Ona chuckled. You turned to her and saw the expression on her face. She looked amused. You looked at her questioningly and she just shook her head, smiling. “What?” “Nothing,” She smiled, locking eyes with you. “You’re just being cute right now." You blushed and looked away, feeling your heart thump faster at how she looked at you. Ona chuckled at your reaction and said. "Glad to know I'm not the only jealous, possessive one..." And just like that, you knew that she knew.

firstlove!Ona knew at that moment that you shared the same attraction she had for you. She didn’t know how serious it was on your end but it was just satisfying to know that her feelings (or at least, her attraction) were somehow reciprocated. A year ago, she had finally come to terms with the truth: she had a crush on you. At first, the idea of being in love with her best friend had felt confusing, almost impossible to process. But over time, she stopped fighting it. She had always loved you and that never seemed to get in the way. Why should it now? firstlove!Ona was just pissed off that you have avoided her ever since that night in the car. She didn’t say anything other than you were cute for being jealous but the feeling of being caught was too much for you to confront; you hadn’t even fully accepted the fact that you were down bad for your best friend and she was already figuring out?!

Julia laughed as you told her the story about that night, clearly amused by your confusion. You hadn’t known who else to turn to; you figured your mutual friend of nearly a decade might have some valuable insight. She shook her head, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, we all saw this coming. Honestly, I’m surprised it took you two a decade to figure it out.” She shared. “I was going to push your heads together if it took any longer.” You groaned, frustration creeping into your voice. “What does that even mean? How could you know when I’m not even sure myself if I have a crush on Ona, or if it’s just some weird version of best friend clinginess?” Your friend raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the bed’s headboard. “Did you feel this way about me when I had to spend a semester in Granada with my grandmother?” She challenged your theory. “And were you suddenly jealous when I came back and started dating Carla?” You paused. “No…” “Then obviously, it isn’t just some sort of friendship clinginess.” Your friend explained it to you. “I’ve known you two since we were children and I genuinely think I learned the concept of crushes because of you and Ona.” “What do you mean?” You asked, falling backward on your bed and covering your head with a pillow. Julia’s voice softened, but there was a certain conviction in it. “Ona practically walked around with heart eyes for you. And you—well, you ignored every boy who liked you. You just wanted to be around Ona. All the time.” She smirked, though there was a hint of exasperation in her tone. She reached over to grab the pillow off your head to stare you down, making sure every point she said was heard. “I seriously reached a point where I was fed up with you two. It felt like I was third-wheeling 24/7.” You knit your eyebrows together as you listened to your friend. “But what do I do now? I obviously can’t go to my best friend and tell her I like her? I don’t even know that for sure.” ”Look,” Julia said, looking you straight in the eyes. “You have to realize that there has to be a reason that, after all these years, after all of the boys who courted you, you never seemed interested in any of them. You always just wanted to be around Ona. All the time” You fell quiet, thinking it over. Everything she was saying was true. You never had a crush in your life. You never showed interest in anyone. Whenever someone asked where you’d see yourself years from now, you often would mention still being best friends with Ona. It had to mean something. Julia squeezed your hands gently, her voice earnest. “There’s a reason for that, you know?” You stayed silent for a while before sighing. “But… what if I’m wrong? What if I tell her I like her, and it turns out it’s just some kind of puppy love? What if I lead her on?” Julia sighed, the sound filled with both frustration and understanding. She took your hands in hers, her grip firm. “It would break Ona’s heart, yeah. But honestly…” She paused, looking you dead in the eye. “I think Ona’s always been preparing for that possibility. She knows what’s at stake, and she’d rather give it a chance than keep guessing. I’m sure she doesn’t want to spend another 17 years second-guessing herself.” Your heart ached at the thought of breaking Ona’s heart, but Julia’s words carried a certain truth that you couldn’t ignore. Judging by Julia’s statements, Ona had more to lose in this; you could easily break her heart. But that didn’t mean it was exactly riskless for you. Julia’s gaze softened. “You owe it to both of you to take the chance. You need to allow Ona to love you without that barrier of friendship between you two. If it doesn’t work out, at least you tried, right?” You nodded, making it a silent promise to yourself that you would take your emotions seriously and that you would be honest with Ona once you got the chance. You looked up at your friend. “Julia, promise not to tell her... while I'm not ready yet, at least?" "Ugh, fine but if you two get married, I get to tell everyone how dumb you two were," Julia said with an eye roll.

firstlove!Ona was clueless about your emotions, second-guessing herself after the whole interaction. Did she make a mistake in thinking you were interested in her? Did she completely fumble the bag? She had no clue how to go about it until she realized she could bait you into revealing yourself. firstlove!Ona started sharing more and more photos of her and Aitana, trying to see how you would react. She would post photos of them in training, eating ice cream after school, hugging each other after a game. She’d try so hard to get a reaction but you never seemed to mind. In fact, it felt like you were back to your clueless self, oblivious to what she was trying to do. It was obvious to everyone just what Ona was trying to do, even Aitana called her out on it, saying she was done with being used as bait for her crush. It probably would have worked for someone who wasn’t you. firstlove!Ona didn’t know that it was working but not in the way she wanted to. You did get jealous but instead of thinking that Ona was trying to make you jealous, you thought that she was moving on. You thought she had finally found someone who liked her and wasn’t afraid to admit it just at the very moment that you were gearing up to confess. You started avoiding her, restricting her from all your social media just so that you would see less of her with her new crush. You decided that you would only reach out once you’re ready to talk it out with her. But for now, you had to shut her out. firstlove!Ona got an angry call from Julia as soon as she woke up, one random day.

“Are you and Y/N seriously still not talking?” Julia’s voice blared through the phone, loud enough to make Ona wince. Ona blinked away the sleepiness, squinting at the clock beside her bed. “Julia, it’s three in the morning,” she groaned, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow. “I’ve got training in two hours. Couldn’t this have waited?” Julia groaned back. “Do you even remember what day it is today?” Ona blinked, trying to shake off the fog in her mind. “Uh… Tuesday?” ”ONA BATLLE, IT’S YOUR FRIENDSHIP ANNIVERSARY.” The frustrated girl shouted over the phone, causing Ona’s phone speaker to crackle at the volume. “And you two haven’t said a word to each other in A MONTH!” Ona winced, groaning into the phone. “Great. Thanks for the reminder.” She let out a long sigh, dragging herself upright. “But, how is it exactly my fault? She’s the one who has been dodging my calls? Why should I try to make the first move in greeting her when she hasn’t even reached out to me at all?” Ona rubbed her forehead in frustration, trying to calm herself down. Once she spoke again, her voice was quieter, more defeated. “I’ve tried, Julia. I’ve been trying for years. But… I’m tired now.” “I’m just… trying to adjust with being okay with being just friends again.” Ona continued silently. “I can’t chase after nothing forever, Julia. I don’t have it in me anymore. It’s been ten years. I can’t keep chasing after her anymore. At some point, I have to stop.” Another long pause. Ona thought maybe Julia had hung up, but then, her friend spoke again—quiet, almost reluctant. “I promised not to say anything but obviously, I was stupid for promising that.” Julia muttered, the words heavy with something Ona couldn’t quite place. “But… it’s not nothing, Ona.” Ona furrowed her brows, feeling a pang of confusion. “What are you talking about?” Julia groaned, exasperated. “Ugh, I’m done dealing with both of your oblivious and mopey asses. I’ve done my part and it’s too much already. You two figure it out yourselves.” Before Ona could respond, the line went dead. Julia had hung up.

firstlove!Ona couldn’t get Julia’s words out of her head. It’s not nothing. She had no fucking clue what Julia meant exactly but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but wonder if that meant that you… No, we’re not going through another round of what-ifs, Ona. She said to herself. Focus on training now and berate Julia to be more clear later.

firstlove!Ona couldn’t keep herself focused no matter what. In the morning, she practically missed every instruction her coach said. In class, she spaced out during Spanish lessons that she hadn’t noticed the teacher was already growing red in the face, trying to catch her attention, until Aitana basically kicked the back of her seat. It was so bad that her coach sent her home, refusing to include her in afternoon training until she sorted herself out.

firstlove!Ona headed home that day, feeling defeated. She thought about you the entire day but still couldn’t come to a conclusion as to what Julia meant, and what she wanted to do with your relationship now. Sure, what Julia said gave her hope but that quickly fizzled out every time she would check her phone and there was not a single notification from you. She obviously was misreading the situation yet again. Was this the end of the line for the two of you?

firstlove!Ona stormed into her house, practically stomping in frustration.

“Ona?” Her mother called from the living room as Ona slammed the door behind her. “Why are you home so early?” Ona sighed, already feeling the weight of the day pressing down on her. “Coach sent me home,” she muttered, not bothering with any excuses. “Didn’t do well in training. Couldn’t concentrate.” Her mom looked at her sympathetically. “Aw, my baby.” She started toward Ona, arms open for a hug, but Ona remained rooted to the spot. “Does this have anything to do with—” ”Let’s not talk about her right now, please.” She cut in, her voice low but firm. Her mom pouted, looking at her daughter with careful eyes.“You two are best friends. It’s really sad that you’re not talking anymore, especially when I practically raised her like my own.” She smiled wistfully. “I even know what kind of juice she likes and doesn’t like.” Ona winced at the memories. “I… I don’t wanna think about her for now.” She said with a strained voice. There was a long pause as her mom considered her words. Then, after a beat of awkward silence, she hesitated before speaking again. “Hmmm, well, then you might not want to go upstairs to your room.” Ona’s eyes widened. “Mom… what did you…” Her mother’s eyes softened, but there was a hint of guilt there. “If you don’t want to talk to her right now, I can just send her home, sweetheart.” She offered gently, but her voice carried a subtle note of apology. Ona groaned, rubbing her face with both hands. The last thing she wanted was to confront this right now, but she knew she couldn’t keep avoiding it. She needed to face the situation head-on. “No, it’s fine,” she said, her voice quieter now, resigned. “I’ll… talk to her.” Her mother nodded, her face filled with understanding. “You know I’m here if you need me.” She gave her daughter a soft smile before walking away. Ona stood there for a moment, collecting herself, steeling her nerves for what was coming. She wasn’t ready, but maybe she never would be. She still had to face the situation eventually. Might as well get it over and done with.

firstlove!Ona didn't know how to talk to you. She didn't know how to face you after you two haven't talked in a month, which was basically centuries in best friend time. She didn't know how you'd react to seeing her again. Were you pissed off? Sad? She sighed, knowing she wouldn't find out until she opened that door.

The door creaked open and you nearly jumped off of the edge of Ona's bed. You waited with bated breath for her to enter, feeling yourself grow anxious. You finally see her. You didn't know why but you expected her to look different even if it had only been just a month; she still looked like the same Ona you knew, except maybe a bit tanner. You cleared your throat, feeling uneasy as she entered, closing the door behind her. "Hey…" You said with a soft voice. Ona leaned her back against the door, crossing her arms across her chest. "Hey." She responded with a cold voice, avoiding eye contact. You bit your lip, hesitant about what to say. "I haven't seen you in a while…" You started. "Julia told me you were doing even more training since you're gearing up for some big game." Ona just nodded, keeping her eyes on the floor. Again, you two fell silent, filling the room with words left unsaid. "Ona…" You started again, choosing your words carefully. "I'm really sorry I haven't reached out in a month. I really should have said something instead of just disappearing on you." Still, she didn’t respond. You exhaled shakily and pressed on. “I just… I didn’t know what to do.” Ona’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, but her eyes remained distant. “That night we had dinner…” you hesitated. “Even before that, I’d already been feeling weird... no, not just weird... insecure.” Her gaze finally lifted, confusion evident. “Why?” You rubbed your arm nervously, your words faltering. “I felt like we were drifting apart. You were spending so much time away from me, and then… then you were giving girls your number.” You paused, your throat tightening suddenly. “I know it sounds stupid, but I felt upset. I thought maybe you were going to forget about me when you got famous or that we wouldn't be friends anymore.” Ona’s jaw tightened, and she muttered under her breath, “Bullshit.” “What?” you asked, blinking in surprise. “You can’t even tell me what you’re really feeling,” Ona said, shaking her head. “Besides, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal that I gave someone my number. You told me to do it. And then, when I realized and pointed out that you weren't being genuine about wanting me to give my number, somehow I became the bad guy.” You sighed, feeling the guilt twist in your chest. “I wasn’t upset with you.” “Then why?” She looked at you with an almost pleading look. “I was upset with myself,” you admitted. The words felt heavy. “I hated how I reacted, how I got upset that you had realized what I was feeling... and I hated that I didn’t understand why I did react like that.” Ona tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And why did you?” You hesitated, biting your lip. Then, softly, you confessed, “I was jealous. I didn’t even know why at first… I just was.” Her expression shifted, cautious but curious. “And it wasn’t just that,” you continued. “I felt the same way whenever you talked about Aitana. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but I couldn’t help it." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "When you started posting all those pictures of you two, I felt like I was being replaced. And instead of talking to you, I just… shut down.” Ona sighed, her voice quieter now. “Look, about Aitana—” You cut her off, shaking your head. “No, I got it. Instantly got it." You said. "And, I saw you two playing online last week. She’s amazing. I’m happy for you both." Ona laughed dryly, catching you off guard. “I’m not dating Aitana.” “What?” you asked, completely thrown. She shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her arm. “I only posted those pictures to get your attention. To make you jealous.” Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “Why would you want to make me jealous?” Ona scoffed, her lips curling into a small, bitter smile. There was a moment of silence before she looked at you again, locking eyes. “I think you know why.” Her voice came out low and quiet as if she didn't want you to hear.

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken feelings. “I mean,” you stammered, trying to piece your thoughts together. You were just stumbling with your words. “If you had started dating, I would’ve congratulated you. Aitana seems like a great person, and you two would—” “Are you trying to push me toward someone else again?” Ona interrupted, shaking her head as she looked down with a dry laugh. You raised your hands defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m still figuring all of this out.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’ve thought about us a lot over the past month—how I feel about you, about us.” Her eyes softened, but her guard didn’t drop. “Then, why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” “Because I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Her stare was making you nervous. “I thought if I talked to you, I’d lose focus. I wouldn’t be able to sort out my feelings and I'd just fuck up. But I'm glad I took my time...” “And what now?” Ona asked, her voice cautious. “I realized that I like you,” you said, the weight of the confession lifting slightly from your chest. "I like you beyond just as friends." Ona’s eyes widened, but she stayed silent, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath, letting the words spill out. “I feel so stupid for not realizing sooner. You’ve been so obvious about it, but I was clueless. And worse, I didn’t even know my own feelings.” You laughed bitterly. “I’ve always liked you, Ona. But I never thought of it as a crush because… well, we’ve always been so close. It felt like we were already together. I never thought I’d have to say it out loud.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before continuing. "And, I was scared that if I had said something, it would do more bad than good." You confessed, being completely vulnerable. "We already were there for each other all these years. I was scared that if I had said anything before, it would drive you away and I would lose you. And I didn't want to lose you." Ona stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “And now? What are you trying to say?” Your lips trembled as you laughed nervously, tears stinging your eyes. “I’m asking if you still want to be my best friend, even after everything I said." Ona’s face fell, disappointment flashing in her eyes. “Oh.” “But—” You reached for her hand with some hesitation. “I also want you to know that I think I might be in love with you." Her lips parted in surprise, her breath catching. Slowly, Ona stepped closer, her eyes searching yours. A smile grew on her face as she took your face in her hand. Without another word, she leaned in, her lips confidently capturing yours. It felt firm and sure as if answering you without using words. Just like that, your insecurities melted away. Suddenly, everything was back to before. No, it's even better than before. It was what you've always wanted, even back when you didn't know that you wanted it yet. When she pulled away, her lips curled into a small, teasing smile. She looked at both your eyes and you gazed into hers, taking in the moment between you. Ona chuckled. “Took you long enough.”

a/n: my first fluff fic <3 please be nice. i appreciate reblogs, comments, likes and messages or requests! i'm open to following this fic up if i get enough inspiration later on <3 taglist: @allaboutnayeli @shayepe @tsaynsp @acrypa24 @iliketozoneout @yapileon @kelseyaparker19 @wosocity @pitchsidestories @micaluvssoccer @lenorelovesgirls @marialife03 @jana22188

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

childhood sweethearts (13) II a.russo x reader

the next few weeks seemed to pass by in a blur and before you knew it you'd blinked and it was the end of the month already.

you and alessia went from only texting when you needed something to texting every day, and then calling most nights if you weren't together, speaking about everything and nothing for hours, stomachs often aching from how hard you'd make one another laugh.

you appreciated the way she seemed genuinely interested in your job, asking questions and listening along intently as you recounted your days.

it surprised you to learn that if she wasn't a footballer she might have pursued teaching, though some of the horror stories you'd spun her about your time at uni and on placement steered her well away from that.

your heart warmed seeing how good she was with the kids when she did the friday football program, well all of the arsenal girls were, and with the program a raging success an agreement had been made between the arsenal academy and the school to offer discounted holiday programs for during the break.

you'd gone to see every single one of her games since the last, alessia's heart bursting to see you sat up with her family every weekend with her jersey on and her last name across your shoulders cheering her on just like old times.

and you were even learning to actually enjoy the game, though thats not to say you still wouldn't groan and complain when alessia would flick on a premier league game to watch after dinner occasionally.

her brothers had relentlessly teased her for it but she brushed them off, trying not to take to heart the jokes that if she didn't lock you down soon someone else might beat her to it.

neither of you had dared to broach that conversation just yet.

her mum was thrilled to see how close the two of you had become again, her parents picking you up most games or taking you out for a drink with them all beforehand, and always inviting you to family dinners afterwards.

and in turn your own mum insisted on both of your families coming together again like old times, and it filled you with joy to see how much time she spent with carol once more.

with the short distance between both of your apartments it seemed to become a routine of sorts that every couple of days one of you would drop by to see the other.

nights were spent taking turns cooking for one another, watching movies or sometimes just talking for hours until you'd both realise the time and need to hurry back home.

alessia had been wanting to ask you to stay the night for a little while now, but not wanting to push things too early on and just enjoying your company in anyway she could she'd hold her tongue every time you'd start to pack your things back up to leave.

but you'd always be sure to walk one another home which inevitably ended in the two of you kissing goodnight, and unbeknownst to alessia every single time you did you had to hold your own tongue not to ask her to stay.

you were yet to put a label on anything, and most of your 'dates' seemed to consist of cosy nights in, nothing super fancy or high maintenance.

you'd not clocked any sort of issue with it either, having known the girl for years it seemed almost silly to even feel the need to go out, much preferring how comfortable the two of you were around one another now you were both clearly trying to get things back on track.

well you didn't see an issue, not until rory opened her mouth one afternoon.

"wait you've not gone out? watching movies together or cooking dinner isn't a date!" your best friend rolled her eyes from where she lounged on your bed, having come over to help you with your quarterly closet clean out.

"anything can be a date if its with the right person!" you argued, holding up a dress to your body as her eyes narrowed and she pointed to the keep pile. "maybe once you're actually dating, but last time i checked the two of you were still dancing around that big question!" you blushed a little at her words and threw a cardigan at her.

"oh this is cute! can i have this?" you chuckled but nodded as she dropped it into the 'rory' pile which you knew was mainly the only reason she'd offered her 'help'.

"but anyway. if its classed as a 'date' it needs to be a bit more than just the two of you lounging about one of your apartments, thats just hanging out and one could argue that would be something strictly platonic!" rory pointed as you sighed at her dramatics.

"we make out, thats not platonic." you shot back with a glare as she ooohed. "and do you braid each others hair and swap secrets too?" the girl cooed as you threw a heel at her head causing her to shriek.

"sorry ro and how many relationships have you been in? oh just one? shut up!" you flipped her off and turned back to your clothes. "okay if anything its because i am in a long term committed happy and healthy relationship i can call this behavior out." rory started, pushing herself to sit up more.

"the two of you are acting like a) just best friends hanging out, or b) an old married couple. neither of which i know you want to be! you're both in your early twenties you should be going out and spending time together doing fun stuff! not curled up watching the same movies you've loved since you were teenagers. at least go to the cinema and see something so you leave the house!" rory tossed a pillow at you which you side stepped.

"so what i should ask her out to do something then?" you asked with a small frown, playing with the sleeves of your hoodie, which was actually alessia's hoodie. "yes! do exactly that. not that i can really blame you for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her but theres loads of stuff you can do to get around that." rory shrugged.

"what do you mean you can't blame me for not wanting to go anywhere super public with her?" you questioned with an air of confusion. "well because she's a fucking celebrity you head case!" rory laughed at you.

that took you off guard as you paused your sorting, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed with a frown. "well shes not really a celebrity, shes not like an actor or anything." you challenged more so for your own sake.

"please! elite athletes can be just as famous as actors or singers or whatever, if anything even more so because they're more relatable to the general public. for god sakes she's won the euros and made the finals of a world cup you idiot!" another pillow smacked you in the side of the head as you shot the girl a glare.

"she also does sponsorships, ads, she's a branded athlete with adidas, she has a management agency, she's on a professional contract with a huge salary no doubt, and she plays on a global stage for fucking england!" rory ticked off on her fingers with a scoff.

"well yeah but-" you fell quiet at that, head ticking over as it dawned on you that rory was right. "come on just look at her instagram! as if you don't notice the thousands of people obsessing over her." rory chuckled pulling out her phone.

"i hardly use it! case in point you have to text me to like your posts." you rolled your eyes as rory moved to lay down shoving her phone in your face.

"see? she's got like nearly a million followers and look at how many people interact with her posts. she probably gets like a hundrd dm's a day of randoms asking her out, maybe even from other celebrities!" rory laughed nudging her shoulder into you.

"see she met david fucking beckham and it looks like he's the fan in the picture!" rory gasped clicking into one of alessia's more recent posts.

you knew rory didn't mean anything bad by all of this but as you scrolled through the hundreds on hundreds of comments on alessia's posts you chest tightened with an uncomfortable anxiety you'd not felt before.

"god and then theres tiktok and twitter and whatever else. i liked one video about less and it took me days to get rid of the edits of her on my feed." rory shook her head with a grin, grabbing back her phone off you and switching apps.

"see?" she searched up alessias name on tiktok and your eyes widened even further as she scrolled through the hundreds of edits. "jesus christ she is a celebrity." you exhaled, pushing rorys phone away and collapsing onto your back, moving so your head rested on your best friends thigh.

"well duh, what did you think? she's that same little ten year old playing for the school team with all the boys?" "no! i hadn't really thought about it is all. to me she's just...well she's just alessia."

"and that is very sweet of you but also very naive. i don't know how i'd cope if jack was getting that many girls in his comments, thank god he's just a measly banker." rory joked but at her teasing words you felt a stabbing sensation at your chest.

"but hey what have you got to worry about? all they can do is wish, you've already got the girl." rory shrugged tapping on your forehead as you simply hummed, caught up in your head.

did you have nothing to worry about?

~

you looked up from the pan of vegetables you were frying off hearing a knock at your door, lowering the heat and quickly washing your hands.

"hi lessi." you greeted the blonde as you pulled open the door, stepping aside as she hurried in, the weather below zero this week as she shivered.

"hello, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." alessia sighed happily, your lips meeting sweetly as she pulled your body into hers. "mm no one more." the blonde grinned pecking your lips a few more times making you smile.

"dinners almost done. how was training?" you left her to unravel herself from her many layers as you returned to the kitchen, hearing her join you shortly after.

"this morning? yeah it was good! nutmegged leah like ten times, she was fuming." alessia grinned taking a seat at the bench. "thats when you kick it through someones legs right?" you asked, moving the sauce off the heat.

"sure is, look whose learning. maybe we can get you into a sunday league team next!" alessia winked teasingly as you playfully rolled your eyes. "yeah you'd love that wouldn't you." you grabbed her out a bottle of water from the fridge.

"then i had a shoot this afternoon for adidas, that was fun. i just get awkward in front of the camera but the photographer was really nice!" alessia shrugged casually, taking a long swig of water as you hummed, that weird feeling from yesterday returning as you tried to push it away.

"one to ten, how hungry?" you questioned, two bowls in front of you as you grabbed the rice, having made a stir fry.

"mmm like a six? had a late lunch, some meeting with some magazine about some article. luca said we probably won't go forward with it, they've got a reputation for twisting peoples words to create drama that isn't there." alessia recounted as you again only hummed, a slight frown on your face as you dished up.

"thank you gorgeous." the taller girl leaned in to kiss you in appreciation as you handed her the bowl, eyebrows furrowing a little as you turned your head so her lips met your cheek instead.

brushing it off assuming you were probably just tired after a long week she followed after you into the living room. "no!" you warned as she went to sit on the lounge, lowering herself instead to the floor with a roll of her eyes.

"it was one time." the blonde huffed with a pout as you handed her a small handful of napkins, having knocked over a bowl of soup all over your lounge last week. "one time was enough." you smiled taking a seat beside her.

"get a dining table then and we wouldn't have this problem." alessia pinched your cheek as you mocked her and flicked on the tv. "less!" you complained as she plucked the remote from your fingers, flipping channels.

"nooo." you groaned in realization as she put on a mens game, manchester united playing against some other team you didn't know, only recognising the familiar uniform of the russo's childhood team.

"yesss." alessia mocked happily, sighing as she placed a mouthful of stir fry in. "this is really really good, thank you baby." the girl kissed your cheek again as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you ate.

it was during this time that alessia picked up maybe there was something going on with you. normally you'd spend the entire game either making comments, asking questions, complaining about how long halves were or teasing her for 'yelling at the players like they can hear you'.

but long after the two of you had finished eating you were still quiet, eyes not even on the tv as you seemed a little lost in your own world. "hey." you snapped out of it as a warm hand squeezed your knee, looking up into a pair of concerned bright blue orbs.

"you alright?" alessia asked, hand still on your knee as you nodded. "i'm fine babe." you forced a tight lipped smile, gently pushing off her hand and grabbing your empty bowls. alessia watched you go with a frown, now almost certain something was going on for you.

initially she didn't want to force it out of you, but as you both sat up on the sofa now and you subtly shuffled a little further away from her alessia couldn't hold her tongue any longer.

"you don't want to finish it? they're up by two!" you frowned at her as she turned the tv off, turning her body to face you. "i know you said you're fine, but i can tell somethings up." alessia started, reaching out for you as you flinched away.

"see! have i done something?" the girl asked as worry flashed across her face and you shook your head. "no no its just-" you struggled to get out your words, groaning and dragging your hands down your face.

"fucking rory." you muttered cursing out your best friend for causing this swirling sea of doubt in your mind. "you're fucking rory?" alessia misunderstood, pulling her hands back with a frown as again you shook your head.

"no! god no, disgusting." you pulled a face of disgust as alessia breathed out in relief. "its not something you've done, well not...directly?" you winced as the frown returned to the strikers face. "i don't understand."

"okay, well can i ask you something?" "of course." "do you consider yourself a celebrity?"

"thats...a loaded question." alessia exhaled as she thought it over. "i don't personally think about myself in that way but i can see why i'd be perceived that way." alessia answered after a moment to contemplate.

"but why do you ask?" alessia asked both concerned and curious as to where this was coming from. "its stupid." you huffed, falling down onto your back as alessia grabbed your ankles, pulling your legs to rest over your lap, relaxing when you made no move to pull away.

"if its bothering you its not stupid, please." the striker requested softly as you sighed. "well rory was talking to me about how its weird we don't ever go out on dates, and then she made some comment about understanding why i wouldn't want to because you're a celebrity." you paused as alessia nodded for you to continue.

"then she showed me your instagram and tiktok and there was just so many comments and i promise i don't dismiss any of your achievements but i guess i never really took a moment to realise just how many other people appreciated them too." you frowned as everything rolled through your mind.

"see! its stupid. of course you're going to get thousands of comments and fans and edits, you're an international football superstar." you threw your hands up, cheeks burning up a little.

"you jealous of all the fangirls love?" alessia teased as insecurity flashed across your face and she quickly realised that was the wrong thing to say.

"hey no i'm sorry, look at me." soft hands grabbed yours and tugged you to sit up. "first of all, its not stupid." alessia promised sincerely, eyes not leaving yours.

"but it is something we have to speak about, and probably should have already spoken about." alessia sighed in realisation, taking your hands into hers again. "social media is...complicated. people think they know me or i owe them something just because im a public figure." alessia started with a frown.

"every little thing i post gets picked apart whether its of me, a holiday, a place, a friend, my family, anything. people find out which cafes i go to for coffee and show up there hoping to see me, follow me to restaurants when i post im out eating with friends, take sneaky videos when im out in public and post them. it can get very invasive and a lot of people have no concept of privacy or boundaries!" alessia warned as you nodded slowly.

"so i guess if we..." alessia gestured between the two of you with a wince as you nodded to show you understood what she was saying. "...then thats something you'll have to know is there. its not going away, if anything the more tournaments i play in, ads i do, sponsors i get, interviews, articles, club trophies, the attention and the fans and the eyes will grow." alessia spoke firmly, still keeping a hold on your hands.

"but i'm not trying to scare you, i just need you to know that its there. i would always do my best to protect you but some things are out of my hands and out of my control, i can't stop what people think, post, say, much as i wish i could." alessia sighed, bringing your hand up to her mouth to kiss your palm.

"please say something." alessia laughed but it was clearly full of nerves, her face falling as you gently pulled your hands out of hers. "its just, this is all very new. i know you're still you, but i guess the thought of having thousands of people all watching everything you do and picking it apart or obsessing over you and wanting you in comments is overwhelming." you admitted, biting your bottom lip as alessia nodded.

"i know. it overwhelms me too but i promise like you said i'm still me, none of this changes that. and if anything ever bothers you like this please just come talk to me about it, i will always listen." alessia promised, relief flooding her body as took her hands again.

"thank you. i'm sorry for being a downer!" you smiled apologetically as the blonde hurriedly shook her head. "never. but you also did raise another very good point!" alessia started as you tilted your head curiously.

"as much as i love our dinners and movies, we've not really been out on a proper date. so can i please take you out on friday night? i'll be at the school for the program anyway so we could go out right after or we could come back and get ready or we could-" you cut her off as you pressed your lips to hers, silencing her worried rambles.

"i'd love to go out on friday lessi."

~

"someones popular today." you bumped your shoulder into alessias as she broke away from your students who'd been clinging to her all afternoon, leah now running a game as she started to break them up into smaller groups.

"i like kids but i do not know how you deal with all the questions! an angel of patience." alessia sighed bumping you back with a smile. "just an angel in general." you teased, catching the girls eyes quickly flicker down to your lips momentarily.

"excuse me miss russo we are in a professional environment, behave yourself." you warned, kissing her cheek quickly when no one was looking and walking off to calm a small argument which had broken out over team names.

"saw that russo." the smile couldn't even be wiped off alessia's face at katies teasing, the irishwoman standing where you previously had as she poked and prodded at the younger girl.

"so when are you bringing your girlfriend to a team night out then?" katie sung out with a grin. "she's not my girlfriend." alessia sighed, smile dropping as katie frowned. "oh, well no one to blame but yourself there. i see the way she looks at you! smitten." the girl clapped her on the back.

"i want to its just, we've got a complicated history." alessia mumbled with a frown. "ah! who doesn't. all ya can do is not repeat past mistakes. i know none of my exes would turn up to a bar to come pick me up wasted out of nowhere!" katie reminded as alessia winced recalling that night.

"god don't remind me, never again." alessia exhaled with a shake of her head. "well then get your girl russo! you'll never know until ya ask." katie shrugged.

"we're going out tonight, i'm gonna take her to that little darts bar its pretty quiet and i think i freaked her out the other day with the whole thousands of fans thing." alessia then explained the conversation you'd had.

"mm yeah, not something i can offer ya any advice on there less. i've always dated the famous ones!" katie winked jokingly, jogging off as the whistle blew.

"did i hear darts bar tonight? i'll tell the girls!" alessia's head whipped around as beth stood behind her, racing off toward leah before alessia could say another word, the girl throwing her head back with a groan.

"alessia! you're on our team!" she was snapped out of it by small hands gripping at her shorts and shirt, tugging her onto the field as she met your eyes on the other side of the oval, a smile sent her way before you returned to your conversation with your coworker.

it wasn't for another hour that alessia was finally able to track you down alone again, and by this time beth had spread the word and the plan was made, far too late for alessia to say a word as katie gave her a sympathetic look.

"hey! can we talk for a second?" you looked up from speaking with chloe, wishing her a good weekend as she walked off and you nodded, gesturing for her to follow after you back into your classroom.

"did you drive here?" you asked as alessia took a seat on top of one of the desks as you started to pack up yours. "no leah gave me a lift."

"perfect, i'll drop you home and then we can get ready separately. i assume you'll want to drive tonight though?" you smiled teasingly, it being no surprise that alessia preferred to be the driver of the two of you.

"look about tonight-" alessia started, watching as you paused, worry flashing across your face for a moment. "i'm not cancelling." the blonde was quick to assure you as you visibly relaxed a litte.

"we just might need to change the plan? beth kind of overheard me talking to katie about it and then assumed it was a group thing and invited a bunch of the girls and its hardly a date if my entire team is there too and-" alessia started to ramble.

"less!" you cut her off as her face blushed red. "i don't mind if the others are there, really. i know you were excited to show me this place, maybe we could just get dinner somewhere else together and then meet them there later?" you suggested as her face lit up.

"yes! god your mind is brilliant." the striker pushed herself up off the desk, her body suddenly pressing yours against your own desk. "well they don't just pay me for my good looks here." you teased, again catching her eyes flicker down to your lips.

"we're still in a professional environment." alessia stated as if to remind herself more than you. "mm i guess i'm off the clock now, its after four." you grinned, hands falling to clasp either side of her face.

"you know i never thought i'd be kissing a teacher in a classroom." alessia tutted, lips curling into a smile as you let out a laugh. "didn't realise this was something you were into? didn't peg you as someone with a teacher kink." you teased, closing the gap between the two of you.

"only if the teacher is you." alessia mumbled against your lips, hands squeezing your hips as you let out a small laugh, pulling away and hugging her tightly, chin resting on her shoulder.

"i'm gonna miss when this program is over. next term its dancing instead of football!" you groaned quietly, feeling her body vibrate with laughter against yours.

"are you trying to dance with me right now?" you laughed as she started to sway the two of you back and forth. "yeah can't you hear the music? would be rude not to." alessia accused sarcastically, pulling you forward a little and taking your hand.

"i seem to remember you used to be a terrible dancer, two left feet." you grinned as she adjusted your hands, one interlocking with hers as the other rested on your hip, yours on the small of her back.

"hey thats not true!" alessia huffed, eyebrows furrowing in offence. "yes it was, remember when you tried to learn the tango to win a bet and-" you were cut off as her lips pressed against yours again. "we promised never to speak of that again." the girl warned mid kiss, starting to dance with you again.

"oh less!" you winced as suddenly she stepped on your foot, eyes widening as she let go of you and stepped back, but her foot catching on the desk she went flying to the ground.

like a domino effect as her body smacked into one of the desks it toppled over, taking down the entire row as alessia winced each time one hit the ground. a moment of silence passed before your body dropped down to the floor, clutching your stomach as waves of laughter ran through you.

"its not funny!" alessia groaned, though after a moment even she couldn't hold back her laughter, the two of you eventually laid down on the floor unable to stop, wiping away small tears which formed as you tried to calm down.

"oh wow, did your students do that?" alessia gasped as she looked up and saw the galaxy of stars all over the roof once the two of you finally calmed a little.

"no i did, makes it way easier to get them to calm down after lunch sometimes. i turn all the lights off and draw the blinds, then i get them all to pick a star and stand under it, close their eyes count to ten and make a wish for the future. works nearly every time!" you smiled fondly, alessia stealing a glance at you.

"its cool the school lets you decorate like this, i wish our classrooms were this colourful and lively. i might have actually paid attention!" alessia shrugged as you kicked her gently. "you did pay attention, just to my work so you could copy off of it." you poked her with a smirk.

"they give us some freedom just no budget, almost all of this is self funded." you explained as alessia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "wait really?"

"yeah, a lot of the stuff needed to actually run a cohesive program isn't deemed as so. like name tags, the reading books, plants, most of the stationary, the posters, all bought by me. then activities like when we have snacks on movie days, end of term pizza parties, none of thats covered by the department either." you shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"wait so you personally buy all that stuff?" alessia asked in disbelief as you nodded. "well yeah, just because the department doesn't think these kids need this stuff doesn't mean they don't deserve it. a public school education shouldn't set them back on resources and opportunities compared to a private one just because of money, i like to think im doing my bit to mend the gap when i can." you looked back up to the ceiling with a smile.

"what was that for?" you laughed as alessia quickly pecked your lips. "because teachers deserve more money. but i can't help that so i figured a kiss was the next best thing!" alessia grinned cheekily as you grabbed her shirt, pulling her mouth back to meet yours again.

though as she pushed herself up and moved to hover over you, you leapt away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

but both of you sighed in relief as you realised it was only leah who stood with a smirk and a bunch of flowers in her hand. "sorry to interrupt. but less left these in my car and i wouldn't want to steal them from their rightful recipient." leah spoke as the striker hurried to her feet.

a silent conversation seeming to be had between the two blondes through a series of facial expressions alessia accepted the flowers and leah sent you a smile before leaving, closing the door after her.

"for you." alessia blushed bright red as you stood, accepting them with your own cheeks tinted rosy pink. "they're beautiful." you swooned, placing them on your desk and pulling her into a tight hug.

"well beautiful girls deserve beautiful things."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

fourteen

[sesshous]

random dating hcs ᰔ mona, alhaitham, gaming

genre: fluff (no prns)

a/n: dating headcanons... drabbles... blurbs (not rly sure what to call these) also mona in the new cat event!! i love mona, she was the first five star i ever wanted and the first one i ever got, so i'm happy she's at least getting some more screentime haha ♡

mona

mona isn’t the most… responsible with her money. while she does have money set aside, the vast majority of her income goes to her life’s interest: astrology. but even with her lack of money, mona still wants to do things with you! … just without a hefty price tag.

mona loves to stargaze — befitting of an astrologist. she loves taking you around different heights of mondstadt! mona knows all the best spots that have a good view of the night sky — pointing out all the constellations, rambling on to you about what they mean… she’ll even make some copies of her own star charts to give you for future reference.

not really a known fact about her, but mona is actually a pretty decent cook! she'd want to prepare you a filling (and cheap), but very delicious meal rather than go out to eat. sometimes, she’ll end up lecturing you on market prices and ways you can prepare meals for a low cost — she wouldn’t want you buying overpriced ingredients when you can get just as good ones for a cheaper price!

and yes, if you ask her nicely she can create and show you reflections other than constellations with her hydromancy… just for you though. she wouldn’t want people to think her hydromancy is all just for show.

(brownie points if you share the same interest in astrology. you’re basically a match at that point.)

“hm? of course, i knew we were destined to be together — the stars never lie.”

gaming

the absolute sweetest! with how much he talks about you, people of liyue have to be living under a rock if they don’t know the two of you are together.

no has no shame with pda gaming will want to hold your hand everywhere you go. or have his arm around you. or hug you — he literally never gets embarrassed about giving you affection! he’s very into physical touch, he finds it’s comforting. i’d like to think he’s warm to the touch too — with or without the pyro vision. great cuddling material for cold days! (… hot ones too — you just have to wear breathable clothes so you don’t overheat.)

you don’t have to be into it as much as he is, but gaming would definitely want to teach you the basics of wushou dancing! he’s always there to help show and guide you through the movements — he likes to think he’s a pretty good teacher! he'll joke about putting on a duo performance… just a joke of course, haha… unless—?

oh, and man chai loves you! i like to think man chai acts more well behaved for you than he does with gaming, (he blames it on all the treats you give him) but he’s so glad you too get along! … even if man chai does steal take more of your attention when you’re together...

“y’know, i'm starting to think man chai likes you way more than he likes me! … but it's you, so i don’t blame him though, haha!”

alhaitham

alhaitham as quite the reputation for being… unapproachable to say the least. to people, his words and gaze seems judgemental, so how could someone stand to be around someone like that? lucky for you, you're able see past what those people seemingly think of him!

the books alhaitham reads aren’t made for the average’s person leisurely reading — their complex and lengthy — but alhaitham feels a kind of… fondness when you ask him to read out loud whatever book he's currently reading to you! …even if you do end up becoming a bit sleepy due to the content of the book (he thinks it’s cute. will he say that to you? … maybe teasingly.) he also will read and take book suggestions from you if you have any for him! he doesn’t just read non-fiction (and if it’s from you, really he’s open to anything. anything.)

because of alhaitham’s day consisting pretty much on a schedule, he finds himself finding ways to incorporate you into it with his free time. he prefers to spend time with you in more quiet and secluded places around sumeru away from people, but i actually feel like he wouldn’t be opposed to dates in public! going to the likes of places such as the grand bazaar to see what people are selling or watching performances that are put on in the theatre (though most of the time it’s you dragging him out… he does find it entertaining to see your face light up at all of the sights)

on some occasions, he’ll bring you along with him when he’s invited out for drinks with cyno, kaveh and tighnari. (try your best to tease him in front of them, but he’ll always have a playful quip right back at you.)

"really? because sometimes i think you love using me more as a pillow than an actual boyfriend. i’m only joking dear, i love you too.”

[breedbun]

i want to strangle him.

warnings; possessiveness, obsession, not much more

desc; i cooked but im too damn lazy to actually write the sex part. lmk if y'all want the sex part later im too lazy :(

notes; im so gonna write howl, kaeya, and kaeya as howl fanfics after this istfg

"Did you really think you'd get away with this, comrade?" Tartaglia breathed down your neck, clutching your waist tight with his fingers digging into your skin. He's clearly angry, hostile, aggressive. And you know exactly why.

Getting used to the quiet, cold atmosphere of Snezhnaya when Tartaglia brought you all the way to his nation for a little public meeting between the Harbingers was an interesting time. Between watching Tartaglia eye you shamelessly, buy you endless amounts of lingerie and appealing clothing, you were also the subject of a few other of his colleagues.

Take Columbina, for example. She was teaching you the principles and needlework of sewing. Even if most Harbingers were absolutely insane and out of their minds, it's safe to say that some of them, too had.. normal hobbies. Whilst you accidentally pricked your finger with a needle, Tartaglia was just about to rush to your side and save you like he should as your prince charming, however.. Columbina takes the opportunity far too cheerfully. Gently holding your hand like a mother to her child, she'd lick your ever so small wound and taste your blood. You were just bewildered and you couldn't help but do anything except freeze up.. as usual.

The other day, Pantalone overheard your ranting to your dearest Tartaglia, words spilling out your mouth as if you had been holding these words in forever. What you endlessly and very passionately spoke about, was a rare flower that grew with gems growing naturally from the inside as it's nectar hardened. The flower's crystalline gem only lasted about 4 hours, before it'd start to mould and decay into nothing worth more than a speck of dirt. What did Pantalone do? Of course, since your beauty caught his eye, he had gladly offered this one of a kind, magnificent flora in amber, as it was preserved to keep the gem beautiful and shiny forever. As gorgeous, as unique and rare as the flowering diamond was, it wouldn't ever match up to your glowing self. To buy this, and see a smile crack from your face, would be the most utterly satisfying thing Pantalone could ever ask for. Delivering it in an exquisitely expensive jar, your little heart nearly burst out your chest, you even made a little jump and a squeak as Pantalone so kindly handed the precious treasure over to you.

Tartaglia had still been looking for that exact same flower, for you.. yet, he stood by a corner, silently glaring with blazing fury in his eyes. It was more than obvious, just how much the other Harbingers absolutely loved to see that envious look of possessive, unhealthy jealousy on Tartaglia's face. It was beyond amusing, his nose wrinkling, the way he'd barely be able to keep a poker face, the way he wanted oh so badly to rip them to pieces, yet he could never. Not when it'd risk not just him, his family, but you too.

Other small things, such as Dottore's disgustingly gruesome humour through presenting you with a clean, white, and very much real human heart in a special pink box.. that moment when Pierro had held your wrist in his large hand much too easily, kissing the back of your knuckles as a pink blush crept up your face.. when Arlecchino got the absolute nerve to invite you to be the House of The Hearth's "mother" as a male, to be her "wife" as a male, "jokingly".. when Sandrone deliberately called you a work of art, and she'd love to dissect—Pulcinella's special treatment with you!— He had absolutely ENOUGH. If he couldn't teach them a lesson, he'll just have to fuck it into you, then maybe your cute squishy pout can convince all of them to stop.

Maybe they'll find how envious Tartaglia was, knowing that they could flirt and pull moves on you all they wanted, but he was the one you would ALWAYS pick in a room full of their bunch. He was the one you stayed faithful to, he is the one you WILL marry, he is the one who will have children with you. He is the one you love. He is the one you will never forget. He will make sure of that.

@breedbun

[kazzsk2]

The trope about a dude adopting a kid and finding hope about life again but make it a video games concept where you (the player) are a traveler that has a terminal illness and you found a abandoned kid that gives you hope for the future

The colors are still a wip

Initial sketches + close ups

More lore

Basically, the game takes course over 5 years and it sections it in 5 arcs. Each arc, you teach the girl something valuable for the future and, depending on the choices you make, the girl acts and does certain things differently.

An example is is that you teach her how to approach strangers in this post apocalypse world. This leads to her either being immediately hostile to those you run into or more social to strangers.

At the end of each arc, she runs into a situation that forces her to use what you've taught her and it can be either good or bad depending on what was learned. There's also minor missions like teacher her how to cook, traverse hard courses, and trade with folks.

During each arc, you also learn more about her past and her circumstances. Depending on what your reaction to this new found knowledge is will affect how much she trusts your judgement. Less trust means she will only do the opposite of what you do or be less helpful in certain situations.

At the good ending, you learn that she's the cure that could save you from your supposed terminal illness. She has magic that could remove it from your body, but it's ultimately your choice whether you want her to save you or not. She'll be fine with it either way because, in this good ending, you've taught her how to value life and that everything must come to an end (and she'd be generally happy just to save your life).

In the neutral ending, she saves your life without asking you and you two go on to ride in the sunset. Not sad, but not exactly as good feeling as the good ending.

Im not sure what the bad ending would be yet. Maybe both of them die, or she abandons you. Maybe she dies due to not listening to one of your lessons and it costs her life. Then you're forced to traverse that last year alone, facing what you could've and should've done better, before dying alone from your illness.

Idk, but I feel like it'd be a cool game.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the prologue of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Don't hesitate to let me know if you prefer the OC to become y/n and/or gender neutral.

Also, I apologize for any mistakes you might find, I'm just a French girl doing her best with Google Translate and her average score of 5 in English classe.

Happy reading!

Summary : We are just after Feyre became Fae and was able to get out from under the mountain. She tries to forget what happened by trying to live happily with Tamlin. Their wedding is also in preparation. Tamlin's spies let him know that Hybern possessed the cauldron and wanted to destroy the wall and that Rhysand was looking for the Book of Breathings to nullify the Cauldron's power. When Feyre learned it, she asked Tamlin and Rhysand to form an alliance. Then, they all find themselves heading to the Archerons' manor to organize a meeting with the human queens.

But Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel would never have thought to meet their mate in Archerons' manor and to share her with their brothers.

Luxiana is Feyre's best friend. She taught her everything, including how to hunt and survive. Luxiana has a complicated past. She seems fragile at first glance but is in fact extremely badass. She live in the Archerons' home.

Number of words : 1 345

Prologue

Luxiana would have done anything for Feyre. She reminded her of what she was like as a child. How fragile she'd been and how much she'd needed help. Someone had helped Luxiana and saved her, but no one had been there for Feyre. So Luxiana had taken on that role. Feyre was only nine and Luxiana was thirteen, but they had become best friends. 

Feyre thought of Luxiana as her big sister, as the one Nesta doesn’t want to be, as the one Elain should be. Luxiana had taught Feyre everything. She had taught her to hunt, to cook, to fish, to make money, to save, to hold on. She'd taught her absolutely everything, without ever asking for anything in return. Sometimes, causing herself troubles, she even gave Feyre all her money so that she and her family could live a little longer. If Feyre had achieved everything she had done, it was thanks to her best friend. 

She knew that Luxiana would do anything for her. In fact, she had crossed the wall to rescue her after Tamlin had kidnapped her. When Luxiana had arrived at the high lord's house, she had expected to find her best friend tortured and bloodied, but Feyre had never looked so alive. She assured Luxiana that she had to pay her debt for killing a fae and that she needed to stay with Tamlin. She had even sworn that she wasn't unhappy. So Luxiana believed her and left her there. She regretted it at the moment Feyre returned home, saddened by the fact that Tamlin had sent her away. 

Feyre loved this high lord, or so she thought. When Feyre had left to find him, she had made Luxiana promise not to come looking for her and to live happily ever after. 

Feyre had thanked her for all the things she had taught her and all she had done for her. For the coins Luxiana gave her to please herself and her sisters. For the hours she'd wasted trying to teach a ten-year-old girl to hunt and butcher beasts. For the bow and arrows she'd given her, including the one she'd used to kill the wolf fae. Without Luxiana, Feyre would never have met Tamlin.

Luxiana had cried a lot. She had accompanied Feyre to the wall that day but hadn't stopped sobbing all the way. Not only because she knew she'd probably never see Feyre again, but also out of guilt. Because without Luxiana, Feyre would never have met Tamlin. Without what she'd learned from her, she wouldn't want to leave her family for a fae and a world full of danger. Luxiana had cried because she knew she would no longer be able to protect the one she considered as her little sister. 

“I'll take care of your family for you,” Luxiana had promised as she gave Feyre one last hug, knowing fullyl well that this was the only thing her best friend was worried about.

Feyre had laughed, relieved. She couldn't ask this of anyone, not like her mother had, and especially not of a girl who had already sacrificed so much for her, but she knew that Luxiana would take care of her sisters for her, no matter what she said.

Feyre had thanked Luxiana and then she had crossed the wall towards a high lord and a life she knew nothing about. 

Luxiana had stayed, waiting in the bitter winter cold. Fighting vehemently against the irrational urge to grab Feyre by the scruff of the neck and lock her away somewhere safe. She was even ready to go and live with her, to make sure she was happy. 

But in the end, she had turned back, reassuring herself as best she could with the idea that Tamlin, the high lord, would take care of her just as he seemed to have done during those few weeks and just as he had done with Feyre’s family. She hated this fae because he had stolen her best friend, but she liked him for the caring man he seemed to be with her. 

Luxiana also hated Elain and Nesta. She hated them for all the things they should have done for Feyre and their family but chose not to. Luxiana understood that everyone reacted differently to their own unfortunate experiences, but she couldn't help feeling irritated by the two older sisters. But when Feyre left, she began to spend more time with them. She began to understand them. She needed to know them and to be close to them to protect them if needed. 

The Archeron sisters had even offered Luxiana the chance to move into the family home, given the constant presence of their sister's best friend nearby. So, against all odds, Nesta, Elain and Luxiana ended up becoming friends, living in the same house. 

But no friendship could replace the void Feyre's absence had created in Luxiana's heart. Not even Josher, her best friend. And the increasingly difficult missions Kaden entrusted her with didn't keep her busy long enough to keep her sadness at bay, only replacing it with exhaustion. 

After all the horrible things that happened to Luxiana, she finally had found a family in Josher, Kaden and Feyre. She could see herself finishing the rest of her life with them by her side. So when Feyre left, it was as if a part of her heart had been ripped out. The hardest thing was not knowing what had become of her best friend. If she was happy and healthy. 

But Feyre hadn't been. Feyre had been trapped under the mountain for three months and had even died there. She had suffered and almost regretted not bringing her best friend with her and forbidding her to come. She was convinced that Luxiana would have got her out of there with a few genius ideas, and the only thing that kept Feyre from fully regretting that decision was the knowledge that Luxiana was safe and happy away from everything she was going through. 

Fortunately, Feyre had received help from certain people, including Rhysand, the high lord of the night court. She hated him, but Rhysand had saved her life against Amarantha. Feyre knew he'd only done it because it was in his interest to kill Amarantha, but he'd nursed her back to health and helped her through her trials. Feyre lived in constant fear that Rhysant would come to claim his due. 

“A favor.” He had asked her in exchange for his help. “One day I'll come and ask you to do something and you'll have to do it without question.” Feyre was dying, so she'd agreed. 

Rhysand, for his part, had only asked for this because he didn't want anything from Feyre. He simply wanted her to think he was helping her in exchange for something, not because he knew Feyre could put an end to Amarantha's curse and, consequently, to his nightmare. He certainly didn't want to show his weaknesses or entrust his hopes to the wrong people, least of all to the girlfriend of his sworn enemy: Tamlin. 

That said, and Rhysand didn't know why, Feyre looked familiar to him. As if he'd seen her in a dream. He felt an irritating need to protect the human as if she were someone who meant a lot to someone he cared about. As if Feyre were some kind of sister or best friend. 

But Feyre was Luxiana's best friend. She missed her sisters, but she missed Luxiana the most. So when Tamlin learned that Hybern was planning to destroy the wall to attack the humans, and when Feyre found out, she wanted to defend her family and her best friend more than anything. 

Feyre had asked Tamlin and Rysand to put their grudges aside to save the humans. To become allies in battle. Having the same common enemy, they agreed. Rhysand needed Feyre and a place to contact the human queens, and Tamlin wanted to please Feyre.  

So Tamlin, Feyre, Lucien, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel went to the Archerons with moderate animosity.

[emjayewrites]

fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (2/10)

SYNOPSIS: Aurélien Tchouaméni, one of football’s rising stars, is used to navigating the pressures of the pitch—but nothing could prepare him for an arranged marriage. With his family’s legacy and cultural traditions at stake, Aurélien reluctantly agrees to marry a woman he barely knows. But as they’re thrust into the public eye, sparks fly in unexpected ways. The two must navigate the complexities of love, duty, and fame, all while figuring out if they’re playing on the same team—or if their hearts are destined for different paths.

PAIRINGS: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Zuri Awanto Nchang (faceclaim Samira Ahmed @/iamsamiira)

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., dry humor/wit, slight arguing, friends to lovers, instant attraction, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @essaysbyciara @saturnville @trentswrld @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu @trinitoldyouso

A/N: Please let me know if you like to be removed/added to the taglist. I don't know a lot about Cameroonian culture, but I tried...

Zuri slumped on the couch, flicking mindlessly through channels on Aurélien's massive TV. Three days in this fancy house, and she'd barely seen her "fiancé." He was always rushing off to practice or meetings, leaving her alone in this unfamiliar place.

"Some marriage this is gonna be," she muttered, tossing the remote aside.

Her mind drifted back to how this chaos began. Last year, her dad Ernest had spent months in Cameroon, supposedly checking on grandma and some cousins. Turns out, he was also playing matchmaker with his old school buddy – Aurélien's dad. Two single kids, two scheming fathers, and bam! Instant engagement.

At first, Zuri had laughed it off. "Yeah, right," she'd told her friends. "Like arranged marriages are still a thing." But then the elders got involved, declaring it a "strong match." And when the elders speak, you shut up and nod, even if you're an American-born girl whose closest connection to Cameroon was the dashiki hanging in her closet and her mother's cooking.

Zuri grimaced, remembering the elders' disapproving looks. They'd practically sneered at her Americanized ass whenever she visited, with her broken Bamum, vague knowledge of Bamileke traditions, and even worse French. In their eyes, Aurélien was the golden boy – all traditional and strong.

"Maybe he can teach you a thing or two," one elder had said, eyeing her skeptically.

Just last night, Zuri had gone full stalker mode, Googling the hell out of him. Articles about his soccer career, thirst trap photos from events, gossip about his hookups. She had to admit, he was fine as hell. That body was criminal.

"Get it together, Zu," she chided herself. "This isn't some rom-com."

Now, as she sat in his home, reality was hitting her like a ton of bricks. Next month, both families would descend on Madrid to kick off this engagement circus. Cultural ceremonies, bride price talks, all that traditional crap she'd only seen in movies.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do this?" Zuri groaned, burying her face in a throw pillow.

She was a budding influencer, for Christ's sake. Her world was hashtags and sponsored posts, not ancient tribal customs. Yet here she was, about to be married to a stranger, expected to play the perfect Cameroonian bride.

Zuri pulled out her phone, thumb hovering over the Instagram icon. She was itching to post something, anything, to feel like her old self. But she hesitated. Was she even allowed to share this shit? Would Aurélien flip? Would the elders have a collective aneurysm?

"Fuck it," she sighed, putting her phone away. She'd have to figure all of this out eventually. But for now, she was just a lost girl in a strange house, in a foreign country, waiting for a ghost of a husband to acknowledge her existence.

As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the lock caught her attention. Zuri's head snapped up, her heart suddenly racing. The front door swung open, and in walked Aurélien, looking every bit the professional athlete he was. His training kit clung to his muscular frame, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

Zeus bounded over to his master, tail wagging furiously. Aurélien bent down to ruffle the dog's fur, a genuine smile lighting up his face. Zuri took a brief moment to glance heavenward. "Are you trying to spite me, Lord?" she muttered under her breath.

Part of her wanted Aurélien to acknowledge her presence, to remember that she was an actual living, breathing human being sharing his space. But another part of her wasn't quite ready to face him. She needed more time to wallow in her misfortune, dammit.

Their eyes met, and Zuri felt a jolt of electricity run through her. Aurélien nodded in her direction. "Hey," he said, his voice deep and slightly rough from exertion.

"Hey," Zuri echoed, scrambling for something to say. "How was, uh… practice?"

Aurélien shrugged as he made his way to the kitchen. "Same as usual," he replied, pulling a water bottle from the fridge.

Zuri found herself unable to look away as he took a long drink. His head tilted back, exposing the strong line of his neck. She watched, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. A drop of water escaped, trailing down his chin and neck before disappearing into the collar of his shirt. The flex of his arm as he held the bottle made Zuri's mouth go dry.

Damn, why did he have to be so attractive? It was honestly unfair. Here she was, trying to come to terms with this arranged marriage bullshit, and her "fiancé" had to look like he'd just stepped out of a sports drink commercial.

Realizing she'd been staring, Zuri cleared her throat (and her mind), forcing herself to look away. "Cool, cool," she mumbled, internally cringing at how awkward she sounded. This arranged marriage thing was bad enough without her turning into a bumbling idiot every time her future husband walked into the room.

An awkward silence fell between them. Zuri fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, desperately trying to think of something to say. Should she ask about his day? Comment on the weather? Discuss the impending doom of their arranged marriage?

Before she could decide, Aurélien spoke up. "You eat yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning the spotless kitchen.

Zuri blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, no," she admitted. "I wasn't sure if… I mean, I didn't know if I should…"

Aurélien raised an eyebrow. "If you should what? Eat? It's your house too, you know."

The casualness of his statement hit Zuri like whiplash. Right. This was her house now. Her life. Her future. The reality of it all threatened to overwhelm her again.

Zuri shifted uncomfortably under Aurélien's gaze. "I, uh, had a cup of yogurt with some fruit this morning," she admitted sheepishly.

Aurélien gave her a look, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "And?"

"That's it," she mumbled, averting her eyes.

She didn't want to admit to him that her appetite was out of whack due to the whole "surprise, you're getting married to a stranger" situation. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was some delicate flower who couldn't handle a little life upheaval. Even if that's exactly how she felt at the moment.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "That's not enough," he said, moving towards the fridge. "You need to eat properly."

Zuri watched as he pulled out a large glass dish covered in foil. "What are you doing?"

"Heating up dinner," he replied, turning on the oven. "My chef left some pasta dish as part of my meal prep. It's like a lasagna, but not really. Hope that's okay."

For a moment, Zuri just stared at him, baffled. This man, who she'd barely seen for three days, was suddenly sharing his food with her? The cognitive dissonance was real.

"You don't have to," she started, but Aurélien cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm hungry, you're hungry. It's not a big deal," he said, sliding the dish into the oven.

Zuri found herself at a loss for words. She watched as Aurélien set the timer, his athletic grace apparent even in this simple task. The silence between them was punctuated only by the soft hum of the oven.

"So," Aurélien said after a while, leaning against the counter. "How are you settling in?"

The question caught Zuri off guard. How was she supposed to answer that? 'Oh, you know, just peachy. Love being uprooted from my life and thrown into an arranged marriage. Living the dream!'

Instead, she opted for a noncommittal shrug. "It's… different," she said carefully.

Aurélien nodded, as if he understood completely. "Yeah, I bet. Must be a big change from New York."

Zuri blinked, surprised he knew where she was from. Had he been researching her too?

"You could say that," she murmured, her mind racing. Was this small talk? Were they doing small talk now? God, this was weird. "How'd you know I'm from New York?" Zuri asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Aurélien smirked. "Your accent. Sounds like you're straight from Brooklyn. I've been to enough Nets games to know how those Brooklynites talk." He then launched into an imitation, his French accent making it sound utterly ridiculous. "Yo, I'm walkin' here!"

Despite herself, Zuri burst out laughing. It was a genuine laugh, one that surprised even her. Aurélien's lip twitched in response, and he nodded approvingly. "That's dope. Your tooth gem."

Zuri's hand instinctively went to her mouth, touching the small diamond on her incisor. "Thanks," she said, a bit taken aback by the compliment.

"I bet your dad freaked out about that," Aurélien mused.

Zuri rolled her eyes in recognition. "Oh, you have no idea. Just wait until he finds out about my piercing. That'll put him in an early grave."

Aurélien's brow furrowed in confusion. His eyes shifted around her face, then briefly to her slightly visible belly button. "What piercing? Unless he freaks out about ear piercings?"

"Uh... no," Zuri mumbled, her cheeks warming as she realized she'd dug herself into a deeper hole. "My nipples... are pierced."

Realization dawned on Aurélien's face, followed quickly by surprise and something else... was that desire? "Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Oh... that's hot."

The moment the words left his mouth, the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. Zuri felt her face grow even warmer, unsure how to respond to her soon-to-be husband calling her nipple piercings "hot."

Aurélien cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the oven timer. "So, uh, dinner should be ready soon," he said, his voice a touch higher than usual.

Zuri nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Great," she managed to squeak out, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

The oven timer broke the awkward silence, its shrill beep making them both jump slightly.

"I'll get it," Aurélien said quickly, moving to retrieve their dinner. The rich aroma of cheese and herbs filled the kitchen as he pulled out the dish.

Zuri watched him dish out two plates, her mind still reeling from their unexpected exchange. She couldn't believe she'd just told him about her nipple piercings. And his reaction… well, that was something she'd have to unpack later.

"So," Aurélien said as he set a plate in front of her, "besides traumatizing your dad with body modifications, what else do you do?"

Zuri snorted, grateful for the attempt at normalcy. "I'm an influencer," she said, bracing herself for the usual skepticism that followed that statement.

Aurélien nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Yeah? What kind of content?"

"Mostly fashion and lifestyle stuff," Zuri explained, twirling pasta around her fork. "Some travel content when I can swing it."

"Sounds interesting," Aurélien said, and to her surprise, he seemed genuinely curious. "How'd you get into that?"

As they ate, Zuri found herself opening up about her career, her goals, her struggles with balancing authenticity and marketability. Aurélien listened attentively, asking questions that showed he was actually paying attention.

"What about you?" Zuri asked eventually, realizing she'd been dominating the conversation. "I mean, I know you play football, but… what else?"

Aurélien shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not much else, honestly. Football takes up most of my time. But I like music, reading when I can, doing a bit of a podcast too. And I've got Zeus, of course."

At the mention of his name, the dog's ears perked up, and he trotted over to Aurélien's side.

"He seems to really love you," Zuri observed, watching as Aurélien absently scratched behind Zeus's ears.

"Yeah, he's a good boy," Aurélien said fondly. Then, glancing at Zuri, he added, "You know, he doesn't usually warm up to strangers so quickly. You must be special."

Zuri felt her cheeks warm again, unsure how to take the compliment. Was he flirting? Or just being nice? This arranged marriage situation was making it hard to read social cues.

"Listen," Aurélien said, his tone turning more serious. "I know this whole situation is… unconventional. But I want you to know, I'm committed to making it work. Whatever that looks like for us."

Zuri nodded slowly, processing his words. "Yeah," she said finally. "Me too. I guess we're in this together, huh?"

Aurélien's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Looks like it. So, truce?"

He extended his hand across the table. Zuri looked at it for a moment before reaching out to shake it, a small smile of her own forming.

"Truce," she agreed.

As their hands touched, Zuri felt a spark of… something. Connection? Possibility? Whatever it was, she realized that maybe, just maybe, this arranged marriage wasn't going to be the disaster she'd feared. It was still weird, still not what she'd planned for her life, but sitting here, sharing a meal and conversation with Aurélien, it didn't seem quite so daunting anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

A few days had passed since Aurélien's impromptu dinner with Zuri. He'd been swamped with intense training sessions, preparing for the upcoming match against Atalanta in Warsaw. But despite the physical exhaustion, his mind kept drifting back to that night at the club with Jules, and the image of Zuri's tear-stained face when he'd returned home.

It had stirred something in him. A desire to try, to make an effort, even with all the chaos of his professional life. He owed her that much, at least.

So far, they'd been lucky. The media hadn't caught wind of Zuri yet, but Aurélien knew it was only a matter of time. Especially if she accompanied him to Poland next week. He wondered if it was even a good idea to bring her along, but then again, keeping her hidden away wouldn't solve anything in the long run.

Their recent conversations had revealed something that both amused and concerned him: Zuri didn't know the first thing about football. It was almost endearing, but as the wife of a professional player, it was a gap in knowledge he needed to address, and soon.

Aurélien's mind wandered to their dinner conversation, to Zuri's casual revelation about her nipple piercings. The memory sent an unexpected jolt of heat through him. He'd been trying not to think about it, about her in that way, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

His father's frequent calls didn't help matters. "How are you two getting along?" he'd ask, his tone a mix of concern and expectation. Aurélien would give vague, noncommittal answers, not quite ready to dissect his growing attraction to his arranged bride.

Because attracted he was, there was no denying it. Zuri was exactly his type: a brown-skinned beauty with full, kissable lips. While she wasn't particularly busty, her wide hips more than made up for it in Aurélien's eyes. He found himself stealing glances when she wasn't looking, admiring the way her clothes hugged her curves.

As Aurélien jogged onto the training pitch, he pushed his personal thoughts aside, focusing on the drills ahead. The next few hours were a blur of tactical exercises, sprints, and practice matches. By the time Ancelotti blew the final whistle, Aurélien was drenched in sweat, his muscles aching pleasantly from exertion.

In the locker room, as he was toweling off after his shower, Jude's voice cut through the post-practice chatter.

"Oi, Tchouaméni! We still on for tonight at yours?"

Aurélien froze for a moment, the realization hitting him. He'd completely forgotten about their regular hangouts, where they'd rotate hosting duties at each other's homes.

"Uh, yeah," he managed, his mind racing. "Yeah, we're still on."

Camavinga chimed in, patting his stomach for dramatic effect. "Good, because I'm starving. Your chef better have something good planned."

"Don't forget, Kylian's joining us this time," Jude added, referring to their newest addition to the team, Kylian Mbappé.

As his teammates continued chatting excitedly about the evening plans, Aurélien felt a knot forming in his stomach. How could he have forgotten to mention Zuri's early arrival?

"Uh, guys," he started, his voice cutting through the conversation. "There's something I should probably tell you…"

Jude looked at him curiously. "What's up, mate?"

Aurélien took a deep breath. "My, uh… my fiancée is in Madrid. She's staying at my place."

The locker room fell silent for a moment before erupting into a cacophony of surprised exclamations.

"The fuck?" Camavinga sputtered.

"Since when are you engaged?" another teammate chimed in.

Jude, however, just stared at Aurélien, his eyes wide with surprise. "Mate," he said slowly, "are you telling me she's here already? I thought that wasn't happening until next month."

Aurélien nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally sharing the news. "Yeah, she arrived a few days ago. It was… unexpected."

"Bloody hell," Jude exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "And you're just telling us now?"

Aurélien fielded questions from his teammates, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He'd only told Jude and Camavinga about the arranged marriage, and trying to explain it to everyone now felt strange and oddly invasive.

"But is she fit though?" one of his teammates asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Aurélien's lips trembled with amusement. "Yeah," he admitted, "she's gorgeous."

As the guys continued to rib him, Aurélien quickly sent a text to Zuri:

"Heads up, some teammates are sliding through tonight."

Her reply came moments later:

"Should I make something?"

He texted back:

"Not necessary."

"I owe you one 😉" came her final response, making him smile despite his nervousness.

Later that evening, the guys arrived at Aurélien's house. They greeted Zeus enthusiastically, ruffling his fur and letting him jump up on them. Suddenly, a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen.

"Mate, something smells amazing," Jude commented, sniffing the air appreciatively.

The guys made their way to the kitchen, where the aroma of spices and simmering meat filled the air. Zuri stood at the stove, stirring a large pot.

"Not wifey making dinner. I see you, Aurél," Camavinga said with a grin.

Aurélien introduced Zuri to his teammates, trying to ignore the way Cama's eyes lingered on her. She was wearing another one of her baby t-shirts and a pair of athletic shorts that were criminally short, accentuating her curves.

When he noticed Cama staring a bit too hard at Zuri's ass, Aurélien couldn't help but mush the guy's head playfully. "Eyes up here, bro," he muttered, feeling a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.

Zuri turned to greet them all, her smile bright and welcoming. "Hope you guys like ndolé," she said, gesturing to the pot. "It's a traditional Cameroonian dish."

As the guys settled around the kitchen island to eat, Zuri fell into easy conversation with Kylian, Jude, and Camavinga. Aurélien watched, pleasantly surprised at how naturally she interacted with his friends.

Suddenly, Zuri's phone rang. "Excuse me for a sec," she said, stepping out of the kitchen to take the call.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the teasing began.

"Yo, Aurél," Camavinga piped up, "think your dad can find me a wife too? She's a baddie!"

"For real though," Kylian chimed in, "you lucked out, man. She seems cool."

Jude nodded in agreement. "It's great that you're both trying to make it work. Can't wait to tell Lila about this – she's gonna flip!"

After dinner, the guys lounged in Aurélien's living room, plates balanced on their laps, loaded with Zuri's hastily baked cookies and generous scoops of ice cream. The air was thick with laughter and the sweet scent of sugary goodness.

"Yo," Kylian called out, a mischievous glint in his eye, "your girl's got skills. You sure this is an arranged marriage and not you bribing her?"

Aurélien rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small surge of pride he felt at the compliment to Zuri. He watched as she laughed, the sound warming something inside him he didn't quite want to examine yet.

As the night wore on, Aurélien found himself growing increasingly antsy. His teammates seemed determined to know every detail of Zuri's life, and while he appreciated their interest, he couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to shield her from their prying questions.

"Alright, guys," he finally said, clapping his hands together. "It's getting late. Some of us have training in the morning."

A chorus of groans met his announcement, but the guys began to gather their things. Aurélien ushered them out, ignoring their good-natured ribbing about him wanting alone time with his "wifey".

When he returned to the living room, Zuri was already gathering plates and cups. "You don't have to do that," he said, moving to help her.

"It's no big deal," she shrugged. "Your friends are nice."

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the awkwardness from earlier in the week creeping back in now that they were alone.

"Hey," Aurélien said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

Zuri looked up, surprise evident on her face. "Sure, why not?"

They settled on the couch, a respectable distance between them that was quickly filled by Zeus, who flopped down with a contented sigh.

As the credits rolled, Aurélien stretched, reaching for the remote. "Well, that was…"

"Terrible," Zuri finished for him, laughing. "Seriously, who picked that movie?"

He grinned, shrugging. "Guilty as charged. I'll do better next time."

The phrase 'next time' hung in the air between them, a promise of more evenings like this. Aurélien found himself not hating the idea.

"So," he said, his tone casual as he absently scratched Zeus behind the ears, "have you ever been to Poland?"

Zuri blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Can't say I have. Why?"

"You should come through," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "I've got a match there next week."

Aurélien watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. Was this too much, too soon?

"That could be… interesting," she said slowly, testing the waters.

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Cool. It's a date then." As soon as the words left his mouth, Aurélien felt his eyes widen slightly. Shit. Did I really just say that? "I mean," he backtracked, feeling uncharacteristically flustered, "not a date-date, just… you know…"

"I know," Zuri said quickly, saving him from his fumbling. "Sounds good."

They lapsed into silence, the air between them charged with something Aurélien couldn't quite name. As Zuri stood to head to bed, he found himself watching her go, wondering what exactly he'd just set in motion.

A trip to Poland with his arranged fiancée to watch him play football. Life, he mused, had certainly taken an unexpected turn.

TO BE CONTINUED...Read Chapter 3

[live-laugh-lenney]

S I C K A R T H U R H E A D C A N N O N | A R T H U R T V |

** author note before you read; mentions of sickness, throwing up, and brief talks of drugs in the form of paracetamol **

-> yn knows. -> she just knows. -> arthur is very rarely ill, and yn envies that about him, so it knocks him for six when he comes down with any form of an illness and it's not difficult to see a change in his behaviour. -> and it goes both ways.

-> if a cold hits him hard, or the flu really knocks him down, he can barely stay awake. -> if he had any plans with his friends then she would send them a text to inform them that arthur probably wouldn't be able to attend whatever they had planned - whether it be filming for a new video, a podcast, or just meeting for lunch... -> 'georgey, arthur's pretty ill and i'm not waking him up to tell him he's gonna be late for you. just letting you know he probs won't be able to film with you today. sending apologies on his behalf. xx' -> 'Bless his cotton socks. hopefully this teaches him not to wear shorts and a t-shirt during a ChrisMD shoot in these current baltic conditions. But give him some smooches and cuddles from me. x' -> 'fancy coming over to look after him instead? i'm sure you fancy him more than i do... it's okay though. fess up and we can clear the air, clarkey. xx' -> when he does wake up, he doesn't even question the time. all he can think about is how rough he feels. -> he's alone in the bedroom. his phone is on his bedside table. and his alarm had clearly been turned off - which, really, he was thankful for because he definitely would have felt worse - and there's a glass of water with two tablets beside it. -> he knows that she knows he's ill. -> he wraps himself up warm; makes sure to put some warm socks on his feet, puts on a hoodie and pulls the hood over his head, he grabs the blanket from the bed to wrap around his shoulders and slowly walks into the living room. -> and she's decorated the living room for a cosy day spent inside; candles are lit and emitting smells he wish he could smell through his blocked nose, the tv has netflix launched up and ready for them to choose something to watch, the curtains are drawn closed and the sofa is turned into somewhere for them to lay on with everything (from chocolates and biscuits to bits of fruit to paracetamol and cold and flu tablets) on the coffee table and in arms reach. -> and they spend all day on the sofa. -> film after film after film, a nap in the mid-afternoon, watching tik-tok and showing each other silly videos they stumble upon and she enjoys having him to herself for the day and not sharing him with their friends and missing him due to his youtubing schedule. -> they order in take-away for a late dinner; a chinese because that's always their go-to meal when they can't be bothered to cook.

-> if its sickness that hits him then he really spends all day in their bed, closest to the bathroom, doing nothing but sleeping because his stomach is in knots. -> and she's there for everything that happens, even though he worries about her falling ill, instead of dealing with himself being so ill. -> "i don't want you to catch this-" -> "i'll be fine. if i catch it then you can look after me." -> "but it's horrible, lovie. i don't want you to have it." -> "i'm not going anywhere, arthur." -> "but-" -> "no buts, arthur. i'm choosing to look after you. i want to look after you. i'm staying out." -> she kneels behind him and she gives his hip or his knee a gentle rub every so often to let him know she's still there, sliding her hand round his middle and rubbing his belly in between retching and his skin is sweltering and he's sticky and warm. -> the only thing he can wear is boxer shorts because he feels hot and she's pretty thankful that the only thing she'd need to be washing is the bedsheets and dirty pants and no sick-covered pyjamas. -> she's rubbing his back as he throws up. -> she's wiping the sweat from his forehead with a damp flannel when he's done throwing up. -> she sits on the bathroom floor with him and lets him fall back against her once he tires himself out. ghostly white and covered in sweat. practically falling asleep from the moment his head his her shoulder and his face hid in her neck. -> he gets better through the day. drinking green tea and peppermint tea when he needed a drink, sipping on glasses of water, munching on dry toast and dry crackers and dry biscuits. -> she runs him a warm bath, sits with him to make sure he doesn't fall asleep and drop beneath the bath water, tells him silly stories that she has definitely told him before but he keeps asking for her to talk to him. -> and he sounds and looks drunk; slurring his words when he speaks, barely making sense to her, and his eyes are hooded and low and he has a tired smile on his lips. -> "jus' love listening to you talk, lovie. so soothing." -> "you're such a simp for me, huh?" -> "how can i not be? have you seen you?" -> "have you seen you? i should be the simp in this relationship." -> "m'so naked in front of you right now and you're not simping?" -> "i'm not looking, mister television." -> "i'd be looking at you, all the time, lovie." -> "you're just a little pervert, arthur. my little pervert."

-> she absolutely babies him when he finally comes to terms with the fact that he's sick. -> and he just lets her. -> usually, he doesn't like to be fussed over - he's always telling her that he's old enough to be able to do things himself and doesn't need other people doing things for him - but he doesn't have the energy to argue when he's ill. -> she's happy to look after him and he's happy that she's happy to look after him but, deep down, he just can't be bothered to argue with her. -> but he's appreciative of her. -> so appreciative. -> all the time, everything she does for him, he's so thankful.

[i-wanna-die-like-now]

Dp x bnha headcanons part 2! Or just weirdly specific things I see happening, idk just my thoughts on stuff.

Tsuyu gets super sleepy around Danny because of his ice powers and almost always struggles with being directly next to him, unlike Todoroki he doesn't have a warm side she can stick to.

Iida almost breaks down when Danny refused to listen to his rules by clicking on his aids (suppression for his sensitive hearing) Bakugou on the other hand finds it hilarious and takes to turning his own aids off when he no longer wants to listen.

Sato invites Danny to his weekly “sugar time” to teach him how to bake as a favour, Danny is surprisingly good at it and eventually him and Sato work together to include ectoplasm into their baking (without it coming to life) so Danny could top up his energy.

^^Bakugou refuses to let Danny near him when he cooks because of that very reason, he'd seen what his ectoplasm can do to food, he does still cook for him on occasion because he's never seen anyone savour his food the way Danny does! It most definitely goes to his head. Danny savours the food because 1. His parents can't cook to save their life. 2. Bakugous food is so much better than any type of take out and 3. He never knows when his next proper meal will be back home and is taking full advantage.

Danny goes to Hatsume for help with making a Fenton thermos (just in case) and she falls in love with the blueprints because what in the world was that layout, it's a mess that she finds thrilling to decipher it. Actually talking to Danny she realizes that no its not a mess he just has ADHD and can't write it down in a way anyone but him understood. (Danny is a genius and you can't convince me otherwise, he just has untreated ADHD 😭)

When Toga drinks Danny's blood her body has trouble with picking what form she changes into and they merge together, eyes changing and flashing in between green and blue and her hair being a mix of black and white. Her face almost looks exactly like Danny but something is off, his eyes are a little too big, his ears are a mix of pointed and normal and his skin has blotches of tan skin and deathly pale. She is fascinated with his green blood though and really wants to taste it, when she finally does get to it burns her tongue and throat and leaves her craving more. (If she separated the ectoplasm from the blood, which is virtually impossible, she'd be able to use the blood for Fenton and ectoplasm for Phantom. Because its the same DNA her quirk registers it as one person when mixed together and that's what causes them to blend)

Stain on the other hand would hate the taste and then finds out his quirk doesn't actually work on him properly, it makes his body heavy and very hard to move but it doesn't paralyze him completely because of the ectoplasm. He also definitely sees the potential Danny has.

Danny info dumps about space to everyone and everything at any chance he can, someone asks a question that shows they have a mild interest in the subject and he's off like a rocket. Izuku joins in with his own info dumping about heroes and their quirks, it somehow merges together and they start talking about space quirks and space themed heros.

Uraraka brings up sending him to space with her quirk halfway through a disagreement and Danny straight up drops it and asks her is she would. "Don't worry I can survive if I'm in my ghost form, it's for science! Hey- No wait don't walk away!" He ends up moping around for a whole week after and when Aizawa asked why he loses 5 years off his life. "Please don't ask your classmates to try and kill you." "But sir I'm already dea-" "get out!"

He duplicates himself so he can hold both of Eris hands to swing her, Eri loves to try and figure out which one is the original and she's surprisingly good at it.

Todoroki uses his fire side to help with Danny's chronic pain, after a while it becomes a habit to hold hands and all their spare time they're glued to eachother, neither of them are complaining.

[hikarimiyanaga]

Healing A Broken Heart (Part 1)

Summary :

You and Wanda are in love. At least you thought so. During a particularly bad fight, she tells you that if she had a choice, she wouldn't be with you.

And that, in your thousands years of life, is the most painful thing you've ever heard that was said to you.

PS. This was inspired by that one reddit post and it snowballed from there.

-

You drink another shot. For the past few weeks and so, this is the only thing you've done during the nights. Drink.

As if it could make you forget. Forget the pain. Forget the memories. Forget Wanda.

But it couldn't, it was only for the night for you still remember everything the day after.

You really hated being a semi-eternal.

You were created to be with the other eternals but there was something wrong with you. You didn't have any powers.

Still, Arishem sent you along with Ajak and the others as a reporter.

You had the immortality and physique but nothing else.

Still, Sersei, Makkari, Sprite, Kingo, Phastos, Thena, Ajak, Druig and Gilgamesh were family.

So you did exactly what you were sent to do. Report. Until you and the others' rebellion years ago. Now THAT, that was a fun time.

But that? Being a hero? Something you're not? It was all in the past.

You just wanted peace. When the whole Westview happened. Ajak sent you, said something about knowledge in magic.

And so you helped. Both Wanda and Agatha.

Wanda stayed with you along with the darkhold and Agatha went with her coven.

You made sure that she made the first move. And if she never truly liked you then it was also fine. But she did. She kissed you that one night and you kissed her back.

You'd cook for her. Teach her more about her own magic. And she'd love you. She'd make you laugh. She'd make you feel peace.

It stayed like that. For Five years. You were both in love or so you thought.

She was getting impatient. You can tell. You knew that your method was slow. But it was also the safest. So that she can travel freely. Did you know that she would leave you for her boys? Of course, she will. And you'd understand. Those twins were her kids. Hers. And you-

Well, you didn't even know what you are to her.

And during the fight with her, you confirmed it. She was just with you because you knew the safest way. Because you had a way.

And so you left her. And left her notes, you weren't cruel as to leave her without knowledge on getting back with her kids.

And so here you were. In a random bar somewhere in the US. Where you stopped counting your drinks and stopped caring about yourself.

If anyone needed help then you would be there in a heartbeat, helping once again. But for now? You need to forget.

"Ah. Here you are. I knew it." You hear Sersei say as she sits besides you. She and Makkari have been trying to find you when they went to visit Wanda a week ago and you weren't there. Sersei quickly texted Makkari as you drink again.

"Why are you trying to find me, dear changer?" All of the eternals had nicknames from you.

"We were worried. What happened?" You chuckle at that.

"Just that-" You don't finish when someone hugs you from behind. You laugh as you turn and hug Makkari. "Hi, fast one. Sorry that you couldn't reach me."

"It's okay. Why are you here though?" Makkari asks and you sigh.

"Not here. Shall we go on a walk?" You pay for your tab and leave the bar with them.

You all get seated at a park and you look ahead.

"We got into a fight." Makkari raises an eyebrow at Sersei. A fight? That was it? "And she told me that if she had a choice then she wouldn't be with me." That made them both flinch. They knew your insecurities better than anyone else. The two of them were your closest confidants after all. "So I left. Don't worry about it, though, I made sure to leave her notes. And if she did become the Scarlet Witch and destroyed everything again then-" You inhale at that. "Then I'll help stop her."

"But Wanda was-" you shake your head at Sersei. Just hearing her name is enough to make you cry. You wipe away your tears.

"I need some time alone. Call me in the emergency phone if any of you need help." You stand then smile sadly at them. They both just watched as you leave.

-

6 months. It's been half a year since you saw Wanda. But by God did she get even more beautiful. You were helping Peter Parker's mess and making sure that Strange didn't do that fucking spell again. You really hated that spell, for fuck's sake.

You sigh in relief as everything ends and no one needed to forget him.

"This is why I don't mess with memories." Sersi, Druig and Makkari turns to you. "It's too messy."

"Really? I thought you of all people would want to do it." Druig says and you hum.

"It would make it easier, that's for sure." Wanda flinches at your statement. She was near enough to hear but far enough to not get spotted. Did you want to forget her? "But what the brain cannot remember, the heart and soul will surely do." Wanda was sure now. She approaches the eternals and you realize her presence, you quickly go to Makkari and tell her to take you home.

"But-" Makkari tries to argue but you shake her.

"Just this once! I swear, okay? Please, Makkari. I can't. My heart can't." You get teary eyed and Makkari turns to Sersei. They turn to Wanda who was going to call you.

"Just this once." You nod at her and Makkari quickly leaves the battlefield with you intact. She stops at your current house in New Zealand. You sigh in relief and hug her tight.

"Thank you." You kiss her forehead. "I owe you one." Makkari nods and leaves you alone. You get inside and start to pack. You just know that either Makkari or Sersei will snitch on you. You don't blame them, though, you know that Wanda has been persistent on seeing you and wanting to know where you are.

You didn't know why she wanted to see you.

You don't know want to know.

But if you had to take a guess then maybe she'll break it off for real. You wipe away your tears again. The partying and drinking for the past 6 months has done nothing good for you.

It just made you forget temporarily.

You look at your things. It was only one suitcase, the benefits of having too much money. You hum.

Time to go there then.

-

Another 6 months has passed by. This time, you knew it. You have peace.

Well, you did still have nightmares. Your insecurities are still there. But at least here, you were truly alone. No expectations. No betrayals. Just you.

Not even Sersei or Makkari knew where you were. You didn't want the risk. You just can't run into the source of your heartache.

Or so you thought. Because your phone rings. The emergency one.

"Hello?" You ask and it was Sersei who answers.

"We need help! Or rather your friend, Strange needs help!" You hum as you ready yourself.

-

"What do you mean?? She can travel the multiverse????? FREELY?????" You ask and Stephen nods. "Whoa. Holy shit. You do know this makes you like the singular only person in the multiverse that can do that. Like damn." Sersei raises an eyebrow at you.

"You're an eternal."

"Semi! But yeah, I might be the only one. Nice! The name's Y/N! We have no last names." America looks at Stephen who nods at her.

"I'm America. America Chavez."

"Nice to meet you! So why am I here?"

"She needs help."

"Some monsters have been chasing me all throughout the multiverse and-" You hum. You get your phone out and call Agatha. You stop America and they all look at you.

"Agatha. The darkhold is not being overused is it??"

"Nope. Wanda is learning it slowly. Just like you taught her. Why?"

"Just checking." You hang up and hum. "Has there been any portal sightings like the one from multiverses?" Stephen shakes his head at you.

"Through every universe, right?" America nods. "You don't need me. You need Wanda."

"You sure?"

"Yes. She can travel the multiverse too. Just not as freely as America. We should go to her."

"We? Are you ready to see her?" Sersei's question makes you flinch.

"Not really but-" you look at America. "A kid needs help so-"

"Got it. Let's go then." Stephen says and you nod.

-

'Oh. She hasn't moved. At all.' You thought to yourself as you look at the house you lived in a year ago. Stephen knocks on the door and you step back as Wanda opens the door.

"Oh. Strange. How unusual-"

"We need your help. Y/N says that you-"

"Y/N!? Have you been in contact with her?? Not even Makkari or Sers-"

"That's because they're snitches." You walk up the familiar steps and smile sadly at her. "Hi, Wanda."

"Y/N. Y-you're here." She says and becomes teary-eyed.

"Yeah. We need your help."

-

"I'll get us some teas." You nod absentmindedly as you look around, everything was the way you left it. It felt like you've never left at all. The books were in the arrangement you did. The pictures and decorations were never removed. You smile a little at the pictures.

There were five on display.

One with you and the eternals.

One with Wanda and her brother Pietro.

One with you, Wanda, and everyone, as many as the frame could fit.

One with you and Wanda just hugging and smiling at each other.

One with Wanda and Vision.

"Whoa! This is you, right, Y/N??" America asks as she looks closely at the pictures, you didn't even notice her standing from the couch.

"Yeah. It's her. She lived here before." Wanda answers for you as she serves the tea. You hum, agreeing with her as you get your cup.

"So you know magic??" America tilts her head at you as she sits besides you again.

"Know, yes. Use? No." America tilts her head again so you chuckle. "I only know spells, uses, and stuff like that. I couldn't do it even if my life depended on it. Ask Sersei sometime, she knows how many times I tried to see if I ever had some sort of power." America hums.

"And you never discovered any?" You shake your head.

"Nope." You smile at her as you sip your tea. Oh shit. Did she-? You look at Wanda and she smiles at you.

"It's your favorite." She confirms and you sigh. "So, what did you three come here for? What can I do to help?"

"First, of all are you halfway through the darkhold?" You ask and Stephen glares at you.

"Uh. Yes. I am. I think I am." You hum.

"Can you call it and I can check?" Wanda nods and calls the darkhold to her hand, Stephen scoffs at you and you glare at him.

"Look away, for fuck's sake. A child's safety is on the line!" He grumbles as he leaves the house and America was about to follow him when you stop her. "Stay here for a minute. I need to confirm-" You open the darkhold and hum. "Yep. Halfway through. You can travel with America now."

"What?" Wanda asks and you hum.

"So, the predicament is this. America is being chased around by monsters. Darkhold monsters and so I have reason to believe that one of your variations is chasing her. Possibly, to either get her power or use her. I am not sure. So I need you to travel with America. With Stephen too and solve this."

"What? How?"

"By defeating the other you."

"WHAT!? HOW!?" You hum at her question.

"Simply put, you'll need to introduce a variation of me."

"You?" You nod and grin at her.

"You know the phrase, 'every me loves every you'?" Wanda nods at you. "I have reason to believe that is happening between us. Not everyone gets their shit together or end up together or even meet but still. Every variation of me will love every variation of you."

"How are you so sure-"

"Phastos made a device. I used it like a thousand times. Trust me in this. I-" your phone rings, effectively cutting you off. You look at it and see Phastos's name. "Speak of the eternal." You answer it. "Wait. You caught one??????" You hum. "Okay. Okay. I got it." You nod. "Yeah. I still have it." You nod again. "Got it. We'll be there." You hang up and look at Wanda. "Change of plans. We're going somewhere." You hold out your hand to her and she accepts it. That makes you smile, at least she isn't allergic to your touch. "Come on, America. Time to meet my family." You grin then go outside where Stephen was waiting. "Stephen, open the portal to Wakanda!" Stephen nods and does as you say.

"It's a good thing that you have Thena, huh?" You grin at him, agreeing with him.

-

You look at the monster then at Phastos then at Thena and Gilgamesh.

"You guys are seriously amazing. Thank you." You took out a pair of glasses from your pocket and toss it to Phastos. "As I said."

"Have you used it at all for the past year?" Phastos asked and you blush.

"Only a thousand more times." You scratch your neck. "One of the reasons why I never get bored."

"I'm just relieved you haven't decided to get Phastos to make you a multiverse traveling machine." Ajak says and you smile sadly at her.

"I had what they had. Mine was just the saddest attempt." You look at the ground knowing that most of the people there are looking at you.

"Done!" Phastos exclaims and you smile, relieved that the attention is off you. "So, this will hopefully will let us know which universe this creature is from and the glasses will guide us there."

"You mean them?" You point to Stephen, America and Wanda.

"What? You're not coming??" America asks as she gets your hand.

"Sorry, kid. I'll only slow you guys down." You ruffle her hair. You look at Wanda then smile at her. "Try to keep this kid safe. She's pretty unique. And she'll be able to help you too."

"Got it! Universe 567. That's where the monsters are from."

"Good. Here's how the glasses work." You begin instructing the three of them and making sure they knew what to do.

Wanda is to make sure that the traveling of the group is safe and sound, she can fight off the multidimensional monsters.

Stephen is to make sure to locate your variant.

America is to make the group travel freely.

You wave them goodbye and smile as they leave. You collapse to the ground and Makkari is by your side immediately.

"I'm okay. Just really-" you let the tears out and sob.

The dam finally breaking through. You don't know if you'll ever get over Wanda.

-

It took them a week to find you.

Turns out you were a pretty badass Black Widow in Universe 567. You were trained alongside Natasha so the two of you were like siblings.

567 you tried to refuse first but when she saw the monster firsthand, she finally relented and agreed.

Meeting 567 Wanda was chaos. She tried and tried to resist both her variant, Stephen and 567 you but when the avengers arrived, it was a done deal. 567 Wanda was captured and stopped. 567 you fought for her rehabilitation though, stating that you won't ever forgive yourself if you let another one fall to that deep abyss. 567 You promised to help her, to take care of her and teach her how to be compassionate again. As they were leaving Universe 567, Wanda couldn't help but smile as 567 you helps 567 Wanda to her feet.

It looks like your and hers 567 variants will be okay.

-

You were back in your old tattered hut in the Philippines. The peaceful home you've been at for the past half a year.

You hear your phone rings and hum.

"Yeah?" You answer it.

"They're back! Should I tell Makkari to get you?" Phastos asks and you sigh.

"No need. I had my time here already. Do you think Sersei has room in her apartment? I'd rather just room with her and Sprite."

"I'll ask her. So you're done avoiding her?" You laugh at that.

"Never. I'll be there." You hang up and look around. "Goodbye, peace." You leave and never look back.

PS.

Posting this since it's sitting in my draft. Not finished yet but wanted to get it out.

[angelynmoon]

Eldritch Steve verse

Part 5

-

She thinks of him from time to time, her child, the one her husband calls a monster, calls it instead of him.

She knows he's not her child, not by birth or blood, no, he's hers by choice, by wishes whispered in the dark of night to the deep woods. She'd prayed to the right god when she was young, prayed and prayed for a child of her own that never came.

Then she turned to other gods, darker gods that had not answered her either.

So, she'd whisper to the darkness, her hopes, her dreams, her wishes. She'd leave offerings at the edge of the treeline and wish.

And for years those wishes went unheard, unanswered.

Until the day she saw the monster, the wisp of shadow and too many eyes, too sharp teeth and danger and looked too long, too deeply, and saw her own desires, her own wishes, only there was a grief too deep to understand, too raw to be seen, and yet, she saw, she felt it in her own heart as year after year passed with no child to call her own.

That first night she ran, the pain and grief echoing in her own heart too much to reach out. Her tears soaked her pillow that night and she could almost imagine an echoing scream from deep in the woods.

But the nights that followed that first night saw her leaving plates of food at the treeline, finger sandwiches with the crusts off and cut in triangles. Sandwiches that lay disected in the mornings, meaty insides eaten while the rest was discarded.

She began cooking roasts again, meatloafs, and meaty casseroles, plates left out at the treeline, hoping to entice the shadow monster closer, hoping that, maybe, if she was kind enough to it, (she hadn't know he was a he then, so it she had called the shadow,) that she might ask it for what she'd asked all the other things, gods, fae, anything that might grant her wish, that it might give her the child she desprately wanted.

She was patient, she waited so long, she could wait until the creature trusted her.

What she never expected was that the creature would become the child she so dearly wished for.

It was strange, those first few weeks, learning what her special child needed, learning to undercook her roasts just enough that neither husband nor child would get sick, learning how to hide her child's unusual quirks from nosy neighbors, teaching her child to come up for air before too many minutes passed when he played in the pool.

No, she had always known what her Steve was, she'd wished for him so much, so badly, that she didn't care he was a monster, didn't care where he came from, what he was, he was hers, her baby, she loved him in ways she didn't think she'd ever be able to love a child of her body, her blood and so, fearing a child of such, she'd removed all possibility of it, her monster would be her only child.

And every now and again, in her hotel room, alone and away from her adulterous husband, she thinks of her child, her monster, if she's feeling lonely enough, she'll call him, and they'll talk for hours until time has her drifting off to sleep, but on nights like this, when she's feeling restless and worried for no reason, she'll wait up, waiting for the inevitable call from her child, he always knows where she is, what the extention is, when her husband is busy with the flavor of the week.

Her husband has not shared her bed since he fled Hawkins with her screaming at him from the backseat where he threw her after seeing what her son really was.

She'd watched her son get smaller and smaller from the back window, trying to break it open to get back, but it hadn't even cracked.

She'd asked Steve later if he'd stopped it from breaking, he'd told her he hadn't wanted her to get hurt.

She hadn't known it was possible to love her little monster any more than she already did until he'd said that tiny sentence after watching her husband drag her kicking and screaming from their home.

She never did forgive her husband for hitting her son, but she knew what had made her son take a chunk out of her husband wasn't that he raised his hand to him, no her Steve would have ignored that like a horse ignores a fly, batting it away but otherwise unbothered by it, no, what had her child reacting was her reaction, was her stepping between her husband and her child and her husband slamming her into the wall hard enough to make her dizzy and hit the floor, her husband hadn't laid a hand on her since, except to get her in their car to flee, blood leaking down his leg, staining the driveway.

It had never washed clean, part of her was glad for that, her husband never retuned to Hawkins to know that, but she had, she had to make sure her monster was doing okay.

But the money was hers, it was her house, her business and she would not disown her child, and she would not divorce her husband like he'd asked, no, it was a far worse punishment to keep him close, to remind him that their child was a monster, that all they were working for would eventually belong to the creature that had had a taste of him.

Oh, she would give him his divorce when she was good and ready to be rid of him, when she had no further use for him at her side, when her child's empire was set in stone and her husband's disappearance after their divorce would go unnoticed but that was not now, no, her husband still had his uses, for the time being.

But for now she sits up sharply as her phone rings, her monster is calling, she wonders if he will tell her more about that Munson boy, wonders if he knows that he's in love with him, wonders if, perhaps she will be a grandmother one day soon.

A mother can hope, can't she.

-

A/n: umm, enjoy.

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @korixae @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 1

*Chapter 1 written ahead of season 4 launching, this has been in my head a while ago, so it's amazing to find a scattering of similarities! Though as this will become romantic, it's obviously completely separate from any existing and future storylines.*

River decides, finally, that David needs some help at home, so sets about employing someone to do just that without really thinking of the consequences.

River Cartwright / Original female character (Seren is named, but feel free to insert yourself should you wish).

Masterlist

Chapter 1

River was late, of course. He'd tried to get out earlier, but he'd had to break up a fight between Louisa and Shirley. A full-on argument that had nearly escalated into physical violence and all because they were both stupidly stubborn. They’d patched things up when Shirley slid a cup of coffee onto Louisa’s desk along with the last of the Jaffa Cakes. They’d mumbled apologies and were laughing like nothing had happened when he’d ducked out. He tried not to dwell on his own stubbornness as he drove. He was already dealing with his lateness, and that was enough for right now. There was a small beat-up car parked alongside his grandfather's when he arrived, and the owner was nowhere to be seen, which meant she must have ventured inside. That was far from ideal. He hadn't had much time to broach the delicate subject with his grandfather, but he already knew from past attempts that it wouldn't be well received. The doctor had made the suggestion this time, though, that had to count for something? David had, of course, scoffed at the idea, but then two days later nearly burned the kitchen down whilst cooking dinner. Again. River was at his limit. With work so unpredictable, he couldn't be there when David needed him, and something had to change. He’d been loath to admit it, but then the doctor had passed the number to him, and he figured it was worth a try.

*

She'd answered on the second ring, bright and breezy.

“Hi, hello?”

“Are you… are you the person offering in-home support?” He asked hurriedly, as if his grandfather would overhear him despite the distance between them.

“No, Poppy, not the icing just yet, sweetheart. Sorry, yes, that's me. I'm just with a family at the moment. It's my last day so we're making cakes.”

“Cakes? I didn't know that was part of what you do?”

“Well it depends on the family, really. I've been looking after Poppy's mum, while she recovers from an operation, so this time it's been school runs, helping with homework, general domestic work. My last family before this one I was looking after an elderly couple, cooking, cleaning, administering medicines. My duties are often different depending on the people. I used to just sit and read aloud to one lady.”

“Oh.” He said quietly.

“You're new to this?” She guessed. “That's OK, why don't you let me know your circumstances?”

*

And so here he was, about to be in trouble on all fronts. His grandfather would hate that he was hiring help, and the woman he hired was about to bear the brunt of David's temper and his rapidly deteriorating mind, so of course, she’d end up hating River for that. He braced himself for a frosty welcome. He opened the old oak door with a soft click, trying not to insert himself immediately into the argument which was… not occurring? He moved quietly through the downstairs of the house, following the sounds from the library.

“And now, my dear, you see I have you in check.” His grandfather said, River could hear the smile in his voice. “We also have company at last. Come on in, my boy.” Rumbled. He peered around the door to see a teapot and three cups laid out on the table with two in use, and his grandfather sat across from a woman with the chessboard between them. “This young lady is from the book club at the local library. She’s trying to get me to sign up!” A frown crossed River’s face.

“Well actually,” the woman began,

“Sounds great, grandad. And you're… teaching her to play chess?” River interrupted.

“Exactly that. It's a curious game of logic and passion, everyone should learn it.” David replied gleefully.

“If I could just have a word, Mr Cartwright?” The woman spoke up again.

“Yes?” Both Cartwright gentlemen answered before River took the lead,

“Yes, of course.”

“Always turned by a pretty girl,” David rolled his eyes.

“Thanks for that, Grandad,” he muttered. “I'll put some more tea on?”

“Good man.” David settled back at the table and reviewed the chess board. “Don't go far, young lady, there's still a lot to learn.” The woman followed River to the kitchen where he braced his hands on the countertop with his head down.

“I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry I'm late.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Seren.” She offered her hand, and he shook it.

“Yes, yeah, sorry, that too - nice to meet you, please, call me River. He thinks you're from the library?”

“I did introduce myself, we started talking about books, so I think he must have mixed the conversation up a little. It's no harm, but we should let him know why I'm really here?”

“And we will, for sure, I just… he's… the Old Bastard isn’t going to be happy about this, so I need to do it in the right way. Names and faces are getting harder for him. I’ve lost count how many times he’s nearly burned this kitchen down. He sleeps with a gun by his bed for fucks sake. Sorry.” Seren stayed silent and he prayed to any deity he could think of that she wouldn’t walk out.

“It's best not to prolong the lie, it'll cause more confusion later on. If it helps, I have a lot of experience with this, I’m not scared of the outbursts and moments of confusion and I’ll be right here to remind him of that during his times of clarity.”

“I get that, I do,” he stopped, looking out at the garden. “I don't know how to do this.” He admitted sadly. Seren joined him at the window.

“No one does.” She said softly. “I recommend we start with keeping it very simple, very factual. Explain that you're worried and you think having someone close by will help put your mind at rest.” He nodded in agreement.

“Can't promise it'll go well?”

“I know you can't. Unfortunately, neither can I.” She reasoned. She let him lead the way back to the library where David was still plotting his next move.

“Grandad? I think there's been a mix up. I thought we could do with some help around the house, this is Seren. I’ve asked her to look in on you, maybe make a bit of dinner a few evenings a week.”

“A babysitter?” David’s previously amenable demeanour was gone in an instant.

“No, not… not a babysitter at all. Just some extra help, some company for you?” River held up his hands in surrender.

“Young lady, get out of my house,” David demanded sternly.

“Stay, please Seren.” River implored. The woman looked genuinely torn.

“Let me give you both some space,” she concluded, turning to River. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” He nodded gratefully, the relief that she wasn’t leaving the house entirely was clear to see.

“Grandad, please?” River pleaded once they were alone. The elder Cartwright ignored him, turning his attention to the chessboard again. “I’m worried about you. Fires in the kitchen? A gun by your bed?”

“They’re always watching, we must remain vigilant.” His grandfather said quietly. River dragged a hand down his face.

“No one is watching you.”

“How would you know? Over with the rejects, out of the loop and fussing over parking tickets and unpaid licence fees.” River felt the blow. He’d worked so hard, or as hard as was allowed at Slough House, to prove to David that he was still a capable Agent. Someone who did have a future with the service. His grandfather had never doubted the Stanstead stitch up, in fact it was more proof to him that they were trying hard to erase the Cartwright name, but there was still an unspoken assumption that River could have and should have done more. River felt the pressure of it every day in the offhand comments his grandfather made. And those were only getting more frequent with David’s declining mental capabilities.

“You’re right. I don’t know,” River was forced to admit. “But the thought of you here alone terrifies me and I need you to understand why I’m doing this.”

“I won’t pay her.”

“I will.”

“I won’t speak with her or engage with her while she’s here.”

“Fine, I’ll let her know.”

“I don’t like this, River.”

“I know you don’t. But it’s happening. I’m sorry, but… I can’t take no for an answer on this. I’m giving her a key to come and go as she needs to. Speak to her or don’t, she’ll make sure you have food, she’ll collect your medications, she’ll be here whether you agree or not.”

“I think it’s time you left, don’t you?” David concluded, completing the chess game he’d ultimately ended up playing with himself. River placed a hand on the old man’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” he promised. He found Seren in the kitchen, as promised, her head deep in the fridge. She pulled out a few items and threw them into the open bin she’d pulled closer.

“Something stinks in here. I’m just getting rid of anything out of date and I’ll refill it tomorrow.” She told him, grimacing at the smell from the salad drawer. From a quick glance, he could see that the teapot and cups had been washed, the table was clear of clutter and crumbs and the grimey window had been pushed open to let in the last of the day’s sun. He released a long sigh he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in.

“Thank you,” he began, not really knowing what to say. She’d done more in the ten minutes she’d been left alone than David had managed for the last six months or more. He took a key from his pocket, along with his wallet, and started counting out a few twenty pound notes. She closed the fridge and turned back to face him.

“The seal is gone on the fridge door. I’ll get a new one and fit it in the next few days.” She scribbled on a notepad he hadn’t spotted on the table, the makings of a to do list. He could already see clean windows and food shop on the list. He took out another twenty quid.

“This is all the cash I have on me right now,” he explained, holding it out. She took the notes from him, kept twenty and passed the rest back to him.

“This covers the shopping. We’ll work out the rest later.”

“He won’t give you a penny-”

“I know, and that’s fine. I can handle this.”

“He’s going to be mad at you when he’s with it enough to know what’s going on, and he’s going to be mad at you when he hasn’t got a clue who you are or what’s going on.”

“So he’s going to be mad at me. I’ll get over it.” She assured him. He stared at the woman in front of him, a smear of dust on her forehead and her hands on her hips. His grandfather’s comments rang in his ear; always turned by a pretty girl. River sighed.

“Are you sure?”

“Let me do my job, Mr Cartwright.” She told him, taking up her notepad and the key. “I’ll be over in the morning with some shopping, I’ll batch cook some meals and start some household stuff. I’ll keep out of his way unless he needs me for something.” And then she was gone, only the scent of her perfume remaining.

*

It became a ridiculous dance. More often than not, River would arrive in the early evening a couple of times a week to find Seren in one room and David in another. He would go between the two trying to determine whether it had been a good day, a bad day or just a day. By the end of the first week, River was convinced Seren hated him for dragging her into his mess. David wasn't speaking to either of them unless it was to shout at them (separately of course). Eventually River was somewhat forgiven enough that David would at least speak to him but he knew that the same could not be said for Seren. River found himself half dreading and half looking forward to his visits. His grandfather essentially ignored Seren which made for an unwelcoming atmosphere but she'd quickly become the highlight of his day.

“Is that for me?” She asked one month into the role. She'd been standing on a windowsill when he arrived, cleaning what she declared to be the final window. He'd set about making dinner and trying to convince David to at least be cordial. She came down a short time later, gathering up her book, phone, notepad and anything else she intended to take with her to find that River had three meals plated up.

“If you'd like to stay? Thought it might be nice?”

“Nice?” She looked behind her to check that David wasn't in earshot, “River, I have spent a month being ignored when he's lucid and shouted and screamed at when he's not. I've cooked, cleaned and fixed things. In that time he has not spoken a single nice word to me, and that's absolutely fine, that's his choice. But I'm sorry, I don't intend to stay a little longer because you've cooked.” He looked aghast.

“I'm sorry. It was selfish to think that you might want to stay.”

“No, it's… it's not selfish. It was thoughtful of you, thank you. I just can't stick around. I'm not wanted here, that's been made clear. I just want to do my job and go home and drown in the bath.” Images which would likely earn him a black eye filled River's mind.

“Leave the girl alone River, let her go home.” David said entering the kitchen. Seren took a big step back, River hadn’t realised how closely they'd been standing.

“Goodnight.” She mumbled and headed out the back door.

*

Seren rested her head against the steering wheel of her car. For six long weeks she’d been David Cartwright’s metaphorical punching bag. Unwilling to tolerate her presence when he was lucid, he was angry and rude, and then in moments when his memories and mind were not his own, the outbursts were worse. She wasn’t sure which of his personalities she preferred, neither were remotely nice to her. She’d transformed the house, fixed multiple broken household items - the fridge, the floorboard she kept tripping on in the hallway, the plug socket she’d been horrified to see sparks coming out of when she used it. Fortunately it had been a socket David hadn’t bothered using, if he had, she was fairly sure the house would have burned to the ground long ago. The fridge was stocked with easy to heat up meals and snacks, and every single surface and window had been cleaned. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she roused herself to retrieve it. River’s name displayed on the caller I.D.

“Hey, how did it go today?” He asked as soon as she answered. She sighed heavily,

“Yeah, fine. Same as usual.”

“Are you sure? Are you ok?”

“I’m sure.” She said firmly. They fell into silence.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” He asked. She stayed silent and swallowed thickly, her shaky breath giving away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “Seren, I don’t… is there anything else I can do?” He begged.

“No. We’ll get there, it’s just taking some time. I’m fine, really.” She brushed the tears away, angry with herself for letting the situation get to her, angry with the Cartwright’s for being so stubborn.

“I’ll be there tomorrow.” He promised. She hung up without saying goodbye.

*

The next morning she let herself into the house as usual. She called out and made her way to the sitting room to offer a cup of tea, as she had every morning and as he’d ignored every morning. David met her in the hallway, a pistol in his hand pointing directly at her. Her hands went up immediately and she searched his face for whether or not he recognised her.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?” He demanded.

“David, it’s Seren, I’ve been helping out for a few weeks? Cooking, making sure you’re taking your medication and stuff like that?” She spoke softly and tried desperately to keep the tremor from her voice and tried to bring down the tension.

“I don’t know you. I don’t want you here.”

“I know, I know. Believe me, that’s an ongoing battle for another time. Can we put the gun down, David, please?” She pleaded. She knew that he was still physically fairly healthy, strong enough to slam doors in her face and throw the odd mug of tea across the room when he so wished. He was at least as tall as River which meant he towered over her by nearly a whole foot. The gun shook in his hand and she began to fear that rather than pull the trigger on purpose, he would do it by accident. She backed up slowly, towards the foot of the stairs and as soon as she had space between them, she ran for the only room she knew had a lock on the door. Age on her side, she slammed the bathroom door as he reached the top step. She pushed the lock into place and dropped down away from the door, crawling under the sink. Her phone was still in the back pocket of her jeans so she dragged it out and dialled the number that had last called her.

“River, he's just pulled a gun on me. I thought you were making shit up before but he has a fucking gun!”

“Shit, shit. Is he… himself?”

“No, he has no idea who I am.” The bathroom door rocked on its hinges as David banged on it, causing Seren to scream down the phone.

“I’m on my way.”

“I need to call the police.”

“No, please, please don’t do that. I’ll be there in an hour. Less than. Stay down, keep the door locked.” He begged and hung up before she could argue. The door stopped shaking. She waited quietly,

“Get out of there before I shoot through the lock!” He bellowed, banging the door again. Seren flinched, hugging her knees. She knew full well it would take longer than an hour unless he broke every single speed limit on the way. Seren was eyeing up the window and trying to work out if she could manage the jump without breaking anything when the door banged again.

“Shit!” David called out, clearly in pain.

“David? Are you ok? What happened?” She asked as gently as she could, crawling back towards the door. She knelt in front of it and listened for movement on the other side. There was nothing but silence. “Shit, shit, shit.” She cursed, there was no decision to make, she knew what she needed to do but still dreaded it. She reached up to slide back the lock and opened the door a crack. David sat in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a bloodied hand in his lap. He looked up at the daylight spilling into the space and saw the tears on her face and the fear in her eyes. “What happened David?” She whispered.

“Oh. Oh my dear girl, I’m not sure,” he sounded confused and scared, no longer imprisoned by his mind, he recognised her. “Seren, I’m not sure what happened.” He admitted. She fell to her knees in relief at hearing him use her name. She moved close to sit by him and gently reached for his hand. A small cut ran from the side of his little finger down towards his palm, nothing serious but with all the banging and commotion it had bled probably a little more than a normal hand injury. He suddenly felt so frail to her and it was heartbreaking.

“It’s ok, I’m here now. I’ll help you get that sorted.” She said softly, carefully and kindly taking his hand.

*

When River appeared 57 minutes later, he had not expected to see Seren and his grandfather enjoying tea and lemon cake in the kitchen. Since the day he'd introduced them he hadn’t once seen them in the same room.

“River, what are you doing here? Should you not be at work?” David asked. River’s eyebrows landed somewhere in his hairline and it took a look at Seren and the barely visible shake of her head for him to recover. He noted the bandage on David's hand.

“Had some time to spare, thought I'd drop in.”

“Never missing out on cake, I see. Seren brought this from the bakery.”

“We can have a walk there tomorrow, if you like? Get something nice for lunch?”

“Now that does sound an excellent idea.” David smiled.

“D'you hurt your hand?” River asked.

“Aye, caught it on a loose hook by the bathroom door. Gave Seren quite a scare when she came out of there.” He explained.

“I'll bet.” River took his time sitting down, using the time to appraise Seren and the scene before him. He could see she'd been crying. She offered a small nod, acknowledgement that she was OK, but the sigh indicated that there was definitely a conversation to be had.

“Why don't I take the tea to the sitting room? You can catch up while I finish cleaning up upstairs. Go ahead Mr C, make yourself comfortable.” She helped him up from the table, he was clearly exhausted by his exertion of the morning. She piled up a tray which River returned for once his grandfather was settled.

“Well?” He asked impatiently.

“Well River, your lovely Pops pulled a gun on me at the front door and ordered me out of the house. I managed to hide in the bathroom where I called you and you begged me not to call the police. I think he scared himself when he cut his hand. It brought him back from,” her hand waved in the air above her head, “wherever. I think he scared himself enough to realise that I might actually be here to help.”

“And the gun?” She passed by him in the narrow space between the table and the counter and opened the freezer, pulling out the handgun.

“Didn’t know where else to put it that neither of us would use it.” She shrugged. “Anything like that happens again, and I'm gone, got it?” River nodded, suddenly grateful that he hadn't come across a crime scene. Even more grateful that Seren hadn't walked out and left them.

Chapter 2