#i should just start writing 'you know which damn show it is' on these

[xyywrites]

Quotes from Authors on Writing

“You can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will.” — Stephen King

“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” — Louis L’Amour

“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very.’ Your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.” — Mark Twain

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” — Anton Chekhov

“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.” — Richard Bach

“You fail only if you stop writing.” — Ray Bradbury

“I hate writing, I love having written.” — Dorothy Parker

“No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” — Robert Frost

“The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself.” — Albert Camus

“Write what should not be forgotten.” — Isabel Allende

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” — Ernest Hemingway

“Find a subject you care about and which you in your heart feel others should care about. It is this genuine caring, not your games with language, which will be the most compelling and seductive element in your style.” — Kurt Vonnegut

“The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.” — Gustave Flaubert

“I’m not a very good writer, but I’m an excellent rewriter.” — James Michener

“Write what you know. Write what you want to know more about. Write what makes you feel. Write because you have to. Write because you want to. Just write.” — Cecelia Ahern

“You should write because you love the shape of stories and sentences and the creation of different words on a page. Writing comes from reading, and reading is the finest teacher of how to write.” — Annie Proulx

[ffsjustletmesleep]

Silent Bonds: Chapter Three

Chapter Two

Word Count: 3.1k

(I was really confused writing the smut for GN reader cause I don't know where to write like “sex” or “hole”..)

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of blood, implications of suicide, poorly written smut, fingering, sex, unprotected sex(y'all know better), creampie, Daryl calling the reader a whore. (I think that's all) 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

As soon as they had entered the CDC they were met with a man by the name of Dr. Edwin Jenner. He led everyone into the building and explained that he was the only one left out of all the others who had worked there. Jenner took each of us one by one for a blood test to make sure that none of us had gotten bitten, which you could understand. He wasn't supposed to let any of you inside but he had anyway, it was just precaution.

Later after Jenner had finished taking samples of everyone’s blood, he decided on sharing the food that was left in the building for dinner. Everyone sat around the table laughing and eating. Dale suggested that Carl should try some wine with dinner which Rick and Lori had let him do so, he was grossed out by the taste which made everyone laugh. “That’s my boy” she muttered with a smile before taking the glass away.

Daryl spoke up as he looked over at Glenn, smiling as he held the bottle of booze in his hand. “Keep drinkin’ little man. I wanna see how red yer face can get” he opened his mouth in a wide smile. You looked at Daryl as you smiled and drank from your glass of wine, giggling at his childish behavior, he looked down at you and smiled as he took another drink from the bottle, chuckling under his breath.

Rick noticed Jenner’s uncomfortable expression and tapped his glass to get everyone's attention before standing up from his seat. “It seems we haven’t thanked our host properly.” he smiled as he looked at Jenner. “Booyah!” Daryl shouted as he raised the bottle, shifting to stand behind you, and everyone began raising their glasses and cheering out as they thanked him. Jenner then awkwardly nodded back as a thanks.

Shane then brought up the cure and spoke about the rest of the doctors Jenner had said that most of them either left or had taken ‘other’ routes out. Which had ruined the mood in an instant. Glenn walked back to his seat and frowned as he looked at Shane. “Dude you are such a buzzkill, man..” he muttered before he sat down.

You put your glass down as the mood started to drop, Daryl scoffed and took another drink from the bottle before walking out of the room. After dinner, Jenner showed you the way to the rooms, and the mention of hot water got everyone settled in.

Daryl insisted on staying in your room with you, not wanting anything to happen to you after today. Though he brushed it off as “being too tired to go find his room” which you didn't mind. You set your bag down on the couch next to the bed and sighed softly as you picked out something comfortable to wear to bed.

“You know. Daryl. I think a shower might do you good, you reek..” you turned around to look at him, frowning playfully as you put your hands on your hips.

“I ain’t need no damn shower..” He grumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed, taking another drink from the bottle of booze. You sighed softly and shook your head at him before stepping over towards the bathroom and getting in the shower, taking your time to wash off the muck but not taking too long to waste the hot water.

Once you got out of the shower and stepped back into the bedroom, Daryl was lying sprawled out on the bed waiting for you to come back. You smiled to yourself as you walked over towards him, gently taking the booze from his hands.

“You getting tired?” you asked as you set the bottle down on the nightstand and sat down on the bed beside him. “No, was jus’ waitin’ for yer ass to be done.” He muttered as he narrowed his eyes at you, his lips turning down into a frown as he put his arms underneath his head.

You huffed softly and shook your head at his expression. “You’ve had too much to drink, huh?” you asked as you looked at him. He looked away from you and scoffed as he closed his eyes. “Dunno what yer talkin’ bout.” He muttered.

Tilting your head to the side and turning back to your clothes, you got dressed into your pajamas before climbing up onto the bed. He tensed as he felt your arm touching his, but slowly relaxed as he realized it was just you.

You let out a small hum and looked down at him as you sat next to him. Your hand moved to his hair as your fingers ran through the short strands of dirty blonde hair. Gently pulling his head into your lap. He let out a small grumble and looked up at you annoyed.

“Why you always touchin’ me??” He growled as his eyes narrowed up at you. You let out a soft laugh and held his head as you leaned down slightly, looking into his eyes.

“I don’t know..” you shrugged and smiled at him as your fingers rounded his face, from his cheeks to the small stubble on his chin, and down to his chest as your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders.  “Am I not allowed to?” you asked with a teasing smile.

His cheeks burned a little red as he felt your hands touching all over his face, his eyes analyzing your expression as your arms hugged his neck. “Ain’t sayin' that-” He muttered as his hands moved to grasp your wrists. His eyes darting away from yours.

You watched him as he looked away, his embarrassed yet annoyed expression making your heart flutter as your eyes landed on his lips as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Daryl..” you called softly as one of your hands came back up to cup his cheek.

His eyes immediately met yours at the sound of his name, his eyes widening slightly as your face had gotten closer. “Wha- What’re you doin'..?” he asked as his grip tightened on your wrists.

You leaned closer as your thumb brushed against his cheek, your heart racing in your chest as you saw his flustered expression. You gently pressed your lips against the mole on the side of his lips, listening to the sound of his breath hitching in his throat.

He froze as he felt your lips graze the side of his mouth, he could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he stared at you with shock. Your lips moved from his mole to his cheek, then to his nose, his forehead, and the other side of his face.

You pulled your head back slightly to see him, his face red and his eyes staring right at you as his lips parted slightly out of shock. You smiled at him and ran your fingers down to the side of his jaw before your lips finally landed on his own.

He felt like he was going to explode, he didn't know whether to be annoyed or angry, he wasn't used to this, especially not from them. Out of all the years they’ve known each other they’d never done something like this, yet it made him feel things he’s never felt.

He let out a soft breath and pulled your arms off him, his lips pressing up against yours as he sat up, bringing you around and in his arms before his lips returned to yours. He knew this was wrong, you guys were friends, but he couldn't think straight around you and it drove him insane.

You gasped softly as he shot up, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer as his lips enveloped yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. It must have been the alcohol making him so needy, but he couldn't tell, nor did he care. His lips moved against yours as one of his hands moved down to your hip, grasping it tightly as his other held your lower back.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whined softly at his touch, his tongue massaging yours as he leaned forward, forcing your head back and kissing you deeper as he grasped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it somewhere in the room.

His lips moved to your cheek, your jaw, then your neck as his stubble tickled your skin, his breath hot and heavy as the smell of booze still lingered on his breath, groaning softly at the taste of your skin. You let out a small moan as his hand slid up your side, and grasped at your flesh.

His tongue licked down your neck and down your chest, before it circled one of your hardened nipples, gently sucking on it as he pulled you closer, his other hand reaching down to grasp your ass tightly. Your hands shot up to grasp his hair as he nipped the bud gently, before giving his attention to the other one, doing the same thing.

You cried out softly as his teeth nipped it slightly harder than the other, your face reddened more as he slowly lowered you down onto the bed, his lips kissed down your stomach before his hands grasped the hem of your shorts, pulling them down your legs along with your underwear, tossing them with the rest of your clothes.

You looked up at him as he pulled away from you, his eyes taking over your body as he breathed heavily, feeling like prey in the hands of a predator in the moment. His eyes met yours as his pupils were blown, his head leaning down as his lips gently pressed against yours, before he moved down between your legs, his hands pushing your thighs apart as he settled in between them.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, sucking marks onto it as he bit down on the bruises, groaning once more as his hands kneaded your soft flesh. His lips kissed up your thighs until he was met with your heat, his breath hot against your skin as his tongue licked a wet stripe up against your heat, letting out a small moan at the taste.

He spat in his hand as his finger brushed up against your entrance, letting out a small hum as he kissed your hip, before gently pushing his finger inside of you, groaning as your tight walls squeezed his finger. You let out a small moan as his finger entered you, your hands shooting down to his hair as you grasped it gently.

His finger pulled back out of you before pushing back in slowly, his teeth nipping your hip gently as his eyes watched you squirm and moan. His cock hardened in his pants at the sight. His finger slowly picked up its pace as he slowly added a second, his thick fingers stretching your tight hole as he pressed his forehead against your stomach, panting softly to himself as he pressed his hips against the bed.

“Fuck- yer so tight around my fingers, Sunshine..” he whispered as he curled his fingers inside of you, brushing against your sensitive spot as he listened to you cry out and tug on his hair. You were driving him insane, he was shaking in your grasp as your sounds filled his ears, your walls clenching around his fingers as he stretched you out, scissoring them and curling them just to hear you get louder.

He stopped his movements as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth as he licked and sucked them clean, moaning at the taste of you. He sat up in between your thighs as he looked down at you, your lust-filled eyes and flushed and breathless expression going to his cock.

His hands fiddled with his belt as he pulled it off, tossing it off the bed and unbuttoning his pants as he pushed them down to his thighs, along with his boxers. His cock slapping up against his stomach as he hissed softly. You looked up at him and panted softly as your eyes wandered down to his cock, swallowing thickly as you whimpered at the size. “Shit..” you breathed.

His eyes locked onto yours as he heard you curse, he smirked and fisted his cock, stroking it as his spit coated his length, he moved closer to you as he leaned down, kissing your neck and nipping gently before his lips pressed against yours, capturing them in a sweet kiss as he stroked himself, moaning softly into your mouth before he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

You grasped the blankets gently as you turned your head to look at him from over your shoulder, blushing as he loomed over you, his cock sliding against your ass as his eyes were locked on you, gently pushing lowering the tip down to your aching hole, spreading his precum around it as he bucked his hips gently, biting back a groan.

He looked up at you through his lashes as he saw the desperate look on your face, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Yer so needy, aren't ya..?” he asked in a low voice as he nipped your ear gently, pressing his hips up against yours.

You blushed heavily and whined softly as his cock pressed against you, you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes as you nodded, whimpering softly. “Need you, Daryl..so bad..” you whispered, feeling his grip on your hips tighten, his hips bucking against yours as a growl rumbled in his throat.

“Ya need me, Sunshine..? Huh..?” he asked tauntingly as his lips trailed down your shoulders, nipping the skin as his tongue traced the marks he left. “Ya’ want my cock that bad..?” he pulled your hips back against his as he glanced down at your entrance. “I'll give it to ya’..don’t worry..” he whispered against the skin of your back.

His hands shook slightly from his buzz against the skin of your hips as he bit down on his bottom lip, pressing the tip of his cock against you as he slowly pushed inside of you, his eyes closing as he felt your tight walls hugging his cock, growling softly as he bit down on your shoulder.

You moaned out as your grasp tightened on the sheets of the bed, pressing your face into the pillow as you felt him stretching you out from the inside. “Oh- Fuck-!” you cried as he bottomed out inside you, moaning against your skin.

His fingers dug into the flesh of your waist as he pulled you back against him, he started to move, pulling all the way out before pushing back in, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he couldn't help but whimper at the feeling. He picked up the pace as he pulled your hips back with every thrust, panting and groaning against your neck.

You moaned out loudly as he started to move, feeling his cock hitting the deepest parts that even your fingers couldn't reach, his thick shaft rubbing deliciously against your walls. “Daryl..!” you moaned out as you cried against the pillow, your body moving up and down against the bed as he thrust into you over and over.

His thrusts grew harder and deeper as he pounded into you from behind, practically pistoning you into the bed as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Ya’ feel so good around me- fuck I can’t get enough..ya’.” he panted. “Like that? Huh, Sunshine? Ya like my cock so deep inside ya??” he growled as he picked up the pace, chasing after his release and sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

You cried out into the pillow as your back arched, your face pressing further into the fabric as your moans muffled, the sound of skin slapping, panting, and moaning filling the room as he slammed into you over and over. You could feel your orgasm slowly approaching.

He groaned against your skin as he thrust into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot as he heard you cry out his name. He angled his hips and rammed into it over and over. “Yer practically made for me- squeezing me like this..fucking hell- dirty whore..” he muttered darkly into your ear. “Ya close..? Ya gonna cum for me? Cum all because of this cock filling ya so good?” he chuckled as it quickly turned into a moan, his orgasm approaching quickly.

Your moans and cries grew louder as he pistoned you into the bed, his hot breath against your neck as his hands would leave bruises on your hips by morning, you gasped out as your orgasm grew closer, your breathing getting quicker as your legs shook. “Fuck! I’m so close!” you sobbed.

He growled at your words and picked up the pace his hips grinding against yours as he pressed his cock against your sweet spot repeatedly. “That's it- cum for me, Sunshine, come on!” he commanded as his thrusts grew sloppy, his hips stuttering as his orgasm approached quickly.

Your breath hitched as you felt your orgasm washing over you, a loud cry leaving your lips as you felt yourself cum, stuffing your face in the pillow as he slammed into you a few more times, panting heavily against your ear as he came, his warm seed spilling deep inside you as he rode out both of your highs and collapsed on top of you.

The next few moments were quiet, the only sound was you both catching your breath. His arms hugged around you tightly as he pressed his face against your back. “Fuck..” he muttered before he slowly pulled out of you, laying next to you and pulling you in him.

He looked down at you as your eyes closed, your face flushed with redness and sweat, your hair sticking all over the place as he brushed it away. “I didn't hurt ya, did I..?” he asked softly as he rubbed your lower back.

You looked up at him after a minute of catching your breath, seeing his soft blue eyes return, his face all flushed, and his lips red as he panted. “No..of course not. I’m alright..” you whispered softly as you leaned up to kiss him. He leaned into you as he reciprocated the kiss, cupping your face gently and humming against your lips.

He pulled away slightly as he looked at you. “Good..” he muttered, his rough thumb grazing your cheek as he watched you. The two of you lay there together as you both eventually fell into a deep sleep in each other's arms, letting the exhaustion take over your bodies from the intense moment you two just shared

Thank you for reading Silent Bonds: Chapter Three I hope you enjoyed it :) this is my second time writing smut so I hope its not too bad, I tried to keep the gender neutral theme to be inclusive so if I made any mistakes pls lmk <3

Taglist: @thevegandarkelf @dixons-sunshine @missriddle03 @imadisneyprincessiswear @raddydaddydude @lunajay33 @trainboom @l0kilaufeys0n7 @hello-emma @filthanddust @moonbaby6 (lmk if you wanna be added to the Taglist <3)

[sleepoutro]

brisbane2

[soleilapproves]

Wearing a backless dress in front of Nanami for the first time.

Note: early relationship feels. F!reader, AFAB reader. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you guys. A smidge of SUGGESTIVENESS.

Masterlist

Nanami was a punctual man. He hated tardiness especially when it came to himself. Which is why he was getting agitated when you were taking too long to get ready.

“Honey, are you done?” Nanami impatiently called out from your living room.

You were going to meet his high school friend group for the first time today and you all planned to meet at a luxurious bar- which meant you wanted to make a good first impression.

“Yeah, let me just get my coat and we’re good to go.” You said as you left your room to get to the coat stand in the living room. He thanked his lucky stars at that moment. He knew it took you a long time to get ready but he was starting to think that he should give you an earlier time so you could get ready faster from here on out.

But time stood still for him when his eyes landed on you.

Nanami immediately got up from his seat when he saw you. He involuntarily put his hand on his chest. Almost like he was trying to calm himself down.

His tawny eyes raked down your figure. It was a simple dress- full sleeved with a square neckline and a hem that reached right above your knee. The show stopper was your bare back.

Sure, Nanami had seen you naked a few times since the beginning of your relationship, but he hadn’t seen you dress up so beautifully unless it was for a date at an expensive restaurant (which seldom happened for you both enjoyed exploring hole in the wall places).

Friends be damned. His girlfriend looked like dessert served on a gold platter.

“You…” he rasped out. He couldn’t even find the words to describe the sight in front of him.

He slowly walked towards you (with heart eyes) and removed your jacket from your grasp. “Everything alright?” Your eyes searched his but he was too busy staring at your neckline.

“Yeah, just… spin for me, darling. I want to take this all in before we leave.” You giggled at his request and did as he asked.

“Like what you see?”

“Very much.”

“You can have me whenever, babe. We’re gonna come back to my place after meeting everyone anyway.” Nanami pulled you to him with a small tug to your wrist, ignoring your suggestion.

“Yes, but knowing that we’ll be late because of how beautiful you look makes me feel excited.” His said as he stroked his fingers up and down your back. He leaned in to get a kiss but you pulled away with a whine. “I just did my makeup.”

“Just one little kiss. I promise I won’t ruin it.” You groaned at him but leaned in, planning to leave a small peck on his eager lips.

But your plan was foiled because you were met with an intoxicating kiss. His mouth was ready to devour you as his hands situated themselves behind your head.

“Kento-“ you tried to remind him of his promise while you tried to pull away but he just used his grip on your head to push you back into his arms.

“Little more,” he mumbled into your mouth. You let out of a mewl of annoyance and he squeezed your ass to comfort you.

His tongue lapped up whatever was left of your lipstick as he continued to attack your lips. His hands pulled you impossibly close that you could feel his need for you through his pants.

After what felt like ages, you both pulled away. “Great, we’re going to be late now,” you said as you stomped away to your room to apply more lipstick.

“Come back!” he yelled, hot on your heels. “We can afford to be a few minutes late,” he said as he entered your room and closed the door.

You had managed to shake the principles of the ever punctual Nanami Kento.

-

I was thinking about that one scene from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days while writing this. You know, when Benjamin sees Andy in that yellow dress?

[sleep-0-deprived]

Hello Dimitri!

I really love your works - especially your yandere oc's and jjk content!- I was wondering if I can put in a request for a poly yandere of Geto and Gojo with a bottom male reader? I want to know how this relationship works when they were in their teens and now that their adults (Geto still choose to be a cult leader, also he does not die. My poor heart cannot handle the heartbreak of Geto dying and leaving Gojo and reader behind ). You can make it sfw or nsfw which either one you like! :)

Ps. Sorry for the long request, it is my first time requesting (0///0)

Two psychos is better than one right?~! (Yandere Geto suguru x male reader x yandere Satoru Gojo) ❀˖°

WC:. 5.7k

Tags: fluff-smut, threesome, spit roasting, poly satosugu, trio friendship, friends to enemies to lovers blowjobs, p in a sex, male on male oral, handjobs, ass eating, anal creampies, Yandere themes, dark content x male reader, dub con, non con, manipulation, drugging, Gojo just gaslighting reader

About: satoru and suguru become friends with male reader ending up in an obsession leading to Geto leaving, even after you split ways with him, he stays watching you from afar despite their separate paths they stay holding their obsession leading to trapping you.

A/N: this is a bit of a longer fic compared to others I’ve I’ve wrote, I put all my effort into this one! After some long writers block I’ve made it back around into writing again <33

Before the Riko incident you became a transfer at jujutsu high, you weren’t really strong nor weak, you were the prime balance of an average guy who just wanted to be in the middle- as long as you helped others then that was fine by you, being well known seemed overrated anyway.

You never thought you’d get between the infamous duo, they were tight knit after all, they were all any jujustu student aspired to be and after all you were just a boy looking to make it through the academy without any complications

If you would’ve known the outcome of transferring to this school you would’ve stayed far away, how did you even enter their lives? You were put on their team as a balance, you were put there to be guided and who was better to guid you than you once upper class men Satoru?

You were put on their missions, it started simple, the three of you going against curses together but you noticed very quickly that your friendship meant more to them than what met the eye. The friendship you thought of as normal or even just knowing them out of same interests turned dark far to fast.

What stool out at you the most was during a mission when you were saving a civilian from a low level curse, after a hour the fight was over and you were clean from any wounds, the man just ran up to you muffling his words between tears grabbing your hands.

“thank you—I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t show up!”

The man hugged you and the next thing you knew you tilted your head and suguru was already pulling him off of you pushing the man away harshly throwing him to a wall of a near by store.

“What do you think you’re doing suguru?!”

You quickly ran forward to him pulling him away from the civilian leaving the man running off terrified, your hands reaching up to his uniform shaking him back and forth while yelling at him. All Geto seems to do is stare blankly like he didn’t care what you did in the slightest.

“He touched you [name], nobody should get up close and personal, unless it’s me or Satoru”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You two aren’t my damn keepers, we are friends Suguru- just friends!”

You look at him offended with your lips pressing in a thin line shoving him back and letting him go, walking off pushing past a confused Gojo leaving him tilting his head looking back at Geto with a ‘what did you do?’ Face.

The next few days to pass you avoided Geto like the plague, only being around Gojo when he wasn’t near Suguru.

Sitting in a café during the weekend with Gojo lifting your drink, the feeling was off and you weren’t the biggest fan of how Gojo kept staring over at you but your dad was pushing you to be more like other boys your age, that’s how you ended up calling Gojo on the water day morning after the incident with Geto.

“You don’t have to avoid him Y’know [name]?”

Gojo breaks the silent looking at you with his eyes rolled forwards under his glasses watching your every move when you take a bite of whatever pastries you made him buy you.

“He’s just so damn possesive Toru- it’s like he thinks I’m his property..it’s just weird”

Gojo just gives a shrug, of course he would. Always sticking up and vouching for Geto like he was some sort of fan boy. What did you really expect? Gojo knew Geto before you, they had an uncanny close relationship and knowing all you know now looking back on it that’s the reason Suguru didn’t mind sharing you with Satoru.

“I think you’re overreacting, he was probably just worried about you, I’m sure he did in in good intentions”

“Yeah, whatever you say Toru”

You shove down a few more bites while Gojo takes a sip of his tea, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched but you always feel that way. Gojo kept trying to bring the topic back to Geto, trying to persuade you two to make up and apologize but you were just creeped out with his actions.

“Come on? He’s our friend [name] you don’t wanna be the one to put a wedge in our trio right?”

Gojo did his best to speak sweetly to you. Trying to convince you, and if that didn’t work then he’d just whine and make you feel bad til you felt like you just had to forgive Suguru. You didn’t wanna be the reason your friend ship fell apart with them right?…

The next day was a Sunday and Gojo had practically done everything but force you to meet up with Geto. Gojo had used the fact he and Geto were on a mission looking after a girl as the perfect opportunity to finally get you three together.

You hear your phone ringing whilst you lay sprawled out in bed, it’s a Sunday morning after all, it’s the last day of your week to sleep in until next weekend.

“Hello Toru..why’re you calling me so early?..”

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come and hangout at the beach today? Me and Geto are gonna be watching after this girl for our mission and I really-really want you there [nicknaamee]”

You just let out a small sigh and groggily open your eyes up begrudgingly mumbling back out to Satoru when you hear his whiny voice on the other end of the phone pleading and going high pitch on the nickname he gave you”

“Fine I’ll come but don’t let him act creepy Toru”

After that day at the beach things fell right back in line, you and Suguru had made up, and Gojo was happy, after all his best friends had made up.

Then it went and happened, some assassin had killed who they were protecting- or so Satoru told you. You weren’t there the day it had happened, you were on another mission with your upperclassman Nanami. Suguru wasn’t the same after that point, he hardly talked to you or Gojo- he would just silently space out staring at you.

Then summer hit and when he had came back he wasn’t the same at all, he was cold and distant and snapped at you over the slightest things. If you spent more time with Satoru than him then he’d give you the cold shoulder until you apologized despite your lack of knowing what you did wrong.

“I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this Suguru?”

You walked along side Gojo after school one day following after Geto, your eyes were wide and your lips pressed firm.

“Hey! Where are you goin?!”

Gojo ran faster than you walking forward more when Suguru stops and turns facing Gojo, their argument starts leaving you chiming in every few seconds standing next to Satoru, by the end of their fight Suguru just turns forward to walk away.

“Suguru wait! What the hell are you doing?”

You stand in utter disbelief for what was happening right in front of you— this couldn’t be happening? Your friendship was splitting up right before you and suguru, the boy that was eerily close around you was leaving you now.

You didn’t think you were going to be that affected over the loss but it left you confused on how you felt.

The days following that incident the team had drifted apart but you and Gojo had a newfound closeness but you couldn’t shake the feeling of always being watched, it felt like all eyes were on you even when you were walking through your dorm, that must just be the paranoia that comes with being a jujustu sorcerer right?

By the time you had graduated from Jujustu high, Gojo was already number one, you were happy for him of course as any friend would be. Eventually by the ripe age of twenty you take up a teaching job at jujustu high after a long time of Satoru pestering you to take the job with him.

“If I take the job will you just shut up Toru?”

“Of course I will! I promise [nickname]”

You eventually get tasked over the same team as Gojo, which you found strange. Not that Gojo didn’t totally pull strings to make them place you two together. The teams you were mentoring were names Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi, the boy that Gojo had been watching after ever since he fought with his father- you think he’s the son of that assassin that killed Riko.

The Jujustu world became hectic, not that it was new but it became crazier than usual especially after finding out that Yuji boy had ate one of the king of curses fingers— how was he even alive after that?

Over the years of being a Jujustu sorcerer you had seen and dealt with many things and you couldn’t deny you never thought you’d see Suguru again, not after what he did to his parents- you had just assumed he was gone for good. For some odd reason Gojo never seemed too concerned it felt as though he knew something you never did.

You remember earlier in the day hearing Satoru asking you to take the subway with him later after classes had ended, something about this new place he wanted to take you too and knowing Gojo and his Expensive tastes you had just expected another luxury restaurant so imagine the confusion on your face when you see a old Japanese style parlor.

You walk right in behind Gojo, following confused seeing the dark colored interior and dim lights, non sorcerers walking out of the place wearing matching robes.

“What is this place Toru?”

“It’s just a parlor ran by an old friend”

The way he hummed those words with a smirk made you feel uneasy, this place felt cultic, the purple walls and candles lit around the halls leading towards a pair of Japanese styled double doors, Satoru opens them ushering you inside. Your senses feel different in this room, it smells sweet and all you can do is feel fuzzy inside, were you being laced?

When you come to again you open your eyes half way seeing two figures hovering above you. Softness is all you can seem to feel right now, you’re laying on something soft, maybe a pillow? It’s fluffy and all you wanna do is close your eyes and succumb again, your body is weak and you only muster up enough strength to open your eyes when you feel a hand undoing your pants.

Your eyes roll around a little in their sockets before focusing in on the two figures, they look like yin and yang- one has white hair, it’s Gojo…is that—

“Suguru?”

His name sounds pathetic when you slur your words looking up at him letting out a little whine seeing his robes, where has he been and why was he dressed like a messiah. What was happening? All those thoughts are postponed when you feel hands pulling your cock out of your boxers.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you [name], god you know how hard it is to not be able to touch you? To not hear my name from your mouth? It’s torture sweetheart”

“Awe suguru! You told me the cameras I put in his apartment were close enough?”

Satoru and Geto conversation while kneeling before your body, one of them on either side of you with Suguru’s hand on your cock playing with the soft flesh and teasing it. Your body felt too many things to let your mind properly think.

“You’re alive?”

Those words come out shakily with your body shuddering feeling the warm palm of his hand under the base of your cock pulling a few strokes while Satoru leans down more sliding your shirt up your body, lifting your arms up and discarding it while you lay on your back in the parlor. Your eyes seeing candles lit around the room next to a picture of Geto— this was a cult.

“Of course I’m alive? Why wouldn’t i be [name]?…you know me and Satoru will never leave you”

“Look at him Suguru, he’s so loopy, I told you that gas was too strong~”

Your cock pulses in his hand with your nipples erect from the cool air, your body heating up and your cock starting to leak precum.

“What’re you two doing?”

The words fall weakly while you lay on the pillows with your eyes circling in on Geto the whole time he touches your cock, your eyes rolling over to Gojo when he coos words to you talking you through it while your hands tremble pulling at the pillows.

“What we’ve wanted to do since day one [name]”

Suguru hums, leaning in more stroking your cock a little faster and moving his way between your thighs before craning his neck backwards whispering out something to Gojo. Gojo groans and pouts, taking his hands off your body and getting up walking off and out of the room leaving you and Suguru alone.

When Gojo comes back he’s holding a bottle of strawberry flavored Lube, Geto let’s go of your now hard cock and turns you over on your stomach, Gojo tossing Suguru the lube while he squirts the lube all up and down your crack, sitting the lube aside and squishing your cheeks together over and over making the lube smear around in between your cheeks.

“All I can think about is how you’ll taste, I hope Satoru don’t get mad I eat you up first”

Geto leans down kissing your arch and holding your hips sliding them down to your ass cheeks and slowly pulling them apart while grinning up at Gojo, watching the white haired man undoing his slacks and pulling out his cock, Gojo slaps his tip to your lips still soft.

“Toru please-“

“C’mon, suck it hard f’me?”

Before you can respond Geto has his faced buried between your cheeks eating you out like your his last meal, his tongue sliding up and down your crack and back down to your rim.

When your lips part to gasp, Gojo takes that as his chance to shove his cock down your throat making your lips wrap around him gagging and tearing up laying on your stomach with Satoru’s hand reaching down to grab a handful of your locks making you tilt your head back and look up at him.

“How’s it taste [name]?”

You can’t seem to muster a word, feeling Geto’s tongue going flat against your rim and pressing its way inside you while he reaches one hand under you to grab back ahold of your cock, Suguru starts stroking you in time with his tongue while aiming your cock down towards the pillows in jerking motions like he was milking you.

Gojo and Geto share gleaming looks, they were on cloud nine finally getting the intimacy from you they had longed after for years. Gojo thrusts his hips forward slowly making your cheeks bulge with every motion, his cock now fully hardened in your mouth hitting the back of your throat making vibrations around his base when you wail out.

“Poor baby is all delirious isn’t he Satoru?”

Geto smile against your flesh, pressing sloppy wet kisses to your rim rolling his own eyes back at the taste of strawberry and you on his tongue leaving a satisfaction in his stomach with his cock hard under his robes being pressed to his hip.

Gojo keeps stroking your hair before starting to lift your head by your hair and bob your mouth up and down on his cock making you deep throat him to the point your face was buried in his white pubes.

“Sugu—tworu ple~”

Your words come out choppy around his cock. You speak with your mouth full feeling your throat hurting and the hot tears in your eyes streaming down your cheeks being used by the two men unable to put up a fight due to the drugs in your system keeping you weak between the men.

The feeling of Geto’s tongue swirling around your insides makes your head go fuzzy again, you just wanna close your eyes but you can’t because yours are locked on Gojo’s bright blue ones, have they always been as blue as they are now? The look of pleasure on his faces makes knots build in your stomach knowing you’re the cause for his half closed eyes.

“Oh you’re so close aren’t you? Don’t even gotta answer I can tell [name]”

Geto can tell by the way your rim greedily puckers around his tongue and the amounts of precum oozing from your tip that you’re on the verge of your orgasm. His hand keeps working you between your thighs leaving your legs trembling laying on your stomach when a wave of heat floods your whole body making you moan around Gojo’s cock.

Your tip starts to swell angrily under Geto’s thumb, when his tongue laps your prostate it pushes you past your breaking point making you lose it, cumming all over the pillows, staining the purple fabrics with an off white stain making Gojo look down at you with his signature smirk.

“Mhmf— he’s a fuckin squirter Satoru”

“Suguru you should just feel how he’s gagging on me right now-“

They talk about you like you aren’t there, using you for their own pleasures you feel Geto pulling his face from your cheeks with one last lick pulling his tongue out of you leaving your s/c ass all sticky from a mix of spit and lube.

Geto starts lifting up his robes pulling them up over his head throwing them to the side with a smile, wearing black boxer briefs with a prominent bulge inside them with a dark patch of black hair trailing down his abdomen giving Satoru little to the imagination.

Suguru slides his fingers under his boxer waist band pulling them down his thighs allowing his cock to spring forward and press to his stomach.

“I would ask if you’re ready [name] but you probably shouldn’t speak with your mouth full~”

His voice is cold and mocking not giving a damn about Satoru face fucking you like a fleshlight. Suguru pulls your slick cheeks apart again thrusting his cock up and down your crack getting himself lubed up with the mixed substances.

Gojo reached his thumb down tracing over your full cheeks, watching how your throat bulges more and more the deeper he pushes himself inside your mouth fucking your eyes to reverse watching how they looked away from him and into the back of your head with a teary face that could arouse any man.

“I need-air tworu~”

Your drool running down your chin with your cock half limp between your thighs from how Geto jerked you off leaving you already feeling empty. Suguru reaches his hands up and grips your hips tightly nudging his cockhead against your rim watching while it stretches wide in a sad attempt to fit him, his cock feels like it’s tearing you in half.

“Fuck!~ hurts Suguru—“

You gasp when Satoru pulls his cock from your mouth leaving you fishing the purple pillows clenching up around Geto while he lazily pushes in, he doesn’t pay mind to it hurting you, he rubs small circles on your hips before bottoming himself all the way inside you with your rim leaving a little blood in with the lube from being stretched so much you tore.

“Shh, now you know you can take it can’t you [nickname]”

Gojo drops your head letting it fall forward with your teary face in the purple pillows, your lips all swollen and your throat feeling like razors doing nothing but keeping you from screaming anymore. Your voice is weak and all you can do is hold the pillows and let out little squeals around Suguru.

“Suguru- pleasee—“

You get shut up again by Satoru’s cock, he doesn’t tap his tip to your lips like last time, he forced his whole cock back down your drool filled throat making a slobbery mess running down your face while you reach one hand back trying to push Suguru’s hands off your hips.

“Don’t even try it [name] you know better, god you’re still as feisty as the last time I seen you”

Suguru reached one hand forward holding both your wrists tightly leaving promising red marks while he slowly thrusts his hips forward pushing your face more into Satoru’s groin when Suguru starts to fuck you from behind holding you and binding you with his hands keeping you all defenseless but at this point with the way his cock is sliding against your inner walls you can’t even properly think.

“There you go [nickname] you’re so good at this aren’t you? I think he was made for two cocks Suguru”

Gojo’s blindfold hanging around his neck with his large hand around the back of your head holding it in place while he rocks his hips forward making his veins start prodding against the roof of your mouth more showing you he was close.

“Hmfh!~ Toruu”

You whine wanting to reach your hand down and start touching your cock, you needed to come so bad but you couldn’t do anything but depend on them to make sure you got off. Suguru’s cock pressed against your prostate milking your insides with his base stretching your channel to fit his cock like he was trying to mold you.

“Does our boy wanna come that bad?”

Geto asks you with a fake confused tone fucking you a little harder holding your hands behind your back with one hand using the other to reach down and lift your left thigh up forcing his cock inside you at a deeper angle making you feel every vein and curve to his cock.

“Mh hmm-!”

You’re so far gone you can’t bother to care about every messed up thing these men are doing to you, all your mind can process is ‘needa come’ your back arches and you start trying to bob your head under Satoru’s hand trying to earn good graces from him when you look up at him with your wide eyes batting your lashes back and forth like a doll.

“Oh what’s this? I think he’s starting to be a good boy Satoru, you think we should let him come?”

Suguru asks Satoru with a smug smile holding your thigh tight fucking your insides raw with your rim all puffy and wrapped around his cock split open wide now accepting him with ease with the room in the parlor filling up with lewd squelches from the mix of lube and his spit making wet sounds when his hips hit your ass cheeks.

Plap-plap-plap, the sounds silently echo throughout the room while you just stare up at Gojo with a full mouth before feeling his load shoot down your throat spilling all over the back of your throat and running down the roof of your mouth leaving the pungent taste on your lips.

“I think we should let him come Suguru- he’s been actin nice hasn’t he?”

“I think you’re right Toru~ good boys deserve rewards after all”

Geto let’s your arms go reaching back down between your thighs starting to jerk your cock like he did before, fucking you rougher with his chubby cock head pulsing and twitching on your prostate putting a strong pressure in your stomach threatening to break over at any moment.

Satoru’s cock slips out of your mouth letting you finally breath and gasp for air while Gojo stares down at your face stroking his soft cock hard again and aiming it at your fucked out face watching you get pounded from behind by Geto.

“Close- just a little more- suguru pleasee~!”

You start letting out whiny moans and sounds you never new your voice could make when his thumb runs right across your slit, staring up at Gojo the whole time with your teary face ruined and covered in tears and drool with your hair messy from Gojo’s pulling. Geto keeps going bucking his hips forward harshly rutting himself into you going deep as he can pressing his balls to your backside feeling your rim spasming ready to orgasm around him.

When Suguru flicks his wrist holding the base of your cock it sends you over the edge arching your back under him clenching around his cock and holding onto the purple fabric beneath you, orgasming so hard your ears start ringing making everything in the room feel surreal when you come in Geto’s hand.

“There he goes Suguru- oh that’s such a beautiful face you’re making [nickname]”

Your come floods over Suguru’s thumb and spilling onto the pillows under you making you wail and cry at the nearly dry orgasm being pulled from your cock having you stiffening up under the two men with your nose scrunched in a over stimulated pleasure.

“I’m getting close [name], gonna flood these insides”

When Gojo hears those words he starts stroking his cock faster at your face watching his two best fiends fucking eachother with you laying all out of it and fuzzy from the drugs having you limp under Geto when he lets your thigh down to mount you more fucking your motionless body making you feel how his cock nudged you on its own before his flood gates break.

“O-oh hng~ suguru-“

The words come out high pitched and louder than the last when his come floods your anal cavity, the warmth surrounds your prostate in a hot sensation leaving you feeling all bloated and full from his seed, your hole instinctively starts to clench and unclench around him milking the rest of his load out of him while Gojo lets out a groan watching the whole scene play out before him.

“Here it comes [nickname]”

Those words were the only warning that Gojo gave you before his orgasm shoots across your face all over your nose and lips running down your chin, mixing in with your spit and tears leaving you completely ruined from the two men, with two loads in your tummy and another on your face leaving you spent.

“I can’t take no more Toru~ Suguru I can’t-“

“But you gotta [nickname] ! I haven’t even got to feel your hole yet~”

Gojo lets out a whine while Geto lets go of your cock and pulls out of your ass, using his thumb to push any come that oozes from your hole back inside you while he rotates with Gojo letting Satoru get right behind you swapping places, god! At this rate it was gonna be a real long night.

“Toru- I can’t take it”

You droop your head down feeling his hands flipping you over back into your back on the pillows feeling your come stained pillow fabric pressed to your skin making you cringe, Satoru lifts up one of your legs placing it up on his shoulder nudging your sore rim with his cock while Suguru adjusts himself now facing at your head pressing his cock against your come stained lips.

“Don’t lie, we know you can take it [nickname], you were made to take it baby”

“He’s right baby, we know you can handle it”

They don’t take your weak response as an answer, Gojo slowly pushes his cock into your already stretched hole, sliding in easily from Geto’s come and lube. Your chest aiming up at the air arching splayed on your back with your cock red and soft unable to harden from being milked to many times by the men.

Suguru pushes his cock pash your lips delving it into your wet cavern. Your throat bulges again from your now full mouth, your whole body aches and hurts but all you can do is lay still and take it. Gojo gives you no time to rest before he lifts your other leg up in the air holding you in a mating press while jackhammering into you.

“Fuck Suguru, you’re right his hole feels so fucking good”

Geto hums in response shuddering a little when your canines graze over a sensitive vein on the underside of his cock making him reach his hand down choking your throat a little bit as a warning making your fission blur from the lack of oxygen and the way Gojo was fucking you, reaching more spots than Suguru if that was even possible.

“Ah- careful with your teeth baby, don’t chew on it. Suck it”

Your thighs start trembling pressed to your chest with Gojo dipping his face down and burying his face into your pecks like a madman, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. His hips roll forwards lifting and reaching down to pull your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with your moans being gagged by Suguru’s cock.

“T’muush~ too stuffed Suguru~”

You roll your eyes back into your head looking up at Geto above you with your nose pressed to his balls from the angle he was fucking your mouth at leaving Satoru’s cum all smeared across your face like a sticky mess. Your cock half limp and tender against your inner thigh while it rests on your stomach leaking a little puddle.

“You sucked Satoru off fine, I think you can handle me too [name], now don’t start acting defiant again on us”

The way Geto spoke to you made you whine sadly unable to fight either of them, the drug still in your system and the way they were trying to consume your body whole left you mute sucking on his cock while Gojo pressed his chest up against yours making your toes curl up when he thrusts forward and nails your sweet spot head on.

“Don’t be so mean to him Suguru, he’s just about used up S’ all”

Satoru coos out to Suguru while he makes the pillows dip under the shared weight of him on top of you, Geto’s come swirling around your insides and trickling down your thighs around the base of Gojo’s cock while Gojo bites down on your nipple again only pulling his mouth off of your flesh to speak.

“I’m getting close [name], do’ you want it down your throat or face?”

Geto asks looking down at you feeling his balls drawing up against your cheek signaling he was close to his peak. Gojo on the other hand didn’t care about Suguru’s orgasm, he was too busy trying to chase his own inside your stomach. Your rim starts burning and stinging from being used and gaping around a cock for so long leaving you in painful pleasure.

“On m’ face~”

You whimper out quietly just not wanting to have to taste another load or feel more come inside your stomach. Reaching one hand down whining when you start to touch your cock, it felt like touching a stiff rod, your hand slowly moved up and down it crying to have to pull another orgasm but you needed to come so bad.

“You can’t do that [nickname] you gotta come from me or Suguru, so no touchin yourself”

Before you can respond or complain Satoru has his free hand slipping off your hip and down onto your cock, quickly swatting your hand away from it. His strokes aren’t gentle like yours were, his are fast and unorganized like his thrusts are. Gojo takes his mouth off your nipple and shoves his face in your neck while Suguru keeps fucking your mouth, his thrusts slow down pulling out of your mouth with his cock jumping on its own.

“There we go [name] see what you do to us?”

Your ass feels sore and red from hips slapping against them over and over but before you can complain a hot load shoots all over your face spilling into your eyelashes and into your mouth making you taste his come, he tasted sweeter than Gojo, his semen more thick and less opaque than Satoru’s.

“I’m getting close Sa-Toruu~”

Your voice cracks from a sore face fucked throat, your lips are all sticky and cracked in the corners from opening your mouth too wide, your lips part and ho agape making an ‘O’ shape when Gojo bites at the crook of your neck licking over the red marks he’s leaving on your S/c skin.

Your abdomen starts feeling hotter and more tense making you sweat underneath Satoru when his cock teases your insides making your legs feel like jello up in the air with your knees bent over his shoulders. By the way Gojo was tensing up and the muscles of his shoulders stiffened beneath your finger nails you could tell he was about to come.

“Me too- you’re just milking it out of me [nickname]”

His hand works harder and faster against your cock making you groan starting to orgasm shaking and crying with hardly any semen able to spill from you. Your tip starts leaking barely any pre come, you begin orgasming dry making Geto smile above you happy to know they had milked your body dry, Suguru reaches his hand down stroking your cheek while Gojo plows you between your thighs making the room spin through your eyes.

Soon the feeling of warmth in your gut hits you again letting you know Satoru had just found his release inside you, his semen seeping out of you overflowing your hole leaving the thin strings of his come running down your thighs and staining the pillows beneath the two of you.

“Toruu.. I’m soo sore-“

You whisper out under him reaching one hand up to his neck and grabbing his hair with your other hand still on his shoulder. Rolling your eyes forwards looking up at Suguru with your insides flooded and your face ruined- god you can’t handle these two insane men- They’re something else!

[traveler-at-heart]

Miss Communication

Summary: Natasha is avoiding the feelings talk so you use the only thing that seems to be working: jealousy.

A/N: This request and entire plot is from @happychopshoppenguin so all credit really goes to them. I just put into a few more words.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Stealthy, precise, lethal.

Well, what a load of crap. All Natasha Romanoff is, is a coward. There.

You’re so pissed off, all you want to do is open up her file and write “committment issues” under weaknesses.

But that’s not your job.

No, your job is intelligence and data analysis. Go over information, read endless reports and make a summary that the Avengers can understand, because they don’t have the time to sit around and do it themselves.

And now, you’re here, talking about a new terrorist organization with Steve. Natasha should be here, as second in command, but for reasons unknown to you and Captain America, she has failed to show up.

Again, coward.

Fine, if she doesn’t answer your texts you’ll find her anywhere she’s hiding in this big ass building.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam greets as you walk down the hall.

“Damn. Is it allowed to have guns in the kitchen area?” you smile mischiveously, used to flirting around with the team. He looks around, clearly confused and you reach out to touch his bicep. “I mean, what are they feeding you, Wilson? You’re as buff as Steve”

“Hell, yeah” he smiles, flexing and putting on a little show. You’re laughing and making small talk when someone magically appears, glaring.

Natasha is fuming and you don’t know if the anger is directed at you or Sam. Looking directly at her, you laugh and place a strand of hair behind your ear, as if Sam just said the funniest thing ever.

She can’t answer a fucking text but feels jealous? Well, good. At least you know she cares.

“You’re annoying her, Wilson” Bucky joins you, leaning against the kitchen island and giving you a crooked smile. “Hey, doll”

“Hi, handsome” you place your hands on each side of his face. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah” he says, practically drooling.

“I think you’d look really good if you cut your hair”

“I’ll think about it” he promises.

“Move aside, I’m taking Y/N out for lunch” Sam says, pushing Bucky.

“Oh, sweetheart. You can’t handle all of this” you tease. “But I won’t say no to lunch”

“That’s good enough for me” he agrees, offering his arm. You take it, winking at Bucky and walking away.

Natasha is already planning six different ways to make Wilson disappear, and Bucky goes to his room.

“Gotta get a haircut” he mumbles.

Oh, like hell.

Neither one of them can touch what’s hers.

—

Natasha: How was lunch?

Y/N: Oh, NOW you text me?

Y/N: We need to talk. Call me.

—

Natasha throws the phone across the room, feeling like screaming into her pillow. It still smells like you, which makes her heart ache.

If only she hadn’t been so stupid to ruin whatever it is you two had.

You were on top of her, riding her strap, as you had done so many times since you started your situationship. Hands on Natasha’s abdomen, feeling how her muscles worked to pump in and out of you.

“I love your tits” Natasha said, breathless. You nodded, bouncing harder, moaning desperately. “I love your pussy, it’s perfect for my cock”

“Baby, I’m so close” you whined, so desperate you barely registered her next words.

“I love you”

Eyes wide open, your movements stopped for a second. Before you could answer, Natasha flipped you and you were face down, ass in the air as she entered, pounding harder.

And you really wanted to ask what the fuck and if she really meant what she said, but you were so close that all you could do was moan her name and come hard around the strap.

You barely registered when Natasha pulled out. You felt empty and confused and so stretched.

“Nat? Babe, wait”

“I have to… I forgot a mission report, I’m sorry” she muttered, putting her clothes on and leaving in a hurry. She ran out of her own fucking room before owning what she said.

And now, she couldn’t even look at you. She couldn’t stand the idea that you would reject her.

The little hope that lingered in the back of her mind was the most painful feeling of all.

All she wanted was to be loved by you.

—

Call me means fucking call me.

It means don’t pretend nothing happened.

God, she’s so infuriating. And hot. And good at sex.

But mostly infuriating.

Now you’re back in the Compound, determined to get her to talk to you. Which is why you decided to wear your low cut dress and push up bra.

She said she loves your breasts, right? Well, here they fucking are.

You carry a bunch of binders that need filing, and they help cover your boobs as you enter the living room. Natasha is sitting, and you think she is almost ready to approach you when Sam beats her to it.

“Here, let me help you” Sam offers. The minute your cleavage comes to view, his eyes widen.

“Hey, doll” Bucky greets and you turn around. His mouth flails open, but all you can do is admire his new look.

“Buck, oh my God! You actually listened to me?” you run your hands through his hair, making it impossible for him to look away from your chest. “You look absolutely stunning. Good boy”

“Yeah, uh… I…”

The interaction annoys Natasha, but she knows you won’t even entertain the idea of doing anything with those two.

Her mood quickly changes when Carol appraches you. She's a whole different story.

“Carol, it’s been ages since you’ve been here! All I read are your mission briefings” you say, hugging her tight.

“Well, how bout I tell you everything I’ve been up to over dinner?” she offers with a smile.

“Y/N” Natasha finally snaps. “I missed this week’s report. Mind filling me in?”

“Sure thing” you pull away, reluctantly. “Be right back, Danvers”

Natasha leads you to the conference room and pushes you against the door as soon as you enter.

“Why must you be such a brat?” she whispers against your ear, biting down your earlobe.

“It's the only way to get your attention, Natasha” you protest, trying to sound upset.

You’re torn between lust and anger, but she’s such a good kisser that her lips make you forget everything that’s happened in the last few days.

“I should punish you” she threatens, going down your body and pulling the dress up. Who is she kidding? Her mouth is watering at the thought of tasting you. “Bet you’d love that”

Love.

The word pulls you out of your trance. Natasha is about to take your panties off when you stop her, pulling her away by her hair.

“We’re going to talk”

“You don’t make the calls here”

“Natasha, stop it. I’m serious”

You really don’t want her to stop, but you can’t keep wondering if she meant it.

You want her to mean it.

“Are you seriously gonna make a big deal about it?”

“Ugh, you drive me insane, Natasha. Why can’t you just admit what you said and whether or not you meant it? Do you even care about what I want?”

She stays silent and you groan, pulling up your dress and fixing your clothes.

“I really wanted to be more than just fuck buddies” you admit before going out. “But if the thought of loving me is so embarassing for you, then forget about it. I won’t force the feeling out of you”

Natasha stays behind, wondering how she got it all wrong.

You wanted her.

By the time she comes to her senses, you’re long gone. But Carol does meet her in the hallway, smiling.

“Hey, do you mind telling Cap I’m skipping our meeting? Y/N and I are having dinner”

“Sure” Natasha nods, feeling her stomach drop.

Now it’s too late and she lost you.

—

The second anniversary of the Sokovian Accords comes and goes in a flash. Natasha really wanted to skip it, go find you and apologize.

And yet, here she is, in the Quinjet, flying back to the Compound after two days of exhausting diplomacy.

“Why couldn’t we stay a few days in Paris?” Sam laments for the third time.

“New recruits are in the middle of their training” Barton says from the pilot seat. “At least they got a break these last couple of days”

 “No, they didn’t” Wanda says. “Y/N is training them. Maria asked her to do it before we left”

“Y/N?” everyone says, looking at each other.

“But she’s a data analyst, not a field agent” Sam says.

“And the sweetest person ever” Bucky adds. He holds Natasha’s glare and smiles. Oh, he knows what’s up.

“Well, let’s make sure we put them back into shape when we get there” Steve slaps Bucky’s arm.

Boy, are they all wrong. When the team goes back to the Compound, you’re in the middle of a training session. A guy runs out of the gym, his shoulder crashing against Sam’s as he bolts for the exit.

“She’s fucking crazy, man” he says to himself, looking terrified.

“What the hell?”

Steve pushes the door to the gym. And there you are, in the middle of sparring. With one swift motion you kick the guy to the floor, and he puts his hands up, as if begging for mercy.

“Oh, we have company” you taunt, walking confidently around the students. “Anyone want to fight the Avengers? I promise you they’re not as hard to beat”

“Who is she and what has she done to Y/N?” Barton whispers.

Natasha has to hold back a moan. You look cold and deathly, having kicked all of their asses without breaking a sweat. That also explains why you’re so… bendy.

“Fine. Since none of you could even land a hit on me, you’re running ten laps. Don’t come back here unless you’ve thrown up or cried once”

All the recruits scramble to their feet, relieved now that they can get away from you. You turn around, giving the Avengers a challenging look.

“What? Wanna give it a try? I’ll go easy on you” you say. “Maybe not on Natasha, though. She hasn’t been a good girl”

“Ew” Wanda says, leaving the room. Between that and Natasha’s bendy thought, that was so loud she might as well have screamed it in the middle of the gym, she’s had enough.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got” Barton is the only one that steps up. You nod, evaluating his approach. He throws the first punch but it never lands. You move out of his way at record speed, keeping the contact at minimum while you kick the back of his legs, making him fall on his knees. Another three blows and Clint is face down on the mat.

“Pass” Sam says when you turn around to see who’s next.

“I’ll take my chances” Natasha says, stepping up. You smile in a way that makes a chill run down her spine.

Natasha thinks you can never go wrong with a classic move, so she throws her legs around your neck. But you block the movement and make her land on her back, hands pinned abover her head.

It happens at least three different times, each position becoming more sexual.

“I think we should leave” Bucky says.

“In a minute”

“Come on, Wilson” he forces him out the door, closing it for good measure and hoping you keep your clothes on before the recruits come back.

If they even come back.

“I promise you, you’re not gonna win this time, Natasha” you say, out of breath for the first time. Her eyes travel to your lips and you lean forward, stopping inches away from her mouth. “And I sure as hell ain’t letting you go without talking about that thing you said the other day”

“Please…”

“Now you’re polite. Now you say please. I’ve been chasing you for a fucking week to know if you like me for more than my tits and ass” you finally give in, kissing her for a few seconds. She whines against your mouth, trying to create friction. But your hold is too strong and she can’t move an inch without your permission.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I was scared you’d reject me and then everything would be ruined forever between us. I love you, so damn much it scares me” Natasha finally breaks, surprising herself with the way she’s pouring her heart out to you.

But that’s how much she loves you and how much she needs you.

Her words leave you breathless and you smile, going back to being your usual self.

“Natasha, I love you so damn much, it drives me crazy. Please don’t ever doubt that, sweetheart”

She nods, her nose rubbing against yours and you finally do what you’ve been craving all week. You kiss her, gently at first, and then more passionately, your hands dropping from hers to let her hug you.

You moan against her mouth, Natasha’s tongue slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, I need you” you moan, going back to being submissive for the redhead.

“What does my pretty girl want? My mouth or my fingers?”

“Just you, anything, please”

Thinking back to the last time she almost had you, her mouth waters and she decides to flip you on your back and travel down your body, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and pulling down your shorts and underwear.

“All of this for me?” she asks, running her fingers up and down your slit, collecting your juices and sucking on her digit. “I missed your taste, princess”

“Nat, please” you cant your hips up, hoping she takes the hint. You’re too far gone to form a coherent sentence.

Natasha darts her tongue out. She moans at the taste, and snakes her arms around your thighs to keep you in place. Her tongue goes up and down, then deep inside you and you shudder.

You would almost feel embarrassed for lasting so little, but it’s not your fucking fault she was hiding for a week.

When you remember that, your hands go to her hair and you pull her closer. Natasha enjoys the roughness, her movements speeding up and pushing you over the edge.

You come, crying out her name and trembling. As you struggle to catch your breath, Natasha moves up, letting you taste yourself in her mouth.

“Hey, baby”

“Hey” you say, smiling.

“Can I take you out to dinner tonight? I’d like to make it up to you”

“Yes to dinner. And give me a couple more of those orgasms and we’ll call it even”

“That sounds like a deal” she smiles against your lips, eager to make up for the lost time.

[sunshineandspencer]

Jogging

A/N: I’ve discovered that I, actually, despise angst. I hate reading it and I hate writing it, unless specifically asked for, my brain thinks only happy thoughts. On an unrelated note, I’m also a very emotional person and perhaps angst sets off my severe second-hand embarrassment and I’ve never finished an angst fic. So, from that unrelated note, have a finished fluffy fic :) 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Aaron is incredibly attractive at the best of times, but put him in sports gear and it’s like flies to honey. Which is an excellent cultivator of jealousy for his jogging partner, until she overhears him talking to another woman.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kind of established relationship (you’ll see)

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

Going for a morning run with her more-than-a-friend-but-not-quite-labelled man, was fun. Aaron taught her some proper techniques, and she got a kiss whenever they completed a lap.

There is an issue, unfortunately, and it’s one she’s desperately trying not to blow out of proportion.

Aaron is attractive, devastatingly so, and because he occasionally runs ahead to finish a lap and wait for her to arrive so that he can greet her with a kiss, people don’t always know that they’re out together. Added with him in those damn workout clothes - that she would burn if she weren’t mentally stable - it’s no surprise to her anymore to see women jogging up to him.

They’re almost always gone by the time she makes it over to Aaron, who kisses her and immediately moves on to their next lap. She tries hard not to let the clawing jealousy show.

Due to JAck, and both of them agreeing not to move too quickly so that they don’t confuse him, they’d just decided on not labelling anything yet. So she isn’t really anything official to him, and can’t do all the things her jealous mind screams at her to do.

Like today, for example, Aaron had pressed a kiss to her cheek and sped up to get to the end of their lap. 

The minute he’s not beside another woman, someone else runs up to him.

She hears the fading introduction of “hi, I’m Beth, I see you around here pretty often” and her stomach clenches.

Once again, her pretty, not-boyfriend is getting hit on by a woman who can actually keep his pace. She hates it, and hates the burning hole in her chest even more.

Deciding, this time, she would actually speed up and join the conversation. Which will ultimately be worth the burst lungs and exertion-flushed face. Until she turns the corner and sees them still talking, any semblance of confidence withers.

When she hears her name on his lips, however, she dives behind the nearest tree. Realising he just gestured to where she should be coming from, and hoping neither of them had seen her practically rush for cover to avoid being seen. Pressing her back to the bark of the tree and listening closely to the conversation.

“-out with my girlfriend, actually, we run together.”

If she weren’t hiding behind a tree, from a random woman and the man that just called her his girlfriend, she’d be doing a happy dance by now. Choosing to press her hands to her chest as the burning hole closed up, victoriously grinning as ‘Beth’ jogged on feeling pretty dejected.

Once sure that Beth was gone, she turned to place her hands on the tree, bracing herself to look around it to try and spot Aaron, that daft smile still on her face. But he wasn’t there, and that observation came with a pair of hands landing on her hips and making her jump and spin around. Meeting Aaron’s smug grin as he gently pinned her to the tree by her hips.

“Are you spying on me now?”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she started looking all around them - as if searching for someone, and that only made his stupid grin wider.

“Should be careful Hotchner, wouldn’t want that girlfriend you mentioned to catch you pinning a girl to a tree.”

“Oh?” Knowing she’d heard, he now has no plans to try and keep up the facade that he hasn’t wanted her, officially, for weeks now. “And do you think she’d be upset if I kissed the woman I pinned to a tree?”

Giving a dramatic gasp, she used it to breathe in fully to answer, realising that her lungs aren’t really cooperating with her right now. And he used that as his chance to lean down to kiss her, loving the sparky feeling he gets from her every time. Siling against her lips as she melted against him.

Pulling back with a soft nip to her lips that had her chasing after him. Before realising what she was doing and resting back against the tree, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

“I think she’d definitely hate the thought of you doing that to anyone else.”

“Ah, so she gets jealous?”

As if she were caught out, her eyes darted away from his as she pouted - from a profiling perspective, she really does have cute tells when she’s been caught - tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“She pleads the fifth.”

Thankfully, as she knows he actually loves any jokes that relate to his time as a lawyer, he laughs, leaning down to kiss her again, hand trailing away from her hip to lace their fingers together. Pulling back with a soft hum and another soft peck.

Swiping his thumb across her knuckles as he waited for her to open her eyes again, loving the little flush speckled across her features that obscured her freckles.

“Will she forgive me if I take her to get ice cream?”

“Definitely.”

Tugging her away from the tree, he brushes the flakes of bark from her hair and clothes, spending a little too much time ‘brushing off’ whatever was on her ass, until she smacks his hand away with a laugh. Leading the two of them back towards the car, deliberating what kind of ice cream ‘his girlfriend’ would like the most.

But as they get in, he gives her another smile and laces their hands over the centre console.

“You do know I’m calling you my girlfriend, right?”

Shaking her head, she leant in to kiss him again, pulling away to pat his cheek lightly. 

“Didn’t need to be a profiler for that one, love.”

“Oh, so you’re a profiler now?”

“Best watch it, I’m coming for your job next.

Laughing, he lets go of her hand to start up the car, already knowing exactly which ice cream place they were going to - and exactly what she would order. Not that she’s predictable in the slightest, but she always orders the exact same thing.

“First my heart, now my job? At this rate you’ll have my house by the end of the week.”

“That’s the plan!”

He’s going to marry this goddamn woman.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides ║ @peachsodameg ║ @angelinajolie0213 ║ @jiggly-puff-12 ║ @khxna ║ @kennedy2156 ║ @trulycayla ║ @none-of-your-bullshit ║ @alexxavicry ║ @meg-black ║ @princess76179 ║ @chicken-fifi ║ @averyhotchner ║ @punkyghoulz ║ @anotherpassiongirl ║ @princessjax ║ @gghostwriter ║ @pear-1206 ║ @justyourusualash (if your tag is here and not working check out this reblog to see if any of it could hopefully help!!)

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

[vinjinssunglasses]

Hi dear how are you I hope you are doing well! Can you write a hc about yamazaki shingen in which he loves one of his wife(yn) but yn is and independent , smart and strong will woman who doesn't like her situation! And he only knows her children his own!

─────────⋆༺𓆩❤︎𓆪༻⋆──────────

✧ character; yamazaki shingen

✧ summary; all your life, you’ve been mistreated. Until you met Shingen, who showed you compassion. However, in this clan you’re just a pawn. To them, you’re not human. Shingen only claims his children as his like the others do, brainwashed by his upbringing. You hate your situation, and admist the tears you tell him how you really feel.

✧ tags; hurt/comfort, angst, tragedy, communication

✧ w/c; 3.4k

✧ a/n; tysm for req ^^ help this took so long. shingen crying btw?! uhhbye ily guys <33

─────────⋆༺𓆩❤︎𓆪༻⋆──────────

You head towards your favourite place in this forsaken place, the only area you could feel calm under its gaze — the fountain. Its splashes of water calm you, letting you take a deep breath as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You flipped a coin inside, wishing upon the stars to give you a stroke of luck. Even though you did this everyday, everything always seemed to get worse. Cleaning up for others beyond your own will, while questioning authority will only get you tied in tighter shackles than before, is it really worth the risk? Despite your protests, you were always forced into submission.

As if the world despised and damned your very existence, cursed your name in spite, life seemed to only get worse from here. Letting out a disappointed sigh, you hear the familiar laughing and gossiping in the background. As soon as you turned around, you instantly regretted it. Those other ‘lowlifes’ were laughing at your situation, accompanied by a few low-rankers of the Yamazaki clan.

Don’t they ever get enough?

Nobody here liked you, they all wished upon a more wealthy clan to take the spot as Gun’s mother. They only knew you as Gun’s mother anyway.

They yelled and threw curse words at your name, while you rightfully walked past them, ignoring their usual antics. It was like this everyday, it was just something you were forced to get used to. You know better than to let them go like this, however your protests don’t improve the situation. And they’re starting to get tired of reprimanding your behaviour.

“Go back to your lethargic husband then, huh? We all know Shintaro—.” What? The rage hit you, sharp and blinding. Before you had even realised, your hands shot out, tangling in her hair before yanking her forward, forcing her to look into your eyes.

“What? What did you say?” The girl’s laughter cut off, dissolving as you slapped her, the sound ringing in the silence.

“Talk about me all you like. But I won’t sit here annd listen to you insult my husband, understood?”

Her eyes widened, darting between you and your clenched fists, body trembling as she dared not spare another word. Her defiance crumbled under the weight of your hard, breath catching in her throat as she nodded obediently.

Then you heard it, the familiar shout of your name, cutting through the noise, sharp and unyielding. You loosened your grip on her, turning to the tall figure walking towards you. Quickly picking up those girls were creating false accusations against you, claiming you started to pick a fight, you could only sigh and await your punishment.

Here it comes, the bitterness sinking deeper.

“Come with me.”

You clicked your tongue in a subtle gesture of disapproval, following along unwillingly. The distant chatter of the girls fading away eased you a little, yet you were still stern. He fanned himself, choosing his words carefully as though to not provoke you up further. The trees are starting to blossom into a lovely pastel pink, and the sun is starting to set later than it should. Summer is one of the only things you look forward to. Its burning rays distract you from the thoughts that often keep you awake at night.

“What happened?” His tone unusually kind, as if offering a branch of support.

“Whatever they said about me.” A curt reply passed your lips, as you upheld your serious frown.

“Still, there was no need to—“ He stopped himself, adjusting his glasses as though rethinking his approach. Shintaro parted his lips, as if to say something, before speaking: “I have an offer for you.”

His gaze narrowed slightly, and you raised an eyebrow and you came to a halt. Shintaro scanned the area for any potential spies, then leaned closer, breathe warm against your ear.

“Betray Shingen with me. It’s a simple process, and I guarantee you a happier life.”

“What?” This bastard is also a traitor? Recently, there has been a slow yet steady rise of people disliking the current leader, and the vice president’s support of this sentiment increases the danger. For a moment, you were paralysed. Is this some sort of a rebellion? “I’m not going to do that.”

Shintaro sighed, almost as though he expected your refusal. “I should’ve guessed.”

“Don’t speak another word of this.” You spat, your mind whirling as you turned sharply, making your waytowards your chambers. Each step felt like nails stabbing into your feet, and you dragged your torn self.

‘Rebel against Shingen’ Those words replayed in your mind like a broken record, making your mind dizzy. Lost in thought, you collided into someone. Mumbling a rushed apology, you tried to push past, only to feel a clamped hand around your wrist.

“I was looking for you! Shingen’s kid are playing In the garden when he should be training, so can you-” Shingen’s kids? Those words struck like a slap. Am I just a babysitter to these people?

“Get off me!” You pushed them away onto the floor, tearing up at the eyes. Once having fought for your independence, you believed your life had a purpose other than the cruel expectations set upon you as a birthing machine, a housewife. Your beliefs are all worthless, mercilessly proven by how now you were drifting upon a place that left no room for your wants and needs.

Where did all of this mess began? Was it the day you were born that life was fated to become like this? Nurtured to be obedient and quiet, yet you never want your voice to be silenced. It didn’t matter how much you tried to scream, yell, protest, it was if you were deafened to arrogant ears. Your teenage years were the worst point, you were described as reckless and selfish to the yakuza rules. All these emotions stirred inside to create a mixture of depressive episode and lashes of anger, all to make someone listen to you even once.

It wasn’t your best bet to resort to violence. But it worked. Even though you were allowed to personally train as a woman, you were just as capable as a man at heart. Secretly watching how your older brothers took over aikido, you begged for them to train you behind your clan’s backs. When they found out, they almost disowned you. Where else were you to go? Wandering the streets, with all these tattoos? Nobody would talk you in as the mess you were.

Shingen.. The leader of a clan known for its ability to make even the strongest, well-known clans to sink to their knees. Although he was seem ruthless by his uptight exterior, he was the first to ever appreciate you. The only man to ever carry you in his arms, bury his face into your neck, and treat you so lovingly. You hated yourself for the little you were worth, but he truly made you feel like the only person in the world.

It feels like your world is collapsing atop you, nobody there to pull you out of the way of a boulder. Deep breaths, deep breathes… For all your life you’ve bottled up all your emotions, so why is it so difficult now? As soon as you pushed open that door, you practically collapsed onto that bed, sinking into the warm sheets.

That following week came the dreaded family event, where other clans came to congratulate the birthdat of Gun. He was just a little boy by now, 10 years old. That little boy deserved the world, to be happy and play kendama all day as he wished. Though his life was already planned for him — the day he was to take over all the gangs in the area, the day he’d give up all his dreams and surrender himself. Just two years ago, would he cling to your skirt and hold your hand tightly when you spoke to unfamiliar people. How do they expect an innocent soul like his to ruthlessly murder like his father?

Life isn’t fair on him, nor on you. Coexisting in this selfish world, only you stood by his side. You wanted the best for him, for him to do anything he wanted. Against your will, he were to be a street fighter, fated to inheriting that name, ‘Machine Gun’.

You make sure to apply extra concealer to cover the dark circles and the tear stains from the night before. Shingen came from behind you and kissed your neck, biting your earlobe teasingly, his tall stature curling around you.

“Are you okay, baby?” It’s best if he doesn’t know anyway, right?. Around you, he seems to never stop smiling, unable to keep his loving gaze off of you. it’s be a shame to wipe that all away with your own burdens.

“Im alright, Shingen.” I smile, resting my free hand upon his head, stroking through the silky-smooth strands.

“We have to get going,” Shingen softly spoke, taking your hand in his. Before leaving, he pressed a delicate kiss on the back of your hand, reminding you how much he values you.

It’s 5 o’clock, and Shingens swarmed with the other ladies from different clans. Although jealous, they must be going through the tough traditions we must uphold — to marry and have sex with the man who upholds the most power. In this case, your beloved. That was how your twisted romance started — from the unfairness placed upon you and thousands of other undeserving women. You were lucky to have given birth to your son. Ever so often, you think about what could’ve happened in stead. What if Shingen never opened his heart to you, fallen so deeply in love with you?

Taking a glass of wine, you finished it in one gulp, hoping to shove these thoughts to the back of your mind. Shingens still the same man he was when he first met you — cold, unbothered with a sharp, scrutinising glare. The same one that you found yourself shamefully attracted to. Unbothered, he sighed, absentmindedly making conversations, eyes drifting away from theirs as if something is occupying his mind.

Before you could even stand, you hear the familiar shout of your name. Applauding joyfully with a half-finished wine glass in her hand, hiccuping while congratulating you

“It’s been a couple years,” She smiled, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. You scowled while stiffly trying to make some distance in between you two. “How’s his son?”

“His..?” You muttered, confused. “He’s doing well, he’s a quick learner. The Kojima’s have said he’s mastered Aikido by now.”

Keeping up appearances was something you were always taught to follow. It was engraved in you, impossible to unlearn after being beaten for forgetting.

“Right, right. He’ll grow up just to be like his father. Shingen-nim has been raising him well.” One thing you hated about Shingen was that he was not present in his child’s life often. When Gun cried in the middle of the night, it was put upon you to rock him to sleep once more; despite the aches of your back. Breastfeeding, playing with him, changing his diapers — your responsibility. The only thing the Yamazaki clan did for you was train him to be a killing machine, it was his sole purpose for his birth in the first place.

“Yes. He’s a good father.” Your eyebrows furrowed, yet you had to keep that polite, strained smile on your face.

“He looks just like him, doesn’t he? Reverse eyes, fighting skills—“

“Apologies, it seems I have something to do right now. Is it okay if I get back to you?” Your fists clenched at your sides, voice straining to keep its elegance.

“Oh well, if it’s that important then it cannot be helped.” She took another drink of her wine, waving you goodbye while you stormed off. Fighting skills and reverse eyes… If it wasn’t for that, would she even care? Was she purposely ignoring all the resemblance I have to my own child? He’s the splitting image of me for crying out loud?! Holding your head in your hands, you quickly realised this would be a bad look.

Your son was sitting next to his nephew, Haruto. Gun loved playing games and having fun, while on the other hand Haruto was interested in strategies and books. Whenever you saw him, he was always knee-deep in another tale. Although they were opposites, they always got along. Such a shame that Gun won’t have much time to play with him when he got older. Their bond was like brothers, if you saw Gun you would also see Haruto. As if they were attached at the hip. He’d even watch him practicing martial arts, and Gun would rest his head upon his shoulder while Haruto read. The warm, spring breeze hitting their faces while he basked in the sun’s rays.

Unlike Gun, you felt isolated — nobody to truly let out your emotions to. Everyone was enjoying the evening while you were torn in the corner. Where’s your happy ending? That son, your blood and tears in one being, wasn’t even socially considered yours. And Shingen didn’t seem to mind your discretisation. Sitting here, bathing him his own luxuries, on top of the world like he’d always had been. Raised to be head, nobody had ever put him in his place.

That rebellion Shintaro mentioned.. Your eyes shift to Shintaro’s overwhelming presence in the crowd, creating chatter amongst the women. If they couldn’t have Shingen, they’d atleast marry another powerful man like him. This all makes you wonder, is the rebellion valid? Again, you’re giving yourself a headache, it’s best not to think about it.

The night carries on, and you find yourself sitting, alone with the company of the depressive thoughts to fight to shove them away. That conversation replays in your head like a broken record. He’s your son too, right? You birthed and raised him all by yourself.

Shingen excused himself from the idle chatter and came to sit next to you, lacing your hands in his.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. What was the lady from that clan talking about?” He asked, unable to suppress a smile when he’s with you. Softly gazing into your eyes, a sharp contrast from the same stern eyes that he used at those women striking conversation.

“Jonggun. She was asking how he were getting along.” You answer honestly, while his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand. “I told her he’s mastered Aikido.”

“Of course, he’s a Yamazaki through and through,” Shingen spoke, taking a deep breath while using that steady authority he always used, with a hint of gentleness. “I expect no less, my bloodline is pure.”

Those careless words pierced through your chest like a sharp blade. All this constant stress made your headache even more, and you poured another glass of the wine resting on the table.

“Pure..” You muttered, those words buttering your tongue, voice drowned out by the hum of chatter. Taking a glance at his face, he remained unfazed, looking down upon your soft fingers against his scarred, calloused ones. He never noticed how you felt. Never read the emotion building up onto your voice, causing your face to contort into one of frustration. Then again, you’re in public, you’ve been taught to remain calm and collected.

“The children will carry on my legacy.”*

“Your legacy, you say..?” You repeated once more, this time loud enough for his ears to catch on. Setting the glass down with more force then necessary, creating a loud thump that diverted eyes and conversations.

“I’m feeling unwell, please excuse me.” Walking through these damned hallways once more, the echo of gasps seemed to fade away. You almost couldn’t bare to see his face any longer. Undoing the laces and ties of your kimono, you threw it onto the floor in a fit of fury . The undergarments lay scattered upon the floor while you buried your head into your pillow. The makeup slid off your face, staining the pillow and smudging your mascara. Whether it had been minutes or hours, you didn’t know. After a while, you eventually calmed down, sniffling while staring at your blank ceiling. Only then did you hear the door sliding open.

He called your name, and you instantly rolled over, turning away from him.

“Are you alright? What’s the matter?” He sat onto the bed, you weren’t ready to confront him with this yet. The years you’ve endured this pain. The mistreatment. You were ashamed for yourself. Gathering all your courage, you spoke:

“What you said back then. Before I excused myself.” Shingen raised an eyebrow. “You always say that.” You spat, voice trembling, bubbling over with the suppressed tears.

“Our children. Our legacy. They’re my children too. My tainted blood runs through their veins just as much as yours. But you never say that, do you? Not does anyone. Nobody acknowledges my very existence, they only talk to talk about your son, your achievements. You don’t bat an eye — no, you don’t even care how I feel.” You swallowed throat right, tears streaming down your face. “Or maybe it’s my fault, I..”

The words tumbled out your mouth now, chest tight, spilling with the words you’ve always wanted to say. “How come the world only cares about you? I was the one who changed his diapers, I was the only one who was acruallly present in his life. Were you even there when he took his first steps? Or learnt how to say ‘mama’? I’m just the perfect vessel to continue your perfect bloodline.”

The room was deadly silent. Shingen held his head in his hands, lips parting yet remained silent. He took a deep breathe, as if fully processing it all.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You let out a chocked sob. “Pretending everything’s fine, being fucked over constantly, I..”

Shingen breath hitched, the silence between you becoming unbearable. Finally he spoke, low and ashamed.

“I haven’t been completely blind to all of this. I know they haven’t been as accepting of you as they should. You’re a strong woman, yet I’ve let things go too far. There’s only so much in person can take.” Voice barely above a whisper, laced with a vulnerability you rarely heard, he felt too ashamed to even look at you. “The things they’ve said behind my back are unacceptable. I’ve seen how they deduce your worth to nothing…” Shingen could barely piece himself together to finish that sentence, struggling to string together words.

“They’re my family; I was raised this way.. This ignorant mindset of mine passed down from generations, it’s almost apart of me. It’s no excuse for what I’ve let you go through. You’re right — I should’ve been there but I wasn’t.” For the first time ever, you watched a tear glisten down his cheeks. “I should’ve been there. Not just for you, for our son.”

“Why must you make me stay in a household where I’m never good enough? I can’t live like this forever.”

Shingen didn’t have an answer. He sniffled, as if weighing all the years he refused to reflect on. The silence was think and oppressive, and neither of you wanted to spare a word. Finally, he raised his gaze, coming to terms with himself.

“It’s time things changed. From now own, I want you to tel me what you want. I’ll do anything, even if it’s means shedding blood.”

You blinked, the words sinking in slowly.

Shingen reached to cup your face, with the familiar feel of his firm yet gentle touch.

“This clan has always been my legacy to take over. Ever since I was young, I’ve been subjected to vigorous training to be the man that I am today. But if it costs me my beloved and our own child, it’s time I choose differently. For you, for us, for him.”

The you pulled yourself into him, pressing your tear-streaked face against his kimono while he wrapped you in his arms. You choked back your words, your sobs muffled against his increasing heartbeat. The tension within you. unwinded slowly while his words lingered in the air. Shingen sighed, uncontrollably smiling while he sobbed.

Shingen’s hand found its way back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair, his relieved breaths a soothing sigh against your temple. As he held you, his face twistes into one you’ve never witnessed before — remorse. After years, he saw himself break, quiet trembling sobs escaping his lips. His grip around tightened, as if he were afraid to be alone.

It was his first apology. A start to a new era.

[savannahsdeath]

hii i have a little ellie request. so can we maybe have an enemies to lovers where reader and ellie “hate each other” but in reality ellie just wants to be with reader and she ends up using the strap roughly bc reader didn’t wanna confess after years? (sorry this seems long😭)

i absolutely love this idea omg??

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

PART1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, 'enemies' to lovers, strap (r!receiving), mean!ellie kinda??, rough!ellie, reader is also mean at first !!

writers note: i love receiving requests like yall are so creative and idkk its just easier to write a req than my own idea🫣🫣 also this turned out to be longer than i expected (my longest fanfic yet!) but even the anon said it seems long so ig thats how its supposed to be🙏

It was another PE lesson you hate so much. It wouldn't be that bad, if not the fact that you're in the same team with Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams.

She would get mad at you for every little mistake you made. You absolutely hated her.

You had to admit she was... pretty. Especially when she had the mix of mad and stern expression on her face. Sometimes you provoked her just to watch her insult every little thing about you she could but you didn't mind. You just sat there with a smirk, sometimes making a mockingly worried face to piss her off even more. Sometimes. Sometimes you weren't in mood for that and you'd actually get offended. Sometimes even hurt. But you couldn't really blame her, that's how it works.

This day, you were literally rescuing your team. Every point was because of you. Every 'that was close' situation was only 'close' because of you. But your luck, or whatever made you win, had to run out eventually. You missed one time.

"What happened? Got holes in your hands? Tired? Not so good anymore?" Ellie asked you with that mocking tone.

Everyone ignored your interaction - they knew what's starting and they didn't want to get involved in that.

"I've done pretty much everything for this team, and the only thing you do is complain, Williams." You said and you could feel your temper rising.

Ellie didn't hesitate to respond to that.

"Well at least I don't do a half-ass job like you. You're really so full of yourself, aren't you? Why not just give up and let someone actually capable take over, huh?" She barked sarcastically.

The other team members didn't even try to hide their excitement now, they just sat back and enjoyed the show, even the teacher was having a hard time holding back the grin on his face whenever Ellie came up with a new insult.

And now, there was no going back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Williams, did your precious little ego get hurt from that? Are my skills threatening your so-called pride? Well if you don't like it, suck it up." You shot back.

If this kept up, you were going to end up with another detention for sure. Everyone knew that you two were like oil and water, but nobody really expected you to get into a shouting match over PE class. Especially, not this early in the morning.

The teacher finally decided that it was enough trouble, and he stepped between the two.

"Ladies, settle down! If you can't figure out how to work well together in a simple PE session, then you'll need more than one detention to figure it out. Go sit down." He ordered, and you two sat down, next to each other.

As if following a silent order, all the other students just went about their business and pretended like nothing had happened.

"You should learn how to shut up sometimes." You said quietly, nervously playing with your fingers.

"You should stop thinking you're so damn important." She snapped back, completely ignoring your advice as she stared at you with the same icy cold look as before.

The teacher came over to the two of you and handed you a form, which you quickly read over. "Maybe it's rough but that's what you both deserve after arguing in every single class. And if that won't help... I don't know what will. Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything, understood?."

In short, the file was saying you'll have spent a month after school doing little school works, like cleaning the gym, with her. It was a frequent way of dealing with problematic students in your school.

You weren't even surprised - the teacher was right. Your little bickers were the main gossip topic and there was no way they'll go unnoticed.

Still, you couldn't help but frown.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath. Spending a month after school doing odd jobs with Ellie was literally the last thing you wanted to do. You knew there was some sort of punishment coming, but this was extreme.

Ellie overheard your muttering, and she rolled her eyes. "It's just a bunch of cleaning, what's wrong, can't handle a little hard work?" She mocked.

"And why are you so happy? Maybe you wished to spend more time with me?" You chuckled, finally looking up at her.

Ellie seemed caught off guard, but she quickly recomposed herself. "Who said I was happy? Sure, I'll love to see you grovel and scrub floors while I sit back and relax." She replied in a sarcastic tone.

You decided to press your advantage, and give Ellie a dose of her own medicine. "Aww, is someone actually admitting that they like spending time with me? I'm so honored." You said with an overdramatized fake fluster.

Ellie didn't even let you finish your sentence before she cut in with her usual sarcastic tone. "Pfff, don't get so ahead of yourself there." She chided. Even then, you could hear some slight annoyance in her voice.

Ellie may have been a jerk, but there was something about her you couldn't help but like. You couldn't explain it, but you liked this banter between the two of you.

Oh, who were you trying to lie to? You liked her. You were just good at hiding it.

You were just about to open your mouth to respond to Ellie's last snarky remark, when you were cut off again.

"Enough."

You both turned to see the teacher staring at the two of you. He sounded more annoyed than before, and you decided it was better to stop your feud before you got in any more trouble.

"You two are already going to spend a month together doing odd jobs. The last thing we need is for you to add another week to that sentence." He warned.

You wanted to say something back, but you decided to shut up before the teacher had to make it worse. You and Ellie just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, before you rolled your eyes and got up from your seat.

After a few more classes, the time of  fulfilling your penalty came. You sat down at the gym benches, waiting for Ellie. You waited, and waited, but no one came.

Ellie was faster than you with getting up. She smirked and said; "Well it's not like you actually had anything worth saying anyway, so it's easier for you." With that parting jab, she walked out of the gym.

You expected something like that from her, so you stood up and a few minutes later you were standing in front of her room. You knocked to the door, patiently waiting for her to answer.

After a few moments, you heard footsteps, before the door finally opened. Ellie stood in front of you, her face as annoyed as ever.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, clearly not in the mood to be bothered right now.

"Uh, hello? We're supposed to be doing the clean-up, remember? You haven't forgotten, right?" You said, trying to stay as polite as you could.

She sighed and motioned for you to come in, clearly not ready to go just yet.

You slowly stepped into Ellie's room, your eyes taking in the decorations and mess. It was clear that this was Ellie's world, but you couldn't help but feel a slight curiosity towards her.

"So, why exactly weren't you at the gym?" You asked, finally breaking the tension. You didn't want her thinking you were here to start another argument.

"I had stuff to do." Was the terse response you were met with, nothing else.

"Yeah, of course." You rolled your eyes. "Your room could use some cleaning too."

Ellie smirked when your tone turned from polite to annoyed when she gave you her response, but you couldn't help but notice that she slightly recoiled when you mention how messy her room was. For someone with such a sharp tongue, she sure wasn't enjoying that same kind of treatment.

"Oh yeah? So maybe we should have you clean my room instead." She shot back.

"Actually, boarding school is still school, so that'd count too." You smirked, not so sarcastically anymore. You'd really rather stay in her room than running all over the building with a mop and dirty cloths.

Ellie raised one eyebrow at your reply, clearly not expecting you to just accept it without some kind of snarky remark or argument.

"Alright then." She replied simply, and she walked over to her bed and started to clear out the clutter. You couldn't really deny that her room was in a pretty messy state.

You explored the room, looking for something to start with.

Just then, near other scattered clothes, you saw feminine underwear. Clearly not hers.

"Um, Ellie..." You laughed. "Who's this?"

She walked up to you, not seeming surprised or embarrased at all. "I dunno. There's lots of girls visiting." She smirked.

You knew the smart thing to do would be just to drop the topic, but your curiosity got the best of you. Just who was Ellie Williams hanging out with?

"Really? And how many of them leave a pair of underwear in your room as a souvenir?" You asked, trying to keep a straight face, but you couldn't help but be amused by the situation.

Ellie just laughed, and you couldn't help but grin at her confidence in that moment.

"If you're asking if I'm dating someone," Ellie said, looking at you with an amused expression, "then no. I wouldn't call it dating."

You knew Ellie was always too stubborn and proud to just admit it normally, so you decided to push her just a little bit further.

"So it's not just a single person then? What's it? A new girl every day?" you asked with a smirk, knowing you'd hit a nerve there.

The slight flicker of annoyance on Ellie's face told you that you'd hit the mark.

"So what if it is? Are you jealous?" She teased in response, just adding fuel to the fire.

Now, she had the smirk on her face, and you just knew you'll regret what you started.

"Not really. Everyone knows you fuck every girl in the school anyways. Well, almost every." You suggestively pointed at yourself. "That's honestly sad. You should focus on one person, don't you think?"

Ellie took this as a challenge, she just couldn't resist it when you made yourself the exception.

"Oh, you think you're a special case? How cute." She snickered, and you couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased with that response after how much you two had been annoying each other for the past month.

"What do you think, should I consider dating you? It seems like you're interested, isn't that why you keep sticking around?" She asked, looking at you, knowing very well what kind of effect her words were gonna have on you.

"Me? Interested? You're the one finding excuses to talk to me every day, even if it's just another argument!" You shook your head and looked down, trying to hide that your smirk turns into a honest smile.

You felt Ellie's eyes studying your face as you tried to hide your genuine happiness, you tried to play it off, but you knew that it wasn't working in your favor. You couldn't even deny it, because it was true, you were interested in Ellie. Maybe not at first, but after spending time together, you grew to like her, her arrogance, her wit, the snarky smile on her face... and her eyes.

"Oh, so you do care!" She quickly cut in, sensing your weakness as your smile grew.

"Come on, don't tell me you've been enjoying this little game of ours, haven't you? Don't you look forward to it every day? Don't you love the adrenaline that kicks in when you're about to say something that's bound to start an argument?" She asked, taking a step closer to you and lowering her voice.

You could almost see the sparks fly as the two of you stared at each other, both feeling the tension in the air. You were almost tempted to take her up on the offer, but your pride got the best of you.

"You're just full of yourself, aren't you? Thinking everybody craves that attention." You said after taking a deep breath.

Ellie just smiled and walked straight to you, getting up close and personal.

"Well, I know you want it. So stop putting up a facade and admit it."

"I'm not like these sluts you fuck, Williams." You said, trying to keep your voice steady and calm.

Ellie just smirked in response. "You're right, you're not like them. You're better than them. And maybe you are a little special, considering how much you manage to piss me off everyday." She took a step back and looked you up and down. "I kinda like it." She said, and you couldn't help but feel your heart rate go up a little when she said that.

You just stared back at Ellie, not really sure what else to say in this situation. Both of your egos were too big to give the other one satisfaction, and neither would be making the first move.

She finally spoke up; "Your turn to be honest now. Admit you're into me."

She was awfully close to you now, daring you to say something.

"Don't push it, Ellie." You told her confidently, and even though you really wanted to say it, your pride was holding you back from admitting it.

Ellie just smirked and moved even closer to you, until her face was just an inch away from yours. "Say it." She whispered.

You felt your heart pounding faster as you just looked at her, not able to break her stare.

You shook your head. "No way."

She just chuckled at your response. "I knew you'd say that. And now, I'm gonna make you say it yourself."

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Ellie pulled you close, just enough to make your lips meet. You just stood there, completely stunned by how bold she was, but at the same time, the feeling of her lips against yours was so new and so good as well. You hadn't felt this type of rush before, and you didn't want it to end.

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a gasp followed by a moan into the kiss, which made her even bolder.

"I'll show you how lucky those so-called by you sluts are." She whispered after pulling away from you, but not for long.

While Ellie's mouth aggresively covered yours, you felt her slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You were barely able to think now, as your adrenaline was pumping through your whole body. Your back hit the mattress, and Ellie continued to push you down as she climbed up onto the bed on top of you.

That's when it hit you.

You realized that your little feud with Ellie wasn't going to end after all, except this time you weren't fighting her.

Instead, you were just enjoying the moment with someone you could almost call a friend.

It felt like there was nothing else in the universe, just a rush of new sensations that you didn't want to end.

Ellie was the one in control now, as you felt her body pressing up against you, her lips pressing against yours, her hands moving around your body without hesitation. You weren't even thinking straight anymore, you just let her embrace you, letting her take control entirely.

You felt her break the kiss for a moment, just to whisper something in your ear. "Say it."

You knew what she wanted you to say, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Before you could answer, you felt her slowly undressing you. Her lips were tracing paths along your throat, not letting you let out a logical word from it - only little whimpers.

You felt every curve of her body as you felt her lips against your neck, every touch sending chills down your spine.

When you felt her hands move towards your pants, you felt your body respond in the only way you could.

You couldn't think of anything else but her embrace, her warm breath against your neck, and your body slowly being freed from clothing.

Ellie knew exactly how to push your buttons.

Before you could catch your breath, you were left shaking, as her hand slipped into your underwear, which was soon on the floor too. She was teasing your clit in almost painful slow way, watching you squirm.

"Speak up, babe." She whispered mockingly.

But you couldn't. Not because you didn't want, or because your ego didn't let you - you just couldn't. You even asked yourself 'What does this girl wants from me?' as you already forgotten her previous wish. You just weren't thinking straight.

"Come on, do this for me." She kept looking at you with overdramatic concern. You saw her fastening her belt and sliding of her jeans, revealing an obviously-way-too-big strap, which purple color didn't surprise you at all as you imagined it the same way in your dreams.

When you finally came back to your senses, you constructed a whole full sentence answer. But as soon as she saw you opening your mouth to speak up, she slid a few inches of her toy into your soaking cunt. Your planned reply quickly got replaced with another gasp.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She smirked, her hips started thrusting. She had some sympathy for you, so she didn't make it too painful, but she wasn't also so merciful.

You cried out, at first clenching your thighs from surprise, but she was too strong for you to actually succeed.

You leaned your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut causing a few of your pathetic tears soak into the sheets.

She held your hips, so she won't miss your sensitive spot, but her grip was so hard you swore you can already see the bruises creating right beneath her fingers.

"Honestly, I'm really happy it ended like that. You have no idea how often I'd imagine you instead of some random girl. But it's good to have you really there." She chuckled, not slowing down but not speeding up either.

Your eyes opened wide at this confession. Before today, the nicest thing she said to you was 'what's wrong?', even though it was in an obviously mocking way. And know it turns out she liked you for a long time. Just like you liked her.

"W...Wh- What?" You managed to stutter out, leaning on your elbows to look at her before your vision turned blurry again so you fell back on the pillow.

"You didn't know?" She laughed. "I mean, you were always oblivious, so I shouldn't be shocked but... I thought it was clear." She was speaking slower than usual as every single word coming from her mouth was synced with the moves of her hips. While saying this simple thing, she pushed her strap into you at least twenty times. And she wasn't taking her time, oh, no. She was fast and rough, like you're just a sex toy without feelings. Did you mind? Hmmm...

When you started getting used to the size of her cock and your mind wasn't completely blank anymore, you remembered one important thing your PE teacher said. 'Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything.' None of you were either at the gym or putting up flyers around school. They're going to think you ditched it. Even though you'd rather get into more trouble than end whatever you were doing now, you felt you need to tell Ellie, just in case.

"El-s..." You moaned out and quickly realised it won't be easy.

"What is it?" She asked, seeming honestly interested in what you got to say. "Ready to admit you're absolutely obsessed with me?"

You clenched your fists, squeezing the bed sheets between your fingers.

"Th- no... We should..." You couldn't help but cry out again.

As soon as she heard the two keywords - 'we should' (and she hated when someone was telling her what to do, so that pissed her off) - she understood what you're trying to say.

"Behave? Fulfill our duties? Or...?" She chuckled.

You wanted to speak up, just to not feel so vulnerable as you really were. You only managed to mumble 'we' before one of her hands started rubbing your clit, just like at the start - painfully slow. The feeling made your thighs tense and move closer to each other, wanting to close the gap between them. But Ellie didn't let that happen as she quickly separated your legs.

Her hips also didn't stop moving, and all the sensations connected made you go silent again. Well, not silent - unable to speak. And that were two completely different things.

"I'd take that as a 'we should continue what we're doing right now'. Isn't that what you want?" Even though you're eyes were closed, you could feel her intense stare on you. Then, her mocking tone came back. "What is it with you being so quiet all of sudden? You spent a few of the past years yelling at me, and you can't even say a word now?"

"I ju-st..." You said but then she hit your g spot again, and again, and again... making you go silent.

Your stomach started feeling funny - probably because of how deep in it Ellie's strap was. At this point, you thought you can even feel it in your throat and that's what's blocking your words from coming out. But the funny feeling had a different origin - your release was getting awfully close, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We're going to have lots of fun this month." She whispered, leaning in to stroke your cheek.

[ctimenefic]

I'm going to need everyone to go look at this picture please

Done that? Thank you. Now you may understand why I was gripped by the need to write 3k of landoscar fisting in the middle of the night. If that's your cup of tea, please enjoy!

“Mate, I thought you said you’d prepped already?”

“I have-”

“I can barely get two inside, Osc.”

Oscar had got to four. Four of his own fingers, crammed inside himself in the bathroom of his stale flat, teeth locked on the sleeve of his hoodie because Lando had leaned over in the McLaren jet and said-

Said they could try it. What Oscar wanted. What he knew Oscar wanted, because he’d fucking nicked his phone and looked at his PornHub history like a cunt.

Well. They’d done it the other way round, first. Because Lando had assumed and Oscar- Oscar didn’t know how to want out loud, like Lando did. To bitch and beg and coax his way into things and somehow come out charming at the end of it. 

It’d been fine, anyway, the other way around. Oscar had come. Lando had come, with a bit more pizzazz. Ticked off, sorted, not one for the repeat list but good to have tried it. 

Except. Lando had looked across at him, when they’d taken up strategic spots either side of the wet patch, and that lax, open face had tightened up. It was still astonishing, how much Lando’s face moved when he was thinking.

“That wasn’t how you pictured it, was it?” he’d asked, quiet. Oscar can’t remember now, which hotel it was – after all, it wasn’t a night for the scrapbook. It’d had soft lighting, the kind that made Lando look improbably handsome, even when he was curled like a speech mark towards Oscar, all his softnesses on show. 

There must’ve been some kind of tell. Oscar’s not sure what it was; wants to know, so he can train himself out of it. Practise in the mirror until it vanishes into his smile. Whatever it was, Lando had reached out and wrapped his big hand round the top of Oscar’s thigh where his bent leg kept him from toppling into the space between them. The tips of his fingers stretched far enough to graze against swell of his arse, pinky at the line of his taint. 

Oscar had shut his eyes against the noise he’d made. 

“Alright,” Lando had whispered. “Good to know.” He’d squeezed, then retreated; rolled onto his back. “Triple header soon, but after the season? When I- when we’ve won.”

So. Four weeks, and one FIA gala later: Lando whispering in his ear on the flight back from Rwanda, shirtless and slutting it up as Oscar squirmed. Getting a separate car to his fucking hotel, like he wasn’t going to hop straight back in another car to get to Oscar’s. Telling Oscar to start without him. To send pictures. 

And now he’s pussying out. 

“Osc, I’m not sure we should.” Lando’s mouth is twisted in concern, even as he slides the pads of the two fingers he’s managed to squeeze inside back and forth over Oscar’s prostate, faint and damning. “What if it’s, like, proper- nah, that’s not it. Propriat- Proportional?”

Oscar is breathing too heavily to gape at him, but it’s a near thing. The leftover lube on his hands has gone tacky, but he’s sweating; his fingers slip on the outside of his own thighs. “What?”

“You know. Like how you’re not meant to put stuff in your ears that’s smaller than your own elbow. Or, like, up your nose.” Lando puts his spare paw over where Oscar’s still holding himself open for him. His pale palm disappears entirely under Lando’s hand. 

“Do you think my arsehole is directly proportional to my hands?”

“Could be! I mean, could be anything, like George has big feet and he’s eight feet tall, and I’ve got big hands and a massive cock, and you’ve got-”

“Also a massive cock,” Oscar says, firmly, because Lando has tried humiliation kink out of the blue before, even if he can’t remember it didn’t get him fucking laid. They’re not even that different, really; it’s just the perspective, when Lando’s hand is on him, versus his on Lando. It’s what had got him thinking about it all in the first place. “That’s not how it works, we’ve got different feet and we’re the same height, you fuckwit-”

“Yeah, but maybe it does for arseholes, I can google.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, if it worked like that you’d be gaping-”

“Took all of you, didn’t I?” And he’s looking around, distracted, like he doesn’t remember dropping his phone on the sheets when he came in, a blown up picture of Oscar’s wet fingers still on the screen.

“Lando, if you fucking touch your phone,” Oscar growls. Lando makes worrying movements towards it, even though he’s still knuckle deep in Oscar’s perfectly normal-sized arse. His wrist jostles; Oscar grunts, and suddenly Lando’s frozen, eyes back to where they should be, on the spot where his fingers slip a few fractions further inside. 

“Three,” Oscar bargains. “You’ve done three before, it’ll be fine.”

Lando abandons his phone to scrabble for the lube instead. Oscar just about avoids clenching his fist in victory. Lando’s always generous with lube, hates a chafe, but now he slathers it on; when he cranes his neck to look between his knees, Oscar can see it run down his wrist, bright and shiny. 

The stretch of the third is real, past the point he’d reached on his own. Four, he’d managed, four to the second knuckle, and just the tips of three of Lando’s is more. He loses the ability to shut his mouth, has to let his head fall back to the pillow and just take. Breath through it, find the place where he can relax and still hold onto the heat of it, the way every millimetre makes his cock twitch against his stomach. 

The flare of pressure as Lando eases in his knuckles makes his eyes roll back. “Jesus, Osc. You really like it.” 

“Fucking love it,” and he means to sound flat, maybe chuck a mate on there for good measure, but he’s breathy, voice cracking. There’s a hint of dampness at the back of his throat, past the drool building under his tongue. Lando groans, high and whiny, in response; shuffles forwards, so his shoulders can help hold Oscar’s legs up and apart, give Lando room to stretch him out. 

“Lemme-” He wiggles, slightly; one finger drums on Oscar’s prostate and a thin spurt of precome stains his belly. “Just this, for a bit? And then, if you’re up for it…”

Oscar couldn’t be more up for it. But Lando’s eyes are still a little apprehensive, a little wild. Oscar can play the long game. “Sure. It’s not a sprint.” 

Lando, inexplicably, snickers. “Kinda like one though. Cause, you know. You gave it to me-” He slides his fingers out, until it’s just the tip of his middle pressed where Oscar’s body valiantly tries to close up “-and now I’ll give it to you.” Oscar’s tongue cleaves to the top of his mouth for the push back in; the noises he makes can’t strictly be called words. Lando drops a kiss to the side of Oscar’s knee, just a soft one, lips together. He gets sentimental about sprints now.

That’s why Oscar brings them up. 

The ache of the stretch eases with each steady move, in and out. Lando reaches for the lube again and Oscar almost wants to stop him, chase the burn – but he’ll never get to four without some compromises. When he can trust his voice again, he tries his best to be encouraging. “It’s good, Lando, it’s really good.”

“I know,” Lando groans, like he’s in pain, face twisted up. “Fuck, if you could see yourself, Osc, you’re fuckin’ dripping everywhere.”

It’s easy now, to bear down against Lando’s thick fingers. “More,” he pants. Rephrases. “You can- if you want-”

“Oscar.” Lando’s head drops forward, curls bouncing as he stares at Oscar’s arse. At his hole. It must look like a hole now, dark and wide. Not a furl, not a clench, or a pucker. A hole. Open. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscarrrrr.”

It works though. Another slosh of lube – not even cold now, warm from where Lando’s keeping the bottle close at hand between his knees – and that’s Lando’s pinky joining the rest, all four sliding inexorably in, all the way down past the first knuckle, the second, on and on and on.

Oscar loses his grip on his legs, but Lando keeps him splayed open with the span of his shoulders. Oscar scrabbles at the sheets instead for something to hold onto. It’s brutal, the ache. He wants to thrash. But Lando will bolt if he does. He locks his ankles together high on Lando’s back, just in case. Clamps down on the howl in his chest. 

Lando stops moving. Oscar can’t see, couldn’t lift his neck if he wanted to, training be damned, but he thinks they’ve reached the base of Lando’s fingers. The point where all he needs to do – such a little thing, really – is draw back and tuck his thumb. 

“C’mon,” Oscar- it’s not a whine. It could, perhaps fairly, be called a wheedle. He can’t quite pull off coquettish, not like Lando can when he flutters up at a camera, bites his lip. He can’t measure out his need into acceptable quantities. But it leaks out all the same. “Please, Lando. You promised.”

Lando shudders, and they both shake with it, Oscar’s body rolling like an aftershock. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.” He looks up, right at Oscar, and the fear hasn’t gone, but there’s something else there now, wildness abandoned for a softer, darker look. Oscar’s heart kicks in his chest. There’s saliva running down the side of Lando’s chin and then he bows his head again and spits a mouthful, frothy and white, onto Oscar’s arsehole. 

Oscar shouts, “Jesus fucking Christ” and quite possibly some other words his neighbours won’t appreciate, and when he’s got a grip on the situation again, Lando’s panting nonsense words against the inside of his leg, and the stretch is back, the stretch is good, and it must be- he must have- It’s so slow, but Oscar thinks he can feel it, pressed up against the others but oriented differently. Lando’s thumb. 

Lando rocks his way in, tiny shifts, back and forth. Past the first knuckle. The second. Down to the widest span of his hand. The palm that has sat heavy on Oscar’s shoulders, at the centre of his chest, on his throat. 

Just a bit more, and it’ll be inside him. 

And then Lando looks up and stops pushing. “Fuck. Osc. Are you- shit, I’ll.” He starts drawing back, careful but still too fast, Oscar’s body making sucking, needy noises around him.

In a panic, Oscar shakes his head. Not a neat side to side, but rolling his neck like a spooked horse, wild with it. Begs. “Don’t, Lando, please-” It comes out wet and squeaky and- Oh. He’s crying. That’s new. The kind of thing he might be embarrassed by, if he didn’t need Lando’s fist inside him with an urgency that borders on lunacy. “Please. I’m okay. I- Please.”

“Tell me you need it.” Lando’s hoarse with it, dark eyed. His free hand is shaking, but the fingertips still inside Oscar are rock steady. “Tell me it’s good.”

Oscar gulps for air. Beneath the howl in his chest there’s a twittering, fluttering panic. It’s too visible, his need. If he takes it all, he’ll be seen. Won’t be able to hide. 

“Yes,” he offers. There are still tears sliding down the sides of his face. It’s not enough for Lando’s sudden solemnity. Oscar breathes against a sob. “It’s good. I want it. I need you.”

A sharp gasp. Lando presses forward again, eyes locked on Oscar’s face. In and in and in. And Oscar takes it.

The first time, the other way around, Oscar hadn’t been able to watch when his fist disappeared. He’d felt disconnected from it; like it wasn’t a part of his body, inside a part of Lando’s. Like it was a toy. He’d been gloved up almost to his elbow, because Lando’s latex fetish was as poorly disguised as all his other cravings, but that hadn’t been why. Lando had still been hot and tight and impossibly delicate around him. He’d still been able to feel.

But Oscar had done so much work to hide his petty jealousies. To make sure he made it good. Tutorials and magazine articles and advice forums, and watching Lando charm a room with half a smile and remembering he was lucky, he was so lucky, to get this close to what he really wanted. So perhaps he hadn’t let himself get carried away in the prep, in the build; perhaps he’d let Lando carry the conversation, goading and filthy and a little bit cliché, as he got to the point. To the fist. 

And then, when he was sure he was doing it right, he’d instead been caught by the way Lando’s back had twisted, how his shoulders shook, all the strength of him pushing him down like he needed downforce to stay on the bed. He’d had the pillow between his teeth, getting it wet. Sloppy. The shine of it, of his chin, when he’d turned his head, had been the thing to rouse Oscar’s flagging dick. 

Lando had asked, then, for Oscar to touch him. Said he’d needed more. Not that it wasn’t good, mind you, he’d stressed that, said it was so fucking hot, being on Oscar’s hand like a fucking puppet. But. A touch. Something on his dick. Because it wasn’t enough for Lando, to be filled. Not with Oscar’s dainty hand. 

It’s enough for Oscar now. He howls. Clenches down on Lando’s broad wrist. He can hear it, the squeeze against skin and Lando’s insane application of lube. Every throb of his heart, every pulse in every artery seems to fall into time with the tiny movements of Lando’s fist. Inside him and through him and with him and all of him. He’s never been owned like this. Wanted enough for this. 

When he glances down, away from the ceiling, Lando looks like he’s been fucking raptured. “Oscar, shit, that’s insane, you’re- I can’t believe-” He sniffs, just once, but obvious enough Oscar has to crack a soppy wet smile at him; gets a lopsided gleam of teeth in return. “You really fucking like this,” Lando tells him, like it’s a secret. Then: “I really fucking like this too.”

When he twists his hand, his whole fucking hand, just slightly, Oscar’s orgasm hits like a thunderclap. Lando groans through it, so loud it’s like he’s been wounded; Oscar blinks up at him, worry surfacing between aftershocks, but Lando shakes his head, his free hand pressing soothingly to the back of Oscar’s thigh. Which. Fuck. When the power of speech returns, what might be a full minute later, Oscar has to chuckle. “Imagine telling Zak I broke your hand.”

Lando swats at him. “Don’t talk about Zak when I’m about to fucking cum all over you, Christ. Fuck, you look-”

A mess, he looks a mess, cum up to his neck, his face wet with sweat and tears and spit. But it must work for Lando, because he starts working his dick with his off hand, short fast tugs, not even stopping for lube.

“In me,” Oscar hears himself begging. “Inside, please.”

“It will not fucking fit!”

It’s hard to get his tongue working round the size of the thought, the way it presses at the inside of his mouth, his ribs. “No, just- pull out and I’ll. I’ll still be open. You don’t have to fuck me, just- aim.”

“Oh, fucking hell, Oscar.” But Lando does start drawing back. He’s slow about it, watching for every shiver. It’s almost better for Oscar, coming out, oversensitive, the long drag past every nerve ending and aching muscle. If he can’t keep Lando inside for hours – for ever – this will do, this shared shaking moment. Lando’s grip on his own dick has stilled, so tight it’s like he’s staving off the inevitable; like the sight of his own hand coming out of Oscar could be enough to send him over. 

There’s a final squelch of lube, and Oscar thought he’d feel empty, hollow, but his blood’s still singing with it, happy and sated. Now it’s Lando who looks desperate.

“Clench,” he orders. Begs. Oscar tries. He can feel it, where he’s still open. Cold. Lando moans, and then he’s stripping his dick, first with his left and then – Oscar’s whole body tightens and it’s still not enough to close up, but Christ – Lando switches hands, switches to the hand he had inside Oscar, hot and slick and massive, presses in close and comes, hot and shivering, against Oscar’s hole. 

Oscar catches him, when he slumps forward. There’s enough coordination back in his body that he can roll them out of the wet patch. The right side of the bed – Oscar’s side, usually – is largely unsullied. He curls them both up there, bodies aligned. Lando’s dopey with the afterglow, keeps trying to run his lubed up fingers through Oscar’s hair, letting out high, contented giggles. Oscar’s pretty sure his own smile looks loopy.

“More like you imagined it?” Lando asks, eventually. There’s a smugness to it, like he knows the answer. Oscar indulges him anyway. 

“Yeah.”

“Mint. You should- if you have any more ideas like that. Say. Cause we’re doing that again.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Uh huh?”

“Obviously, not like, all the time. But special occasions. Championships. And- I don’t know, other shit.”

Championships, plural, sounds good. So do special occasions. He wants that, with Lando. Things to celebrate. Dates to remember. 

He’ll find a way to say it, eventually. “And other shit,” he hums, for now. 

[me-loving-woso]

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world. 

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy. 

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

—

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week. 

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.” 

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing. 

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you. 

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-" 

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

—

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work. 

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours. 

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly. 

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment. 

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly. 

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously. 

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.” 

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her. 

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination. 

[elodieunderglass]

I'm not as familiar with LOTR as you are, so I wondered if you could tell me if my wild theory is completely off-base.

No one knows where the Hobbits came from, except that at some point they diverged from the line of men. No one knows much about the Entwives' appearance, but we do know that they fucked off a long time ago.

Could the Entwives have been dryad-ish and hooked up with the hobbits' ancestors and so be the foremothers of the hobbits?

Ah I think I saw that post! The concept has a lot of charm, and when the Tolkien estate loses its corpse-grip on the property in 2050 or so, I think you should write it and sell it 😤 I’ve definitely read some good takes on entwives in fanfiction that both leaned into canon and moved away, and I think that sounds like good fun to explore. A common theme in the fandom is playing with Yavanna, the Green Lady, being the mother or patron of hobbits. This isn’t canonical, but she’s a “green goddess” archetype and is married to Mahal/Aulë, the father of dwarves, which shippers often leverage to their advantage. You could do something quite charming there with Yavanna if you wanted to. We also know that Entwives loved gardens and orchards rather than forests.

Some things I would explore with this include:

what is going on with all these consistent ideas of people, races, women disappearing. We know that a lot of it is how Tolkien processed an almost OCD-like Catholic framing of “the fallen world is getting worse and can never be repaired”, war experiences, romanticism and other stuff stewing in his old man head. What are some ways you could show what’s stewing in your head? What does “people disappearing” mean to you? and why is it especially healing that they disappeared in order to make new families?

I think “they disappeared from their old kin and made new kin” is an interesting and weird thing worth wondering about!

- this would possibly make hobbits a more recent race than is implied. What does that mean to you?

- why are hobbits teeny tiny?

A very good starting point, that Terry Pratchett used a lot, is taking some grand statement in fantasy fiction, and making it reflect a different political reality. “Most dwarves are girls actually.” “Wizards parody academia, but, like, FOR REAL.”

I personally have a different take because of my own political feelings and framings! I have a lot of complex feelings about Tolkien chickening out of hobbits. For various political reasons I personally have to take the stance that they are fully human, fully indigenous, and have their own native language. and that their disappearance is less “teehee we lost them” or “O, the Catholic guilt of the Fallen World, how far we have fallen from the light of the two trees God’s sinless light” and a lot more “oh yeah I’ve seen THAT pattern before.”

If you have a political sort of lens on, someone telling you “yeah… hobbits came from nowhere 🤭 and then disappeared 🤷‍♀️ sad!” is a story that can also invite the response of “OHhhhh you wanted their LAND real bad, huh.” Like, we know what that means, right.

It’s a political stance for me. Hobbits have to be close enough to us to touch, and we have to be able to face that, and the fact that 5,000 media properties will chew on tolkienelves and sell them to you before even admitting to the 🤭 just makes it even more of a 🤨. To me.

…But I have literally just been elbow deep in my own demented fanfic thing that involves inventing a language just to swear in, to enable my standing on a box shouting HOBBITS OUGHT TO RESIST GOING EXTINCT ACTUALLY, based entirely on, I think, spite. Why do multiple authors publish orc football games (Terry Pratchett) and orc coffeeshops (Legends and Lattes guy) and do every damned thing with every bit of Tolkien’s corpse but refuse to look directly at hobbits. I am feral over this and wrote 59k words so far to damage and harm my friends

In conclusion I see a great story shape there about kindred and I think you should explore it and it should be about evolutionary biology and women and divorce and nobody being wrong.

And if anyone argues you with some podcast boy “well actually”, just bite them and do more character work and sit on their heads

[mr2swap]

Late Christmas gift

I looked at the kitchen clock again, “6:36PM” It had only been 2 minutes since I last looked, after that I looked at the phone just to confirm that the time was correct, Maybe Grandpa Greg's flight had missed. Delayed? We hadn't seen each other, I placed my grandfather's glasses over my eyes, which I had easily gotten used to always having at my side.

I hated these stupid glasses, Grandpa's eyes work as much as his tiny, wrinkled cock, it's been over a year since me and Grandpa swapped bodies, I'd forgotten to buy a damn gift for Grandpa Greg, I didn't even know he liked me. To old people before I became one... I should have given him a foot massager. This huge belly makes my feet so tired that I prefer not to move from the couch for hours.

Anyway, I didn't have a gift, so I just wrote on a piece of paper “Valid for any gift.” How the hell was I supposed to know that what I wanted for Christmas was to be young again?”

The day after Christmas we simply woke up in each other's bodies and the worst thing of all is that we can't say anything about this ridiculous body swapping! Every time I try to tell my parents or one of my friends that I'm trapped in my grandfather Greg's obese, disgusting decrepit body, those thoughts just disappear from my mind and I start talking like I'm a 60-year-old old man. The last time I tried to tell my ex-girlfriend Stephanie, I “woke up” at the racetrack showing off my enormous stomach with a pipe in my lips and several empty beer cans around me.

But all this would end soon... or at least it was supposed to. We had tried everything to swap again, we even watched a long marathon of body swap movies to try various methods, but nothing worked... the only solution was to try to recreate what caused this problem in the first place, I just had to give him the same gift, and he would write “my body back” or something like that.

My family was preparing for dinner when suddenly a sound that came from my cell phone made me put the beer I was drinking on my huge belly.

“I'm sorry kid, but I didn't know how to tell you in person, I decided to leave things as they are for a while, I still have things to do with your body, but don't worry I'll be back for the new year... maybe, I just met a guy incredible on the beach and I wouldn't want to ruin it”

Hey guys! happy holidays!

This is a little story I wrote last year for my Ko-Fi page, thank you all so much for another wonderful year, if you like bodyswap and stories you can support me on my Ko-fi page to access my archive of over 250 bodyswap stories, from my old patreon and discord…

oh! And join my discord server, if you like RP or if you have any ideas that you would like me to write in a future story, I'm taking suggestions for ideas and images.

[stealingyourbones]

I don't really get the people who think reading the comics is such a radical idea. Don't they want to learn more about them? aren't they curious what makes them tick? what insane adventures they went on? what fears they have? what makes them laugh and smile? I'm from europe so I haven't seen any of the DC shows I see mentioned every once in a while (which means I really don't get the whole Clark hates clones thing... but that's a different thing) and it's only been this year that I have enough disposable income to splurge on comics, aka I haven't read that many just yet.

But I do think the ones I have read enhance the stories I'm trying to tell, which to me is a good reason to read them ;p but besides that, they are fun! they are just really fun to read

I’m glad you’re having fun reading comics man! It’s a shame that folks don’t read them as much but you know, I can understand it. I both asked some folks in the Haunting Heroes discord server and have some of my own points to make about this.

First of all I do still believe that you should consume some form of DC media if you’re in the fandom. It’s fun and there are comics, books, movies, tv shows, and every other form of medium known to man that you can take a peek at! Idk I’m just a bit DC enjoyer and think that looking at canon media to expand on your knowledge and help create ideas you wouldn’t have had if you hadn’t looked at said piece of media.

Now onto why reading comic books is hard:

Some folks simply prefer the fandom and not the official DC content. Whether they prefer fanon, find fics more accessible, or like the people in the fandom, they’d rather just stick to the fandom.

They simply don’t know where to start. Getting into comics can be INCREDIBLY overwhelming ( DC has done their best to fix this and has messed up more than once. My go to is to reccomend folks just start reading New 52 comic runs as it’s really good for new readers to jump into the comics with any hero that might intrigue them). Big comic events span multiple comic story runs and not a cohesive line of comics, some omnibuses for stories are out of print, the 80+ years of comics are daunting as hell, and everyone has their own opinion on the best versions of a character/where to start/what to read.

Money. Comics are an expensive hobby to have. They may cost $1-$5 each on average but that price adds up over time. I have a comic collection of roughly 1,300 comics. I’d estimate its value very roughly around the $7,800 range. It’s probably far more than that though and I know damn well reselling it I won’t get half of that value back. I’m very fortunate to be a college student with disposable income and for this hobby to be the only thing I ever really spend money on besides rent and food. Some people either can’t afford them or don’t want to buy a comic they don’t know if it’s good or not.

Varying quality. Comics are a very mixed bag thing where they can be incredibly written or some of the worst pieces of media you’ve ever read. With this being the case, it can be really hard to find a comic character or writer you like if that’s your first experience. It takes a while to learn about different writers and find out who your favorite writers are. What’s harder is some writers can make absolute masterpieces with one character and the next comic run they cover it can be absolute garbage. Not only that, everyone has opinions on what is a good comic run or not. It’s impossible to find a repeatedly stated and easily accessible list on the good comics to read.

Pretentious “Canon is God” fans. Experiencing “um actually this isn’t good because this isn’t how the canon character would act” responses from people can really fucking suck and diminish their want to experience anything that’s official DC writing. I’ve seen more than one person go into this primarily fanon focused space and insult people saying their writing isn’t canonical and therefore it isn’t valid. It’s Uber Pretentious, demeaning, and actively harms peoples interests in checking out canon content.

Timelines. I already kind of said it but DC’s timelines are a mess. hell, even New 52 has some fucked up timelines making all of Batman’s previous timelines canon but happen only within a seven year period. That’s WAY too short for how much history is packed in there. The amount of crisises that happen and fully change the lore and timelines of characters is bonkers, the comic runs that bounce between different comic runs are really confusing, and the fact that there isn’t a True Starting Point for reading makes it so hard to grasp anything that’s happening. It’s one of comics biggest issues and no matter what DC has done they have yet to find a convenient solution.

Sensitive Content. Comics from DC are littered with either intentional, badly aged, or ignorantly written plot points and writing choices that will turn away readers. DC has its fair share of sexism, misogyny, abelism, racism, abuse, sexual harassment, sexual assaults, or topics casually addressed that can be very triggering for some people. Especially since a large amount of that sort of content is handled incredibly poorly. One particular writer, Alan Moore, writes sexual assault scenes with absolutely zero tact or the delicateness that a topic such as that should be held in. It’s almost solely used as a “let’s make the bad guy do the most fucked up thing they could do” throwaway plot point. Comics of the sort dissuade a lot of readers because of both the heavy content within comics and how that content can be incredibly poorly handled. This is partially why some folks would prefer to read fics. Comics are a unknown mixed grab bag when it comes to content like this and things exactly like this is known to make PTSD symptoms worse while fics have tags and can warn you before you consume the content within.

Time. A lot of folks have busy lives and just don’t have the time to read them.

The ways they intake media. Some folks might have a better time watching a long commentary video that explains a comic or their brain can’t process the comic medium very well. I can read and retain comic knowledge but even I am unique in this aspect, my memory is frightening levels of bad and is proven by science to be absolute shit. I have to reread comics at least once a month to retain the basic bare bones plot. Just because one person can easily digest what’s going on in a comic doesn’t mean everyone can.

Comics are such a big part of my life. I love them so much and they’ve gotten me through so many things. My own experience with comics isn’t the same for others and my thoughts on reading comics differs with other people. A lot of people have equally as many reasons for why they don’t read comics as you and I have for reading them.

[seancekitsch]

Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.