#make no mistake he WILL be on his knees begging for her to come back in a couple months

[casino-lights]

meet the new contenders for treviso's messiest couple

[annwrites]

⸻ a call to arms. part one. ⸻

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: desperate to provide aid to your starving family due to the blockade, you venture, along with a great many other lowborns, to dragonstone, in hopes of gaining something—anything—which you might bring back to them; something to fill your little sister's belly. things turn out quite the opposite as planned, as what you now believe to be a mad queen, locks all of you in her dragonpit, and you're forced to run, hide, & fend for your lives against two hungry dragons. in the end, only two individuals are left standing: hugh hammer, who has now claimed for himself vermithor...and you—chosen by silverwing. just when you believe things can't possibly get any worse, you then meet prince jacaerys. · word count: 1,674

He grinds his teeth together, filled with utter contempt—disgust—that whatever you are—bastards, lowborns, flea-ridden rats—are now, above all else, dragonriders.

And he is meant to share common spaces with you now? Such as the Great Hall? Meant to pass you in the halls and tolerate the sight of you?

To ride alongside you?

To treat you with...what? Kindness? Generosity for having 'come to his mother's aid'? He will most certainly not be treating, nor addressing you as an equal. Either of you.

To be a dragonrider...it is a sacred bond. And now he is meant to believe that even the lowest scum Flea Bottom has to offer has the same right as he to sail the skies, unleashing fire and blood upon the enemy?

Never.

He will never.

The rest of them got what they deserved for thinking they had any right to claim that which is meant only for those like him.

Queens and kings, princes and princesses, lords and ladies alike.

He is better than both of you.

Even if he is similar in ways he does not want to admit...

Boots echo against stone floors, dark curls falling over dark eyes, a brooding temperament within.

Jacaerys emerges into the Great Hall, Hugh promptly rising from his seat, bowing his head. "My Prince."

Jacaerys studies him for but a moment, briefly judging the plain-colored clothes he dons, before turning his sights across the room to you, who is seated between two stained-glass windows, arms wrapped around your bent knees, while you cast your attentions outward, instead of on him.

Your Prince.

Your superior.

He clenches his jaw at the sight of your long, silver hair that moonlight casts in an ethereal glow, making it appear as if it is sparkling. Cascading down your back like molten silver in soft waves.

"You there—girl—do you know how incredibly rude it is for you not to stand and curtsy when in the presence of royalty?"

You jolt—torn from tormented memories of but a couple days past; of people running, screaming for mercy. Dying choking on their own blood as dragonfire burns them alive.

None of you had anticipated—had imagined—that the very queen you were coming to, under the guise of offering your aid to in the war, would lock you in a room to be eaten by terrifying beasts.

Aegon deserves the throne in comparison to such a monster.

You have made a great mistake, mayhaps. Then again, becoming a dragonrider has already filled your belly, provided you with clean sheets to sleep upon, a guard outside your door, hot baths.

But it is not you who needs these things. You want them for your family.

There is no turning back now, however. You knew as much with certainty when that silver dragon laid her head at your feet before leaning forward, brushing her warm snout against your abdomen while you struggled to contain your bladder and bowels. While you sobbed hysterically, begging for mercy from a being that you do not so much as share a common language with.

You know not a word of High Valyrian, though you will now be expected to learn, you suppose.

Among many other things. Such as how to ride the animal...

Your stomach twists nervously at the thought.

You turn away from the window, slide off the ledge, then grab your skirts in either of your hands before tucking a foot behind your other ankle, bowing. "My Prince."

He scoffs, coming closer. "That was the worst curtsy I've ever seen."

You fold your hands in front of you, keeping your eyes downcast. "Forgive me, My Prince, it is...the first time I've attempted one."

He rolls his eyes, settling his arms behind his back before glancing over his shoulder to Hugh, jerking his head toward the hall he's just come from, and he quickly makes himself scarce.

He looks back to you.

"And what is your name?" He demands.

"Y/N," you state quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You are to look at me while we're speaking. Do you understand?"

You nod, trailing your eyes upwards—over a red-and-black velvet tunic, the three-headed symbol of his house embroidered upon the breast—until they're looking into hues of chocolate-brown.

He clenches his hands into tight fists behind his back.

You've every trademark of a pure Targaryen: silver hair, lilac eyes—with flecks of violet—skin so fair it's near-translucent, delicate features.

He fucking loathes you for every asset which you possess and he does not.

He would never—will never—state it aloud, but you look far more Targaryen than he ever will.

He wishes one of the dragons had taken you down its gullet as well. That way, he would not be forced to suffer the nigh-daily sight of you now.

He looks you over, circling you like a dragon does its prey—desperate to find something he may use to mock you with; some imperfection—before standing tall before you again.

"You think wearing rags before your Queen's court appropriate?"

Your expression quickly settles into a scowl.

Good, he thinks. Give him an excuse to introduce you to the Queen's justice. He is silently begging you for as much within his malice-filled gaze.

Your small hands clench into fists at your slender sides. "My mother made this dress for me."

His jaw ticks. "From now on, you will wear more suitable clothing when outside your private chambers—which means conservative in nature; not whatever men found desirable upon the Street of Silk. You are a representative of our house now. A dragonrider. A soldier to our cause. You will look the part."

Tears sting your eyes as yours bore into his own hatefully.

"I am not a whore," you reply contemptuously.

There is a beat of silence, his brows furrowing slightly. Surely you are lying. You have the look—more than.

And then you continue.

"And with what coin, My Prince?" You sneer.

He takes a step closer, causing you to shuffle backward, catching yourself against the window-ledge, the stone digging into your palms as you grip it to steady yourself.

He leans in close—your faces mere inches apart. "I beg your pardon?"

You do not shrink away from him.

Gods, you already hate him with all that you are.

"I came here for coin. Desperate for—"

"So greed is what sent you? Not to aid us in winning back my mother's throne? Her rightful seat. You come to steal away a dragon, and then what?"

"My family is starving!" You finally shout, at the end of your rope from the last few sleepless nights that've been filled with nightmares instead of rest; your temper having reached its limit. "My mother and little sister both! How would you feel if it were you? If your loved-ones were suffering, while all you could do is sit back and watch them waste away before you? So, yes, I came. I claimed a dragon—even if my intentions had only been merely to host audience with a clement queen who would provide aid to her suffering subjects. Not burn them alive for coming to help her!"

He grits his teeth. "You will watch your tongue, you insolent little wench. My mother sent boat-fulls of food to King's Landing. She has provided—"

You begin to laugh, with a lack of humor behind it all, cutting him off. "Oh, yes, how very kind of her to give aid to the very subjects she is responsible for the suffering of in the first place. The blockade is all your all's fault! People were fighting like dogs in the streets—assaulting—killing each other for a small sack of grain! I risked mine own life for a peck of potatoes! That's it! Even then, I was forced to wrestle a full-grown man off myself to get it. I was fortunate to escape with my life—with any food to speak of for my struggles!"

You step forward, forcing his royal highness to take a step back, and he swallows thickly.

"You've never known hunger a day in your life, have you? Never known what is it to wear 'rags' while you don your silk and velvet, while you sleep on thousand-thread count sheets, while you flout your jewels, and your fancy titles, and your gilded castles while the rest of us bow and scrape before your feet for a mere morsel of respect! You are meant to take care of us!"

Once you've finished, your heart pounds in your ears, your shoulders rapidly rise and fall, and it's then that you notice Prince Jacaerys' hand is tightly gripping the pommel of his sword—his knuckles having now gone white from the force.

Your eyes flit back to his, tears filling your own. "And I am meant to one day call you king, given we are 'successful' in our endeavors to win your mother back her glorified chair," you say, spitting the final word at him.

The two of you stand tall before the other, refusing to be the first one to break—your chins held high, even if your stomach is now twisting painfully into knots while your bowels turn to water.

If he puts you to death for your unimaginable disobedience—your disrespect...who will help your family then?

Your little sister... Your little girl.

She became as much when your mother went away in herself after your father's passing. It did not matter that you were still a mere child yourself when it happened. She became your responsibility to look after and tend to from that day forward.

And now...you feel as if you have failed her.

"Go to your room," he orders lowly, his body shaking from anger, brief pauses between each word.

You curtsy one last time.

"My Prince," you mumble, brushing past him, wanting to break something.

He stalks off in the opposite direction, feeling much the same: wanting to burn something—or, rather, someone—alive.

[satowooo]

i. imgonnagetyouback

The one and only son of the Gojo clan had fallen quite hard, completely and utterly, to a lowly woman who came from the dirt, and got his heart broken by her. Years had passed, he was still as angry since the day you left, but he only wanted you back.

contents. modern au, gojo satoru x reader, angst, not proofread.

Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back

next chapter

It was pathetic. The sight of Gojo Satoru, a well-respected son of the Gojo clan, was down on his knees right in front of you, begging you to stay, a daughter of a mere servant.

It made him look pitiful and weak, a miserable prince who had his heart shattered by a low class woman like you. But he didn't really give it that much of a thought, ever since he first laid eyes on you. He didn't care what people might've said from the very first time, and he proved it to you a million times as he stubbornly and desperately showed you how much he loves and adores you. So, begging down on his knees is not that much of a deal now, no?

“Stand up, please.”

But you were firm, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. You hated seeing him like this, but you were left with no other choice. Your love for him could risk even the dangers of your life, and you were sacrificing him to save him.

“I do not wish to be with you any longer, Young Master.” You said, uttering his title in a whisper. “What we had was wrong. It was a mistake on my side. And I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a pathetic infatuation and I realised that another man best suits me, and it's not you.”

Your words were nonstop, every single thing that you uttered was shattering his heart into pieces. But Satoru furiously shakes his head, his hands trembling on your lap as his forehead falls on your knees.

“T-that’s not… T-that's not true…”

You remembered everything from that day. Every little detail, every word, every touch, every action, of what had happened stayed forever in your mind. It never fails to shatter you. To make you cry every single time that you thought about him as you lie in the confinements of your small room.

“I have done what you asked for. What else do I need to do–” A whimper escaped your lips as a hand flew over your cheek. Breathing heavily, you felt the sting on your skin as you looked back at the person who had been the cause of your pain.

“Pack your things, and never show your face again.”

Gojo Satoru haunted your dreams and nightmares. He managed his way in your heart, and refused to leave. He was the ghost of your tragic love story, you could only wish that you never should've picked up the pen. It's already been two years since you left, and even until now, your heart only beats for one man and it will always be for Satoru.

So what are you going to do when he comes up at your door, claiming what used to be his?

It all happened so fast that your head can't fathom how you ended back to the place of your nightmares. The Gojo clan's mansion. The place where it all started between the two of you.

Every corner of this place was filled with memories of you and Satoru, all the good and bad. But what you remembered most was the torture, the consequences you had faced for falling in love. You felt like all your scars were slowly tearing apart, opening the wound that was almost healed as you looked back to the man who stood in front of you.

You never should've been back in this place.

“I expect you to work immediately.” Satoru's voice was different. It was laced with authority and demand, not the sweet ones that you remember back when he was yours. “Remember, your family is in the palm of my hands. Try to escape, and you'll face the consequences.”

His eyes looked at you with anger, a pent up emotion that he bottled up all these years. His hands were balled on a fist by his sides, almost trembling, but he wouldn't let you see just how much you still have an effect on him.

Right now, all he feels is anger and hatred for what you did. For leaving him. For running off with another man. For loving him only to break his heart. For letting him hold on to your empty promises.

For those two years, he only loathed you and he's not going to be a forgiving man, he'll make sure you regret. He'll make you beg on his knees, the way he did for you.

“I expect you to be in my office in five.”

Now, you're back to square one. Working as his maid was already bad enough back then, so what's going to happen now that you're back to serve him again?

You can't help but notice how much he changed. Somehow, you can tell that he was still the same, only that he was only mad at you. It was obvious already how he's showing indifference only to you but not to anyone else. His bubbly personality that used to welcome you with warm embraces is now replaced with an angry demeanour of a man who cold-heartedly took you away from your family and took you back to the house where you suffered.

How unfair.

This was not your Satoru.

As soon as Satoru turned around and left you standing, he heaved out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart felt like it was trying to escape from his chest. For the first time since you left, he finally felt his heart beating again.

All throughout those years that you were gone, he relentlessly looked for you. Trying to search your face in unfamiliar places, sometimes getting himself into trouble when he mistakes someone for you. Everyday, he was turning angrier and angrier when you never showed up, while all he needed was proper answers and explanations. He hated all the memory that you had left, and how it tore him to pieces that all of it was just a lie.

He couldn't believe you had the nerve. A woman like you with no name for herself, telling him that a relationship with him was just a mistake as you sought another man. Gojo Satoru was everything anyone could have asked for, so how dare a woman like you? How dare a woman he loved…

Everything comes crashing down into his mind once again. From the first time he saw you and how you've caught his eye. His heart starts to beat frantically, his breath caught into his chest, his tongue tied together. Satoru slumps into his chair as he closes his eyes, letting the memory sink in.

“Who is that woman?” Satoru asked an older servant, seeing your unfamiliar face walking around the garden in a maid uniform as he stared down at you from his window.

“That's [M/L/N]’s daughter. She's here to take her place while her mother is recovering.” The servant answered as she poured him tea.

Satoru watched as you walked quietly, your movements looked calculated and careful. He watched your finger touch a ragged cloth, gracefully cleaning the dirty tables.

From afar, he can see how your skin looked soft and pale. You were a bit thin and looked weak. He can only assume that he could break you with one twist.

Your face didn't have any emotion in it which intrigued him. Even your lips were downturned, like you hated every second of working in his place. You caught his attention in a matter of seconds, a curiosity growing inside him while he watched your every move.

He noticed the way your mood changed when his family's dog, a small golden retriever, came running to you. A smile formed into your face and he swore he could feel all the flowers blooming all around the place. Everything seemed to have lighted up, his heart began to drum in his chest as you kneeled down to the dog, petting and rubbing the cute animal between your hands.

What's so fascinating about you?

He swallowed hard. Satoru felt like a teenage boy realising that he was staring a little too hard. He felt like a stalker for watching you, shivering at his thoughts.

But he wanted to meet you. Something was pulling him to be close to your presence. A magnetic force was drawing him to come near, and it was the very first time that he ever felt like this.

But he'll take his time first. For now, he's going to settle on just watching you from afar, memorising every detail of you, until he is ready.

A knock on the door woke Satoru back to his senses. He straightened up on his seat, erasing the memories out of his head as he coughed. “Come in.”

But how can Satoru completely forget?

You walked inside in your maid uniform, the same dress that you used to wear, and it only took Satoru a matter of seconds for all your pasts to remind him of how much he loved you. He felt a pain in his chest, and for a moment, he wanted to fall back on his knees and beg for you to love him again. But even you had changed.

Satoru was also back to square one. He looks at you, reminded of the first time he had seen your face. The lack of emotion, the frown, the gaze that used to intimidate him, and the wall you had built between the two of you was palpable.

“Take a seat.” Satoru gestured over the chair in front of his table.

He watched you carefully as you stepped inside his office, striding forward with a sense of hurry as you obviously refused to seat. You stood in front of him, an emotion in your eyes that he can't seem to read.

“I have to get back to my family–”

“They are fine.” Satoru immediately cut you off, his voice ringing over your ear. He looked at you with a glare, venom laced in his voice as he says, “You are bound to stay here, as I said so–”

“You can't keep me here!”

Your scream shocked the both of you, but Satoru kept a straight face as he stood up slowly. He chuckled with malice, staring at your helpless state.

“What makes you say that I can't?” He smirked. “I own you now. Every single thing that's yours is also mine, even your family.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, your hands trembling at your side. Your knees felt weak underneath his gaze, burning and crushing your soul.

Everything he said was true. You were in so much debt ever since you left the Gojo mansion, your family almost falling apart if he didn't show up to take you. And now he's claiming every single bit of what's yours, not leaving a single piece behind.

Satoru made it clear when he took you here. He'll pay for everything to save you and your family. Your mother's hospital bill, your father's gambling debts, your brother's education, their food, house, electricity, and all their livings, because you couldn't pay them off by yourself.

So now you're trapped. He's got you wrapped around his fingers.

“You need me, Y/N.” You closed your eyes at his voice, shaking your head in denial. “You can't afford to live without me, and that's the truth.”

It was the truth, Satoru taking her away from her old life.

You were doing just fine when he was gone. But now you don't know anymore.

this is the part 1 of my mini (?) gojo series! i hope you'd like it and anticipate for what's next to come 🥺🫶🏻 [M/L/N] also stand for "mother's last name" in case you didn't knowww ^.^ I also hoped you understood the flashbacks and such.

this is just a prologue of the main story, sooo the real story starts at part 2.

[mayullla]

Title: A Promise to a Red Rose

Character(s): Fairy King Oberon ( Original work)

Summary: The queen had made a deal with a rose that if she were to have a son her son would become a wise ruler but if she had a daughter she would offer the girl to the Fairy King. Warnings/tags: Yandere! Fairy King x Princess! Reader, Kidnapped, manipulations, power imbalance, drugging, dumbification (reader), forced intimacy, noncon body transformation, 3.3k words (please tell me if I missed anything!)

In a kingdom, there was once a king and a queen. Both were in love, so in love with each other that the people had created a song in the kingdom that many bards and kids sang. The affection that the king had towards his queen could rival the highest mountains while the queen's affections could rival the skies. The song was something that made both the king and queen proud of what they had.

It was only a pity that none could have it all… Fame, money and love they had all of it but only one. The queen was unable to conceive a child, an heir for the future of the kingdom, a child with her beloved. While many pitied the queen, many also had to push the king to find another lover for an heir.

The king was furious at such words warning that they were currently making a grave mistake that cost them their lives, yet for the queen who had heard those words could not help but weep in tears as she knew that the king still needed an heir. Heartbroken, she prayed to the fairies day and night, the window in her room open as she looked at the moon and stars or bright skies, not eating or sleeping as she begged the fay to give her a child.

One day in the darkness of night in her lonesome room she heard voices. Small voices that sounded like the jingles of bells and childish laughter. The voices asked why she was crying.

"Oh queen, why are you here? Why have you gotten on your knees? Why are your clothes that you wore damp and wet? And why does your face show sorrow and pain?" The voices asked.

The queen opened her eyes and saw fairies fluttering around her. Small children the size of roses that grew on her windowsill. "Oh queen, why are you so sad that you cry your heart out? Do you not have everything you ever wanted?"

"I am sad because I can't have a child." The queen replied to the fairies. "The king needs an heir yet I could not bore him a son. That is why I am sad because it is the duty of the queen to give the kingdom its heir.."

The fairies listened to the queen's cries and talked among themselves right after. The fairies then flew towards the balcony and made a red rose bud bloom far more beautiful than any rose that the queen had ever seen. The rose is bright red even in the darkness of night with faint glows and shimmers.

"Why have you been crying your heart out? What had pained you that you would not eat for 3 days and 3 nights." The rose asked and the queen explained once again why she was weeping.

"I wish to bore a son for the king. For only then I will be happy once again." The queen told the rose. The rose listened to the queen's story.

"I understand." The rose said, "I will grant your wish but it comes with a cost. A price that you must give."

"What is it that you want?" The queen asked, "Is it gold that you want? Is it jewels that you are looking for? I shall give you mines that store diamonds and emeralds within them for a child of my blood."

“It is not crystals that I am looking for but a life that I want. I shall grant you a life but in return, I wish for the same.” The rose spoke, declining the jewels and money that the queen would. What it wanted was a life. The queen was puzzled by the rose words for she didn't understand what the rose wanted.

"Eat this red rose and then go back to the king. Later when you give birth to a child if it is a boy he would become a king that is loyal and wise. The people would love him and he would rule the kingdom for a long time." The rose told her but it also said, "But if you bore a girl, she would be beautiful and lovely just like the first blooming roses in spring. But when she comes of age she will be taken away by me and she will become the Fairy King's wife."

The queen took the rose and ate it and then hurried back to the king. After a year went by the queen bore twins, a son and a daughter.

While the castle cheered for the children the queen remembered the promise she had made with the rose and broke down in tears again.

She cried day and night when the fairies came back once again. "Oh queen, why are you crying?" The fairies asked.

"I am crying because I have a daughter." The queen replied, tears falling from her eyes. The fairies listened to the queen's cries and talked among themselves. The fairies flew towards the vase and bloomed a small red rose bud into a beautiful rose far more lush than the roses after a rainstorm.

"Why are you crying, oh queen? The rose asked "Do you not have everything that you ever wanted? Do you not have a son that you wished for?"

"But I also have a daughter who I love." The queen replied. The rose was angry because the queen didn't want to give her daughter to the Fairy King. 

"Have I not granted your wish? For a son that will rule the kingdom for a long time?" The roses said in anger, "You promised that if you bore a daughter you will give her to the Fairy King."

But the queen could not let her daughter go because she loved her dearly. While the rose was angry because the queen didn't want to keep her promise that she had made a year ago. So the rose placed a curse telling the queen "The moment the princess pricks her finger in a needle, she will turn into a red rose and the Fairy King will whisk her away and take her to the fairy kingdom. From then on you shall never see the princess ever again."

The queen cried once again when she had heard what the rose had said but it did not take back its words, letting the rose that was so beautiful wilt and fall.

The queen had told the king and when the king heard this he made a command that every needle is to be taken away from the castle.

They took away every needle and spinning wheel in the castle and burned them outside. They didn't let the princess near anything sharp fearing that she would prick her hand and the Fairy King would take her away.

As the princess grew she had never seen a needle in her life and the king and queen had banned anything sharp to be brought to the castle for that day. The roses in the castle gardens didn't have thorns all cut by the gardeners that cared for them.

The prince grew to be smart and loyal. He cared for his people and the people loved him back. The princess grew up to be loving and kind, who cared for the people and was the treasure of the kingdom.

The prince and the princess' coming-of-age ceremony was held in the castle and the king happily invited all his people to come to the ball. The prince and princess were given many gifts and presents. Books from faraway nations, gems made into gorgeous pieces of jewelry, dresses made with the finest silks, an abundance of gold, and more.

As people danced at the ball, the last guest arrived to give his gift. It was an old man slowly walking towards them with a bouquet of roses. "I do not have much but I wish to give the prince and princes these roses." The old man said, handing the roses to the prince. "I thank you for your gift." The prince said. "Please enjoy the ball." The princess said.

The prince sniffed the roses, the fragrant smell stronger than any other rose that he smelled. The color of the roses is a deep shade of red and lush. "My sister look at these roses." The prince said, showing the princess the roses. "They are the most beautiful roses I have ever seen. More beautiful than a red ruby."

The princess looked at the roses and indeed they were just like the brother said. The princess wanted to touch the roses and reached out for a rose only to get pricked by the thorn of the rose.

The queen screamed when she saw the blood on the princess's finger and the king and prince tried to reach the princess when she was turned to roses as the old man had turned into the Fairy King and took her away to a world of fairies.--

"Fairy King! It is night time now and the queen is still with the child." The fairies chanted, calling the king to stop reading. Sharp eyes looked up from the book created by humans reading a familiar story simplified for kids' entertainment. Looking at the sky he saw the moon high up and stars shining bright. Standing up he listened to the fairies smaller than his own hand. “Where is my wife? It is getting late.” “She is with the boy, Fairy King. They are in the same place as before.” Flying out of the fairy castle into the garden where he knew you were currently and a small young human boy.

Under the moonlight, he found you sitting on a tree where he left you, and the boy continued to tell a story about his parents even when he saw the Fairy King from the corner of his eye. You would nod silently as if listening intently of what the boy had to say. 

"It is night now my dear." The fairy king Oberon spoke.

Hearing his voice you slowly moved your head towards him and quietly smiled while the boy pouted as if knowing that it was his cue to leave. It was as if he had come here many times before that too. "But I wanna still play." The boy whined only to be silenced when you slowly reached for the boy's hair, patting his head. At your touch, the young boy gave up his whining quickly.

"Promise me that we can play again?" The boy asked and received a soft smile from you. Seeing that the boy sighed "Okay..."

Oberon watched as the boy waved goodbye at you leaving the fairy world guided by the fairies when he looked at you again. The Fairy King watched as the boy continued to look back at you, eyes begging to tell him to come back.

The boy and you had similar features to each other.

Taking steps towards you he reached for his wife. You looked at him surprised yet your smile only grew when you realized you were off the ground and in his arms looking around like a child feeling tall. "My wife, my queen, it is time for you to rest too. This king knows that you are tired." Oberon spoke, only to receive a pout from you. You tried to shuffle away from his hold, push yourself away to make a distance so that he would not take you back when you were having so much fun. Yet your hands did little to make a gap between you and him. You were too weak, too frail to push him away.

Your attention was quickly taken away tho, when you noticed his platinum blonde hair that was long enough to reach the floor. On his head was a crown made of golden leaves and jewels. Reaching out you touched his face clear of any imperfections.

Oberon looked at you, smiled silently as you started to rub your finger on his chin, and then started to play with his hair and long ears as if you had forgotten when you tried to struggle away from his hold. Your eyes were hazy as if you were daydreaming as if you were in a daze, those had been your eyes ever since you arrived in the fairy kingdom. In tears and anguish from being taken away from your own home and family, you tried to run away so Oberon had to make sure you stayed.

Every fruit and dessert you ate was dusted with golden dust. With the showers that you had in the lake, the fairies would make sure to drop fairy dust alongside water and then coat your skin with golden liquid. The clothes that you wore white silk decorated with beautiful flowers and jewels. From roses, lilacs, and daisies to rubies, sapphires and emeralds as you moved your clothes and your skin sparkled in gold.

His shiny treasure. Adorable and sweet in his arms. The fairies cooed at his highness and his beloved. Once upon a time, you pushed him away screaming at the top of your lungs terrified of his kind, screaming that he kidnapped you. Only to calm down with golden honey. Each day Oberon fed you such honey made out of the golden dust, it was what gave the fairies their magic, their ability to fly but also their life spans. It was a common food for them, something like how humans treat rice, bread, or potatoes.

If a human were to drink such nectar or inhale so much of the fairy dust their life spans would lengthen and they would be beautiful, the old would become young again to when they were at their peak. But it also comes with a high cost. Fairy dust wasn't meant for human consumption, it wasn't meant for humans at all. It was an addiction, the moment one takes in that dust, they would never be able to turn back to their normal life. 

Humans feel ecstatic the moment they have it, a high that is so powerful that they can see nothing but happiness. They were blind to the world, while beautiful and young they had become too dumb to form sentences but even think. They go along with whatever others say and due to it, many have died as they were taken advantage of while others couldn't see the dangers right in front of them, as those who were drunk on such dust fell from high places or unknowingly consumed something they shouldn't. Yet even when the person finally goes back to normal they would start to crave it, an instant addiction that slowly turned them into monsters who could not understand what was right or wrong.

It was an immediate reaction when you finally drank the honey a faster kick compared to dust, it made the whole world dizzy as you didn't understand what was happening. But you are happy, so happy and you don't know why. Drool of honey and spit from your mouth, unable to function properly as the fairy king places you on your new throne. This shall be your home, and it has been for a long time now.

Years passed and every day they placed the honey down your lips whether you liked it or not keeping you happy and satted. Your little fusses are weak and short-lived as you look at the world around you with innocent eyes, sparkling and giggly. Hundreds of years pass by and you haven't aged at all, still so curious over something that you have seen every day almost as if you forgot every single time.  

While you should have died, becoming nothing but brainless when the dust could physically melt the brain. It was by the fairy king that you were still alive with his power; he would keep you whole right beside him.

Gone was your ability to walk something that he took long ago. Had he placed you down on your legs you would only collapse like a puppet with no strings unable to raise your body anymore. Your legs were useless now. Not that he minded it at all, to have you wrapped around his arms, nothing could ever compare to such thing. 

You were affectionate like this, so happy. Unable to form proper words, unable to remember your own name unless he spoke it. Moments after he did you looked like a puppy wagging its tail with wide eyes as if you had found a present… that was already yours.

Taking you deeper into the forest you placed your hands on the fairy king's cheeks a soft smile on your lips. Teasing he thought to himself as he looked at you, he kissed the crown of your head receiving a melodic laugh from you as you kissed his chin three times.

Oberon had grown affection for you, his lovely queen and while many tried to take you back long ago he didn't let them. The way to the fairy world and human world gate closed, covering the entrance with thick vines of thorns, that would not be cut even with a sword but only a small opening enough for a small kid to pass through if they so found the path.

The queen and king both had died in heartbreak over the loss of their precious daughter while your brother both smart and wise led the kingdom with care but had also become crazy over the loss of his sister behind the curtains dying with only regret. Many thought it was magic that killed the royal family but no one had the answers. The story went down and turned into a storybook for kids, which taught them to never make a promise they could not keep. When Oberon looked at the ending for the first time, he could not help but frown at its "happy" ending. 

But it matters not he thought to himself as he placed you down on a bed made of soft materials and on the edge sleeping flowers and gold carvings. He flew around you and took his side of the bed watching your breath as your body slowly inhaled and exhaled sleep had quickly taken you to your dreams. It seemed that you were tired from playing with your great grand-niece as you had quickly fallen asleep from exhaustion even after 2 naps in the daylight. Moving you closer he moved your body to make you face the pillow just a little as he touched your bare back where your clothes didn't cover that area.

You moaned uncomfortable by the cold hand touching your back but Oberon didn't seem to care as he looked for bumps in your naked back when he found a few. They were bumps that didn't quite belong to humans rather they belonged to fairies. Specifically, humans that were turning into fairies.

It will take a long time to change you from a human to a fairy queen, it would take more than a hundred years to grow wings, after all, they need to change the body to make room for a container to absorb magic. A human would not only need the fairy dust they would need the fairy king's permission that the fairy dust shall not kill the being consuming it… but also time. Time that most humans didn't have, but you have been given a gift ever since you were born you never knew it but you were already so different from humans ever since that deal that your foolish mother made.

He would make sure your wings would be as beautiful as the sunset, far more beautiful than lush roses, more that it would dull the color of rubies. And you will open your wings and flap them but this time you would fly towards him and into his arms. You will love him just as much as he loves you and you shall accept your place in his side as the queen of the fairies.

He would make sure that you would be beautiful and forever young. He kept you for over a hundred years now and he intends to keep you by his side for thousands.

[azsazz]

Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

[manikas-whims]

the fake dating u did was so good, like, ate and left no crumbs?? and i feel like its so spot on?? you did amazing thank you so much for ur writing

could u do a follow up on it?? i need to see the angst and confusion of the reader and the fluff at the end 🥹🥹

have a good day!!

OMG thank you for the shower of compliments 🫶😭

As i said in another ask, i wrote those HCs as a one shot thingy, and i’m still shocked so many wanted a part 2 so here it is!..FINALLY!

with a dash of misunderstandings, a sprinkling of pent-up desires and a spoonful of angst with a happy ending.

APOLOGIES FOR THE LONG WAIT. HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT! ♡

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 2

new readers make sure to read [PART 1] before you read this..

ZAYNE

❄️ You know you crossed a line when you requested Zayne to kiss you.

❄️ That one kiss led to the start of many more. Now Zayne kisses you whenever he drops you off at work and whenever he comes by to pick you up. And before you can even realize, they've become a part of your normal routine.

❄️ Speaking of kisses, they aren't merely innocent pecks anymore. Now they feel passionate and longer, involve a little tease of the tongue here and there, and always leave you weak in the knees.

❄️ But this controlled manner of feeding off of his generosity is proving to be quite difficult for you. If anything, the kisses have made you greedier. Every time his lips touch you, you hope that it doesn't simply end there. That he doesn't stop. You desire more than you should out of this fake relationship. You desire more than you deserve.

���️ But before this desire of yours can take over and make you do something you can never take back, you decide to end things with Zayne.

❄️ It's a normal evening in his office. He's sorting through his patients’ files when you call out to him.

❄️ He looks up and patiently awaits whatever it is you have to tell him.

❄️ You feel your lips quiver.

❄️ Zayne may have agreed to be your fake boyfriend because you had practically begged him to but he isn't obligated to give you anything that isn't needed. Him picking and dropping you to and from work, sharing meals together and kissing you in front of others is already so generous of him.

❄️ That is all it should've been. Only you ended up developing real feelings.

❄️ But if you let this farce run any longer, you'll end up mistaking his kindness for genuine affection. You'll end up fooling yourself into thinking its real. Not just for you but him as well. That your feelings are reciprocated.

❄️ Your mouth opens and shuts, as you try to muster the courage before softly murmuring. “I think we should stop.”

❄️ For a moment, he stares at you, unmoving as ice. Then his mouth motions but you don't hear word. You run away.

❄️ Days pass with you ignoring Zayne's calls and texts. You skip work as well in order to avoid him.

❄️ Your doorbell rings one night and you almost jump. Dread instantly begins pooling in your belly. What if it's Zayne?

❄️ With anxious limbs, you answer the door only to find your friend Tara.

❄️ Tara tells you that she was only trying to set you up on dates because she hasn't seen you genuinely whole ever since you lost your family. That she wanted you to have someone who could complete you. But now that she's seen you with Zayne, her worries have faded into thin air. She is happy for you two. She is happy to see you happy after so long.

❄️ Though her words may have been supportive and full of warmth, they only make you feel worse. You end up crying and spilling the truth– the entire truth about the fake dating arrangement.

❄️ To your surprise, Tara is as kind as Zayne and instantly empathizes with you. She understands. And she apologizes for being so forceful in her attempts to look out for you by finding you dates.

❄️ Tara comforts you for a while but before departing, she suggests you come clean to Zayne and confess. She believes that it will all turn out fine in the end.

❄️ Well, its easier for her to say that. You're the one who actually grew up with Zayne. You know he's always been an honest man and how much it will hurt him when he learns that you've been taking advantage of your arrangement to enjoy his affectionate gestures. That after a while, you began deliberately prolonging the kisses in hopes of getting something more..

❄️ You wake up the next morning to incessant knocking at your door, and wonder if it's Tara again, come all this to check up on you.

❄️ Sleepily you answer the door. And the drowsiness dissipates from your eyes the moment you find the familiar tall figure of your childhood friend clad in his tight black shirt and dark trousers.

❄️ Dread seeps into your being once more and you lower your head in shame. If Zayne is here then it can only mean one thing. You knew this was bound to happen. But you are a coward nonetheless, and you can't bear to look at him as he breaks your heart.

❄️ Zayne let's out a breath and speaks. “That evening in my office..I’m sorry if its because of something I did..”

❄️ His apology makes you feel sick. You will not let him take the blame for your own misdeeds.

❄️ “No Zayne, I’m the one who asked for your help. And I didn't even consider the fact that I might catch feelings for you.” You pause to collect your thoughts. “But I know how wrong and stupid I was for it. And that is why I ended things between us. Before I could do something worse and spoil our—”

❄️ You stop abruptly as Zayne pushes the door further open and steps up on the threshold, hovering intimidatingly over you. He tilts his head low and speaks. “The arrangement wasn't just yours. Any decisions related to it should be reached only after proper discussion between the parties involved.”

❄️ His statement takes you by surprise and you finally move your lashes to hesitantly look up at his face. “I didn't think it mattered to you. I thought you were merely being kind and helpful..like always.”

❄️ “On the contrary, I was enjoying our little arrangement. After all,” Zayne inches even closer, his voice an octave lower. “it allowed me to spend more time in the company of the person I yearn for.”

❄️ It isn't his statement but the intensity of his gaze that arouses a tiny flicker of hope within you. “Zayne..you..I thought..I was the only one taking advantage of the situation..”

❄️ He chuckles lightly. “Apparently we both were. It seems our arrangement stopped being fake the moment we kissed.”

❄️ That tiny flicker of hope bursts into a lively flame of desire. “Then, you also wanted it to be real?”

❄️ He gives no verbal response but his lips quirk up into the barest hint of a smile as he nods.

❄️ For a moment, you stare at each other, processing all the words exchanged; the next, Zayne takes off his glasses and and tucks them in his pocket. And your lips find his, like many times this past week. Only now, neither of you stop just there for this isn’t pretense anymore. It's mutual, and it's real.

❄️ His hands slip beneath your shirt, cold fingers leaving a trail of warmth along every inch they touch.

❄️ And he kisses you harder, his tongue prying your lips apart as he pushes you inside the house and shuts the door behind him.

XAVIER

⭐ Things have been going pretty well ever since that “incident” in front of your apartment door. The creepy resident has stopped showing up.

⭐ You can freely enjoy the gym and pool in your apartment complex and everything else without the constant intrusion of that weirdo.

⭐ And although Xavier still goes out for morning laps and evening walks with you, accompanies you for the exercise sessions and even checks up on you at your apartment, he has cut-down on everything else. He is holding your hand a lot less and doesn't slip his arms around your waist as much.

⭐ It’s only fair though. Since the strange man isn't hitting on you anymore, there isn't much need for Xavier to act either.

⭐ You can live with it. Bear with him not engaging in any sort of skinship anymore. But your mind simply cannot forget the way his lips had felt against your own.

⭐ In the loneliness of the moonlit nights, you often find your fingers tracing the same spot his lips had sucked on your neck. You close your eyes and revisit the memory of his lips pressed gently upon yours. The memory of him kissing you a second time but with much more impatience and fervor. And you wish he'd do it all again.

⭐ It's not even surprising that you like Xavier. The guy has been nothing but helpful, protective and co-operative. And he indulges all your requests– from hanging out at the claw machine or playing kitty cards to something as unnecessary as a late night walk– when he could be spending that time reading a book or dozing-off.

⭐ You have found Xavier attractive ever since your first encounter. It's just that only now his searing kisses have left a mark upon your heart. Made you realise that you harbor an emotion far deeper than mere attraction for this man. And it's quite vexing how quickly he seems to have moved on from those shared kisses.

⭐ How can he smile at you with the same lips that nearly stole your breath away? How can he simply go on with his life while you lie awake in bed at nights, reminiscing those moments over and over?

⭐ Xavier has completely ruined you.

⭐ You can neither focus on work nor are you interested in gossiping with Tara and Nero. And to make matters worse, you get assigned to a mission with the last person you wanna face right now— the eccentric, silver-haired neighbor who claims to have killed more than 70,000 wanderers. The same man who had you pinned against a door just a week ago.

⭐ The mission starts smoothly. You and Xavier arrive at the location of a forest with high protofield fluctuations. You are synced as ever, efficiently taking down wave after wave of wanderers.

⭐ But there's a tension radiating between the two of you. It distracts you momentarily, resulting in you almost getting struck by a wanderer swerving it's blade towards you.

⭐ Fortunately, Xavier steps in at the last instant, slips an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With his other arm, he effortlessly swings his blade and deflects the wanderer's blows.

⭐ He is saying something now, his expression full of concern. But you can barely hear a thing due to the loud drumming of your heart. You are too lost in the sensation of his strong arm firmly holding you in place.

⭐ When you give no response, he tilts his head adorably in confusion and stares at you. And for the briefest of moments, his eyelids lower, his gaze seemingly lingering upon your lips before he licks his own and lets go of your waist, flexing his gloved fingers as he does so.

⭐ He clears his throat, tightens his grip around his sword and resumes his battle stance.

⭐ By the time you've cleared out the wanderers, you want nothing more than to go home. However, Xavier is already approaching you.

⭐ “You seem a little preoccupied. Is that creep bothering you again? Do you need me to beat him up?” He asks.

⭐ “What!?— No! I told you that you can't beat him up!” You wave your hands frantically.

⭐ “Then,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “it’s that kiss, isn't it?”

⭐ Your face instantly heats up at his direct mention of the kiss. You aren't good with confrontations, especially not when they involve the very man responsible for the sickness of your heart. So you bite your bottom lip and and try leaving again, hoping this is enough of a response.

⭐ But if there's one thing you've come to learn about Xavier, its that he can be very assertive when he wants to be. And right now he's unrelenting. He grabs you by the wrist, gently making you face him again. “I went a little too far, didn't I? I should've asked you before doing something like that. Let me make up for it.”

⭐ The sincerity in his eyes melts your heart. You're the one who had come to him with such an unusual request. You're the one who said he wasn't convincing enough, so he tried to make it feel more genuine. And yet here he is, not even questioning you for a second but already striving to make up for it.

⭐ You can't let him punish himself for it, especially since he didn't hurt you at all. Only left you wanting for more. “Xavier, you didn't go too far. And I don't want you to make up for it.”

⭐ His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “What do you want then?”

⭐ There's a conviction in his eyes– the same one he has before promising he'll win all the plushies for you at the claw machine, the same one he has when slaying wanderers. And you can't help but be honest with him. “I..I want you to kiss me like that..again..”

⭐ There! You've said it now. To hell with shame! And to hell with frustration! You're too tired to hide your feelings any longer.

⭐ Yet at the same time, the anticipation of his response is stressful. You try to pry your hand free of his hold but it only grows tighter now.

⭐ “You– You didn't mind it?” Xavier's eyes darken. So does his demeanor. He takes a step forward, and you take two back. “You’ve been wanting me..to do it again?”

⭐ You nod slightly, and he exhales a breath.

⭐ Xavier draws you closer, his eyes wordlessly asking permission this time. You nod again.

⭐ The next moment, his lips press softly against yours. And for the first time this week, you feel a little sated. It's not all you have ever wished for. Barely anything at all. But it gives you enough strength to live with your feelings for him.

⭐ The kiss deepens as he pushes you against the nearest tree branch, his lips parting your own. You gasp and turn your face away.

⭐ “Xavier, you don't need to do more.” You whisper breathily. “This is enough.”

⭐ He leans his face down, lips moving along your neck. “It’s hardly enough.”

⭐ Even with the pleasure clouding your thoughts, you remind yourself that you can't keep taking his willingness for granted. You can't let him go on. “Xavier, you don't need to pretend for my sake.”

⭐ “I’m not pretending. I want this too.” His response is immediate. “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time.”

⭐ His words hold weight, unlike any declaration made in the heat of the moment. So you give in. Let his hand guide your thigh around his waist as he kisses you again, under the evening quite of the forest.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Keep up the act for some more time?” Rafayel asks, surprised.

🌊 It's the day after you'd attended that fancy gala with him. You're both sitting on the couch in his studio and you're the one who give this lame suggestion.

🌊 He rests his chin on the back of his palm and smiles mischievously, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t tell me, Miss Bodyguard..have you caught feelings for me?”

🌊 If you were drinking something, you would've probably sputtered it all over by now. But thankfully, there are no refreshments in your hands, and you will not embarass yourself by admitting how accurate he is in his guess (even if made only in jest).

🌊 You school your face into a stern expression as you look back at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. If we break up right now, after you've been parading me around in everyone's faces, then people will talk. Critics will latch onto this opportunity to write think pieces in hopes of sullying your name. I'm only being cautious as your bodyguard.”

🌊 Rafayel puts a hand over his heart and feigns a hurt expression. “And here I thought you've finally fallen for my irresistible charm.”

🌊 You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

🌊 “I don't need to think so because its a fact. I am amazing.” He sits up straight. “Anyways I don't care much for critics. I don't care if people misunderstand or hate my art. But I know Thomas will be pulling his hair out if I get a bad name right now.”

🌊 “So,” He pauses for effect as you edge closer to him in anticipation. “I guess we'll keep running this charade for some more time.”

🌊 Before you can even realize, your lips are stretching up into a small smile. You know this is a foolish arrangement. One that is bound to end in nothing but pure agony for you. Yet you insist on dragging this along because you are desperate for a little more time with him. You cannot imagine going back to simply being Rafayel the painter's “bodyguard”.

🌊 You may have developed feelings for him a long time ago but its that kiss that made you realize how far gone you are for this man.

🌊 And you foolishly hope and believe that not all of it had been a mere act for him either. That there's a possibility of him liking you just a teensy bit. And this crazy belief has deluded you into entertaining fantasies you should not.

🌊 Now that you've had a taste of what it's like to have him as your lover, it's impossible for you to settle for anything less. You want him, and you wish for him to want you too.

🌊 The snap of a finger in front of your face draws you out of your juvenile daydreams. Rafayel is assessing your face. “Where are you? Come back to the real world, Miss Bodyguard. We're discussing some important things here.”

🌊 Your cheeks heat up and you apologize for getting distracted. “Yes, I'm listening. What is it?”

🌊 Rafayel shakes his head but begins explaining. “I’m saying that since we can't break up abruptly, then let's do it,” He pauses again, spreading his arms out and staring up at the high ceiling dramatically. “publicly.”

🌊 Your hear a crumbling sound and feel an ache in your heart. “What does that mean?”

🌊 He grins excitedly. “If we break up publicly, in the presence of a huge crowd with big names and paparazzis around, then surely it will leave little to no room for speculation and criticism.”

🌊 You feel fissures steadily forming on your heart. This isn't what you had expected when you had suggested him to continue on with this charade. A sinking feeling looms over you yet despite that you try your best to force a smile upon your face. “That..seems like an interesting idea.”

🌊 From that point onwards, any time to you meet Rafayel, the passionate kiss you had shared at the gala plays in the back of your mind. And you wonder if you'll ever get to kiss him again, even if only for the sake of this temporary farce.

🌊 Now every time Rafayel steps even an inch closer to you or lowers his head, you find yourself expecting– and hoping for– a kiss. A kiss that sadly never comes.

🌊 And the worst part is that you can't get mad at him. He merely asked you to play pretend. He never asked you to catch feelings. If anything, you should've been just as professional as he is. At least it would've saved you from experiencing the heaviness you feel within your chest.

🌊 But lets ignore all that because today you are at Rafayel’s place to discuss how the two of you will publicly carry out a fake break-up of your fake relationship during an upcoming exhibition.

🌊 Rafayel explains how you are supposed to yell at him during the exhibition, and make sure everyone around hears how difficult it is for you to date someone well-known. That it is becoming impossible for the two of you to make time for each other.

🌊 You scoff. “And then what? You'll say how I've always been nothing but a gold digger, chasing after you for your money and fame?”

🌊 Rafayel claps his hands. “Actually not bad. And then you can say how I am just as rotten as the rest of the celebrities.”

🌊 You can't help but laugh despite the ache in your heart. “This is so trope-y and predictable. No one will buy it.”

🌊 “Oh trust me they will. Everyone loves a little drama.” Rafayel tries convincing you. “You can add a few more insults and break my heart. And I can dedicate my next art piece to you, my cute but cruel ex.”

🌊 You laugh some more and he laughs with you.

🌊 Rafayel may act a little arrogant and childish at times but he is a good person by nature. Whether intentional or not, he always makes you laugh. The time spent in his company may not always be relaxing but it is certainly always entertaining.

🌊 And you realize how these moments will be gone forever after this so-called “break-up”, and how truly unprepared you are to endure it.

🌊 The eve of the exhibition finally arrives.

🌊 Rafayel keeps repeating the things you are supposed to say and do if you are to end this arrangement tonight. But you can only focus on the unease bubbling within your belly.

🌊 He quirks his chin, signaling for you to begin but you find yourself rooted in spot, unable to utter a single word. The unease in your belly grows and you take a deep breath before finally speaking.

🌊 “I’m..I’m getting tired of this.” You mumble softly. You aren't sure if anyone heard that but you continue. “You’re the one who asked me out yet now I feel as if you don't even care.”

🌊 Your voice is shaky now. You're taking in more breaths with every word you speak. Rafayel's calm expression falters as he watches the way you ball your palms into tight fists. “I..I don't think I can go on any longer!”

🌊 Your words resonate with your actual feelings. You really cannot go on like this much longer. You will miss the silly moments spent with him. You will be unable to genuinely smile with him after this. It will become impossible for you to even be his bodyguard. And you don't want that. You don't want any of it!

🌊 The unease in your belly spreads all over your skin like a wildfire. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks as you shake your head at him. “I can't do this.” You choke out before running off, the crowd of people around gasping in shock.

🌊 Rafayel follows right on your heels, grabbing you by the waist before you can trip on the stairs and fall.

🌊 “Let me go!” You yell but he's pulling you into a secluded room.

🌊 “Hey..calm down.” He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears and gently wipes your tears with his thumb.

🌊 But you can't do this. You can't tolerate him being so tender with you right before he mercilessly breaks your heart. You step away from him and his eyes widen, a hint of anguish now swimming in them.

🌊 “What's wrong, Y/N?” He asks, calling you by your actual name instead of the nickname he loves so much.

🌊 And you actually respond, words flooding out of your mouth like a crumbling damn. “Rafayel, I can't do this. I am drowning in my feelings for you. And I know it's not your responsibility to feel the same way just cause I do but I..” You sob, unable to say anymore.

🌊 He stares at you for a moment, an unknown emotion alight in his eyes. Then he breaks into a shrill laugh, the sound of it echoing loudly in the silent room. And he wraps his arms around you in an embrace, his shoulders shaking as he laughs some more.

🌊 “Look at you, falling for me just when I try to distance myself from you.” He strokes soothing circles on your back. “When I try to end all this to run away from my own feelings for you..”

🌊 Your own eyes widen now and you pull away to look at him, waiting for him to affirm what he just said. He chuckles, wiping your tear-stained face before leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.

🌊 “Yeah yeah I'm madly in love with. And it seems you did, after all, fall for my irresistible charms.” He drawls out as if talking about something insignificant.

🌊 Then he leans closer, his breath tickling your lips. “If you wanted us to date for real, you should've simply asked. Instead you made me chase after you like some besotted prince in a fairy tale.”

🌊 You find yourself laughing at that and he lets out a breath.

🌊 “There’s the laugh.” He murmurs, sealing his lips with yours, his fingers carding through your hair as he tilts your head and deepens the kiss.

Hope it was upto your expectations or atleast as enjoyable as part 1 of this ♡ It's unedited so i apologise for any errors (i'm a little sleepy and will edit later). And thank you for all the love and support on all my LADS headcanons so far 🥹🫶

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[space-cowgirllll]

Crush

a/n: soft jackson ellie ily.

not proofread, if you see any mistakes look away lol.

She couldn't stop staring. Sitting on a cold bench in front of Jackson's little schoolhouse, she hides behind the astronomy book she'd recently found while out on patrol. Frozen fingers flip to the next page every couple of seconds, far too fast to actually retain any information. She watches you lead Joel to a particular part of the fence that has clearly seen better days. The wood is rotting and splitting apart in certain spots. No longer safe for the children who play nearby. You nudge the post with the toe of your boot, eyes widening when it topples over. 

Her eyes follow the curve of your neck as you throw your head back, laughing at something Tommy said. Your smile lights up your entire face, sending a flutter of giddiness through her body, almost as if it had been directed at her. She bites her lip, averting her eyes when you crouch down to inspect the damage. Where you found jeans that fit you like that in times like these she'd like to know. One more quick glance and she contemplates walking away, leaving Joel to get dinner by himself.

"What are we looking at?" A familiar voice whispers behind her, causing her to almost drop her book. She clutches it to her chest.

"Nothing!" She whips her head around to find Jesse and Dina behind her. The pair plop down on either side of her watching while the two men try to make the broken piece work until Joel can come back and replace it later. You stand off to the side chatting, not wanting to get in their way. Ellie marvels at how pretty you look under the street lights. Your hair a messy halo of waves, making you look angelic. 

"So," Jesse knocks his knee against hers "Are you ever gonna actually talk to her?"

"I talk to her!" Ellie scowls. "She comes over to Joel's for dinner once a week."

"Oh, we know." He interrupts "We've been invited."

"It was brutal."  Dina winces. 

The couple quietly tease Ellie, reminiscing over that night a few months ago. She had begged them to come and serve as a buffer between you and her. They spent the whole night watching Ellie try and fail to not make a complete fool of herself. Stumbling over her words and cracking lame jokes that left her screaming into her pillow later that night in embarrassment. Jesse's foot kicking her under the table when she stared for too long. Ellie listens with a pout on her face. 

"You guys are the worst." She groans. Her eyes travel back to where you stand, widening a little when she sees you already staring. There's a tiny smile playing on the edge of your lips. Heat rises to her cheeks when you send her a little wave. Sorry, you mouth, gesturing to Joel and Tommy.

Dina's giggle seems to catch your attention. You shift from Ellie's flushed face to the brunette beside her. The two of you share a look, seemingly having a conversation with just your eyes. There's a sly smirk on your face when you finally look away. Her brows furrow in confusion. In that moment, Ellie wishes she spoke girl better. 

"You know what? Surprisingly, I think she might like you too." Her best friend pats her thigh as she stands. "Do something about it before she finds someone else who will actually make a move." 

She grabs a confused Jesse by the hand, leading him in the direction of her house. The two whispering as they go. 

Ellie digs the heel of her sneaker into the ground, the thin layer of snow crunching underneath her foot. Most of the people in her life knew about her little crush. The way she offers to take your patrol shifts if it was too cold. Always on the lookout for things that would brighten up your small classroom. Volunteering when you ask for help with random little tasks during town meetings. She isn't as subtle as she thought. There's no way you don't know she's spent the past year and a half pining after you and haven't said anything. 

Not only is she ridiculously awkward, Ellie speculates your disinterest also comes from the three year age gap between you two. At twenty four, you probably see her as a little girl with a crush. 

She can see how much you enjoy spending time with Joel, especially after your grandfather's passing. She would hate to ruin that for you. It's better for everyone if she keeps her mouth shut.

____

It isn't until a week later that Ellie sees you again. She's shirtless in the middle of her makeshift home in the garage just feet behind Joel's house. There's a small pile of discarded tops sitting at the foot of her bed. She huffs, trying to find one that nice enough, but doesn't make it look like she tried too hard.

You stopped by the stables in the morning, making plans with Joel for dinner and a game of poker. Ellie hid behind Shimmer, trying to think of a way to get out of tonight when a look from Joel told her she had no choice. She fumbles with the last couple of buttons on the flannel, too lost in thought to hear the sound of the door opening. 

"Ellie, food's read- oh!" 

"Shit!" She spins around to find you standing in the doorway, eyes fixed on her panicked face as she pops the last button open. Ellie shoves her arms into the sleeves of the maroon flannel she'd borrowed from Dina, knowing it probably matched the color of her flushed cheeks. At least she'd thought to put on a bra.

"In my defense, I knocked twice." You state as you slowly make your way around the room, pausing to inspect the posters hung on her walls. She watches you pick up the comic she'd thrown on the coffee table earlier. Your eyes light up in recognition. "Oh hey! My grandpa used to read these to me. I think I have some you're missing if you ever wanna see them." 

Her breath catches in her throat at the prospect of spending more time with you. "Really?" She grins. "I'd like that."

You nod, walking slowly towards her. Your footsteps loud in the quiet room. Ellie watches the way your piercing gaze roams her face, slipping to her exposed torso for just a second before locking eyes with her. She hopes you didn't hear the embarrassing way her breath hitches when you replace her clumsy fingers with yours. Ellie basks in the warmth radiating from your body as you button up her shirt, your warm breath hitting her temple. 

"Cute." You smirk looking down at her. "Really makes your eyes pop." Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, you step back towards the door. "Don't make us wait too long."

Ellie stands frozen, heart pounding in her chest, listening to your retreating footsteps wondering what the hell just happened.  ——

After another slightly awkward dinner, she was shocked when you showed up at her doorstep again that night, this time waiting until she opened the door. Giving her a shy smile, you'd held out a box full of old comics, letting her know there was no rush on returning them. Ellie still remembers the grin that bloomed on your face when she'd invited you in. 

The two of you rarely left each other's side after that. Your friendship blossoming in the months that followed. It helped that you liked to talk and Ellie liked to listen to you talk. Most nights were spent together, either at your place or hers. She loved it when you read to her while she drew in her sketchbook. Some nights she would attempt to teach you how to play some of her favorite video games, enjoying how cute you looked when you were pouting after losing to her. The two of you had even started growing a dvd collection, always fighting over what movie to watch (she let you win almost every time.) 

She couldn't believe how quickly you'd become such a big part of her life. Ellie still had the urge to pinch herself on the mornings when she'd wake up to you sleeping soundly next to her. And on the nights where she'd stay awake, late into the early hours of the morning, memorizing every inch of your face, the magnitude of her feelings for you scared her. She'd do anything for you. 

Which is how she finds herself standing in the corner of the room nursing a drink, doing what she does best - watching you. You've been looking forward to the winter dance for weeks, begging Ellie to come with. The sweet look on your face when she walked through the door sent a rush of excitement through her.

You stay by her side all night until one of your friends pulls  you to the makeshift dance floor, managing to get Ellie out for one song before she quickly retreats back to where she was despite your protests. You're glowing under the twinkling lights, dancing and singing your way around the room. The navy blue sweater she'd gifted you for Christmas last month fits you like a glove.

"So where's your girl?" She looks up to find Jesse standing there, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat from dancing. Dina's laugh sounds off from somewhere behind him.

Ellie chokes on her drink "She's not my girl." She says through a nervous chuckle. 

"You mean to tell me you follow her around like a lost puppy and you'll sleep in her bed but you won't tell her how you feel?" 

She shifts nervously from one foot to the other. "We're just friends. I sleep over at Dina's all the time."

"You don't look at Dina the way you look at her." He sighs looking out at the crowd of dancing people. "All I'm saying is it's only gonna get worse the longer you ignore it. Are you prepared to be her friend while she dates someone else?"

Ellie's eyes follow to where he's currently staring. Bile rises in her throat as she watches you dance with someone else. Twirling around with another woman, her hands where Ellie's had been just minutes before. Her hand grows clammy around the glass. The blonde kisses you. Her lips far too close to your mouth for it to be friendly. Before she knows it, she's pushing past her friend and rushing out the door. 

The chilly January wind bites at her face as soon as she steps outside. Blood rushes in her ears as she quickly walks back towards her house. She's mad. Mad at Jesse for being right. You for leaving her standing there alone. But mostly she's mad at herself. What had she been thinking? That she would just get to know you more and not fall even further? Her cold palms press into her eyes, trying to alleviate the stinging sensation. This crush was going to ruin her. 

She stops just feet from her door, digging into her pocket for her key. Footsteps that are not her own pound on the snowy pavement behind her. "Ellie!" 

Her eyes squeeze shut, regretting not walking faster. She wants nothing more than to freak out while buried underneath her covers. For the first time ever she doesn't want to see you. 

Your hand grips her bicep, spinning her around to face you. "Els what's wrong?" 

"Nothing 'm jus tired." She mumbles shrugging you off and taking a step back. Your lips pull down into a frown at her actions. 

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have come back together."

She scoffs. "You seemed a little busy. Didn't wanna bother you." 

"Ellie-"

"Caroline's great." She interrupts. "Word around town is she has quite the crush on you. If you wanna go back don't let me stop you."

"Oh my god shut up." In the blink of an eye she find herself up against the wall, your body caging her in. Your hands fly to the back of her head, fingers tangling in the short strands of her newly cut hair. You tug gently, forcing her to look up at you.

"She kissed you." Ellie whispers looking like a kicked puppy. 

"And if you had stayed long enough you would have seen me brush her off." You cup her face, slowly dragging your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing manner. The tenderness in your eyes will forever be ingrained in her mind. "There's only one person I want to spend my night with and she's right here."

"Really?" You nod, brushing the tips of your noses together.

"I don't want to be just your friend Ellie," You whisper against her lips, your breaths mingling together. Her ears ring at your confession, and she hopes you can't hear the way her heart is pounding. "and I know you don't either. I've been waiting for you to make the first move, but I'm real tired of being patient baby." 

Your lips press against hers in a soft kiss. It's hesitant at first, giving her the option to pull away. You see her eyes flutter shut, shaky hands wrapping around your neck. She whines quietly, wanting more. Her fingers slip down and hook onto your belt loops, pulling you in and deepening the kiss. Your tongue is soft and warm in her mouth, sliding against hers as you press her further into the wall. She shivers when your cold hands caress the warm skin of her lower back. 

Ellie's head goes fuzzy at the feeling of your thigh slotting in between her legs. Her hips seem to have a mind of their own as she slowly rocks back and forth on it, the seam of her jeans giving just enough friction to provide some relief. 

Her soft mewls and the wet sounds of your mouths fill the air. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes you two are still outside, where anyone walking by can see. You need to go inside. She just can't find it in her to care at the moment. 

Hands slide from their place on your hips to cup your ass, squeezing harshly, drawing a groan from you. "Hmm. Do you wanna know how many times I've caught you staring at it?" You ask as your mouth pulls back to kiss down the column of her throat. Teeth nipping the soft skin there. Ellie laughs breathlessly in response, somewhat lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. The dazed look in her eyes sends a jolt of heat through you. 

"Ellie?"

The two of you rip apart at the sound of Joel's voice. He stands just outside of his back door, the concerned look on his face vanishes when he spots you and Ellie off to the side of the garage. 

"You two alright out there?" 

You want to laugh at the clear discomfort and amusement in his voice. "Fine Joel, just walking her home."

"Uh huh." He doesn't sound convinced. "Well, best get inside before the snow picks up."

"Right. Good night!" 

Ellie rushes to unlock the door, pulling you in and slamming the door shut. 

"How did you know?" She asks, playing nervously with her fingers. Her freckled face deliciously flushed. A love bite peeking through the collar of her hoodie. 

"You weren't good at hiding it. I had my suspicions." you giggle, intertwining your fingers with hers. "Dina also might have put in a good word. Said I would love you if I just got to know you better."

"And?"

"She was right."

[helluvapoison]

rating how hazbin characters would handle a break up with you (except it progressively gets worse)

warnings: angsty, obsessive and unhealthy behaviors, alcohol, sex and drug mentions

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Charlie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

4/10 • She’s her father’s daughter, that’s for sure. Inconsolable, Charlie makes a cacoon out of her blankets and doesn’t leave for a couple hours… days… Putting on a brave face is hard for her. How is she supposed to invoke inspiration when she feels so fucking hopeless? As long as she doesn’t see you, she can force a smile and continue to run the hotel

Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

3/10 • So this is what betrayal feels like. Sharpening the blades around her wounded heart and rebuilding her wall of defense, Vaggie vows never to make this mistake again. She goes through the 5 stages of grief but lingers on anger for a really long time. Not at you, never at you, but herself

Angel Dust ⁎⁺˳✧༚

2/10 • Throwing up the illusion he’s unbothered only works for so long. Angel can snort, drink and fuck until he’s numb all over but the void in his soul refuses to be filled by anything that’s not you. You, unwittingly, threaten his chances at redemption because he’d rather go back to Val’s place than live under the same roof as you when you’re not his

Sir Pentious ⁎⁺˳✧༚

6/10 • He’s devastated, don’t get it twisted, but has a really interesting way of always picking himself back up. Pen would be courteous to you, albeit awkward, trying to understand the fresh dynamic between you. Catches himself when he tries to reach for your hand or sit next to you. It’s hardest when he’s alone, not even the Egg Boiz can cheer him up

Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

1/10 • It’s not an accident or a cry for help that he drowns himself in alcohol to the point he can’t get up. He’s stopping himself from falling to his knees before you and begging for you to come back. The bar goes unattended for the longest time, he can’t bare the thought of seeing you

Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

-500/10 • On the outside he’s right as rain! His smile never dropped before, you certainly won’t change that. Alastor doesn’t appreciate the sensitivity around the subject, loudly declaring that everything is fine. The room get’s notably colder when he walks in it, like he’s intentionally sucking up the light and warmth. If you thought parting ways with him would be easy, g̵̛̻ǘ̶̮͜è̶͔̫s̸̝̅s̵̯͒͝ ̵̺͚͛̈ą̸̫͝g̴͈͗̈́ā̷͉̻̋i̶̯͓͊n̵̳̓

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Push and pull.

Warning:  Angst

Pairing: skz x 9th member

Summary: The constant pressure of being a girl in a group of boys is crazy but crazier when your looked at like a fragile baby.

!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!

**

“Oppa just tell me what’s wrong pleaseee?” She begged, “I also care about you and you need to calm down. This is scaring me,”

"No I want to only talk to the boys, please Y/n?" He said and It stung. 

Han had been having a mental breakdown and had been crying for an hour straight. They had just arrived from practice when he decided to brush everyone off and leave to go to his room where Y/n had been begging him to come out of.

"Okay," She softly said and left the room. Was she not going enough for him? Did he not like her? The thoughts run through her head as she laid in bed trying not to cry. The pain of feeling neglected was slowly eating her alive.

She had been begging him to tell her what had happened but he refused. He didn't want to tell her what was going on but once the boys walked in back from their schedules, he wanted to speak to them straight away. Leaving Y/n sad and confused. 

She decided to to finish some work as she waited for the boys to finish talking to Han but even then her heart wasn't settled. She wasn't able to concentrate. The guilt was eating her up. It made her feel sick. So she decided to go make herself some tea and that's when she run into Felix in the kitchen making some brownies.

"Hey Felix," she softly smile and greeted him.

"Hey Y/nnie!" He beamed and waved at her then continued to mix the mixture in the bowl. "where you able to get more tape for your knee?"

"yeah i was, Eunwo (their manager) was able to get me some on our way back," she explained while she got a glass of water. "What are you doing?"

"Making brownies for Hannie, he isn't feeling the best," Y/n turned to look at his older brother.

"Can I please know why?" She took the chance to get it out of Felix because she knew Felix wasn't their strongest soldier when it came to keeping secrets from one another.

"No I'm sorry, Han said not to tell you," he looked back at the butter quickly trying to avoid the eye contact.

"But Lix-"

"No I'm not telling you, it's not my secret to tell," he cut her off and continued his work. He felt really bad for leaving her out but he knew himself he couldn't spill anything just yet.

"Okay, fine be a meanie,"  She softly sighed and got her cup of now iced coffee.

"No don't be like that, Han will tell you when his ready," he pouts walking over to her to her. hoping that someway he could fix the situation. 

Everyone knew that Y/n felt left out most of the times because she was the only girl and sometimes the boys had things they couldn’t tell her or share with her but other than that they told her everything and they tried to make her feel apart of the group. 

Since felix was the most sensitive and softest out of everyone he felt the need to protect her because felix did feel left out at a point when he couldn’t speak korean fluently and Y/ was the one who would stay up with him trying to help him study. In this case, Y/n was not feeling this 'brotherly' love. 

She shrugged his hands off and took a step back trying to get out of his reach. "I'm his bestfriend too, I'm part of this team too but I keep being treated like I'm an outsider," She let out a sigh and wiped the rolling tear. Trying to make sure Felix didn't see her cry.

"No don't cry please," he begged but she simply walked past him but ofcourse felix tried to follow but she stopped him and continued into her room where she locked the door and stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When it was time for dinner she went outside to grab the stuff she had ordered since leeknow wasn't cooking tonight and she sat on the empty dining table. Everyone was still sat in Han's room and there were a few empty cups on the table meaning they had all eaten already.

Felix had left her a plate of brownies for desert and a cup of milk so atleast she knew they still acknowledge her. As she sat there she got bored and saw it was 8pm.

So since she had nothing planed for the evening she decided to get up, put everything away and grab her training stuff to head to the jyp building. It was a short walk anyway and korea was a safe place to be wondeirng at night. The builidng looked quite empty but a few people were locking up and packingup to head home.

She scanned the hallways for an empty room and she finally did find one but was soon interrupted but Jae Beom and his crew. His smile was bright and he was so excited to see her.

"Y/nnie!"

"Oppa!" she squealed. Her sad aura was now replaced with happiness at the sight of her favorite older brothers. She quickly run over and age each of them hugs while saying hello.

"What are you doing here so late? Where are your brothers?" He asked dropping his practice bag and walking back over to her. He pulled her in a hug once again. Although they worked in the same company they barely saw each other due to schedules and stuff.

"Han wasn't feeling well so they are taking care of him and I decided to come practice," She explained. The boys were now all paying close attention to her.

"Ahhh I see! Can we join you?" Mark asks. His hands were in his pockets and they all didnt have makeup on so it meant that they were also here just for free practice.

"Yes sure, I need company anyway," She smiled and headed over to the laptop that was by the speakers. "What should we start with?"

"Can you teach us S-class? Its so hard and we've been trying to learn it," Jackson pouts and raffles her hair,

"Yeah the hand movement is impossible!" Jinyoung chirps in.

She giggled at this because they all reminded her so much of her little brothers back at home when S-class had just come out. "Sure, I can its not that hard," the groans in response made her laugh fill the room so she just played the song and they all run through it as she taught them step by step and by the time they were done, it was 1 in the morning. ONE IN THE MORNING? fuck.

She quickly took out her phone from her bag and looked at it to see thousands of missed calls and (as if in cue) that's when Hyunjin and I.N slammed the door open. they were both panicked and Hyunjins phone was ringing alot while I.N was frantic talking to someone of his phone.

"There you are!" Hyunjin exclaimed panting and huffing. "We've been calling, texting and even fucking tracking your phone, why wouldn’t you tell us your here? This is extremely dangerous Y/n! Oh my God!"

"Y/nnie! do you know how worried we were?! Chan hyung and Leeknow hyung are on some road screaming your name looking for you everywhere," I.N yells at her causing her to jump at the sudden loud voices.

"My phone was off, I was just practicing here-" she tried to explain but was interrupted immediately. 

"Okay, it doesn’t matter now, let's go home, we were worried sick, hang on...grab your stuff," he got out his phone and started talking to someone that sounded like Chan. With the way Hyunjin was cringing she knew she was dead meat. 

She quickly grabbed my Bags, her laptop and quickly said bye to everyone who were also as terrified as she was but they totally understood and told her to just be safe and to text them. She quickly made her way behind Hyunjin and I.N who were towering over her. Once hyunjin hang up the phone finally, he slowed down so he was walking by her side.

"Never do that again please,"

"But I was just with my friends,"

"You know we don't trust you in a room full men," he softly says ruffling his hands through her hair.

"Yeah I know, I know. I'm in shit, i've accepted it," she groaned but remembered the only reason she was in this mess, "Is Hannie okay now?"

"Yeah he is and he wants to talk to you," She look up at him confused. Her heart jumping. 

"What about?" she asked on a confused tone. Hyunjin glances over at I.N who gulps. They both look at eachother as if communicating.

"Felix said that you were upset-"

"I wasn't upset really," She quickly explained.

"Oh well now you can explain that to him anyway but right now those are your least of your worries cause Chan is going to kill you in cold blood," I.N takes of his jacket and hands it to her. she was freezing and she was wearing a tank top but luckily I.N had a hoodie and jacket on.

Ugh. She sighed softly when they arrived to the house. She stopped causing the boys to look at her confused. Her worries and sadness came washing over her. With the way she had fun at the studio with her other brothers she had totally forgotten the depression she was facing at home.

She took a deep breath (quite dramatically) earning a chuckle from both boys and she walked up the stairs into the house where Chan and Leeknow were Ofcourse sitting on the dining table with a coffee mug both. She couldn't even sneak past them which was her only hope in avoiding them. She quickly turned around but was met with Hyunjins chest. sigh.

"Stop, turn around and sit," Chan voice was loud meaning he was serious. she quickly followed his instructions and sat on the chair across both of them.

"What time is it?" He squints his eyes and looks at her.

"1:30 Oppa," she sighed and looked down at her fingers. 

"Why would you leave the house without letting us know? What if something had happened and we didn't know-"

"Your always scolding me and not treating me like an adult," she snapped at him. This made Hyunjin stop in his tracks and turned back and I.N  paused whatever he was doing to over at them. Never ever did she snap at the boys especially chan because she loved them and they were older than her so she was so respectful. This was a shock and the gasp that left leeknows lips was evidence.

"That's not true I always treat you like an adult," Chan defended himself. 

"You don't Oppa! You don't get it, just because I'm 19 doesn't mean I'm a kid, I'm only one year younger than I.N and he gets treated like an adult, everything I do you guys have to be there watching and whenever you guys have conversations I'm pushed to the side. Yes I get I'm a girl and I'm young but it doesn't mean I'm not part of the team, I'm allowed to walk out the house right now if I wanted to, if I wanted a babysitter I would have hired you a long time," 

"Y/n dont raise your voice at hyung like that. Its not right," Leeknows eyes were red. he was pissed off and it was clear. 

"Dont talk to me like that Y/n. If you have a problem you tell me, you dont yell. Look at me when im talking to you," She looked up at him. He looked tired, frustrated and mad. He had to first deal with Han...now this?

"fine sorry," she was done. she was done with this conversation, she was done with the boys, she was done with everything. She stood up and stormed out the room. Chan following right behind her 

"We're not done here young lady, You think i want this? you think i want to constantly be checking on you? you think i want to be. You keep acting childish thats why i have to keep tabs on you!" with every second he was getting louder and louder. 

"Chan dont, lets go calm down-" leeknow grabs his arm trying to keep him away.

"Y/n go to your room," Changbin interferes trying to break the two up. 

"See!" she exclaimed and walked into her room shutting it and locking it.

[igotanidea]

Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader

SMUT MDNI!

As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD

***

Y/N was fuming.

For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.

Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--

Fuck.

She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.

Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.

Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 

She needed him. 

With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.

Jason ...

Come home...

Can't you sense how much I want you now...

She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 

***

That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.

Y/n…

Was that feeling because she was in danger?

Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?

Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.

It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.

Y/n….

***

He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?

“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”

“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.

“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.

“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.

“Shut up…”

“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch

“Shut up, Jason!”

“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”

“At what?”

“Girls!”

“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.

“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”

“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk

“Jason!”

 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”

“Stupid internet.”

“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”

“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.

“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”

“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”

“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .

“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“

“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.

“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”

“It did not!”

Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.

“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”

His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.

“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.

“Mmm. Tease.”

“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.

And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.

“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.

“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.

Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.

“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”

His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.

“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.

With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.

Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 

Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.

And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.

“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.

“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.

“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.

“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.

Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.

“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.

“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.

“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.

“Who’s ruining the moment now?”

“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”

“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.

“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  

“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.

The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.

Jason and Y/n.

Y/n and Jason.

Together.

Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.

“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.

“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.

***

“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.

“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”

“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”

“It depends on—”

“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”

“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart

“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”

“How about we both stay ourselves?”

“Works for me.”

Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hey Love! So my Idea is Tyler and Y/n come back from a chase and Y/n still has adrenaline from it and Tyler let's her Use him. It can be anything smutty (blowjob from Y/n I beg of you) And fluffy whatever works best for you. The Hat stays on her too. 😉

Leftover Adrenaline » Tyler Owens

Pairings: Boyfriend!Tyler Owens x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You have some adrenaline leftover from tornado chasing when you and Tyler get home and Tyler lets you use it in the best way possible.

Warnings: Smut (18+), Fluff, language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, blowjob, unprotected sex, riding, praise kink, orgasm denial, spanking (a couple times), Tyler’s cowboy hat, pet names

A/N: This is my first Tyler Owens request and thank you @cevansbaby-dove for requesting it🩷

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Home sweet home.” Tyler says, dropping his bag on the floor and fell back onto the bed.

You and Tyler just got home from chasing tornados in Oklahoma. You followed suit, laying down next to him. You snuggled yourself against his side and laid your head on his chest. Tyler wrapped his arm around you, rubbing his hand up and down your side. You two laid in silence and enjoyed each other’s company in the comfort of yours and his home.

“We should really get cleaned up before we get too lazy.” Tyler says, kissing the top of your head.

“Or…” You sat up, grinning down at your boyfriend. “We could do something fun.” You suggested seductively.

“Oh?” He muses at the thought. “What do you have in mind, sugar?” He asks.

“It involves us naked and making each other feel good.” You say, playing with Tyler’s belt buckle.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” He says.

You and Tyler got off the bed and stripped off your clothes. You seen his cowboy hat on the dresser after you took your panties off. You grinned to yourself and grabbed it, putting it on your head. Tyler couldn’t help but admire you naked with his cowboy hat on your head. Yes, he has seen you naked while wearing his cowboy hat many times, but he always can’t help but admire the sight of it.

You walked up to Tyler and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. You lightly bit his bottom lip, which drives him crazy when you do that. It’s one of his many turn ons.

“Sit down on the edge of the bed for me, cowboy.” You say seductively in almost a whisper.

“Yes, ma’am.” Tyler says, his accent thick.

Tyler sat down on the edge of the bed. He expected you to sit on his lap, but you didn’t. You sunk down on your knees in front of him. He watched you intently when you wrapped your hand around his cock.

“That one night in my truck wasn’t enough for you, darling?” He teases.

“No.” You practically whined. “I want more.” You say.

“Go for it, sweetheart.” He says.

Your tongue kitten licked his tip, moaning when his precum was on your tongue. You suckled on his tip while stroking the rest of his cock in your hand. Tyler adjusted his cowboy hat on your head just enough so he could see your face. You then put his whole cock in your mouth, gagging a little bit when his tip touched the back of your throat.

“Fuck…” Tyler moans.

You bobbed your head steadily while your hands on his thighs to keep yourself steady. You managed to breathe through your nose as you sucked his cock.

“Such a good girl.” Tyler praises.

You moaned at his praise. You love it when he praises you and Tyler knows it too.

Tyler bit his bottom lip when an idea popped into his head.

“Put your hands behind your back.” Tyler tells you. “You’re not gonna be touching me for a while.” He says.

You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head just enough so you were looking up at him.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He says more dominantly.

You moaned when you heard the dominance in his voice. You obeyed him and put your arms behind your back. Tyler’s hand caressed your cheek as you did so.

“Good girl.” He praises, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. “Following commands like a good girl always does.” He says.

You rubbed your thighs together for some kind of relief the more he praised you, feeling even more turned on than you were a moment ago.

You and Tyler always finds ways to spice up yours and his sex life. Tyler telling you to put your hands behind your back and not to touch him are a new ones for the both of you. Your hands felt a bit fidgety. It took everything in you to not touch him. Tyler even noticed how fidgety your hands are, aching to touch him.

“I know what you’re thinking, darlin’. Don’t do it or you’ll get punished.” Tyler says warningly.

You huffed through your nose. You continued to sucked his cock, trying your best to not touch him. Your eyes began to water when his tip hit the back of your throat. You blinked your watery eyes, trying to focus on making your boyfriend cum. You focused on the thought of wanting to ride Tyler after you make him cum. So you bobbed your head faster so that could happen.

“Fuck…” Tyler moans, tilting his head back.

The more you bobbed your head, the faster Tyler’s orgasm built up. You could sense it with the way his cock throbbed against your tongue. Tyler’s breathing got heavier, pleasure taking over him the closer he got to coming.

“Fuck, darlin’.” He moans, looking down at you.

Your eyes flickered up at him. You had an innocent look in your eyes. Tyler loves that look. It makes him go crazy. Your name fell from his lips when he came in your mouth. Your movements came to a slow stop before you slowly took your mouth off of his cock and swallowed his cum.

“Fuck…” He breathes, trying to catch his breath.

You stood up from the floor. Your knees were red from how long you were on the floor. You got on Tyler’s lap, straddling him. His cock was against your pussy. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“What did I say about touching me?” He asks.

“Not too, but-” You stopped talking when he gave you a warning look.

You pouted as your hands fell from his shoulders. Tyler smirks at you. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hands against your soft skin before slowly moving his hands to your ass, shamelessly squeezing your ass cheeks, making you gasp.

He then rose you up just enough so your pussy was just above his cock. He held his cock at the base and lined it at your entrance. He brought you down on his cock, making you moan and tilt your head back at the feeling.

“How am I supposed to ride you if I can’t touch you?” You asked.

“You’ll figure it out, sugar.” Tyler says with a smirk.

You sighed softly and pouted again. You steadied yourself on your knees before rising yourself up and going back down. Tyler’s hands found their place back on your hips as you rode him.

“There you go. Good girl.” He praises, watching you ride him. “I knew you’d figure it out.” He says.

You managed to ride him at a decent pace without touching him. You were so tempted to put your hands on his shoulders as you rode him, but that means you’ll be touching him and you don’t want to disobey him. So you tried your best to keep yourself steady on your knees while riding him.

“You always look so pretty riding my cock, sugar.” Tyler says.

You moaned at his dirty words. His dirty words always get you going.

Tyler kissed along your neck, biting your skin hard enough to mark you up while his hands played with your breasts. His thumbs circled your nipples before pinching them, catching you off guard and sending a tingling sensation through your body.

“Oh, Tyler!” You moaned loudly.

Tyler smirked against your neck and pinched your nipples again, earning the same reaction from you. While Tyler’s hands roamed your body, you were jealous that you couldn’t touch him. That’s all you wanted to do. To keep yourself from touching him, you put your hands on the tops of your thighs. Other than that, your mind was focused on riding him.

One of his hands went down to your pussy and began to rub your clit and painfully slow and teasing circles. You whined, wanting more. Tyler chuckles to himself. He loves teasing you and challenging you during sex. He applied a little bit of pressure on your clit as he rubbed it.

“Please, Ty!” You whined. “More, please!” You begged.

“You sound so cute when you beg.” Tyler coos.

You whined again. That’s when Tyler gave you more. His fingers rubbed your clit faster, making your jaw drop and a string of moans leave your lips.

“Is this what you mean by more?” He teasingly asks.

Instead of using your words to answer him, you hummed and nodded your head yes. Your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted back, enjoying the feeling of his cock in your pussy and his fingers rubbing your clit. You didn’t even feel Tyler’s cowboy hat fall off of your head when you tilted your head back. You were too focused on the pleasure you were receiving and your orgasm beginning to build up.

“Ty, I’m getting close.” You tell him.

“Hold it.” Tyler says.

You opened your eyes and lifted your head, looking at your boyfriend.

“But-” You were cut off.

“I said hold it.” He repeats. “I’ll punish you if you cum.” He warns.

You huffed and continued riding him. Your orgasm was building up more and more. You tried your best to not cum, but you weren’t sure how much more you could take. The way his cock felt in your pussy as you rode him and the way his fingers rubbed your clit made it impossible. It wasn’t a need or want to cum. You have to at this point.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned in a pornographic manner.

Pleasure washed over you as you came on his cock. Your bouncing movements came to a stop. You were breathing heavily while Tyler’s cock remained in your pussy. Tyler stared at you, patiently waiting for you to catch your breath.

When you caught your breath, you shyly bit your bottom lip when you realized you disobeyed Tyler’s orders when he told you to not cum, but you did anyway. Without any warning, Tyler lifted you off of his cock and laid you down on your stomach on the bed next to him. You looked over your shoulder, watching Tyler position himself behind you.

“You disobeyed me, darling.” Tyler lifted your hips so your ass was in the air. “Now, I have to punish you.” He says.

“But-” A yelp left your lips when Tyler landed a harsh smack on your ass.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he rubbed his cock against your pussy. Tyler slid his cock in your pussy without any warning, but he did left you adjust to his size. After a short moment, he started thrusting. His thrusts were hard, but also loving. Tyler put his hand on the middle of your upper back, pushing your upper body against the mattress.

“All you had to do was be a good girl and not cum, but you decide to cum anyway.” Tyler says.

“I-I’m sorry, Ty.” You stuttered and moaned.

“Too late for that, darlin’.” His voice is husky. “Now, take your punishment like a good girl.” He says.

His hips snapped against your ass every time he thrusted. His thrusting pace increased, fucking you a little faster than when he started. His free hand was on your ass cheek, squeezing your soft skin or pinching it every now and then.

“You wouldn’t be getting punished if you would’ve just listened to me, darlin’.” Tyler says.

Tyler’s hand let go of your ass cheek, only to smack it harshly. You moaned at the feeling. It stung, but it also felt good.

“Tyler!” You moaned in a whiny voice.

Tyler loves it when you’re whiny for him. It turned him on even more than he already is.

A loud moan left your lips when his cock hit your sweet spot perfectly. Your eyes nearly rolled back to the back of your head.

His hand that’s on the middle of your back slowly made its way to the front of your body. Tyler’s fingers blindly felt for your clit, finding it with ease. He began rubbing your clit in a circular motion. Without realizing it, you reached a hand between your legs, putting your hand on his fingers that are rubbing your clit to keep them there.

“What did I say about touching me, darlin’?” Tyler asks, taking his fingers off of your clit.

“Not to touch you.” You muttered, taking your hand away.

“Then be a good girl and keep it that way.” He says.

Since you couldn’t touch him, your hands grasped onto the sheets beneath you and clenched the fabric in your hands.

“Atta girl.” He patted your hip. “If you keep your hands there and be a good girl, maybe… just maybe, I’ll let you cum.” He says.

“Ok, Ty.” You managed to reply without moaning.

Tyler sped up his thrusts. His cock was hitting all of the right spots. That made your orgasm build up for a second time. Tyler could sense you were close again by the way your pussy was clenching around his cock. That triggered his orgasm.

“Fuck…” Tyler grunts, almost growling.

Anytime you heard Tyler grunt in pleasure like that is when he’s about to cum. That’s going to be any second by the way he’s fucking you. His hand tightened his grip on your hip when his orgasm kept building up even more. He then came inside of you, cursing loudly and painting your walls with his cum. A white ring formed at the base of his cock as he continued to fuck you.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Tyler says, finally giving you permission.

You moaned his name loudly and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came for a second time. You came harder than the first time. Your legs were trembling. Tyler fucked you through your orgasm. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out of you and laid down next to you.

“Fuck…” He breathes, trying to catch his breath.

“Yea…” You agreed.

You two laid in silence for a moment and tried to catch your breaths before Tyler spoke up.

“We should take a shower now.” He says, referring to how sweaty and messy you two are.

“Can’t move.” You muttered softly.

Your legs felt like jelly at the moment and you weren’t sure if you could get off of the bed. That’s how good Tyler fucked you.

“I’ll carry ya, sugar.” He says.

Tyler got off of the bed and stood up. You managed to move to the edge of the bed so he can pick you up bridal style and carry you to the bathroom.

“I love you, cowboy.” You say softly.

“I love you too, darlin’.” Tyler says, kissing your lips sweetly.

🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️

Glen Powell characters tags: @cevansbaby-dove @djs8891 @love2write2626 @bunbunbl0gs

[tojikai]

Permanent Mark⁺ : FORLORN

Grateful to @mikeyslvrr for commissioning and for the support~♡

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Permanent Mark Masterlist

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, death, mentions of pregnancy, implied suicide

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this alternate storyline imagines what could have happened if Y/N had faced a different fate.

He's merely a ghost, beseeching to be haunted by your echoes.

I’ll make things right. I shouldn’t be too late, right? My Y/N and I will be fine. The moment she wakes up, I will apologize. I’ll tell her I messed things up. That I made the wrong decision. That I’m coming home with her. That I’ll never leave again. 

We’re gonna make it. 

We’re gonna make it. 

We’re gonna make it. 

“She didn’t make it.” 

Satoru’s steps halted. The world halted. He's been pacing back and forth in the hospital corridor. Despite the chaos of the people coming in and out of the hospital, the voices bouncing on the white walls, and the cries of families who want nothing but to go home with their loved ones, the ticking of Satoru’s wristwatch is still the loudest. 

It felt like every second added another boulder on his shoulder, making it harder to drag his feet on the tiled walls. Rie looked like she’d been awake all night when they’d only been here for a couple of minutes. Satoru could almost feel the blood behind his eyes, his nerves waiting to burst and he would be covered in it. 

Covered in blood, drenched in guilt, weighed down by regrets.

The doctor’s words reverberated inside his head. The roof of his mouth felt strangely hot as he heard cries behind him. Then, he was tackled to the ground. He didn’t even try to fight back, he just welcomed each blow that his best friend threw on his face, growling “You fucking bastard,” He could hear Rie screaming and his vision blurring as he struggled to stand up, “Y/N, let me see my Y/N.” It was an incoherent murmur as he tried to get to her door.

He was a bit dizzy from the blow and his knees were too weak to fight back. He felt like a bird with tied wings as two people restrained him from going to the room. Satoru could tell that his nose was bleeding but this is nothing compared to losing you. 

The irreversibility of his mistakes is now staring him right in the face and he has no choice but to stare back.

He can hear Suguru cursing him out while his tears bring forth realizations: Your parents were inside, after a long time of absence and months of separation from you, this is the first time that they’re seeing you again, not even breathing. The last thing you’d remember of them was how they never cared, neglecting you until you lost colors.

And Satoru… the last thing you'll remember of him will be his anger, his hatred, and the pain he caused you by turning your years of love into dust. The last thing you'll remember of him will be how he put someone else above you, even though he was the summit of your world.

The last thing you’ll remember is being unloved. By your family. By the man you love. 

Satoru tried to claw his way past the arms that were holding him back, begging for just a glimpse. He cannot believe that it’s true unless he sees you. But even if he does…his brain and his heart wouldn’t allow him to believe it too. The next thing made everything impossible for him as he lost strength in all of his limbs and eventually blacked out.

“Y/N.” He called out one last time before closing his eyes. 

—---------------------------------

Earlier

You can hear your sobs, and your heartbeats are like loud knocks in your ears. You sped up, vision spinning but this is nothing compared to the throbbing pain in your chest. You want to go as fast as you can, believing that maybe then your wheels would burn and dry all the tears that are running down your face. Everything around you was softened by the pools in your eyes.

Even the setting sun looked like a watercolor painting before you, the second brightest thing in your world.

You bit your lip to control your sadness from spilling out. You want to block out the words he said to you, you want to forget how he looked at you there. How those eyes you still love so much now look at you with such reproach, almost disdainful. Even at that moment, they still look so vibrant, enough to color a town. You let out a strained gasp, grasping your shirt as you come to a realization:

You will be stuck in this monochrome box as he paints someone else’s home. 

Before you knew it, the sun had disappeared and there was only darkness in front of you. You blinked away your tears but it didn’t work. Where am I driving? You asked yourself but it was too late to hit the brakes. For a very short moment—a split second even—your flesh trembled before you heard a loud crash. 

And then there was nothing. The sun was eaten up by that darkness in front of you and engulfed you along with it. Your body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you. You hear voices but the sound is distorted when they reach your ears. You couldn’t move. Slowly, you felt like you were sinking to the ground. The noises were getting faint and you could barely feel your heartbeat in your chest.

You slipped in and out of your consciousness, each time more chaotic than the last. There was the sound of the siren and a white dancing light pointing directly into your eyes. You can barely feel the air entering your lungs. Am I dying? You wanted to ask but your body was too numb. 

If you are, this is going to be your second death today. 

—---------------------------------

“Just let me be with her for a bit, Ma'am. Please,” Satoru didn't stop the tears from coming as he begged your mother. He knows he doesn't deserve it; he doesn't deserve to mourn you but there's nothing he wouldn't do. After everything that happened at the party, it all felt like a nightmare to him; something so unreal that up until now he still refuses to believe it.

His mother was with him during the burial, as he begged on his knees for a last moment. But your parents weren’t as soft as you. Even as he looked into your kind father’s eyes, he couldn’t find an ounce of pity. Why would he feel sorry for the man who tore his daughter apart? Out of all the hurtful things your mother has said, your father’s last words to Satoru are the ones that scarred him the deepest. It will haunt his ghost til its next life:

“I hope your guilt doesn’t consume you as completely as my daughter’s love for you did to her.”

Finding out about your pregnancy was another knife, twisting in his chest. The fact that you never found out was another bullet to his heart. So, you weren’t the only one he abandoned that day. Your heart wasn’t the only one he broke. It wasn’t just your own sadness you were carrying inside you but the unborn future’s lamentation too. 

Til the very end, the people looked at him as nothing but a man with clean hands and a blood-stained shirt. “Come to think of it, even in her last moments she saved you.” Suguru spat at his face when they ran into each other during the funeral. The main reason for the accident was your alcohol intoxication. But Suguru knows too damn well why it all happened.

The only one that wept with him was the sky. The thunders screamed the same accusations at him. The people will see his cries as tears of guilt but no one will understand how his heart died with you in that hospital bed. No one will know how the things he did will forever sleep with him under his pillows, hammering words into his head.

Rie is a strong woman, watching him on his knees, bawling his eyes out as he screamed his love for you to nothingness. She’s a tough woman, entering his room only to hear him label his relationship with her as a mistake, wailing for a do-over. She’s a brave woman who holds him in her arms, whispering her love for him only to be answered with murmurs of I’m sorry’s.

Rie is strong, but a month is too long to stay with someone who will forever yearn for another.

She was hoping for him to stop her, maybe just ask her to give him time, it wouldn’t have mattered how long but he never did. “I’m sorry.” He said, nodding as he traced the mouth of his cup. “Will you be fine?” She asked, first, out of concern and second, to allow a bit of time in hopes that he’d change his mind.

“No, but it’s alright.” He spoke, eyes void of emotion. They almost looked more grey rather than blue now. “Whatever that has happened is on me. I shouldn't have even let it happen.” She knows that he’s not just referring to the accident. His blunt confession of how his relationship with her was a mistake sends a chill down her spine and an ache in her entire being.

How could he so openly tell her that he regrets being with her? 

She guessed it was a small price to pay for taking part in breaking someone’s heart. And the larger bill was outside, lurking as she was faced with whispers in every company she tried working on, the continuous ringing of the numbers she called, and the neverending hours of one-sided conversations with her friends.

The rust of guilt will eat away at her bones as she tries to crawl back to where she came from.

Shoko was never the one to hold grudges. But for the longest time, she couldn’t talk to Satoru. She’d find herself spending most of her free time with you, even if she never got answers. Then she’d leave again like she always did before. If she regrets something, it’d be not being to be with you as much as she should be as a friend. Her job doesn’t allow for much time for rest.

Just like how it doesn’t allow enough time for mourning. 

“You need to start continuing your life. You’re just insulting Y/N being like that now.” She looked away as she lit a cigarette. She called Satoru over to her clinic today, worried about how his mother called her crying when he wouldn’t answer his phone. It’s almost been a year since your passing and she could barely recognize him. 

“Do you know where Suguru is?” He asked, voice hoarse as he licked his cracked lips. Shoko was grateful that his mother chose to take over his business. It’ll only fall down with him like this. He was breathing but barely alive. “Do not try to talk to him.” That’s the only thing she said, but Satoru already understands.

Suguru didn’t want to blame his friend when he was obviously devastated too. But hearing the doctor’s words that day, the first thing he thought of was that if Satoru hadn’t provoked it, you wouldn’t have left and driven drunk. He’d sound selfish if he said he was the most crushed of them all but how else does he cope with a loss of a love that never began?

The last time he’s been to your grave was on the burial day. He never went back again. He thought that maybe if he didn’t see it as much, his mind wouldn’t think of it like that. Maybe his mind wouldn’t remember your death. Maybe he can fool himself into thinking you’re just somewhere far away, working at your mother’s company.

“You don’t get to feel sad. You don’t get to feel sad as much as I do. Not when you already killed her before she even died in that accident.” He pulled at his friend's collar as tears streamed down their faces. “You don’t get to feel sad after what you’ve done, Satoru.” Suguru fears that even after years, he’d still feel resentment for his friend.

“If you weren’t planning on treating her well, you should’ve just let me love her instead, Satoru.” He let his shirt go along with the emotions he was hiding. “If you weren’t planning on keeping her, you should’ve just left her alone.” He whispered, stepping away as he turned his back to him, regaining his composure. This man is grieving too, he reminded himself.

The grief was heavier than the sea of blue in his eyes.

He looked so drained, like he died along with you and maybe he did, because staring into his eyes, Suguru couldn’t find his best friend anymore. When confronted by the uncontrollable materialization of the consequences of their actions, humans deteriorate from the inside.

He wanted to hug him, to cry with him, and let him put some of his heaviest feelings on him but he couldn't. “Live well, Satoru. Y/N wouldn’t want you like this,” He sniffed, running a hand down his face as he turned to his friend again, tapping his shoulder before stepping out. 

It’s so hard to feel bad for someone who brought the tragedy upon themselves.

Years will pass and Satoru remains the same, an empty skeleton of who he was before, a vessel of memories and the love you generously left, a cage of regret, guilt, and suffering that he harvested from bad seeds that he planted. “It shall pass,” The doctor said, passing him a blister pack, “You’ll feel better with time.” It just makes him want to laugh. The man doesn’t understand that what he needs can’t be found in this world.

He would lie awake for hours, with exhaustion gnawing at him but still his eyes remained stubbornly open. Reality was punishing him by keeping him awake, blocking out his only means of escape and portal to you. Drinking wasn’t a solution, it was more of a problem. There was this one time that he drank so much, he thought he was seeing you. 

His mother found him on his knees, his forehead touching the floor as he begged you to come back, apologizing to the air as his tears hit the tiles of his house. It’s no use, you will never come back and even then, his hallucinations of you were inanimate, unmoving, and cold. 

He gazed at a jar filled with wilting flowers on the table—some had lost their color, while others were on the verge of fading. Standing up, he fetched a new one in his jacket’s pocket and cut off its stem before carefully placing it with the others.

These flowers came from the bouquets that he left on your grave. Each time he’d visit, he’d take one flower with him and keep it in this jar. It’s his way of coping, thinking that he still has a piece of you with him. It felt both comforting and painfully inadequate. Satoru doubts that anything will ever change in his life. Even if each person on Earth introduces someone or something new to him, nothing will fill the void.

Satoru wondered if you saw him as others do: merely guilty, not genuinely in love. It’d be another blow to his already beaten-up heart. Listening to the ticking of the clock, his shadow cast on the wall of his room. The quiet was eerie; it had been for years. This house had lost its colors long ago. 

It is during these times when he remembers how you’d spent sleepless nights together, just soaking in the presence of one another. Maybe if he sleeps, he’d dream of how you used to rest your head on his chest. Taking the last of his pill, Satoru stared at his ceiling one last time.

As he closed his eyes, he prayed to wake up beside you. 

Permanent Mark Masterlist

[girlgenius1111]

give yourself a reason

engen!reader memories, and the present. changes. sol reflects on how different her life is now. good different. even if getting to the good was hard. here she is.

warnings: discussions of depression. sol gets into a fight. with people, and then a mug and a picture frame so, some blood.

------

It was a bit of a deja vu moment, honestly. You were sitting in the dean’s office once again, only a couple months after the last time. Then, you had been pretending you didn’t care. A lot had happened since, and a casualty of the progress you’d made was that you could no longer pretend not to care. You did care. You cared so much, you thought you might throw up. 

You’d begged them not to call Ingrid. Begged. They had anyway. You couldn’t help but worry about her reaction to this most recent fight, though it hadn’t been your fault. You hadn’t been in trouble since everything had happened, and you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Would everything change? Would Ingrid still want you? Every set back you had, every mistake you made, had you convinced that Ingrid was going to change her mind, and send you back to Norway. You were working on it, thinking of yourself as worthy of their love, but it wasn’t easy, and you felt your eyes stinging with tears that had nothing to do with the beating your face had taken. 

You weren’t sure you could go back to not feeling loved, not when you’d been experiencing something so different recently. The dean didn’t seem to care that your face was rapidly swelling, that you were crying, or that you hadn’t stopped bouncing your knee since you’d been brought into the office. He’d already let the boys go with a warning. He hadn’t even called their parents. You didn’t know what to do when Ingrid arrived, didn’t know whether to try to explain, or to stay quiet and just take your punishment. 

You felt so weak, suddenly. Crying, in front of this absolute asshole? Normally, you’d never let a person you didn’t know well see you this emotional, but your face really hurt, and honestly, you just wanted a hug. You were pretty terrified, though, that you wouldn’t get one. 

That you didn’t deserve one. 

The speaker in the office crackled to life, then, and the secretary’s voice rang out into the room. “Ms. Engen’s guardian is here.” 

The dean took a break from glaring at you to hit the button on the speaker. “Send her in.” 

You directed your gaze at the ground and tried to make yourself as small as possible, hearing the door open behind you.

“Mi sol, are you okay?” Mapi said instantly, moving quickly into the room and crouching down next to your chair. You refused to look at her, and she knew she had to be careful about this. Mapi showing up instead of Ingrid was a relief, but only for a moment. Then, you were just worried that she was too mad to come get you. 

“I was expecting the elder Ms. Engen,” the principal began, though he was quickly interrupted by your sister’s girlfriend. 

“Ingrid couldn’t get away from work, and I am a guardian too. Her face is bleeding, and her hands. Has she been seen by the nurse?” Mapi asked bitingly, scowling at the man on the other side of the desk. 

He looked a little put out. “Well, no, we were-” 

“Jesus, she could have a concussion.” Mapi snapped, her gentle hand on your back completely contradicting her sharp tone.   

“I don’t think-” 

Mapi ignored his response completely, slowly moving her hand up and down your back. You were shaking, and Mapi knew that if she wanted to avoid a panic attack, she had to do something, soon. 

“Mi sol?” she asked in a much softer tone, frowning when you shook your head. You knew if you looked at Mapi you’d burst into tears, and you absolutely did not want to do that in front of the dean. 

Mapi thought for a minute, before she turned back to the man. “Can we have a minute please.”

It wasn’t really posed as a question, and the man frowned at Mapi before nodding somewhat indignantly and walking out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, you looked up, breaking Mapi’s heart with the terrified look on your face, and the rough sob that fell from your lips.  

“Oh, nena,” Mapi sighed, seeing the extent of the damage to your face for the first time. It was mostly bruises and a very swollen lip. Your knuckles were swollen, too, but there were very few cuts on your face, and for that, she was glad. Mapi’s hands flitted over your face, her own scrunched with worry. “I’m so sorry this happened.” 

“Is Ingrid mad? Is that why she isn’t here?” You choked out.

Mapi shook her head, carefully wiping a tear off your face. “No, no, she couldn’t get away from training. She isn’t mad, I promise, she sent me to come bring you to her so she could see you were okay.” 

“Are you sure she’s not mad?” 

“I promise, cariño. She is not mad at you.” Mapi replied seriously. “Tell me what happened.” 

“They came at me, Mapi, I promise I didn’t start it.” You cried, almost pleading with her to believe you. 

“I believe you, I believe you.” The Spaniard soothed. “Where are they?” 

“He let them go with a warning.” You told her, watching as her face hardened. She seemed to think for a minute, before she stood, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you to your sister. Ingrid and I will come back later to speak to the dean and see the security footage. Venga.” 

“Mapi, I’m in trouble,” you tried to tell her, but she just shook her head. 

“Not with us. We’ll deal with it later, I promise. I want to get you taken care of and calmed down first, and I don’t think I can do that here.” Mapi told you gently, pulling you out of the room when you nodded hesitantly. You hadn’t realized you were shaking intensely until Mapi had mentioned getting you calmed down. You supposed you were getting close to a panic attack, and just hadn’t noticed. 

You continued to tune out as Mapi led you out of the office, standing in front of you protectively when she addressed the dean. 

“Ingrid and I will be back later to discuss the situation. We’re leaving now.” She told him. 

He looked at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “She can’t just leave, we have to discuss her punishment.” 

“We can discuss it later.” Mapi repeated, turning without another word towards the door, guiding you out of the school. 

Once you were out the door, Mapi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, steadying your shaky steps. “Alright, we’re almost to the car, just hang on, okay?” 

You could only nod in response, starting to lose yourself in your head, clinging tightly onto Mapi. Time seemed to speed up, or skip ahead entirely as suddenly you found yourself in the passenger seat of the car, your sister’s girlfriend buckling your seatbelt for you. 

“In and out, nena. Just breathe. Everything is okay. No one is upset with you.” Mapi was saying, waiting for you to give a faint nod before she made her way over to the driver's side door. It was quiet in the car save for the hum of the engine and the gasping inhales and exhales coming from you every few seconds. 

“Tell me what you’re worried about.” Mapi instructed, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ingrid- Ingrid is gonna be mad and make me go back to Norway,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as another wave of panic washed over you.

“That is not going to happen.” Mapi said confidently, grabbing her phone and clicking Ingrid’s contact. Her girlfriend picked up astoundingly quickly considering she was supposed to be training, and her voice over the phone made you both terrified and reassured at the same time. 

“We’re in the car, she was too upset, we can come talk to the dean later.”

“What do you mean she’s too upset? Is she okay?” Ingrid asked worriedly. 

“Talk to her.” Mapi instructed, holding the phone out to you. You looked at her pleadingly, but she just nodded encouragingly, eyes fixed on the road in front of her. “It’s okay, nena, just tell Ingrid what you told me.” 

Ingrid could tell when you took the phone, as she could suddenly hear your rapid breaths as you gulped in air and tried to get the words out. “Hey, it’s just me. You can tell me.” Ingrid said softly. 

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Mapi’s thumb tracing over the back of your hand instead of the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “M’ scared you’re mad and you’re going to send me back to Norway.” 

“I’m not mad. This wasn’t your fault, just like the last one wasn’t, and I am not angry with you. You are not going back to Norway. You are staying right here with me and Mapi. You’re okay, Solstråle, I promise.” 

“Okay.” You said, nodding your head as you replayed her words over and over in your head. “Okay.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. I have to go, but Mapi is bringing you over, okay? I’ll see you soon.” 

Mapi quickly bid her girlfriend a goodbye before hanging up, though her hand didn’t release yours for the rest of the car ride. 

Getting to the Barça grounds was somewhat of a blur, and before you knew it, Mapi was leading you to the pitch where Ingrid was running drills. When Ingrid spotted you, loitering on the sidelines, she spoke a few quick words to Jona before making her way over.. You were half hidden behind Mapi, which was no accident, but the concern on Ingrid’s face brought another round of tears to your eyes. You stepped forward anxiously, bottom lip beginning to wobble. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ingrid sighed, getting a quick look at the wounds on your face before you were barrelling into her and wrapping your arms tightly around your sister. “Hey, it’s okay.” She whispered, running her hand through your tangled hair in a soothing manner. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you blubbered. If you had been even a smidge calmer, you would have been embarrassed about sobbing into your sister’s training kit in front of most of the team. 

“Don’t apologize, Solstråle. Everything is okay.” She soothed, looking over your shoulder at Mapi, before pulling away from the hug to examine your face. She frowned deeply at the damage that had been inflicted, trying to shove her anger down. It would only scare you further, and you really didn’t need that right now. 

“It hurts,” you whimpered, flinching as Ingrid’s finger accidentally made contact with an already forming bruise. The way you were acting was so out of character for you, Ingrid felt her worry growing by the second. You were so upset, you were shaking and sobbing. It hadn’t really occurred to anyone how triggering this might be for you, what a reminder this fight would be. Not just of what had happened a few months ago, but of your time in Norway. There wasn’t a fight you’d gotten into that you didn’t have to take care of your own cuts and bruises. No one ever heard you out, no one was ever not mad at you. 

A fight had been the last straw before you were sent to Spain, and it was as if all the feelings you’d repressed during those occasions were flooding back through your body, until your nervous system was in overdrive. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid said again, trying to get your attention back on her. You hummed in response, forcing your eyes to focus on your sister. “Two options, okay? We can have the physios patch your face up, or we can go see a doctor. What would you prefer?”

It was something Mapi had read in her definitely-not-a-parenting parenting book. Giving you options in a situation you were anxious about forced you to calm down a bit, and choose. It gave you a sense of control, while still ensuring that you did what had to be done. 

“Physios.” You told her, after just a minute of consideration. “Go back to training, Ingrid. I’ll be okay.” 

You were trying to be brave, Ingrid could tell. She allowed you this façade, and with both an encouraging smile and a promise that she’d come see you in a minute, she ran back to the pitch. Mapi led you inside, her arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. 

The physios were a tolerable experience, completely allowing Mapi to direct them. They didn’t touch you unless you agreed, each time asking before they made sure your lip was okay, or inspected a forming bruise. You very rarely got to see intense Mapi off the pitch, and it was interesting to see it now. When she spoke to the physios, asking question after question about your injuries, she was dead serious. When she turned to you, though, to shoot you an encouraging smile or squeeze your hand, she was back to being the Mapi you knew. 

She took care of you like you were her own. 

------

Upon returning home, Ingrid refused to let you retreat to your room and hide yourself away. You’d spent too long alone, when you’d first arrived. She was going to support you, and she intended to prove that. 

So, you laid on the couch, your head in your sister’s lap, a Norwegian sitcom playing on the TV. Ingrid was holding ice to one of your eyes, glaring down at you anytime you tried to remove the other ice laid across your knuckles. Mapi was making pancakes in the kitchen, at your request. Scout was on the floor next to the couch, though he picked his head up to check on you every few minutes. 

You were home, and you couldn’t help but compare today to the last time.

Ingrid had come to the school, and been furious at you. Today, she was furious for you. 

They’d left you that night, to go off to some team dinner. Now, you weren’t quite sure that Ingrid was going to let you out of her sight for at least a few days. 

You’d been alone, then, and now you weren’t. 

And though today had been pretty horrific, it was another little reminder of how different everything was. You loved those reminders, and you got them often. You tried to remember each one, how good it felt. To be loved, to be seen. To be liked. To be cared for. It was new, and it always surprised you a little. Every time something happened, and you remembered what it had been like to be alone, Ingrid and Mapi were there to remind you that you weren’t anymore. 

-

-

-

It was just one of those days. 

You wanted to stay home, like you wanted to on that day. Before, when everything in the house had been tense and you’d barely spoken to your sister. School had been difficult back then, not that it wasn’t now, but more difficult. Ingrid knew how much you were struggling, but assumed it was a lack of effort on your part. And so, when you quietly asked her if you could stay home because you weren’t feeling the best, Ingrid hadn’t believed you. 

“Ingrid, please. I really don’t feel well.” You begged, fighting back the tears that were pricking at your eyes, even though you knew that they would probably help your case. 

“How? What doesn’t feel well?” Ingrid asked, trying to be patient. Your hatred of school was starting to bother her. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just try a little harder. At your work, and at making friends. 

You floundered for a minute, not sure how to describe what you were feeling. You supposed the word was depressed, but there was no way you’d admit to that. Ingrid didn’t need to worry about you like you knew she would if she understood what was really going on. At the same time, you wished desperately that she would see through your excuses. 

You’d been silent for too long, and Ingrid sighed, zipping up her bag for training and walking over to you. She didn’t look sympathetic, exactly, but she didn’t look as harsh as she normally did. 

“I know school is hard. But skipping isn’t going to make anything better, okay? You just need to try a little harder.” She said, resting her hands on your shoulders and looking intently at your face. As usual, your expression gave very little away. All you gave her was a small shrug, before you picked your bag up with a sigh and headed for the car. 

You were trying your best. How couldn’t she see that?

It hit you similarly today, as it had on that day.

 You wanted to lay in your bed and not move. Your body was heavier than normal. Breathing was hard, moving was harder. All you could do was think. And think, and think, and think. It wasn’t sadness that you felt, not necessarily. It was exhaustion, and an almost numb ache. 

You were pretty sure Ingrid wouldn’t make you go to school if you told her the truth, you just weren’t really sure what to say. It was nearing the time you were supposed to leave for school, though, and you still hadn’t gotten out of bed. It would only be a matter of time before Mapi came in to see why you hadn’t left your room yet. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, your whole body feeling too heavy, and you walked downstairs. 

Ingrid was in the kitchen, eating breakfast while Mapi made all three of your coffees. Your sister turned to look at you, her good morning dying on her lips when she saw the look on your face. It must have been pretty bad, if Ingrid’s reaction was any indication. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Ingrid asked, abandoning her breakfast to walk closer and place her hand on your forehead, checking for a fever. 

“No.” You said honestly, trying to breathe through the panic that always accompanied honesty. Mapi joined Ingrid in front of you, her brow creased in concern. She couldn’t figure out from looking at you what was going on, you just looked… wrong. Unlike yourself. 

“Are you sick?” 

“No. I just… I don’t feel right.” 

“What do you mean, Sol? What’s wrong?” Mapi asked, nudging Ingrid’s hand off your forehead to replace it with her own. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just want to go back to sleep.” You mumbled, a single tear falling down your face.

“Try to explain it to me?” Ingrid requested. You knew it was a request, though, and that made it easier to answer her. Her worry for you was coming off her in waves, and though you were pretty sure it was warranted, you didn’t want her to panic. 

“It’s just a bad day. I’ll be okay.”  

 Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances, before your sister nodded slowly. You often described tough mental health days as simply  bad days. You didn’t like to be overly descriptive, or really admit what was going on, and that was the closest you’d get. 

“Okay, kjære. Go back up to bed.” 

“Thanks,” you muttered, moving to turn away. 

“Wait,” Mapi said, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you into a hug that was probably too tight, but felt nice all the same. Mapi’s hugs were always comforting, always made you feel safe. “You’ll be okay here by yourself?” 

You knew what she was asking, and you tried to speak clearly, even with your chin resting on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “I will, promise.” 

As soon as Mapi had released you, Ingrid was pressing a kiss to your forehead, a gesture that never really failed to make you emotional. You remember seeing your parents kiss her forehead when you were growing up. And while your parents never really did the same with you, Ingrid had. She was always willing to give you the love she was overflowing with, especially when you were sorely lacking it. 

“I love you, okay? Call me if you need me.” Ingrid said firmly, almost as if to reinforce how much she meant it. 

You agreed, promising yourself that you wouldn’t interrupt training. You knew they’d already be distracted by being worried about you, and you didn’t want to ruin their day anymore than you already were. 

The logical part of you knew this was ridiculous. It was getting easier and easier to identify unhealthy thoughts, but a part of you still believed them. Especially when you were already having a bad day. You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already were. 

You were the farthest thing from a burden for Ingrid and Mapi, but it was an almost insurmountable challenge to actually believe that. 

-------

You’d hoped, perhaps, that by resting right off the bat, you’d escape the worst of the depressive episode. This was a naive thought. Or maybe, you would have if you’d asked your sister to stay home with you. 

You really really didn’t want to be alone. It had been a while since you hadn’t felt safe around yourself, but here you were again. You thought you were done with this, over this. It was upsetting to realize that you weren’t, not completely. That this wasn’t something you could just… get over. It was a result of your brain chemistry as much as your lived experiences, and you could be smothered with all the love in the world. That wouldn’t fix the genuine problem inside your head. 

You were asleep when Ingrid got home. 

Her and Mapi weren’t expecting you to call them, even if you needed them, but they had texted you during a break and gotten no answer. Mapi tried not to speed home, but it was difficult when Ingrid was an anxious mess next to her in the passenger seat. 

Upon arriving home, Ingrid dumped her bag right in the entry hall, not bothering to put it away like she normally did, and went right up to your room, sighing in relief at the sight of you in front of her. Mapi was right behind her, melting a bit at the way Scout was perched on the end of your bed protectively, and Bagheera was curled up against your chest. Both of them were taking care of you, she was sure. Bagheera would get a treat and some extra pets, for sure. And Scout would too, but when no one was looking. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

You awoke to the feeling of someone brushing their fingers through your hair. The reaction you had was different now than it had been a month ago, and Ingrid had done the same thing. Then, you’d startled awake, not used to the gentle touch. Now, you just shifted slightly, content to stay asleep as Ingrid settled on the bed next to you. 

You felt Scout get off the bed, and Mapi begrudgingly agree to take him on a walk. You knew she was faking her dislike of your dog at this point, but it was more fun to go along with it and catch her napping with Scout or giving him extra treats. 

It was only when the cat sneezed rather dramatically on your chest that you cracked an eye open, unimpressed with the lack of decorum from Bagheera. Ingrid was trying to stifle her laughter and you rolled your eyes, stretching and wiping the imaginary sneeze particles off your face. 

“Hi.” You murmured, voice rough with sleep… and with crying, but you were hoping to keep that to yourself. 

Ingrid smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the edges in the way they'd started to recently. It was something Mapi’s eyes did and while you weren’t sure how Ingrid had picked that up from her girlfriend, there was no question in your mind that she had. “Hi. How are you?” 

You shrugged, the momentary distractions from your feelings fading as everything came screeching back into focus. 

“Have you been crying?” Ingrid murmured, eyes stuck on the tear tracks staining your face. 

“A bit. I’m fine.” You replied, trying your best to shake off her concern. 

“You should have called me.” Your sister sighed. 

You shook your head, sitting up against the headboard. It was then that you noticed for the first time that your sister was still in her training kit, when normally she’d shower and change after a session. Her and Mapi must have rushed home. The thought sent a weird feeling through your body; not bad… just different. 

 “No, I was fine. You had training, you can’t miss that for no reason.” 

“There's not no reason. You were having a bad day, and you needed us. Why didn’t you call?”

You shrugged, but Ingrid continued to stare at you, awaiting an answer. “I didn’t want to make you choose between me and football.” you mumbled, picking at a hangnail and avoiding eye contact with your sister. She grabbed your hand though, and used her other hand to tilt your chin up until you were looking at her. 

“There is no choice, Solstråle. I will always come when you need me. It could be the middle of the champions league final, or the middle of training, and I would drop everything to get to you. So would María.” 

You grew teary, trying your best to not cry again. “Okay.” Your voice broke, and Ingrid felt like a piece of her heart went with it. 

“Sol, I mean it. You are more important than any football match or training could ever be. More important than anything else could ever be. You are the most important thing to me.” 

Your expression grew disbelieving, almost stunned. “I’m not worth all that,” 

Ingrid tried not to groan in frustration. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you think she was upset with you, when she was upset with your parents, and with herself. “You are! Solstråle, you are worth that and more.” 

You were getting better, definitely. But your self esteem was always something you struggled with, something you always probably would. No matter how convinced you were, now, that Ingrid and Mapi loved you and wanted you in Spain with them, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were important to them. 

“It just… it wasn’t like that before. I’m not used to this.”

Ingrid’s face fell. “I know. I know you aren’t. But I promise you, sweetheart, even before, even when we argued all the time and I was so hard on you. I cared then just as much as I do now. I just didn’t understand how to help you. But I do now, right? It’s better now?” 

A more confident nod from you. “A lot better.” 

Your sister smiled gently. “I know you’ve felt really alone these last few years. But you aren’t anymore, okay? I’m right here with you.” 

There was something behind her words that felt like a promise, but it wasn’t necessarily a promise you needed to hear. It was one Ingrid had already made through her actions. And through the flood of doubts and insecurities, you knew that she wouldn’t break that promise. 

In that moment, you hated how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. How difficult it was for you to put words to your feelings, and express your appreciation and love for your sister. All you could do was try, though, right?

“Ingrid?” You mumbled after a minute of silence. Ingrid hummed in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand. “You… everything you’ve done for me. You’re just… you’re my favorite person. And I love you.” 

Ingrid could have sobbed, truly. She, too, had struggled to share her feelings her whole life, as you had. She knew just how much it took for you to say something so sincere, and not even make a joke after it. The brunette pulled you in closer to her, leaving a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You know that, right?” You wondered, after Ingrid hadn’t responded right away. She was trying to keep the deep emotion out of her voice, not wanting to make this moment even more difficult for you than she knew it already was. When you turned to look at her, though, catching her just as a tear slid down your face, you understood. 

“I do know, Solstråle. And I love you, so much, min perfekte lillesøster.” 

It didn't really matter as much, that you didn’t think you were perfect. Because for as long as you could remember, Ingrid had been the perfect one. And now she thought you were, too, and that was enough. 

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Ingrid added as an afterthought, pulling you into an even tighter hug. “Just don’t tell-”

“AHEM.” Mapi cleared her throat from the doorway. You whipped your head to look at her, both of you breaking into a fit of giggles at the sight of the very disgruntled defender standing in the doorway. “Well, your not favorite person just came up here to say that she was going to go get you both ice cream, but now…”

It was rather difficult to stop laughing, what with Mapi standing there with her arms crossed, a frown on her face, one foot stomp away from throwing a temper tantrum. You and Ingrid pulled yourselves together, forcing serious expressions onto your faces. 

“Mapi, I was just trying to make Ingrid feel better about herself. You are my favorite. Of course.” 

“Me too, mi amor. You are my favorite.” Ingrid grinned, before very obviously winking at you. 

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Mapi turned on her heel and headed downstairs. “I am going to poison your ice cream.” She shouted over her shoulder. 

Mapi was far from upset. It was enough for her that you seemed a bit better, and that her girlfriend’s anxiety had definitely lessened. Although, the day had clearly taken its toll on you and Ingrid, because when Mapi arrived home with the ice cream, she found you both passed out in your bed, your head resting on your sister’s shoulder. 

-

-

-

You swore as you slipped in the small puddle of water on the kitchen floor, almost instantly losing your balance and falling with a thud. The mug you’d been holding fell, too, shattering on impact with the floor. You heard Ingrid call your name, evidently startled by the sound, and moved to sit up on instinct. Instead of putting your hand down on the cold floor, though, you smashed it right down into a pile of mug shards. 

“Jævel!” You shouted, almost jumping at the burst of pain and bringing your hand to your chest. It was bleeding heavily, and you gasped, startled by the amount of blood flowing out of your hand. “Ow, ow, ow,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. 

“Sol? You okay?” Ingrid shouted from the top of the stairs. 

You tried to reply, but Mapi beat you to it, appearing in front of  you out of nowhere. “No, she cut her hand. Ven aquí! And bring a clean towel!” The Spaniard shouted, grabbing the broom from the closet and hastily sweeping the shards away from you so she could safely get closer. 

“I’m sorry, Mapi, I’m so sorry,” you said shakily, sure that you were about to be in trouble for not being more careful. The water spill was your fault in the first place, and then it was what you slipped on. Now, you’d broken one of their favorite mugs, and you were getting blood all over the kitchen. 

Mapi only had time to look at you, confused, before Ingrid came running into the room holding a hand towel from upstairs. 

“Jesus, Sol,” Ingrid murmured, crouching down next to where you were and reaching for your hand. You mistook her statement as one of frustration, and not one of worry, and flinched away from her in a way you hadn’t in a very long time. 

“I’m sorry Ingrid, I broke the mug,” you cried. 

Ingrid exchanged a look with her girlfriend, before turning back to you. There was blood all over your shirt, dripping down where your good hand cradled the injured one. Your face was frighteningly pale, and you looked completely terrified. Ingrid paused, though all she wanted to do was get some pressure on your hand, forcing herself to calm down a bit. She wasn’t sure why you were reacting the way you were, but she knew by now to take it seriously. 

“Don’t worry about the mug.” Ingrid said gently, holding her hand out again. “Let me see, Sol.” 

With a pained whimper, you placed your hand in hers. Only then did you look at the wound, and both Mapi and Ingrid watched in alarm as the remaining color drained from your face. 

Ingrid knew what was coming a second before it happened, hastily trying to cover your hand with the towel as you started to sway where you were sitting. “Fuck, she’s gonna pass out,” she warned, unable to catch you as she pressed the towel into your hand, trying to get the bleeding to stop. 

Mapi dropped to her knees just as your eyes rolled back into your head, and you fell limp into her arms. “Ingrid,” she cried, overcome with panic. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s just bad with blood.” Ingrid assured her. She pulled the towel away temporarily to look at your hand, and saw a long slice across your palm. It wasn’t deep, and though you might have nicked a vein, Ingrid was pretty sure you wouldn’t need stitches. Readjusting the towel over your hand, she tried to give her girlfriend a calming smile. “It’s really okay, María. I promise, she just really hates blood.” 

“She passed out!” Mapi yelped. “This does not feel okay!”

Ingrid bit back a laugh, knowing this wasn’t the time or the place. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes, just hold this towel while I get some water for her.” 

Mapi took over with the towel, allowing your head to drop into her lap as Ingrid walked across the kitchen. 

“Ingrid, do we have any smelling salts?” She wondered, poking your cheek a few times as your eyes remained firmly shut. 

“Why, yes, María, let me go check my potion making kit.” 

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm at the moment.” Mapi grumbled, again poking your face as your eyes started to scrunch together. You looked uncomfortable, and Mapi braced herself for you to wake back up and freak out again. Instead, you stayed unconscious for a few more seconds, unbeknownst to the Spaniard, reliving a memory you’d… kind of forgotten. 

When the picture frame shattered on the wood floor, all you felt was panic. It was panic that led you to lean down and try to collect the pieces of glass in your hands. A second, much quieter crash was heard as a piece of glass shifted in your hand, cutting your finger open. 

You’d never been good with blood, and you felt yourself getting lightheaded at just the sight of the small rivulets of blood forming across the cut. You shut your eyes tightly, all thoughts of being afraid of getting in trouble for breaking the picture frame flew out of your mind, and you were turning and shouting before you could stop yourself. 

“Mamma! Mamma!” You yelled, growing dizzier and dizzier. 

“Stop yelling, my goodness.” Mamma said, walking calmly into the room. She came to a sudden stop at the sight of the picture frame broken in front of you, before her face grew cold and mean. “What have you done!” 

“I-I- I bumped the table and it fell and I tried to clean it up, but my finger, Mamma,” you cried, missing the anger on your moms face and leaning towards her for comfort as she moved closer. 

“This is my favorite picture of your sister, couldn't you have been more careful! You are always breaking things, always making a mess. I am so tired of you and the stupid things you do when you don’t pay attention.” Mamma ranted, picking up the pieces of glass and making sure the picture was unharmed. “I should be the one crying, you broke my picture frame!” 

Your stomach twisted at her tone, and at the drops of blood that were hitting the floor at your feet. You tried to fight it, knowing it would only make her more upset, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Keeling over, you threw up on the ground, whimpering as your mother gasped in surprise. 

“What-”

“Mamma, my finger,” you sobbed, holding out the bloodied appendage towards your mother. 

Some of the confusion left your Mamma’s eyes, knowing just how poorly you handled any kind of injury, on anyone. 

“Oh, goodness. Come with me.” She said, not completely unkindly as she led you into the kitchen. There, she wrapped your finger up with a dish towel, holding pressure on it as you sniffled and hiccuped. She brushed a few flyaways out of your face, your hair always coming loose no matter how tight Ingrid braided it. 

At the kind gesture, you relaxed a bit. Maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore. Cautiously, you allowed yourself to step in closer to her. “Hurts, Mamma.” 

Some emotion, of what you weren’t sure, flashed across the older woman’s face and she sighed. “You’ll be fine. It is just a little cut. It is just a little blood, kjære. You are 8 years old. And 8 years old is too big to be getting this worked up over a small cut.” 

“Sorry, Mamma.” You mumbled, scrubbing at your eyes with your good hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to stop crying even as pain burned through your finger, and all you wanted was a hug. 

“Alright, no more blood, see? Now go get a bandaid while I clean up your mess.” 

“Okay, Mamma.” 

She sent you off with a kiss on the top of your head, but as you climbed the stairs, you heard the garage door open. That meant Ingrid was home. You knew she’d had a long day, but you couldn’t help the way your body sagged in relief now that she was home. Now that you’d get a hug. 

That was, until you heard Mamma’s voice addressing your sister downstairs, as you rifled through the bandaid box, looking for a yellow one. 

“Look what your sister did.” Mamma sighed. She sounded so disappointed, and you promised yourself to do better. Next time, you wouldn’t throw up. And you would clean up the mess all by yourself. Then, Mamma would be proud of you. Then, maybe she’d give you a hug.

When you came to, Mapi’s face was hovering ridiculously close to yours, and you jolted away from her. 

“Sol! You’re awake!” 

You tried to sit up, just as Ingrid’s voice rang from across the room. “Do not let her sit up yet, she’ll only make herself more dizzy.” 

Mapi’s hands pushed your shoulders back to the ground and you frowned, seeing Ingrid appear above you holding the broom. 

“No, Ingrid, I’ll clean it up,” you said weakly, even as your stomach turned at the sight of a bloody rag in your sister’s hand. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ingrid dismissed. “You stay right there until you feel better.” 

Ingrid cleaned up the ceramic shards, and you wondered just how upset she’d be that you’d broken the mug. It was her and Mapi’s favorite. They had made it together in some pottery class, and they often fought over who got to use it in the morning for coffee. And you’d gone and broken it. Ingrid didn’t seem mad yet, but she would be… right?

 After a few minutes of Mapi gently combing through your hair, she finally helped you sit up. Your sister appeared in front of you once again, first aid kit in hand, and sat down on the ground.  She moved slowly as she reached for your hand, trying not to startle you. You held it out to her, leaning against Mapi and inhaling shakily. 

“I looked when you were out, I don’t think you need stitches.” Your sister assured you, pausing when you only gave a short nod. “You okay? Do you feel sick?” 

You shook your head firmly, clenching your jaw shut tight. Ingrid still didn’t unwrap the towel from your palm, still focused on the uneven way you were breathing, and the slightly green tint to your face.  

Mapi rubbed her hand up and down your back comfortingly, exchanging a look with your sister. “It’s okay if you feel sick, Sol. Just tell me and we can get you a bag or something.”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t get sick when I see blood anymore.” You said, sounding almost angry. 

Since when? Ingrid thought. Still, she got to work disinfecting your hand and cleaning it up. Once she’d wrapped a large bandage around it, having tried her best to ignore the way your good hand was clenched into a fist so tight it looked painful. 

Once your sister was done, she helped you to your feet, holding her arms open for a hug. You looked between her and Mapi suspiciously, a frown set on your face. “You’re… not mad?” 

“Why would we be mad?” Ingrid wondered, leading you into the living room, having decided to make you rest on the sofa for a while until you looked less ill. 

You followed her lead, albeit still sounding very confused. “Because… I made a mess. And I didn’t clean it up. And I broke your favorite mug.” 

Ingrid couldn’t figure out what you were so worked up about. “It wasn’t on purpose, Sol. And you were hurt, why would you clean it up?” 

“I should have been more careful. And it was my mess. I should have… I should have cleaned it up.” 

It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of something, a somewhat vacant expression on your face. Ingrid had the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the one that appeared whenever your sister discovered another piece of the puzzle; the puzzle of why you were the way you were, why you’d left Norway. Most of the time, the pieces were intrinsically linked to your mother. And Ingrid really hated that. 

So, she wasn’t quite sure what the specific issue in this situation was. But she knew you well enough to know what would make you feel better. Taking a seat on the couch next to you, your sister brought you into a tight hug, feeling the way you froze at first, before melting into her. 

“I don’t care about the mess.” She promised, before she leaned back, her expression contradicting her words slightly as she took in the blood on your shirt. 

You smiled weakly at her, not quite sure you believed her words. “I’ll go change-”

“No!” Ingrid interrupted. “I’ll go get you a new shirt, yeah? You just stay here.”  

With that, your sister took off up the stairs, and you were left in deep thought on the couch. Mapi took Ingrid’s spot pretty quickly, handing you a glass of water to sip from as she studied your expression. 

Mapi nudged you with her knee. “What are you thinking about?” 

“I broke a picture frame once. It was of Ingrid and Mamma, and the picture was completely fine but the glass broke and I cut my finger on it. But my mom was really mad about the mess. She said she was tired of me and the messes I made. I just… thought you’d be upset. It was your guys’ favorite mug. I thought you’d be mad.” 

Understanding dawned across Mapi’s face and she scooted closer, until her shoulder pressed to yours. “I don’t care about the mug. And neither does your sister. We’re both just glad you’re okay, that’s all we care about.” 

“Really?” You asked in a small voice. 

“Sol, you could break everything in this house, crash my motorbike, and ruin my favorite sweatshirt. And I’d still want you here. I’d still love you, nena.” Mapi assured you, not a single trace of doubt detectable in her voice. 

You looked away from her, the eye contact combined with her words proving to be too much. “I love you too.” You choked out, still looking away from Mapi, but leaning closer into her. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“How could you not? I am the best.” Mapi said seriously. 

And then the tears in your eyes were forgotten as you laughed, always shocked at Mapi’s ability to take your mind off something emotional. Always shocked, but always so grateful. 

When Ingrid reentered the room with one of her shirts in hand, it was to find you and María in absolute hysterics on the couch, your hand and whatever had upset you so greatly before completely forgotten. 

She’d thought she loved Mapi as much as a person could love another person, before you’d arrived in Spain. And then she’d picked you up from the airport, a shell of yourself, angry and hostile. And she’d watched Mapi chip away at all the anger and all the sadness. She’d watched as you became you again, with Mapi’s help.

Ingrid wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d helped you, too. But you were her sister. Mapi had no obligation to you, yet… here she was. 

And Ingrid realized that her love for María Pilar León Cebrián had grown exponentially in the past few months. Because she’d gotten to see Mapi grow to love you. Her favorite person in the world. It was so much love, she thought some days that her heart might burst.  

Ingrid hated the process of getting you here, and of everything that had happened for you that had been so incredibly difficult. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t love the family she got as a result. 

------

hahahaHAHAHA IM FINE im FINE

i love sol.

ps. please tell me if you see any typos okay goodnight

[taintedcigs]

we’d still worship this love — e.m.

part two of even if it’s a false god.

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!

summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)

a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!

Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.

He had fucked up.

So badly.

He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.

“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.

Robin.

“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.

He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.

He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.

He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 

2 HOURS LATER

DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry

DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear

DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me

DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come

DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 

You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.

You blocked this contact. 

“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.

“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.

“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.

“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.

“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.

You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.

Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 

Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 

You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 

But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 

But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 

The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 

The three of you looked at each other in unison.

Shit.

Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 

You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 

As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 

“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 

“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 

“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 

“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 

“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.

But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.

Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 

“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 

“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 

“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 

“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 

His drunkenness made you more angry.

“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  

“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 

“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 

“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 

1 MONTH LATER:

Thirty fucking days.

Eddie was going to lose his mind. 

Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.

He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.

Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.

Until he made it to the party.

Until he finally saw you.

With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—

His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 

“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 

You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 

Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 

You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 

“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.

You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 

“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 

You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 

“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 

Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.

“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 

This asshole. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.

You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”

You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 

“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 

You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 

“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 

He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”

“None of your business.” You hissed.

“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”

“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 

“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 

“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.

“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.

You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.

Fucking jerk.

You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.

“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 

“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.

You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.

“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…

“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.

But you can’t help it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 

“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 

“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.

“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 

“Yes!” You snapped. 

“Then show me.” He challenged. 

“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 

Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.

And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 

And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 

“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 

He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 

But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 

Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 

You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.

His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 

Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 

Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 

He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 

He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 

You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 

Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 

His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 

You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 

But he didn’t move an inch.

That greedy bastard. 

“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 

Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 

“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 

You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 

But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 

And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 

He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 

“Please,” You begged. 

“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.

“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 

With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 

“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 

But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 

You just needed to feel good. 

“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 

Baby. 

He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 

He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 

But he’s sure you will never let him. 

“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.

That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 

The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 

He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 

“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.

You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  

“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  

“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 

“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.

You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  

You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 

He was making you greedy. 

God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 

He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 

You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 

“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.

And it was a huge mistake.

He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 

And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 

He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 

“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 

“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 

You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 

“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 

He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 

You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 

“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  

“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.

“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 

Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.

But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 

“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 

“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  

You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 

It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 

“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 

“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.

“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 

“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.

"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”

“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.

“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.

“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 

He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 

Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 

You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 

His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 

A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 

He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 

“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 

You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 

This was the last time. 

And you needed to leave. 

As soon as possible.

And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 

You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 

“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 

You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 

And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 

“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 

“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.

“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 

“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.

“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 

“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.

You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 

“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.

But he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 

You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 

“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.

Just one more fucking chance.

“What good will it do?” You whispered.

“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 

“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.

“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 

“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.

“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 

“So?” He shrugged.

“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”

“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.

He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.

You were afraid of getting hurt.

You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.

You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.

You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.

If you didn’t leave now, you never could.

“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 

Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 

He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 

He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.

Forever.

But did he have to? 

Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 

Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 

Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 

“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 

He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 

You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 

“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 

“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 

He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 

“I need to talk to you.” He said. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.

“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.

He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 

“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.

You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 

You’d never seen him like this before.

Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.

And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.

You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.

“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.

How the fuck did he read you that easily?

“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.

“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.

You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.

Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 

“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.

“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.

“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.

You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 

“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 

Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.

“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.

You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 

“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.

“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 

“I—You do?” You stuttered.

“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 

“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 

“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 

You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 

“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 

God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.

Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”

His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?

“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”

You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.

It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.

Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.

“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.

He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.

Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?

You nodded, affirming him.

“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.

“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.

“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.

“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.

“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.

“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.

“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.

“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.

And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.

[pers1st]

she's got a way (she got away)

inspired by chappel roan's the subway!

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

summary: after the World Cup, your mind is set on leaving Spain - Alexia doesn't expect you to leave her too

It was clear, from the moment the Euros ended for the Spanish national team, that this situation would, at one point, escalate. You had been sure of it, despite the fact that all throughout the tournament, you hadn't been able to focus on anything but your girlfriend's recovery. Her knee was in pain, and so was her heart, and you were in England, unable to help due to the strict rules Jorge had set up.

Along with Irene, Mapi and Jenni, you were one of the most experienced, as well as one of the most vocal players. Your manager was slowly losing the team - it was evident that no one would really listen to a thing he said anymore, and he needed you to keep them in check. At least that was your theory as to why he appeared in your room almost every night, asking you the most absurd questions, and calming his mind with the thought of you keeping his back.

You didn't, though. It was merely the worry clouding your head that had you unable to speak your critiques, as you had done before. Jorge didn't need to know the reason, though - you were quiet, that was all he needed for now.

Alexia welcomed you back to Barcelona with open arms, though she noticed the bags under your eyes and the residue of salt on your cheeks. It was hard to miss - the fact that you were completely and utterly done. You were done.

You wouldn't go back to the Spanish National team. Not like this, and not without Alexia.

Your girlfriend was your biggest rock, and despite the fact that she was undergoing her own struggle, or perhaps that was the exact reason why, the two of you leaned onto each other more than ever. Set under pressure by the RFEF, the only way for you to escape was to lean your head on your lovers shoulders and close your eyes. Alexia didn't need to hear. She knew what was going on, without you ever speaking it out loud, and just before the World Cup, she started fighting hard for the federation to make up for their mistakes, and finally give their players a bit of fucking attention.

Still, she had to beg you. Had to beg you to come back, promising she wouldn't leave your side, promising things would be different, better. And they were, for a little bit.

The moment you allowed yourself to believe that your voices had been heard was a fleeting one. The referee blew her whistle, the English players fell to the ground in disappointment, and Alexia sprinted towards you full charge.

A moment later, when you were lifted into the air, and touched in places that left your skin burning, it was gone again. That little faith, the tiny bit of hope. It was gone. And a part of you was, too.

You had your medal. You had your picture with the trophy, you had a week of alcohol.

But still, the World Cup was tainted, and the horrifying response by not only the Spanish federation but also the Spanish press, and people, they made everything else unimportant.

You had been holding off on extending your contract. You had told the club you weren't sure yet-

You had been sure. Before the World Cup, the whole discussions and meetings had been merely a strategy to have a little more compensation for the work you did - it had been your agent's idea, but you had agreed either way.

Now, you weren't sure.

Spain felt different, in a way. You didn't believe that the country wanted you anymore, partly because you had been very vocal about what had happened, partly because the RFEF had told you so. Despite Rubiales' resign, they wanted an apology, a public one, for the comments and statements you had published. Otherwise, they didn't want you anymore.

That fateful email slipped further down with every new email you received, and by the time you told Alexia about their threats, the transfer window was almost closed.

It was rainy, that night. It never really rained in Spain that often, especially not in September. Your girlfriend had hoped the two of you could sit on your balcony and enjoy a glass of wine, for once. But it rained and you sat on the couch and before Alexia could place her drink on the sofa, something within you broke.

You didn't want to leave - you wanted Spain, wanted Barcelona, wanted Alexia.

Tears fell from your eyes so quickly Alexia didn't know what to do, almost spilling her beverage all over the couch in order to get to you.

"Amor, what's wrong?", she asked, over and over again, until all she could do was wrap her arms around you and hold your shaking frame until you calmed down enough to say something. Anything. She really just wanted to hear your voice.

"I think I have to leave", you breathed, finally, just when Alexia had believed you to be asleep.

Silence remained in your shared apartment.

And it seemed even more present when your last things had been moved to Manchester, and you were gone for good.

Your voice still sounded through the hallways, usually as the of two of you cooked dinner, separated by the ocean and phones on the counter, loud speaker enabled. You had vowed to each other to speak regularly, FaceTime if possible, and make visits as often as possible.

Alexia couldn't get used to it, though. It was quiet.

However, the changing room was louder than ever. With every week that you played in the color blue, the girls had something new to talk about. Alexia couldn't participate, because as much as she wanted to, it only reminded her that another week without a phone call had passed. You had said you were tired, yesterday, and you had said so the day before as well.

Moving was big. Especially if it was to another country. Alexia believed that you were tired, she really did.

"She scored another, on Sunday. Did you see?", Mapi pointed around the room animatedly, laughing along as Pina enacted the way you had put your entire force behind the shot, almost falling over her own legs as Cata leapt to the side, pretending to miss a shot.

"It was so good! She is shining!"

Unsatisfied with the acting performance of her own team, Alexia decided she needed to see for herself. Barcelona was playing this Friday, and since your game was on a Sunday, she would have enough time to fly over to Manchester with Jana and watch you and Jill in person.

It was a surprise, and she could see in your eyes as you gazed through the family section, that you genuinely were surprised. Leia was standing next to you, arm across your shoulder, finding her own friends in the crowd shortly before warm up would begin.

You radiated, waving to Leia's parents, shortly before your eyes caught those of your lover. Though you hadn't seen them in a while, you recognized them instantly, and your smile dropped for a split second, before it grew even wider. Waving your hands through the air, the stadium seemed smaller, all of a sudden. Alexia felt a rush of warmth throughout her body. Then, you turned around, focussing back on the task ahead, the way you always could.

Alexia could see it, then. You were happier than you had been for a while. She knew the weight that had pulled you down over the past year, and despite the fact that she was genuinely relieved to see you get on so well, it also inflicted a pang of something else.

Was it jealousy? Was it fear?

Jealousy that Manchester gave you something Alexia never could?

Fear that you would come to the same conclusion?

Alexia couldn't tell, but she could tell, as the stadium roared with each of the goals you scored, that you were happy. Jumping into the air to celebrate a goal you merely would've smiled for in Barcelona, all of your teammates crowding you happily, tapping your head and laughing along as you jogged back into position - you were different.

You had changed, silently, right in front of Alexia's eyes. She knew it was for the better.

A brief talk after the game followed, an excited kiss over the barrier, an apology as you rushed to the changing room to get changed, promising to meet her in the lounge after.

Then came the reassurance.

No, it's fine, I don't have to go for drinks with the others.

No, really, I want to have a nice evening with you before you have to leave again.

Of course I want to know how things are in Spain.

The word left your lips as though it sliced your tongue in the process, and despite the fact that you watched Alexia's brow furrow for the split of a second, the both of you never mentioned it again. The conversation dulled out, and despite the fact that Alexia was going to meet Jana at the airport hours later, she slowly began gathering her things.

You didn't stop her.

You brought her to the airport, and she promised Jana was on her way already. You wouldn't need to wait with her.

The previous goodbye had been different. There had been tears cascading down the both of your faces, whereas this time, there was merely a little glimmer of wet in Alexia's lashes.

There had been promises and plans, when you had left Barcelona. Plans to visit, promises to call, to make this work.

Now, you didn't even know when you would come back to Spain. If you would come back to Spain.

Your Catalan was rusty already, a hint of an accent coming through, that shocked Alexia at first.

She knew it was for the better, though. You weren't sad to watch Alexia leave, and Alexia would learn to live with that. It took two hours until Jana came. By the time the two walked towards their gate, Alexia's tears had dried. By the time the plane touched down in Barcelona, your lover had made up her mind to call you later. By the time she got to training later, she could only answer Mapi's question -

How is she doing?

With a wet "She got away."

Mapi didn't even question her best friend's answer, didn't furrow her brows at the prospect of her two best friends' breaking up, she merely offered a bitter smile.

Good for her, Mapi thought, too scared to voice her words out loud for the fear of hurting Alexia. Unbeknownst to her, your ex girlfriend thought the same exact thing.

[manikas-whims]

“Xavier doesn't love current MC”, “Xavier will betray us”, “Rafayel let MC get captured”, “Rafayel betrayed MC”, bla bla bla..🥱

I may be the only one but I don't even see these things as bad? Why do so many of these Xav and Raf antis want all the love interests to be goody-two shoes, boring and bland? 😆

For me, I'd like to see Rafayel hold some grudges, act vengeful and petty. I’d like to see him betraying MC but then realizing how he's actually fallen for her and instantly regret his decisions..

And I'd definitely like to see a desperate Xavier who's been killing off his own backtrackers finally make up his mind to hurt us, only for him to stop at the last minute and realise he actually cannot because he's come to love us just as much as his Queen MC..

I'd like to see them pining and desperately standing at MC’s doorstep in the middle of the night, begging her forgiveness on their knees.. I'd like to see them watch the tears in MC’s eyes and the anguish they’ve made her experience with their false kindness and betrayal..I’d like them trying to protect and watch over her despite her yelling at them to stay away! I’d like them struggling to win her back..

It's way better than having a boring love interest who doesn't make mistakes due to his actions, motivations or flaws.

*sighs i love angst*