#nonetheless I hope they end up happy together

[pitchsidestories]

under the mistletoe II Ellie Roebuck x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2032

summary: With a little help of Ellie's and Reader's Barcelona teammates a near kiss on Ellie's return to the pitch turns into a real kiss at the team's Christmas party.

author's note: Dear readers, we hope you had a wonderful Christmas, whether you celebrated it or not. Enjoy reading ! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

19 months had passed since Ellie had suffered a stroke, there were days the English goalkeeper believed she wasn’t able to make her return in goal, but her will was stronger and tonight marked her emotional return.

Ever since the blonde joined Barcelona in the summer, you witnessed her achievements as well as her struggle first hand. Both of you were in recovery together for different reasons, yet it made you bond over the similar situation.

As the season changed from summer to autumn, you went from being regular teammates to friends. Now that winter had arrived in Spain, you wondered whether the two of you could be more for each other.

The football game against Real Betis turned out to be a solid win for Barca with Esme, Caroline and Ona scoring.

Much to your own dissatisfaction, Pere substituted you at the end of the game. He told you he didn’t want to risk anything after your recent comeback but was happy with your performance. 

The words of your coach calmed you down a bit while you sat down to watch the rest of the game including the only goal from a Sevillian player. The team celebrated it like their own little win, immediately your eyes went to look for Ellie’s reaction who was clearly frustrated by it.

Nonetheless, it was a win that meant so much more because the goalkeeper had returned to the beautiful game she loved so much.

After the game officially ended you immediately ran on the pitch to jump into Ellie’s open arms. “Congratulations, babe. We're all so proud of you,’ you whispered in her ear, ignoring the fact that your lips were almost touching her in a perfect kiss.

The English woman beamed at you: “Thanks.”  Her face literally lit up and competed with the beauty which were the glowing and colourful windows inside the Sagrada Família. For a moment both of you forgot you were still surrounded by people until Kika reminded you.

“Move over, we want to hug Ellie too!”, the Portuguese forward chuckled amused.

Slightly embarrassed, you release yourself from her embrace, feeling your cheeks turn fiery red at her comment.

Many team-mates followed the striker and hugged the goalkeeper, who responded with a warm smile and said thank you, girls.

” You’re welcome, we've been waiting for this moment, and it hasn't disappointed us”’ replied Kika in a friendly tone

Curious, Keira asked her friend, whom she had known for so long at this point: “How does it feel to be back?”

“Unbelievable. I'm glad I can share this with you in the team too”, Ellie replied gratefully, hugging her sideways, knowing that the older midfielder wasn't so keen on physical affection.

Nevertheless, Keira was incredibly touched by the significance of the moment they were able to experience together: “You deserve to be here on the pitch again after all you’ve been through.”

“Stop it, Keira, or I'll cry”, the younger English woman warned the older one, tears of joy already forming in her blue eyes.

“Oh, sorry, don’t cry, please.”, the midfielder begged.

To save this situation, you suggested: “What about a group hug and no more tears for tonight?”

“Promise.”, Ellie said as the team hugged each other tightly to celebrate her return once more.

“Good.”, you nodded satisfied.

The wholesome moment was only interrupted by Mapis voice: “Girls? Don’t forget about the Christmas team dinner!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”, you promised as you all finally started to let go of Ellie again.

The blonde goalkeeper smiled: “Yes, I will convince Keira to join us.”

Her lionesses teammate cringed at that: “I hate Christmas parties.”

“But you love me, so…”, Ellie blinked at her innocently.

Keira knew she couldn’t disagree so she just groaned: “Ugh.”

“Count us all in.”, you laughed before you all started heading towards the dressing room to change. One by one, they all started to leave the stadium until only Mapi and Ingrid were left.

“Ingrid, you noticed that earlier too, right?”, Mapi asked impatiently, once the door fell shut behind Irene.

The Norwegian nodded: “Of course, amor.”

A smile spread on the Spanish defenders face: “I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me.”

Mapi just shook her head with a conspiratorial smile: “You will see. Let’s go buy some mistletoes for the Christmas dinner.”

“Mistletoes? I think I know what you have planned now.”

“It’s the season of love after all.”, Mapi winked.

“And we saw that they almost kissed on the pitch.”, Ingrid added.

“Exactly. Now let’s go, we have to prepare everything.”

When you arrived at Mapis and Ingrids apartment, the Christmas party had already started. Most of your teammates were already there, standing in the middle of the room with drinks in hand. It looked like Mapi and Ingrid had to move some of their furniture to accommodate the number of football players they hosted.

You immediately spotted Ellie standing to the side, talking to Kika.

“Hi.”, you greeted your teammates.

The goalkeeper quickly pulled you into a hug: “Hey. You look pretty.”

“Thank you. I love your outfit.”, you replied politely but truthfully.

“Thank you.”, Ellie smiled back. “Who hung up all those mistletoes?”

You followed Ellie's gaze to the ceiling, where sprigs of mistletoe hung at regular intervals.

“Mapi? Ingrid?”, you suggested with a shrug but you also couldn’t hide how impressed you were with their decorations. They really went all out for the Christmas dinner.

As if she had been waiting for it, Mapi appeared on your side with a smirk: “Oh, don’t you two know what tradition wants from you?”

“We do but we’re not standing under one.“, Ellie replied laughing.

You nodded in agreement: “Exactly.“

Mapi raised one eyebrow at both of you: “At least you know, in case you find yourselves under one.“

Keira stood with her back to the wall, studying the parasitic plants above her with wide eyes: “I’ll make sure I won’t move for the entire evening to avoid standing underneath them then!”

“And how are you going to get your food?”, Ellie asked, her warm laughter filling the air.

The English midfielder replied with an embarrassed smile: “Well.”

“I can bring you some.”, the goalkeeper offered then gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Thank you,’ Keira muttered, incredibly grateful for their friendship, which has lasted since their time together at Manchester City. 

Still smiling the blonde answered: “You’re welcome.”

“When’s the dinner ready? I’m getting hungry?”, Kika changed the topic swiftly.

“It should be done by now.”, Mapi and her girlfriend quickly left their seats and went into the kitchen to fetch the festive meal that everyone was waiting for. Inside there was a buffet there every guest could get what the heart desired.

Just outside the door, the Spaniard stopped and looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy expression on her face. With a mischievous grin on her lips the defender added: “Oh, look, Ingrid. A mistletoe right above us.”

Ingrid’s green eyes lit up with amusement: “You’re such a dork, Maria.”, the Norwegian mumbled into the older woman’s ear before kissing her despite the teasing comment.

 “You love it.”, Mapi observed confidently.

Her younger girlfriend admitted: “Maybe a little bit.”

“Want to get some food too?”, Ellie turned her face towards you beaming.

You nervously push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before answering: “I do, but the mistletoe.”

“We can avoid them.”, the blonde offered conspiratorially with a wink.

“How boring!”, Mapi threw in.

 Ignoring her teammate's words, Ellie stood up and took your hand as you followed her: “Come on.”

“You can go first and then I’ll follow you. Oh, uhm sorry.”, you apologized with heated cheeks while you stumbled into the goalkeeper who caught you without a problem, but now the mistletoe was hanging right above you, waiting for the next act to unfold.

You both didn't see that Keira was the one who was inconspicuously pushing you. Later in the evening the midfielder would explain her reasoning behind it to bring you figural speaking closer together.

In the present moment Keira waved it off nonchalantly: “Don’t worry about it.”

“‘Well, you know the tradition, I guess we...”, began Ellie, her cheeks colouring slightly pink as she felt all her teammates’ eyes on the two of you.

A gentle reminder came from your lips: “I mean no one’s forcing us to.”

“I’m aware of that, but what if I want to do it.” Much to your own surprise, she made this quiet confession, which rekindled the sparks between them.

“Maybe, I want it too.”, you agreed flustered.

A shy smile spread on Ellies face: “Close your eyes.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, waiting patiently for what would happen next. You almost flinched when Ellies lips lowered down on yours with the softest touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes, in case she might stop.

Only when Ellie finally pulled back after what felt like minutes, you finally blinked and found yourself too close to her face. She studied you in anticipation but you had no words except for: “Oh wow.”

“That was…”, Ellie started, clearly unsure how to put her own feelings into words.

“Absolutely delicious. Can I have another taste?”, you asked with an innocent smile.

The goalkeeper nodded happily: “Yes, maybe in the kitchen without all those eyes staring at us?”

You couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Okay.”, you agreed and followed her into the kitchen, ignoring all the other mistletoes on your way.

“Ellie, don’t forget my plate!”, Keira called after the two of you.

The goalkeeper shrugged and continued her way: “Sorry, I have to go.”

Keira pouted from the other side of the room: “Rude.”

“Young love, what are you going to do about it, right?”, Mapi grinned as she joined the midfielder leaning against the wall.

Ingrid appeared on Keiras other side, handing her a drink: “Thanks for your help, Keira. They really needed that push in the right direction.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kika held a plate out to her: “Here, Keira.You can have a bit of my food so you don’t have to starve because of those two lovebirds.”

“Thanks, Kika.”, Keira smiled, gratefully accepting the offered food.

“No worries.“

While your teammates stood outside gossiping, you and Ellie were alone in the kitchen. Every surface was covered with food or bottles but you didn’t mind. It was just you and her and no one else.

“So when did you first-…”, you started but stopped immediately when you realized that Ellie said the same thing at the same time.

“No, you go first.”, she insisted.

You cleared your throat before replying: “I’m not sure when it was. But I like your vibe and how positive you are even with everything going on.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I just have so much… love and respect for you.”

“And I loved that you didn’t pity me. You just welcomed me with open arms. And I like that you don’t hate it when I take photos of everything and that you’re able to just enjoy the moment as it is.”, Ellie answered, surprisingly passionately.

“You’re so sweet, Ellie.”

You watched her face suddenly light up with a smug smile: “And you know what they say about me. I’m a keeper.”

The joke came so unexpected that you started to giggle: “Then I’d like to keep you in my life.”

It was Mapi who softly knocked against the kitchen doorframe to receive both of your attention. “Hey, just letting you two amantes know that we’ll start playing games soon.”, she informed you with a wide grin on her lips.

Ellie quickly promised: “We’ll be there soon.”

“Perfect.”, the Spaniard nodded in satisfaction.

Innocently, you placed a finger under the taller woman’s chin so that she had to look into your eyes when you said: “You know, Ellie, I think there’s another mistletoe right above us.”

“Looks like I’ve to kiss you again.”, the goalkeeper replied happily.

Her lips felt incredibly soft against yours as they met in a tender kiss.  Warming both of your hearts on a cold December evening.  

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

If you’re still taking requests: sebson mistletoe matchmakers, one of those 5+1 things, like they use mistletoe together other drivers and the one time others do it to them

❃ FLUFFCEMBER 2024 ❃

day 12: mistletoe — jenson button x sebastian vettel (+ webbonso, brocedes, maxiel)

note: happy christmas everybody!! thank you for the request! btw, i will probably reduce the days becuse 1 i have not that many fanfic ideas 2 december is coming to an end and 3 sadly i have to study for my exams. but keep the requests coming :) i’ll do my best to fulfil them. ps: mark sneak in the pic but it does give the idea of a christmas party. i also couldn’t think of 5 couples from the old grid so i’ll give you 3 lmao hope it’s enough. i enjoyed writing this A LOT.

fluffcember masterlist | main masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

That year drivers’ dinner was organized in a big villa. The atmosphere was beautiful, everyone was having fun. But you know what was funnier?. Jenson and Sebastian’s plan to pull a prank on the other drivers by mysteriously making appear a mistletoe above their heads. After all, what’s better than playing matchmakers?

The first pair they wanted to fall in their trap were obviously Mark and Fernando. Not only because those two were dancing around each other for years by now, but also because they were undoubtedly the easiest target, assuming that two people who became extremely touchy at any given time would be the most likely to kiss. Their assumption revealed itself, in fact, correct.

It wasn’t even that difficult: the two of them were already talking together in a side of the room. All it took was for Jenson to hang the mistletoe above them with a broom handle while Sebastian proceeded to distract them.

The two friends, as expected, weren’t very pleased with Seb interrupting their conversation, and they quickly dismissed him by ignoring him.

“They really wanted alone time.” Sebastian stated with a smirk on his face, once he was back to Jenson.

“Well, let’s see how it plays out. But not from here.” Jenson took Sebastian by his arm and pulled him in the hallway, from where they would’ve had a better visual.

Just as planned, Mark’s head bumped into the mistletoe, and both of them looked upwards. Fernando’s face turned to a shade of red once he understood the situation.

“Oh.” Mark’s eyes were back on Fernando, who was trying his best to find something else to look at. “I haven’t seen many mistletoes around, we must have ended up under the only one.”

“Si, I guess.” The Spaniard was clearly wishing he could dig a grave for himself in the floor. A small grave would have been enough for his size, he wouldn’t take that much to make it.

The taller man seemed uncomfortable too, but overall more collected. “Should we follow the tradition? I mean, if you’re in for it, of course.”

Fernando blushed even more if possible, but nodded nonetheless. “It’s just a tradition, after all.”

Mark didn’t let himself be told twice. He leaned down and pressed his lips on his friend’s. Fernando welcomed the kiss, holding him by his shoulder, while the Aussie’s hands fell down to grab his snatched waist.

Jenson and Sebastian exchanged an accomplice look. That was the sign for them to continue with their mission. It suddenly got extremely fun.

Their next target were the two inseparable best friends, because what was funnier than threaten to break a sexual tension lasting years with a Christmas kiss?

This time was even easier to place them right where they wanted. They hung up the mistletoe in the isolated hallway they have been. Jenson then began a conversation with Nico, subtly leading him in that direction, while Sebastian did the same with Lewis. Once they were all together in the designed spot, Jenson and Seb found a way out and left the two alone, under the infamous plant. They sat on a table where they could watch them from afar without being seen.

It was quite frustrating at the beginning, since those two didn’t seem to realize where they happened to be, too busy doe-eyeing each other. That, until a berry fell on Lewis’ shoulder.

“I can’t believe they really put mistletoes around here.” said Nico, picking up the berry from the Brit’s suit.

“That must be why Mark and Fernando were passionately making out before.”

Nico chuckled, remembering the sight. “Care to imitate them?”

Lewis froze suddenly. He was never out of words, but in that moment he really couldn’t find anything meaningful to say, so he just stayed silent.

“What? You don’t think your masculinity can handle it?” Nico teased him, stepping forward to cancel the empty space between them. “Or you’d rather take it and use it to kiss some pretty girl?”

Lewis didn’t believe there could ever exist a girl prettier than Nico. “Is it a challenge?” And God knew how much he loved challenges.

“I don’t know, would you accept it?”

Lewis took Nico’s face in his hand and pulled him in a kiss.

Seb gave Jenson the high five. It was proving all easier than expected.

They decided to have a drink or two before concentrating on their next victims.

“I must say I didn’t think it would’ve gone so smooth. Why is everyone tonight so fucking horny?” Sebastian said in a softer tone, careful not to be heard by anyone but his accomplice, and they both shared a laugh.

“Look,” Jenson got closer to his friend “tell me he’s not dying to kiss Verstappen from the moment he stepped in this place tonight.” He pointed discreetly at Daniel Ricciardo, sat in a table not too far from them, who was too centered on keeping his eyes on Max to hear what they were saying.

The two appeared in front of the poor boy, blocking his sight. Jenson initiated the talk. “Hey mate, how you doing?”

Daniel snapped instantly back to reality. “Oh. Good, thank you. I was just–“

“Yeah, we know.” Seb stopped him, saving him the awkwardness, then took a mistletoe out of their secret mistletoes bag and handled it to him. “We could have done it for you, but we thought it was more fun if you’d do it yourself.”

The young Aussie looked at the little plant, then at them, a bit confused. Then his big brown eyes widened and his lips parted in realization.

“Max.” Daniel greeted him, after finally finding the courage to approach him.

The boy was sipping casually on his drink. He smiled as soon as he saw his teammate. “Hi Danny. Are you having fun?”

The RedBull driver tried to keep the conversation going until he took the decision: it was finally time to shoot his shot. He sneakily dropped the mistletoe without being seen by his friend, then he slyly dropped down his eyes. “Oh, look. It must have fallen from the ceiling.”

Max frowned, then picked it up and scanned it, turning it around in his hands. “It doesn’t surprise me. Those two are hanging these damn things around since they arrived. Such a childish tradition.”

“Do you think it’s childish?” asked Daniel, finding it hard to hide the disappointed tone. He was usually able to easily break the tension by saying something funny, but in that moment he found himself out of jokes.

“I mean,” Max tucked his hair behind his ear, letting his nervousness shine through. “They’re like the cat and the fox, playing matchmakers, and now everyone is making out. We don’t want them to fool us too, right? Not that I don’t want to kiss you, but– Wait, sorry I didn’t mean it like–” he sighed and shook is head “What am I saying? Sorry, I’m being so bad with words. I just–”

His nonsense rumblings were interrupted when Daniel silenced him with a kiss. Max stiffened at first, but when his friend’s hand found his, he relaxed and kissed him back.

Sebastian and Jenson were watching them satisfied, sipping their second drink. Their game then succeeded most of the times for another hour. At least until they accidentally left their mistletoes bag in a corner of the room to go to the bathroom, and when they were back, it wasn’t there anymore.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone at the same time.”

So smart of them. “Maybe someone picked it up thinking it was theirs.”

They asked around, but no one seemed to have seen it.

“Has someone lost a navy bag?” Nico Rosberg’s voice resounded suddenly among the people.

“It’s ours!” The two quickly approached the Mercedes driver, soon realizing he wasn’t alone. Lewis was with him, and also Max. And Daniel. And Mark with Fernando. Oh.

The Spaniard had his arms crossed. “I think I’ve seen it there.” He pointed to a door.

Seb and Jenson wasted no time and ran in the said direction. It didn’t take them very much to notice that they ended up in a room full of mistletoes, all hanging from the roof, from the walls, scattered on the floor and all over the furniture. The door closed behind them.

“I think they caught us.” Jenson commented, looking around. The other drivers�� laughters echoed from afar.

“Very perceptive of you.” Sebastian couldn’t help an amused smile.

“We kinda had it coming.” The Brit turned towards him.

“Kinda?” Seb shrugged. “It was inevitable.” His eyes met the other man’s ones, and betrayed his feelings. He couldn’t hide them anymore. “So, what shall we do?”

Jenson tilted his head a bit, his intentions so obvious, so readable on his face. He stepped closer and closer, forcing the other driver to back up against a wall. “Well, it would be very hypocritical of us to avoid the trend at this point.”

“I think so too.” The German’s gaze dropped to his lips.

Jenson trapped him by leaning on the wall with one hand. “May I?” His voice was low and his breathe heavy.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need your British manners with me.”

They smashed their lips together. They explored each other’s mouths, savouring each other’s taste. Sebastian’s hands held him close by behind his neck, while Jenson’s found a way down his body.

When they broke the kiss, they were breathless. Sebastian’s blue doe eyes were still fixated on the other man’s lips. “You know, I think I saw a mistletoe in my hotel room too.”

Jenson chuckled.

[g1rld1ary]

our names in the paper - footballer!james potter x fem!sports journalist!reader

wc: 11,151

cw: swearing, fade to black but suggestive moments?, smoking, slut-shaming, kissing

info: r and james are about 24, set in 2007ish solely for the romcom vibes. james is the equivalent of like David Beckham in his prime, all pics are for vibes only, not reflective of r's appearance etc

me: i've been working on this for soooo long i am so happy it's finally done!! if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms and i am honestly so proud of it so praying it doesn't flop LOL

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"James, James! Over here! What's the defence strategy this season?"

If you had to hear James' name one more time you might scream. Unfortunately, you were locked in a room with nothing but that. Worse, you were part of the problem.

"Mister Potter, what do you think about your striker's goal-to-game ratio falling rapidly this season?" You called, begrudgingly hoping for a moment of the soccer star's attention. Fortunately (or unfortunately), his glittering eyes settled on you, singling you out from the room of hungry journalists.

"I think that you miss one hundred per cent of the shots you don't take," He said, smirk turning to something challenging, "And as long as my team is training and working together, I'm not gonna cry over a bit of spilt milk or missed goals. And, as far as I'm concerned we're still winning games, aren't we?" You rolled your eyes, scribbling down his answer nonetheless.

You continued the catfight of trying to get answers for your newest article, keeping the balance of vying for James' attention and showing him you didn't care for him personally, unlike the other journalists you were pushing against. The conference room was full of men and women who wanted to be James or be with him. Aside from the professional questions, there were certainly several invitations to the pub thrown around, and you were sure you saw one woman try and give him her cellphone number. You rolled your eyes again at that, James was nothing to fawn over.

He might be a big shot now, but you'd known him almost all your life. The two of you had gone to school together and had bickered through every interaction since then. James had always wanted to be a football star, and you a journalist. You'd never believed in him and vice versa, both of you taking every opportunity to tease the other or cut each other down. Maybe it was just clashing personalities, two people too ambitious to be friends. The rivalry had lasted past school, and unfortunately, the two of you often crossed paths in your respective careers.

The press conference wrapped up soon after your question, and you ended up lingering in the room trying to finish your notes. James was still over at his podium next to his coach, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and arduously texting on his flip phone. Seeing you hovering by the door he called your last name, sauntering up behind you. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for the encounter.

"Potter." You smiled curtly, moving to leave.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr Potter' during the conferences, you know. James is perfectly fine, everyone else calls me that."

"Just trying to stay professional," You said through gritted teeth, aware his coach and a few others were still around you. It could cost you your job to snap at him.

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold," You whispered, glancing around anxiously. James laughed at your distress which only annoyed you further. Maybe he could get away with anything, but you had to fight for your place in your field as a female sports journalist, you couldn't afford to take it lightly.

You couldn't help the physical reaction to being trapped between James and the wall though, your breathing shallow and quick, face tilted up slightly to look at him. You felt a bit like prey, caught in the predator's territory and resigned to imminent death.

"Let her go, will you? She's just doing her job," Remus Lupin said, entering the conference room with his nose crinkled from the smell. You couldn't blame him, sweaty players and hungry journalists didn't make any kind of utopia together.

"I wasn't doing anything!" James cried, hands up in surrender, "Come on love, I was just giving you the scoop, right?"

"First of all, if you were giving me 'the scoop' right now I'd certainly be accused of sleeping to the top by all the blokes waiting out there," You gestured to the group of other reporters still lingering in the hall waiting for any scraps of information, "And secondly, I work for the bloody Sunday People, not the BBC. I honestly think they'd rather I just write about your 'dashing good looks' or a drug scandal than your games," You complained, falling back into the ease of conversation now that Remus was there. He'd been at school with the both of you, growing up to be a physiotherapist, but was always much more palatable than James.

Both men laughed at your plight.

"If you ever need a more detailed look at my dashing good looks just ask, sweetheart. I'd be glad to show you, you know, for your articles." You rolled your eyes at James' attempt to be charming, snapping your notebook shut.

"Alright, I think that's my cue to go," You said curtly, smoothing out your work trousers. "Remus, I'll return Dracula next time I see you; I'm almost finished." You remembered you'd had his novel for quite a while, sparing him a smile on the way out.

"You lend her books?" James asked incredulously, hazel eyes curiously following your figure down the hall. Remus just shrugged, patting James on the shoulder and attending to his actual job, checking up on the players after the match.

James was still hung up on the fact when he returned to the apartment he shared with Remus and Sirius, flabbergasted as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Since when are you two close enough to be sharing books?" He cried as he paced through the kitchen, "Have we not all been in agreement that she is stubborn and hard-headed and annoying and has been since school?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "You decided that, and I daresay she feels the same about you. I've always rather liked her."

James was unexpectedly dumbfounded at the realisation that you weren’t the common enemy he thought you were. Even Sirius didn’t seem to dislike you, always stopping for a chat when you were around the stadium and giving you extra comments with a flirty wink.

James didn’t need to think about you for another few weeks; his team hadn’t played one week and you’d been assigned other matches for the others — he read your very amusing pieces on lawn bowls and chess-boxing, partly because he knew you’d hate the assignment.

You were blissfully apart until one Saturday night. You were out with your friends and a few coworkers and James was out with his. He’d started in the local pub while you were at a fancy cocktail restaurant for Lily’s bachelorette party, however, your groups crossed paths in the depths of a nightclub.

Maybe you were getting too old for them, waking up with sore backs and knees after nights of dancing, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t give it a red hot go. And with a few cocktails in your system, nobody could convince you it wasn’t a good idea.

You'd been shaking what your mother gave you for the better part of an hour before it was your turn to get another round, telling the girls you'd be back before stumbling through a sea of sweaty bodies.

Some gross man who was definitely too old for you obstructed your path, grabbing your arms to make you dance with him. Your face crinkled in disgust of its own accord, trying to wiggle yourself free. He continued to encroach on your space, forcing you around despite your persistence. Finally, a man's hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away and subsequently freeing you from his grasp. The momentum sent you tumbling in your strappy heels, right into something warm and solid. You cringed, having been there before. You turned slowly to meet your unwitting saviour, huffing when you realised it was James.

"Oh, fuck off," You grumbled, mostly to yourself, producing a quick apology to not seem totally impolite.

"Alright?" Sirius asked, revealing himself as the one who'd gotten you away from the creep. You shrugged, fixing your hair.

"Been better," You told him, preparing to leave before seemingly their whole team had surrounded you, all greeting you loudly. You weakly waved at them, feeling dreadfully underdressed and professional. You were used to seeing them in the stadium and press conferences where you were much more modestly dressed. The strapless mini dress wasn't giving you the same layer of protection.

"Right," You said when there didn't seem to be any more productive conversation happening, "I'm off to the bar then."

"Let me buy you a drink, to make up for the freak," One of the players, Frank, said. You smiled but shook your head.

"I'm buying for several, it wouldn't be fair. It's Lily's bachelorette." You directed the last sentence to those who knew her, the football and journalism professions having considerable overlap due to events and the never-ending scandals and interviews. James covered his face in mock-devastation.

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?" He moaned, earning some shoves from the rest of the group. You and Lily had been friends since uni, and you'd introduced her to the boys at one of the terrible house parties you'd endured over your three years studying. James had developed a thing for her right away (no one knew how much of it was serious and how much was for comedic value) and had been loudly pining for her ever since, despite her long-term relationship with Dirk Cresswell, an economist who worked in the building down the block from your office.

"I think you missed your chance the first time," You retorted with a snort, a little drunk to have any ferocity in your tone. You both made a face at each other, ignoring the laughter of those around you. You dismissed the group and danced away, shaking your arse over to the bar.

A few rounds later and you were not in your best shape. The girls had been absolute menaces, feeding you shots and deceiving colourful cocktails that actually held like seven standards in them, and you were certainly feeling the effects. You excused yourself from the group to find a loo, bile rising in your throat as you pushed past dancers, not even sparing a comment for James as you saw him.

That confused both James and his friends, becoming used to your insistent teasing over the years. He exchanged a look with Sirius, following you through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

He figured something was wrong when you burst into the gender-neutral bathrooms, not bothering to lock the door behind you. James and Sirius silently fought about who was going to follow you in and check on you; James found you insufferable, Sirius had severe emetophobia and would probably throw up himself if he had to be close to you vomiting. James rolled his eyes, it was his responsibility. Sirius clapped him on the back gratefully, leaving him to return to the others. James sighed, reciting some affirmations before he cracked the door open, calling out to you.

When you responded with a disgusting wretch, James slipped inside, gagging a little as he saw you leant over the toilet bowl, bare knees on the grimy tile floor.

"Alright?" He asked for lack of anything better, unsurprised when you replied with another gag.

"I feel ill," You said pathetically, head hung low in the bowl which James knew you would resent tomorrow. He laughed quietly, getting closer to you.

"No shit, idiot," His tone was light as he began to rub your back softly, making sure your hair was away from your mouth. You vomited a few more times, your body reacting in violent hurls as James tried to be both soothing and as far away as possible.

When your stomach was finally empty you slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed against the cool porcelain.

"Woah," James pulled you up to a sitting position, "That cannot be good for your skin. Let's get you home, okay?" You nodded petulantly, letting yourself be led out through the club, James telling Lily he'd make sure you got home (and congratulated her on the upcoming wedding).

"Can we get some gum or something? My throat tastes like vom." James looked down at you from where you were lodged into his side, legs shaky as you wobbled down the street. He sighed and steered you in the direction of a convenience store, picking out strawberry gum for you since it tasted better than mint, your words. Good you thought when he paid for it, the football star can shell out 2 pounds, makes more than you anyhow.

You chewed happily, stumbling down the pavement as James held onto you, keeping you upright.

"You're so muscly," You said, somewhat in a drunken haze.

"Thank you?" James laughed, patting you softly on the forearm he was holding. To be fair, you weren't quite sure if it was a compliment either. Your words were admittedly oddly nice but your tone made it confusing, drunk thoughts not completely translating to sober dynamics.

You meandered for a few oddly peaceful minutes, neither of you starting an argument or picking a fight. It was a nice break from normal, the two of you even sharing some peaceful small talk -- discussing a movie you'd both seen recently.

Of course, nothing good lasts.

"James!" A voice yelled from the other side of the street, a short man with mousy mannerisms. James groaned beside you.

"Peter Pettigrew," He whispered to you, trying to pull you along faster, "We used to be mates but turns out he was just using me to get team secrets out into the papers." You whipped your head around to look at him. Oh! You knew Pettigrew, unsurprising given you both reported on essentially the same topics, but he had a bad name even in your circles. He was closer to a paparazzi than a journalist, going for the cheap stories and ad hominem approaches rather than searching for any meaningful insights. Simply put, in an already sleazy career, Peter Pettigrew was the bottom of the barrel.

"Later, mate. I'm in the middle of something right now." James put his arm around your shoulder, better shielding you as he tried to make a getaway. The telltale flash of a camera reflected off the grey pavement, making both you and James whip your heads around to face Peter, looking hardly ashamed of himself. After a moment of shock, you both covered your faces, stumbling down the street as fast as you could manage. The damage was already done.

Suddenly you didn't feel as drunk, navigating the cobblestone streets with unanticipated nimbleness. James might've had the athlete's advantage but you were on home turf, leading him through local shortcuts and to the front door of your apartment building.

On the journey over you'd attracted a few more photographers all fiending for a scandalous picture of James, a small mob forming as you tried to punch in the door code despite your shaking hands. James was right behind you, front pressed to your back, holding his Adidas windbreaker out in a position to shield your face from the prying eyes.

You slammed the door shut, the nosy questions and camera clicks immediately muffled. James let out a long sigh, running a hand through his already tousled hair. Neither of you spoke for a while, processing what had happened.

"Make yourself at home then." You cringed as you surveyed the state of your flat; clothes flung over chairs and dishes still in the sink. Your only option for living alone was cramming all your stuff into what was essentially a shoebox, so any amount of mess made the place look chaotic.

"Nice place," James said and you immediately rolled your eyes, snatching up a stray bra strewn across an armchair. "No, I mean it! It's cozy. Very you." He gestured up at the colourful, mismatched glassware in a kitchen cabinet and the beaded curtain separating your bedroom. You blushed slightly; you didn't often take men home, your flat staying a girly paradise just for you.

You put on the kettle, comforted by the familiar sounds of water beginning to boil. James sat awkwardly on an armchair near the window, anxiously peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes. His reactions told you the paparazzi were still loitering outside.

James took his tea gratefully, surprisingly still agreeable despite all the terrible things that had happened in the course of a few hours.

"Do you have a back exit or something? Somewhere I can slip out and get home?" You shook your head with a grimace.

"Only the fire exit, but that still goes out near the front. Otherwise we're surrounded by other buildings."

"You must be exhausted after everything. Head off to bed, I'll wait until the gits outside fuck off then lock the door behind me. We don't have to ever mention this again if you don't want." The orange lamp light made James' eyes look unfairly soft, highlighting the golden flecks amongst the brown. You steeled your nerve and shook your head.

"I'm not that bad of a host," You tried to joke, "Besides, don't you have training tomorrow? You're already up later than I'm sure you intended to be. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined England's star player by making him stay up all night, you take my bed and go to sleep." You were both very carefully trying to keep things light, not wanting to spend any more of the night miserable and fighting.

"Well, I'm not taking your bed, that's just impolite. I'll take the couch, if you're being so generous as to let me stay." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he said it, both of you dancing around the fact that in any other circumstance James wouldn't have been allowed within fifteen feet of your flat.

"That couch? No way." You pointed at the teensy vintage sofa sitting in front of the boxy television. It had space for maybe two and a half arses to sit on it, maybe horizontally extended legs if you were short-ish, but there was no way the goliath James Potter was getting any decent sleep on it. "You take the bed. I'll survive the couch tonight."

"Don't be stupid, I can't sleep in your bed. If not the couch I'll take the floor."

"Speaking from a purely medical standpoint, I haven't cleaned these floors recently enough for it to be safe to have your face in such close proximity. Take the bed, Potter."

You bickered for a few long minutes, both of you trying to outdo each other's respect as host and guest, respectively. You didn't miss the irony that even when you and James were getting along you were fighting.

"I'm not letting you go without, that's final." You turned away to go fetch a pillow for your night on the couch when James said something you never ever thought you'd hear from him.

"Then sleep with me."

"Excuse me?" You all but shrieked, immediately cringing as you thought about your poor neighbours.

"Look, it's basically morning, we're both shattered and I'm sure your bed is much comfier than whatever alternative you're planning. We can even go full pillow-wall if it'll make you feel better." You stared at him for several moments, lips actually agape. Never in your life did you think James Potter would be asking you to share a bed with him, and never in your life did you think you'd be considering it.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later and you were both ready for bed. You'd found James an old pair of an ex-boyfriend's long abandoned pyjamas, stuffed in a bottom drawer. They were slightly too small to accommodate all his muscles, the t-shirt sitting a few inches above the pants' waistband, giving him a very '90s crop top and exposing his happy trail.

You were almost definitely more embarrassed than James. You were in a similarly aged pair of pyjamas, a cartoon of Spongebob over your chest. You couldn't tell if you'd prefer to be in the lame pair that you were wearing or a cute pair -- no, it would probably look like you were trying too hard. Which you weren't. You didn't care about looking cute in front of James Potter, why would you?

He was already in bed when you'd returned from your skincare routine, face fresh and moisturised, and though you knew he was going to be there, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of James Potter in your bed. Tucked up to the chin under your frilly floral grandma sheets, he looked the picture of cozy.

"Don't bloody touch me, I mean it. I want to feel alone in my own bed," You snapped, sliding under the covers, pulling the doona similarly high up to your chin. You turned over to the centre of the bed to find James already on his side looking at you. You let it be for a moment, surprisingly enjoying the sleepover vibes you'd created.

"Okay this is weird now, the pillow's going up." You slammed a long decorative cushion in between the both of you, secretly smiling at the sleepy giggle James let out.

The first time you awoke it was hazy, still early in the morning with golden sunbeams streaming through your curtains. Warmth enveloped you, keeping you cozy despite the winter morning outside. You shifted to burrow deeper into your blankets when a groan came from behind you, startling you more awake as you recognised the feeling of muscular arms wrapped around your middle. It suddenly all came back to you, James walking you home, the paparazzi, you making an absolute fool of yourself. However, James was a portable heat source and extremely comfortable so you let yourself ignore everything that had led up to it, allowing yourself another few hours of blissful sleep.

The second time you woke up James was gone. That wasn't surprising given he definitely had early morning training, but you would reluctantly admit that it was a little lonelier in your bed than it usually was.

You didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, finally cleaning your apartment after much too long. Turns out all you needed was to be embarrassed in front of a guest to get you motivated.

Monday morning you weren't hungover anymore, but you were mourning the weekend that had passed much too quickly. Still, things were running smoothly enough; you didn't miss the tube and had snagged a seat, and your makeup was looking absolutely grand. You were absolutely thriving.

That was, until you crossed the threshold of the Sunday People offices and the jerks from the politics columns started bothering you, as if a Monday morning wasn't punishment enough.

"Meet anyone nice over the weekend, sweetheart?" One crowed from his desk chair, looking positively dickhead-ish in his too-small button-up.

"Or still on the clock maybe? We know you're always hunting for a good story." The combination of both remarks confused you, but you strutted past them with a quick glare in their general direction, your clicking heels producing enough attitude that you didn't need to say anything.

As you approached your own desk area, you had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at you. You couldn't think of why, but subtly wiped the edge of your lips in case it was foolishly smudged lipstick.

You even swore you heard one of the royal writers -- an awful woman maybe twenty years older than you -- say something about your 'promiscuity' and 'unprofessionalism'. You didn't know where it was coming from. You weren't friends by any means but you usually just stayed out of each other's way, you didn't throw around insults at your workplace. You glanced down at your outfit but nothing seemed especially revealing, the same button-up and pencil skirt you always wore if you weren't doing field work.

You were really starting to wonder why everyone was looking at you when even Lily was sending you pitiful glances. You had just made up your mind to say something about it when your boss came striding towards you, anger emanating in a way which only middle-aged men can do.

"What is this?" He slammed a Daily Mail tabloid down on your desk. The office was dead silent. You looked down at it, wholly confused as to what it could be -- your last article was approved without any troubles.

THE 'INSIDE' SCOOP? POTTER GETS COZY WITH REPORTER ON NIGHT OUT

And there, right under the brazen headline, was the stupid picture that Peter Pettigrew took. The two of you out on the street, you tucked into James' side with his arm around you. Your face wasn't totally visible, but anyone who already knew you would recognise the figure and fashion.

You could feel your face drop as you read the article, a barrage of slut-shamey insults and reports of how intimate you and James were out on the streets of London -- all entirely false, of course. When you'd finished reading the piece the whole office was staring at you, waiting to see how you'd react.

"It's a lie," You said quietly, trying to stop your hands from shaking as they rested on your lap. There was a pregnant pause as your boss processed what you were saying, clearly confused. None of your coworkers dared to speak.

"Bullshit," He replied, face blooming red as he decided you weren't being truthful. "That's you and that's James, there's no denying that. The whole bloody country will be able to see you two getting cozy on the street. How do you reckon this reflects on me, having your name and workplace published alongside your completely unprofessional affair?"

"I understand that it looks bad, but it's not what you think at all. J- uh, Potter was just helping me get home after a chance encounter because I wasn't feeling well, then he hid at my place because of all the paparazzi. Nothing happened." It was a weak explanation, even you could tell, even though it was completely true.

The arseholes over in Politics were already sniggering to themselves and you wished you could have ripped them a new one. Instead, you were cowering underneath your brutish boss.

"It's your word against Pettigrew's, and only one of you's been printed. You've been publicly humiliated and we're getting bad press for it."

Your boss had left you with the threatening promise that the issue would be brought up with your superiors and the whispered opinions of every single person you worked with. You choked out an excuse to get out of the office, taking the lift up to the rooftop to cry.

You had peace for a few minutes, getting the most embarrassing of the sobs out alone.

"Did you actually sleep with him?" If it was anyone else you probably would have snapped, yelling at them for being so insensitive. Marlene said it with such earnest curiosity and sympathy that you turned to face her instead. You were met with her and Lily, your very best friends who you were feeling especially lucky to work with at that moment.

"No!" You told them the full story, about getting sick at the club, James just being polite and walking you home, and Peter Pettigrew's terrible betrayal. Both women listened attentively, taking it all in.

"I thought you hated Potter," Lily said finally, "How'd it get that far in the first place? Usually you'd have ditched him in the first five minutes of being in his presence."

"I don't hate him." You studied your hands intently, observing the peeling red nail polish you should have reapplied yesterday. "I think he's annoying and obnoxious and I've always hated that he's never believed I could be a serious writer, but I don't hate him. He has his moments. Besides, why would I waste energy on hating Potter when I could hate Pettigrew with all my heart?"

"What a snake," Marlene spat, lighting a cigarette as she got comfy next to you. You and Lily both nodded. Peter was not only now a backstabber, but he'd been becoming increasingly insufferable over the years you'd all been writing.

He started out quite nice and was in your periphery of friends in the same way Remus and even James were, but as he'd gotten the job at his shitty tabloid magazine he'd become downright intolerable, always twisting what you'd said both in official articles and when gossiping with other friends. You had all had enough a few years ago and stopped inviting him places. Clearly, he'd held onto the grudge.

At his own work, James was facing the same rumours, though not nearly to the same peril. As he rocked up to his home pitch for the morning training session he was received with catcalls and high fives which made him nervous. No one was ever that happy to be working out on a Monday morning.

"Thought you hated her, mate."

"Maybe all she needed was a good shag to get the stick out of her arse."

"Woah! Can we take it back a few steps and not talk about women that way?" James sent a look over to one of his teammates.

"Sorry bud," He held his hands up in surrender, "Thought you wouldn't mind since you're always moaning about her." James' eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what the men were talking about, finally giving up and asking for a plain explanation.

He was met with a copy of Peter's article, outlining the flirty touches and 'electric chemistry' the two of you shared. Scanning it quickly James felt his face screwing up in disgust. Never mind that it obviously wasn't true, what a disgusting violation of privacy. He'd only recently launched into the spotlight, working his way up into the Premier League and then team captain in the last few years. He still didn't know how to handle the fame, especially invasive press like this.

His first priority was setting the ruth straight for his team, explaining exactly what happened and outlining strict instructions not to bring it up the next time they saw you.

"This is going to be a lot worse for her than me," He said, ending the conversation there.

He was correct. Rumours only spiralled from Peter's article. You'd stupidly created Google Alerts for your name; as a journalist, it made sense to keep track of where your writing was being shared. One day of this nonsense and you had all alerts silenced, not wanting to ever visit the internet ever again.

Apparently, this alleged affair was the most interesting thing young British people had ever experienced. The football star and the sports journalist. As you packed up to leave at the end of the day you were feeling sick to your stomach, already overwhelmed by the attention you never wanted on you.

Your face blanched as you approached the dizzying glass windows, a mass of reporters swarming the door. You didn't have to think hard to know they were waiting for you. You retreated to the restroom where they couldn't see you to rearrange your exit appearance. Pulling your coat tight against you and scarf up to cover the bottom half of your face, you plugged your iPod nano in to appear busy (and touched up your eye makeup for the inevitable photos that would make it back into the news cycle).

Physically and emotionally prepared you braved the crowd again, moving through with a polite but firm shove, making yourself a path down to the tube. You only snapped at one particularly rude paparazzi, giving him an instruction of where to 'stick it' as you hopped down the stairs to your station.

You ate a haphazard dinner by your computer, obsessively clicking through the various articles (and now personal blog posts) that had mentioned you. Every link made you feel worse about yourself.

The articles themselves were bad, most of them degrading you and congratulating James. Some had even produced old school photos of the both of you, even a few from your uni days when James was just starting out professionally and you were attending similar parties.

The articles were one thing, at least they usually had to be somewhat impartial. The blog posts by James' fangirls were downright cruel, calling you a slag based on a singular photograph and dragging your name through the mud.

You were drawn from your doom-scrolling by your cellphone ringing, Britney ringtone at least drawing a smile from you.

"Hello?"

"Get off the internet," Sirius Black said from the other end of the line.

"How'd you know?" You exited the webpage dutifully, already feeling the weight of the world's ugly words lifting from your shoulders.

"I figured. First time being written about isn't easy."

"It's certainly making me grateful I've never been so bitchy in my articles," You produced a hollow laugh, "I don't know how people can say these things about someone they've never met."

"That's why we like you," He said, "Mostly, at least. You stick to the sport and not our personal lives."

"Don't inflate my ego, Black, it's just because I don't like you guys," You joked, your mood already blooming back to somewhat more chipper.

"That's what I've been telling him!" You heard Remus call from further away, probably the other side of their living room. Sirius made an offended noise.

"Is Potter there?" You changed the topic, swirling your mouse around the window aimlessly, too afraid to check your work or personal notifications.

"He's out right now, calling someone official -- a publicist or lawyer friend. He's tearing his hair out about this, he feels awful for you." Both men explained, bickering about who exactly he was talking to.

"Yeah, I'm noticing only one of us is getting called a slut." You rolled your eyes even though they couldn't see you, balancing your cell between your shoulder and ear as you made a cup of tea. Sirius' barking laughter crackled through the speaker.

"Don't worry about it, love, everyone knows The Daily Mail is full of shite. Besides, I got that all the time."

"Yeah, in school! Not when you have a grown-up job to save face at!" Sirius conceded, apologising lightly. You shrugged him off; he was not the target of your anger at all.

"James'll be back soon, do you want to stay on the phone?" Remus asked and you answered without hesitation.

"No. I don't want to talk to him right now. We'll just find something to fight about, it's not worth it."

"He wants to make things better," Sirius offered, "He feels terrible."

"Maybe when I'm not so angry at the world." You left them with the offered compromise, hanging up to pity yourself for a few more hours before bed.

You didn't end up being fired over the incident, your bosses couldn't find a good reason to cite, but everyone in the office knew you were on thin ice. Most weren't afraid to highlight that fact. You were really starting to hate the Politics guys.

You just tried to keep your head down, diving into your articles and trying to keep in the higher-ups good graces. Amidst the drama though you'd been taken off all football coverage for the time being, banished to the irrelevant 'sports' you never even knew existed.

The week had taken you out of London to cover bizarre rural events like cheese rolling and bog snorkelling; not uninteresting but a big change of pace to the Premier League drama you were used to.

It did take your mind off of James and the media shitstorm for a day or two though. Being in a small town was much preferable to London, at least for the moment. The paparazzi weren't going to make the drive to find you for a single day when there were plenty more interesting figures to find in the city.

Plus, you were meeting the most interesting people. Though it was no Premier League final, everyone around was so wholly invested and excited by the competition that you couldn't help feeling the same, despite your initial hesitation.

Throughout the day it was just you, your notepad, your camera and the few thousand people who came to participate and observe. You'd already met and interviewed the woman who made the cheese, the previous year's winner and you were waiting impatiently to see who'd prevail now.

The paper was paying for you to stay overnight so you could chronicle the post-event celebrations, and you'd never been so glad to be working late. The key players in the day, organisers and competitors had all convened in the town's old pub, basically heaving under the weight of you all.

You held up your beer with the others despite hating the taste, grateful to be included in their toast to the day. You laughed as you tried to down it quickly, wanting the taste out of your mouth as soon as possible without refusing such a kind gift. Holding the pint up in the air victoriously you accepted the cheers of those around you, including the lovely middle-aged lady who made the ceremonial cheese and the man only a year or two older than you who'd won earlier.

"Finally letting your hair down!" He laughed and you smiled back, trying to remember his name. A glance down at your notepad said Drew. "Can I get you another?" You hoped he didn't notice your eyes widen, not expecting attention like that, not when you were allegedly working no less. You opened your mouth to agree when someone else answered for you.

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, jovial politeness abandoned.

"You didn't remember that my family comes to watch every year?"

"Respectfully, why the fuck would I remember something like that?" You snapped, moving to leave and follow the much nicer Drew to the bar. James grabbed your hand lightly, stopping you from leaving.

"Wait, can we talk please?" You just looked at him for a long time, considering how much patience you had after a full day of work, then shrugged half-heartedly.

He led you outside and away from the crowd, both of you letting out a huff as you noticed the change in temperature.

"I liked your story on the bog snorkelling -- interesting stuff," James broke the awkward silence and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

"As if you read my pieces."

"I do!" He insisted, silently refusing the cigarette you offered. "I've read all your pieces, honest."

"But... huh? You're the one who always said I'd be a shit writer, I've spent years trying to get the negative internal James out of my head! You absolute dickhead!" You shoved his chest, turning back towards the door to return inside.

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

James' words rang heavy in the air, the street otherwise silent. You stared straight ahead of you for a moment, his words settling on top of you as you focused on the orange street lamp.

This whole time, this whole time, you'd been fighting the image you believed James had of you, striving to be better, never being satisfied, for nothing. This whole time you and James had been bickering and trading insults for nothing? And all his flirting... James' annoying charm and ironic compliments and innuendo-filled teasing were all genuine, after all this time? Suddenly your whole world had turned on its axis.

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Jesus Christ," You muttered, "So what, you thought all my arguing back was just flirting?" James' silence told you all you needed to know.

"Come on, don't act like you didn't like it a little bit! As I recall you were always up for the fight, weren't you? You never avoided me or ignored me. Let's face it, you enjoyed it as much as I did." He stepped closer to you, breath visible in the cool air.

"I didn't enjoy it, what the hell are you talking about? Why would I enjoy trading schoolyard insults with some arrogant, idiotic football player who discredited the one thing I wanted most in my life?" Suddenly you were inches apart, heat emanating from both of you as you fought.

"Like you never said I was stupid for wanting to be a footballer? Face it, love, you're just as bad as me."

And suddenly, despite all your better judgement and every bit of sense in your head, you were kissing him. You didn't know exactly how it had happened, and if anyone were to ever ask you you would absolutely pin the blame on James but there you were, out in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

Every one of your senses was on fire, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his soft curls under your fingers. Everything about James felt like he was made for you, like all the years of you revolving around each other, playing off the other's insult was just a lead-up, preparation for the very moment you kissed for the first time.

James' arms around you were warm, strong from years of working out and protective like a weighted blanket. One hand wrapped around your midsection and the other firmly on your neck you felt wholly surrounded by him, isolated in your own bubble of James.

It was probably a bad idea, but you weren't overly concerned with addressing that fact in any rush. It didn't come as you tilted your head to bring him even closer, it didn't come as you said hurried goodbyes in the pub and collected your coat, it didn't even come as you closed the door to your hotel room, undoing the buttons to James' shirt like they had a personal vendetta against you.

The admittance only came as you lay entangled with him, faces millimetres apart.

"Was that a bad idea?" You asked, genuine self-consciousness mixing with pragmatic anxiety.

"I mean, I quite enjoyed myself, love. Did you not?" James' cheeky smile made you snort out a giggle but you sobered up quickly, hitting him lightly on his toned chest.

"Don't turn this into a joke!" You ordered, "Have we just fucked everything up?" James just looked at you for a minute, taking in the sincerity in your voice and the depth of your eyes.

"Of course we haven't," He assured you. "Do you like me?"

"But--"

"Ah! Do you like me?" He reiterated and you paused, nodding shyly. "See? You like me and I like you. We'll figure everything else out. Start slow; baby steps."

"Baby steps," You agreed, sharing his smile. It really only hit you how much you actually liked James once you'd said it, finally noticing how he might've been looking at you the whole time.

You sent James off early in the morning, both of you needing to make it back to London quickly. You had to get your article written up and James had training. Thankfully there was no awkwardness in your goodbye; James had to rush to meet his parents to drive back by car and you had a train to catch. The only moment of hesitance came as you said goodbye, waving at each other with a giggle as James hopped down the steps. He hesitated halfway, turning to look at you with the glint of mischief in his eye that you'd become very well acquainted with.

In a moment he was at the top of the steps again, swooping in to steal another kiss. You rolled your eyes to hide an embarrassing smile, pushing him back in the direction he came.

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. James mimed twisting a knife in his chest but continued down the stairs nonetheless, giving you one last smile before he turned a corner and disappeared from your sight. You sighed like a schoolgirl then laughed at yourself, packing the last of your things to get home.

As you sat on the train, green landscapes passed you through the window and you felt your cell phone buzz from the minuscule pocket of your work trousers.

thinking of u :P <3

You grinned, looking out at the scenery so the people around you wouldn't be able to figure out your embarrassing secret. You felt like a teenage girl again, blushing over a text from the guy you had a crush on.

Everything turned to shit in a matter of hours after returning to London.

First, James' publicist made his statement. It wasn't necessarily terrible, but it really had no regard for you. No statement declaring you both on good terms, no coming to your defence or asking for the press to respect you. James looked like the hero saving a stupid drunk girl, and you still looked desperate for the most popular footballer in the country. You were decently sure it wasn't James' fault, but it did significantly dampen your lovesick giddiness.

The office was half-empty when you arrived, kitten heels clicking against the ground. You said a quick hello to Lily, still dutifully typing away at her computer. You followed her lead, exporting your notes to your desktop computer, formatting the piece and going through edits to have it ready for the next paper.

The sun was setting, sending orange and pink streaks through the sky when the door to your boss' office slammed open, echoing above the cubicles.

"You kissed him?" He yelled and you paled, knowing exactly what he was talking about but not how he knew. That problem was solved when he slammed the magazine down in front of you, no doubt just delivered by the skittery young receptionist running back to the elevator.

FACT OR FICTION? POTTER AND REPORTER CAUGHT SNOGGING AMIDST PUBLIC DENIAL

Fuck. That could not be worse.

The whole piece was essentially dragging your name through the absolute mud now that they had the confirmation there was something going on between you and James. The whole world thought you were sleeping to the top, or for the best scoop, and everyone hated you for it.

You looked up at your boss, words dying on your tongue.

"Please tell me that's not you," He said, grasping at the thinning hair on his head. You couldn't deny it.

"I..." You trailed off, searching for anything you could say to make it better. "I didn't mean to. And I'm being completely honest when I say that the first article was all bullshit. Things have... happened since then." You were already on the verge of tears. Even on an optimistic day, you couldn't have denied that this was utterly shit.

"Jesus." Your boss muttered, beginning to pace. "Look, I like you, you know? You do good work and you're never outta line, but I reckon the higher-ups are gonna be done with you. They wanted you out over the first article but I convinced them it was all speculation. This is proof and makes us all look bad that you're sleeping with someone you interview every other bloody week. Look, I'll do what I can in damage control, but I'd be bringing your stuff home tonight. I'm sorry."

How could he have just left you with that absolute bombshell? Effectively firing you, just like that? The tears had made their way up to your waterline, sitting there mocking you as you refused to let them fall. You submitted your piece and shut off your laptop, angrily stuffing your sparse personal decorations into your shoulder bag to get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible.

The paparazzi were waiting again, of course, like that was what you really needed. You pushed past them, making sure to land an extra hard stomp on Peter's foot, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as you heard him curse.

You sat on the tube, staring intently at your feet and trying desperately to think of anything but your current situation. You'd already been approached by someone who'd coughed out "Skank," which really hadn't done anything for your sour mood. All you wanted was to crawl into your bed and never emerge.

You wandered down the street between the metro station and your flat, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets.

"Hey!" Someone called and you glanced over on instinct, senses drawn by the interruption of an otherwise quiet evening. "You're the girl who kissed James Potter, yeah?" It was a girl still in her school uniform, probably sixteen or seventeen. You thought through your options quickly and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wicked. How was it?" She asked, chewing on pink gum. There was an aura about her that you liked, not judgemental like everyone else you'd met. If you were still in school you thought you might've been friends with her.

"Pretty good, I'd do it again." A cheeky almost-joke between the two of you, ironic given the shit that it had caused for you.

"We were talking about it at school. Pretty shit how they've treated you. Like they all wouldn't jump at a chance to get close to 'im." You liked the way that she didn't get any closer. Just the two of you standing face to face, divided by the empty road.

"Exactly what I've been saying," You agreed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"If it was the other way around, if you were the famous one, James would be getting congratulated for getting with you, not ridiculed by the mindless gossip columns. All my friends think it's utter bullshit, stopped buyin' 'em and everything." You could have kissed her if that wasn't tremendously creepy. In five minutes, this schoolgirl had vindicated everything you'd been saying for the past week in a way no one else had.

"Thank you," You said, with more sincerity than you probably should have had for a complete stranger. The girl just shrugged with a smile, nodding before continuing down the street, the sound of her leather school shoes growing quieter with every step.

You felt it in your whole body every time you thought of the interaction for the next few hours, warmth spreading through your chest as you were reminded there were still good people around.

Your other reminder of that fact came with the sound of your buzzer, the laughing of Lily and Marlene echoing off the stone of your building. As you let them in curiously they presented armfuls of takeout, the smell of Chinese food immediately floating through your flat.

Lily took the responsibility of setting out the food while Marlene took control of your little television, flipping between channels until she found a suitable romcom starting.

You didn't speak about what had happened, no one mentioned James Potter or the bloody Sunday People. Yet, there was an air of tenderness that let you know the girls knew exactly what was happening and how you were feeling about it.

Still, there was something bothering you. You couldn't give it a name immediately, only a tugging in your stomach while the girls were entertaining you, but persistent nonetheless.

It wasn't until you were all crammed into your bed, the other two peacefully asleep, that you could identify the sensation. It was an overwhelming desire, a need to write that you hadn't felt in ages. It was the same feeling that had pushed you to be a journalist in the first place, an inspiration you typically only felt watching a magical soccer final.

You crept out of your bedroom, switching on your computer at the kitchen table, squinting at the aggressive blue light. And when a blank Word document appeared before you, you started writing. Obsessively, feverishly, words poured out of you at a rate that hadn't happened since you'd started at Sunday People.

The words of the school girl fresh in your mind, you started an article vastly different from your usual kind. Instead of strategies and highlights you dissected your own experience of the past week, saying everything you hadn't let yourself unload to the paparazzi outside your office (though with fewer curse words than they would have received). It could have been minutes or hours that you were writing and you wouldn't have noticed, eyes glued on the screen in front of you.

You didn't realise you'd fallen asleep until Lily woke you gently with a hand on your shoulder, offering a steaming mug of tea. It was light outside, the world already up and awake. You were glad it was a weekend as the girls didn't need to rush off to work, cooking a simple breakfast for you all to share.

"What've you written?" Marlene asked, the second part of her sentence unnecessary: since you don't have a job to write for. You shrugged, taking a bite of some eggs.

"Just something I had to get off my chest. Might see if I can sell it to someone to tide me over 'til I figure out what I'm doing with my life."

"Can we read?" You made a 'go ahead' gesture, the computer already open to the screen.

A WOMAN'S UNWILLING WEEK IN THE PUBLIC EYE:

How a woman always loses.

You sat in mild discomfort as Lily and Marlene read your piece in silence, anxiously awaiting their reactions. They weren't what you were expecting.

When they turned back to face you, Lily had tears in her eyes, red tones brought out in her skin. Even Marlene looked uncharacteristically moved, not at all the reaction you were expecting. Firstly, it was completely unedited so you suspected it was somewhat of a mess from your midnight haze. Secondly, it was more of a vent than anything, getting your hatred for invasive paparazzi off your chest. You thought you'd all laugh about it then move on with your days.

"Lils, what's wrong?" You didn't mean to laugh, it was more out of surprise than anything else.

"It's just, it's so raw and real. It's so unfair," She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Jesus, you don't have to cry," You said lightly, "I'm fine! I hated that bloody place anyway."

"That's not the point," Marlene pointed out, "And Lily's right, this is really confronting stuff. It's great."

"Thanks," You mumbled, studying a lamp for something to do.

"Can we talk about James?" Your head snapped back to look at her.

"What about him?"

"Clearly there's been some... developments in your relationship, which we don't have to talk about--"

"Yet," Marlene interrupted.

"The point is that it looks like there's feelings involved now. What are you doing about them? Because if you publish that, it's putting everything out there, and even I can't tell how you feel about James right now," Lily finished.

"I don't want to talk to him," You said quickly, "I know it's not his fault but I can't think about him without getting mad. It's like I wrote; he ends up fine while I lose my job over one kiss."

"Understandable," Marlene nodded, "But if I know James at all, he'll be going crazy every minute that you ignore him."

You had much to consider when the girls left. The state of your career, your feelings for James, everything felt too big and overwhelming to make any decisions about. So, you took a nap.

The rest of your weekend was spent sending your then-edited article to as many newspapers and blogs as you could and hiding out in your flat, dodging James' calls.

Unfortunately, you liked him. You'd figured out that much. More unfortunately, he hadn't done anything to help you out in all this mess, benefiting from the press in a way that only England's favourite footballer could.

On Monday morning your piece was published. Not the biggest or most reputable newspaper, if your name hadn't still been trending it probably would have gone largely noticed. Instead, it blew up.

It had mixed reviews, of course, a tell-all so blatantly feminist would always attract its haters, but you were floored by the support it was receiving. Women were validating your experiences in a way you hadn't expected even a few days ago. It made you not so scared to leave the house anymore.

On Tuesday morning, Remus called you. You had the thought that it might have been James calling to grovel on Remus' phone, but you thought it was a smart enough idea you'd indulge anyway. If it was Sirius you wouldn't have picked up.

Instead, it was actually Remus.

"Come to the media room this afternoon," He said, evidently not wasting time with pleasantries.

"What?" You asked, caught off-guard.

"Just do it. Two o'clock."

"Remus, you know I don't have a job anymore, right?"

"Come off it, you know anyone on the team would let you in. You've got quite a name for yourself," He chanced a joke and you rolled your eyes.

"What, whore?" You retorted, only a little worried it would be true.

"I'm hanging up," Was all he said before the line went dead. You huffed, snapping your phone closed with all the attitude of a spoiled private schoolgirl.

Yet, at two o'clock you were standing in front of the media room at James' team's stadium, questioning all of your life choices.

The room seemingly went silent when you entered, dozens of pairs of eyes staring you down as you nervously stuck to the wall. You felt the derogatory, leering stares from all the sleazy men who'd been accusing you of sleeping with players since you first started in the field. It made you want to drop dead.

James made his way to the lectern up the front of the room with a cough, quieting down the chaos.

"Afternoon, everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here, I've got some things I'd like to address.

"As you all well know, I've been a frequent face in the papers lately, and not for my brilliant playing as it usually is. I recently got followed down a street after a night out looking after an old friend who happened to be a colleague of yours. Now I know that my godly good looks lead you to believe that I don't feel the same as all of you, but I do. And I'd like you all to consider how you'd feel if a man with a camera followed you all the way home after you'd been out for a night with your friends and a few cheeky drinks. It's pretty invasive if you can't imagine.

"Now, all this press hasn't really affected me. However, my dear friend has been subject to misogynistic articles, slut-shaming and harassment all because we were seen out together and a few hateful words from someone I used to consider a mate." You had no idea where this was going, but you were absolutely fascinated. James was more well-spoken, more mature and solemn than you'd ever seen him, though he still had his audience in the palm of his hand with his casual jokes. It was a masterclass in public speaking.

"If you haven't read any of my friend's pieces I would highly recommend them; she's got a brilliant voice and I personally read everything she publishes. However, I'm not here to talk about her work; I'd actually like to talk about her if you all don't mind."

What the hell was happening?

"In the midst of all these articles over the last week, I know you've all seen various pictures of us, including from secondary school. A few come to my mind, our graduation picture is a highlight, but I'd really like to talk about this one." James brandished a printed-out photo you recognised instantly.

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

Your life wasn't real, it absolutely could not be.

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

The room started to trickle out but you were stuck to your spot against the wall, frozen in absolute shock. You hardly even noticed the dirty looks you got from some of the people you'd been working alongside for years.

You spotted James in another corner, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and messing with his hair. A nervous tell.

The room was almost completely empty when you approached him, heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

"Hey stranger," You said softly, feeling way out of your depth. He turned in an instant, smile lighting up his face then melting away as it was replaced with an insecure frown.

"Was that okay? I didn't want to embarrass you but I wanted to step up and do something and protect you and--"

"Have you really loved me since we were twelve?" You cut him off bluntly.

"Every day since, as I've figured out," He agreed with a slight nod, glasses slipping down his nose slightly.

"What about all the flirting with Lily? The other girls over the years?"

"So obviously fake. Distractions. It's never been anyone but you, love."

You could only stare at him for a moment, your whole world shifting beneath your feet. James' face became increasingly worried, brow furrowing more the longer you remained unresponsive.

"If you don't feel the same that's totally alright, I still stand by what I did and I don't want you being harassed for--"

You'd always thought that cutting someone off with a kiss was ridiculously cheesy, reserved for shitty Hallmark movies with grown-up child actors who never got their big break. Turns out though, when you realise that your girlish crush on the star footballer has actually been a complicated love of twelve years, you don't really want to waste any more time.

When you woke up on Wednesday morning with James next to you, body heat keeping you cozy, you were convinced you had to be dreaming. When you eventually got up to check your emails and start your day the hypothesis was only solidified by the impossible email waiting in your inbox.

The fucking BBC wanted to hire you as a football commentator and sports writer. Your dream job at your dream company. If you let out an embarrassing squeal then that was none of your business.

You were still convinced you were hallucinating the whole thing until James came in with his biggest smile and that look in his eyes that told you he probably had a hand in getting your name on the BBC desks.

Even a few weeks ago you would have been mad at him, assuming it was mocking or he had ulterior motives. But it wasn't a few weeks ago anymore, and James Potter's whole, endless heart belonged to you. You weren't letting that go anytime soon.

[kazusys]

— kissing under the mistletoe.

kissing genshin men under the mistletoe! / fluff / no cw / other: you’re not dating in all scenarios! (❕) a/n: i did NOT proofread. but this took me a bit… hope you guys enjoy nonetheless! happy holidays! :)

characters included: albedo, childe, cyno, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, tighnari, wriothesley, xiao, and zhongli.

wc: ~4.4k words

“relax, it’ll be fine!” he said. “just lead her to the mistletoe when you two are chatting at the party; after all, you both are probably going to stick together the entire time anyways.”

that was kaeya’s advice. of course albedo took it, considering the probabilities of it working due to his insane roster of people fawning over him for just existing. of course he’d be more educated in this area.

but how would he be able to enact said advice if the guy who gave the advice in the first place was busy taking up all your time at the stupid party?

albedo was ready to just head home at this point. there was no point in waiting for you if he was most likely going to chicken out in the end anyways.

a boisterous laugh from kaeya brought albedo out of his little slump as he looked over, watching as the guy pushed you lightly his direction. you seemed… almost bashful. it was cute.

you shuffled through the people dancing and walking around before stopping in front of him.

“hey, ‘bedo.” you smile.

“(y/n), it’s good to see you here.” albedo returned, realizing that besides the initial hello you two shared before you were whisked away elsewhere, this was the first time he’d been able to talk to you tonight.

“good to see you too, i was thinking— there’s this place i wanna show you outside of the party, would you want an escape for a bit?”

he followed you immediately.

the spot was serene. the backdrop of all the constellations and the hanging moon in the sky were in full view, a couple trees here and there adorning the already pleasing landscape. albedo wished he had brought something to paint with, but a mental remembrance would have to do for now.

“it’s… stunning.” he murmured out as you continued walking. you went over to a tree whose leaves leaned forward just a bit, providing some shade. you sat down under it, patting the ground next to you.

this was his sort of paradise. the cool breezes, the quiet atmosphere, the world seemingly frozen as you two sat so close that one movement would have your arms brushing together.

he made that one movement.

you gave him a glance before seemingly staring at the sky. “look up in the branches of the tree.”

he did so without a word, his eyes zeroing in at the singular, small irregularity amongst the greenery of the tree.

mistletoe.

a light blush spread across his face, his eyes widening as they faced yours, which were already staring at him. he forced his expression to go back to being as neutral as he could manage, before cupping your face with one hand and bringing you in for a kiss.

needless to say, kaeya was a good matchmaker.

the holidays have always been a heartwarming time with ajax’s family, not to mention that ever since you joined him, he waits twice as excitedly to see them again.

he loves the domestication of you with his younger siblings, his parents, him; in a warm house with snowflakes floating down amongst the scenic landscape outside and everyone inside away from the troubles of the world. all his loved ones, together, in one place, safe.

taking your hands and spinning you around, he lets go of one to hold your hand as you both sprint to the house ahead. you love how his eyes shine as he knocks on the door, his younger siblings tackling him and squeezing you tightly to the ground with his parents reprimanding them and herding them back inside.

you’re grateful for the warmth of the house as you shed off your winter gear and help ajax get off his as his siblings spout off with questions for him that they couldn’t fit in the letters sent back and forth between them.

at one point, they bring their big brother in to whisper something in hushed voices. ajax chuckles as they scurry off, shaking his head and smiling brightly at you. he almost seems like a kid again, the way his smile reaches far and he looks like he can’t get any happier.

you see teucer poke his head out from behind a wall and beckon ajax over. he goes over, but not without a glance to you showing off the mischievous glint in his eyes.

you wait in anticipation with a smile as you hear everyone with him giggle and push him out with a newly acquired headpiece, a headband with a string attached to a mistletoe.

a few seconds go by with your laughter before ajax teasingly says, “so, are you going to come over here, or?”

you be sure to give a thumbs up to his siblings before tackling him in a hug and bringing him in close for a smooch or two.

“stay still,” you softly chided, “i’m not going to be able to get all this sand out if you don’t.”

“sorry.” cyno replied, glancing back at the ceiling. of all methods…

this was purely tighnari and collei’s doing. they’re the only ones who know cyno’s preferred place to sit as you “help get the bits of persistent sand in his hair” even though he knows that he can do it himself.

when had they placed that there?

cyno quietly sighed as you finished with the ends of his strands, carefully taking off your gloves and putting down your brush on the towels beneath you both.

“alright, then— good night, cyno.” you say as you get up, although hesitant. you wanted to spend more time with him, but with his narrow schedule, you don’t mind putting his rest before your own desires. you wait for him to stand and get off the towels, which he does, before cradling them in a way so that the sand on top of them won’t spill. you give a small “bye, sleep well,” before turning to leave.

you feel his coarse fingers delicately wrap around your upper arm, a gasp leaving your lips as he pulled you back with a force that you’d be able to escape from if you wanted to.

“cy—”

“look up.”

you do as told.

as soon as your eyes meet the red and green symbol, you feel the same fingers that pulled you to him hold your chin, bringing your focus to him.

he speaks through the meeting of your eyes, and you allow him with a response of your lips against his.

he separates after a bit before diving back in. after such a small taste of paradise, he can’t help but want more.

of course someone put a mistletoe above the doorway of the tavern. and of course he didn’t remove it incase you came by today. and of course kaeya teased him for it.

no matter how annoying, he’d go through it if it meant you’d come to him at the end of the day.

and that you did.

you rushed past the door in excitement to tell him about your hectic, but interesting, day as diluc ignored the knowing stare he got from the calvary captain.

with a small smile, you two stayed talking until midnight, when diluc finished cleaning and closed up the tavern.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘luc.” you smile, as he does the same despite his diminishing hope at being able to kiss you under the protruding plant that you two were still standing under.

just as he came to the conclusion that he’d have to be the one who’d initiate the kiss, you leaned in close to place a kiss on the corner of his lips. “you’re obvious when you want something, you know that?”

he chuckled a bit after he recovered. “you just know me well.”

he put a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in again.

“your office is so… bland. for someone like you, i expected at least some interesting decorations especially during this season.”

“‘for someone like you’?” kaeya rose an eyebrow, eyeing the box you set on his desk. “and furthermore, i haven’t had the time to decorate for the season! i’m always busy with work or spending time with you.”

“or at the tavern,” you pointed out, taking items and sorting them out across the floor from the box. “hmm, red or blue?”

“both. and what if i was just waiting for you to come in and help me since we both did a pretty good job last year?” it wasn’t a total lie. he was waiting for you, but only to be able to spend more time together.

“straight line or dips? then i think that’d be a lie,” you countered, “after all, your office was as brightly adorned as the outside all those years back before i came in to help.”

“on the walls? straight would be easier. dips would look good on the desk, though.” kaeya said as he adjusted some of the ribbons he fluffed out. “i like your company.”

a smile creased your features as you stayed quiet at the thought for a few seconds before replying with a “i like yours, too.”

eventually, you both stepped back to revel the sight. you sipped the last bits of the now lukewarm drink kaeya brought for you earlier. you remembered the way your fingers brushed against each other and the small spark that you hoped he shared.

you felt him brush a piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

when did he get so close?

he tilted your head up to the ceiling, your heart beating fast and resounding in your ears.

and then he kissed you, soft and delicately.

amidst the glowing lights and cheery decor, nothing could’ve matched the high spirits you and kaeya were feeling right then and there.

kazuha's observant. he always has been. so he’ll always know when you’re not giving yourself as much love as you should be. case in point…

“i know that i am not the most perfected in this art…” says the guy who can make cussing sound flowery and sweet sounding, “but i made this small book for you. it’s full of haikus and other forms of poetry containing everything i find attractive about you.”

you take the quite hefty book full of papers and some apparent trinkets sticking out of some of the pages (like flowers that remind him of you and such) with care. its title is (y/n), my muse and eternity.

you can’t seem to find your words. “kazuha… this is…”

he smiles at how happy you look.

he knows that insecurities are far from that of the like of small insects and the such, in which you can just kill them with a little flick or small press of a youth’s finger.

insecurities are plagues, brought from hell itself to block out what objectivity sees.

he knows that his words won’t be enough to quell your troubles permanently, but he’ll damn well try just to see that smile and see you free from what’s trapping you in that moment.

he flips the pages to the end where papers face you devoid of ink. he gestures above, where a small plant glistens amidst the dull space where you two are seated. you swear that wasn’t there when you walked in.

you feel him slowly trace your arm, as if asking permission to pull you closer. you lace your fingers together, relishing in the warmth of his presence as you let yourself come closer.

his lips meet yours, soft as his appearance but as passionate as his dreams and ambitions.

and when you two come apart, he takes ink and a quill from a nearby table and fills in the blank page with new words, swiftly getting the mistletoe from above to tuck into the pages like a bookmark.

lips—

with the snow falling

in the slumber of the world

Heaven-sent are they

with warmth to my days

with feelings of home in you

paradise is found

“a private show right now?” you softly laugh.

“exactly! and you’re in for a treat today— i picked up a book per someone’s recommendation about the significance of different flowers and their meanings! and i will incorporate that in the trick i’m about to show you!” he spouted excitedly, bowing in front of you as he usually does before a performance.

“well then, let’s see what you’ve got for me today that’s different than all the other shows you’ve already shown me!” you say, sitting in the chair he prepared ahead of time.

he smiles. taking his hat off again, he swirls his fingers over the opening.

“oh, it seems there’s something stuck; give me a second…” and with a yank, out he pulls a bouquet of rainbow roses. he offers them to you with a warm grin.

you take it with wide eyes, holding it close to you as you relish in how your fingers brushed against his and the remembrance of the meaning of these flowers.

taking advantage of the proximity, lyney brushes back a piece of your hair, reaching behind your ear and pulling out a piece of mistletoe with small buds blossoming on the branches.

you feel your face become unbearably hot.

he leans in to whisper. “this part isn’t a trick, by the way… these flowers represent my feelings rather well, i think. do you accept them?”

you can feel your heart pounding as you nod, his lips reaching yours as soon as you do. it’s passionate, just as the flowers represent.

once you both pull back, he says, “how do you rate your performance?”

“i’ll rate it ten out of ten if you kiss me again.”

he does. 10/10!!

what a stupid touchy feeling tradition. absolutely stupid. absolutely not worth his time setting up just because of your stupid romantic fantasies.

well, i guess that makes him stupid, then.

if all goes wrong, he has at least five back-up plans ready. so there’s nothing to lose, right?

except maybe possibly hopefully the norm of friendship you two have changing into something more.

but, he knows that if his hopes are set too high, they can come crashing down more hurtful than falling from a fifty-story skyscraper.

so he settles for stomping out his icky hopes and dreams for this encounter in favor of not going insane. at most, you were probably going to just peck him on the cheek as a ‘friendly gesture’. or slap him altogether.

it was still a good ten minutes or so before your designated meeting time, so he closed his eyes and waited beneath one of the shady areas of the forest hangout you both discussed on, listening for the sound of your footsteps. to his mild surprise, he heard them coming just a few minutes later.

you emerged from the trees, your eyes widening a bit before smiling to seemingly cover it up. “scara’! sorry, did i make you wait for long?”

he shook his head, eyeing the basket you were holding before meeting your gaze. “you’re fine. i just arrived.” which was a lie, he came extra early to prepare.

“that’s good to hear. i met with the traveler a few days ago, and he taught me a few new recipes. i was wondering if you’d like to try them out?” you say, taking a small picnic blanket out. scaramouche offered to take it as he spread it out under the tree he was leaning against.

“sounds good, your cooking’s always something i look forward to.” he replied, throwing that compliment in for good measure.

you laugh softly, opening the basket and setting out the dishes. he can’t help but notice a certain small plant in there as well for a brief second before it’s gone, covered by a few napkins shifting around as you arrange the food and utensils.

ah. well…

he stops you momentarily, gently moving your hands off the basket as he brings it closer to himself, knelt down as he rummages through it and pulls out the small piece of mistletoe inside.

you’re quick to talk. “oh, that’s… that’s just a lucky charm i carry around. i… a friendsaidthat it’s supposed to bring good luck! and fortune! and i brought it to ensure that you wouldn’t uh—get food poisoning or something, y’know? or so that i won’—!”

you’re startled by scaramouche pulling you to your feet, a smirk on his face as his hands trail up to your face. his thumbs trace the sides of it as he says, “if you look up, i’m sure you’ll find something very confidence-boosting.”

you do.

he slowly leans in, like he’s seen other couples do. and he swears you’re something else and that something zapped his lips and spread through the rest of his body, because the moment your lips met it felt as if a small electrocution was taking place in each part of his being.

it’s almost so overwhelming that he also swears that he can feel his own heartbeat in there. what did you do?

a small paradise of his own, and he plans on never losing it.

(also something ate a portion your food— it wasn’t you or scaramouche— but hey, at least that means that he can spend time with you cooking that same dish again!)

sleeping out in the forest can be difficult, but for people like tighnari, you just get used to it.

however, that’s not the case this time around with the only sound that his ears seem to be registering being the sounds of you outside your tent, sitting on a stump, writing in your plant/personal(? he thinks?) journal, and very much awake after he told you to rest up for tomorrow.

he sighs, getting up. he’s not letting you do this.

you immediately turn your head to the sound of him exiting his tent, knowing you’re in for an earful about taking proper care of yourself. you know he cares, but at least wait until you’re finished writing these last few words…

“i told you at least an hour ago to head to sleep. you’ll need the energy for tomorrow.” he walks closer, ending in front of you with a hand on his hip, which he drops as soon as you look up at him.

“i know, but…”

“you can fill in whatever you want to fill in tomorrow. come on.” he gently ushers you to your feet, taking your hand and confiscating your notebook.

“tighn—!”

“i’ll give it back tomorrow. i don’t trust you not to write in it in your tent.” he leaves no room for complaint, evading all your attempts in retrieving the book until you eventually give up with a more than devastated look.

you reluctantly lie down, tighnari watching you till you put your covers over yourself.

“good night, (y/n),” he gives a small smile, “tell me if anything nearby irritates your senses. i won’t mind being waken up for that.”

and with that, he leaves.

he spares a glance at the notebook in his hand, still open to the page you were writing on. he had no intentions of reading it, but when your name’s written down in someone’s time, you’re bound to be curious why.

𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦

𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

— 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

you’ve certainly done your research. after swiftly skimming through that portion…

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴

— 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵: 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘺. 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵

that’s where it ends. in the book, a small mistletoe plant is nestled in between the pages. tighnari can feel his face heat and his tail jerking around excitedly behind him, prompting him to take a deep breath to calm down. it’s no use, really.

you like him?

he can’t help the smile that flutters up, taking the plant out and dropping off your notebook in his tent.

he goes over to yours, knocking his foot against the rocks outside as a sort of doorbell. he knows you’re awake.

meanwhile, you’re panicking and on the verge of running out and taking your chances in the dangers of the forest in the dark. you hear his knocking.

“you read it.” you manage from behind the curtain like doors. “i’m sor—”

“may i come in?”

he hears you inhale deeply. hesitant footsteps make their way over, opening the entrance to him.

immediately, he takes your hand. lifting his other arm, the mistletoe he has a hold of dangles above you both.

“i would,” is all he says before his lips press against yours.

both of your worlds spin, and every other noise in the avidya forest blurs away.

when you separate, he’s the first to speak with rosy cheeks decorating his features.

“mistletoe is also categorized as a parasitic plant, meaning it depends on other plants to survive by drawing nutrients from them. be sure to add that to your journal.”

“tighnari.”

he kisses you again in apology.

“your knuckles are all bruised again…” you mutter, taking his hands into your own. you brush your thumbs over the especially calloused areas.

“it’s really no big deal…” he murmurs, thinking you to be sweet for caring so heavily about him.

you get your bandages out. “are there any other places that are injured that i should know about?”

he shakes his head no, but then answers verbally realizing that with your eyes focusing on his hands, you probably didn’t see.

a couple minutes later and you’re done, a lot sooner than wriothesley would’ve wanted.

“flex your fingers.” he does so. you take the hand you just bandaged to fix one loose end. “i think that’s it…”

he subconsciously holds your hand in his. as per tradition— a sort of inside joke between you two— you bring his fingers to your lips and kiss his bandaged knuckles with a smile.

when you do the same to the other hand, he chuckles. you look at his head tilted upwards, looking up at the ceiling. you trail up as well, your eyes widening for a moment.

“it looks like sigewinne must’ve slipped in and done some decorating for me. we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

you recall her words from a few days ago to you. “well, if you don’t make a move soon, don’t be surprised when i intervene.”

you meet his eyes. he looks… bashful? embarrassed?

you gather up your confidence before it evaporates and move up to kiss him.

He stiffens before melting into the kiss, bringing you closer with the hand not holding yours on the small of your back and the other intertwining your fingers.

he chased your lips after you separated, and well; you both didn’t leave his office for a bit.

you definitely made sure to hug and give sigewinne a new sticker sheet afterwards.

you thought up the idea a while back, but never acted on it. xiao was… well, xiao. you simply didn’t think he’d like it, especially if he didn’t like you in that way. that’d just be awkward.

so you never did it, until one day after you consulted zhongli.

“it seems he does feel the same way, after all the talks we’ve shared of the topic being you, to whom he speaks very highly of.”

you smile at the thought now as you sit beside xiao, explaining the topic of mistletoe, which apparently he overheard from some people walking past that he wanted to learn about. what he heard you don’t know, so you prompt to start from the very beginning from its origins all the way to its tradition.

he stays quiet with a few questions throughout your speech, seemingly deep in thought.

you think that’s a good sign.

when you’re done, you look at him only to find him already staring at you.

“would you want to do that with me?”

your eyes widen at the sudden sentence before you throw out a response. “yes, i would.”

“i’ll be right back.” and before you can say anything, he vanishes. he comes back a few minutes later with something in his hand. a small mistletoe.

you stand up to his level, eyeing the blush beginning to spread across his face.

you smile serenely, taking his hand holding the plant and raising it above your heads. you then take the lead and lean in to kiss him.

in all of his years of being alive, xiao thinks he’s never felt so… actually alive. it’s always like that around you. you take him away from the automatic responses he gives and seemingly endless monotony that is slaying monsters and the sort. you give him some sort of essence he can’t describe that he’s been lacking all these years, decades, centuries, millenniums.

he loves you so dearly.

and when you separate, he finds himself seeking more, pulling you closer and kissing you again.

it’s his sort of reward for suffering for so long without this, he supposes.

“it’s rather late,” zhongli glanced over at the night sky, “shall we get going?”

you nod. “thanks for accompanying me today; though, i still feel guilty for taking up your time…”

he gives you a reassuring smile. “it is of no concern. i was not particularly busy, and any time spent with you is never wasted.”

you smile back. “you flatter me too much.”

“it is not as if you do not deserve it.” he responds. you can’t help but widen your smile. he continues speaking. “you’re staying over at the baiju guesthouse for now until your renovations are completed, correct?”

“i am! it’s been pleasant so far, and the decorations adorning the building for the season are definitely a sight to wake up to!”

a good amount of talking later, and finally at around midnight, you both arrive.

“i’m afraid i now must apologize for taking up your time, you ought to rest for tomorrow. shall we meet up soon?” his expression is soothing, but if you look a little deeper, a small glint in his eyes shows a bit of hopefulness and something else.

“of course, and…” you trail off, glancing up at the archway you two are standing under in front of the guesthouse. “happy holidays, zhongli.”

you quickly kiss him on the cheek before hurrying away, leaving a stunned zhongli in your wake, hand to the place where you kissed him, seemingly in awe.

he says your name delicately, like a sacred word meant to be worshipped. you stop your hand on the door, turning your head over to see him reach for your hands and spinning you around.

a small intake of air leaves you as he walks you both back under the mistletoe above that you spotted earlier. he then leans in close.

“may i?”

and you close the distance.

happy holidays indeed.

©️kazusys — 24/12/24; do not plagiarize/steal, repost, translate, and/or claim any of my works as your own.

[springtyme]

heyy love, could you do an aaron hotchner x fem bau reader where they dated in secretly for a while but then he broke up with her. the reason he broke up with her is because he is her boss and that always was something that made him feel doubtful about their relationship. it’s up to you if you want to end it with an happy ending.

thank youu

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ♡

Thank you so much for the request, dear anon! Such a lovely one and I was so happy to write for Hotch! mwah <3

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader || Main masterlist || Spotify

summary: You suspect that you've been in love with Aaron Hotchner since you first laid eyes on him three years ago. Now you're on your way to Idaho to go on your first case together since he broke your heart two weeks ago.

word count: 4.5k

warnings/tags: Angst and fluff. Boss/employee relationship. Hurt/comfort. Heartbreak. Kissing. Sharing a bed. (first time I write for Hotch, so please bear with me) Haven't proof read yet. I don't know if I really like how it ended up tbh, but maybe it's just because I was really tired while writing it..?

You keep your gaze on the pages of the book, despite the words keep blurring together and after having read the same paragraph four times over, without even having registered what you have read. You’ve given up on actually getting any reading done, but you don’t want anyone talking to you right now and you still have almost four hours left before you land in Idaho. So you keep eyes glued to the book, hoping that the act of pretending to read will deter any unwanted conversation.     

You can feel his eyes on you, not all the time, but you feel how his gaze occasionally lingers on you. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you sense his presence nonetheless.  

Taking in a deep breath you look up from the book to steal a glance in his direction, catching his eye for a brief moment before he looks away. There’s a flicker of something in his expression, a hint of longing that mirrors your own. But just as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by the stoic mask he wears so well as he continues his conversation with Derek. 

The last two weeks have been painful, filled with a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions since Aaron had ended your relationship, before it even had a chance to really begin. It’s been three years since you joined the BAU and from the very beginning you had felt drawn to Aaron Hotchner in a way that defied logic and reason, like there was a connection between you that transcended the professional boundaries of boss and subordinate. 

A silly crush is what it had started as, but the more you got to know him, the more you realized that what you felt was far more than just that. It was a deep, undeniable attraction, a connection that went beyond the surface level. And as time passed, that initial spark grew into something more profound, something that stirred your soul and filled your heart with warmth. 

Sometimes you had let yourself hope that he felt the same way, that the moments of shared glances and unspoken words between you held a deeper meaning, but you had never dared act on it, or let yourself get your hopes up too high. The reality of Aaron’s position as your boss and the boundaries it imposed had always stood as a barrier. The unspoken rules of professionalism, the fear of risking his or your career and the harmony of the team had kept your feelings hidden, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. 

It was three months ago that things had changed between you. It had been a moment of vulnerability, a shared confession during a late-night conversation with the raw emotions of the aftermath of an exceptionally harrowing case that had laid bare the depths of your emotions, and the longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long had reached a point of no return. 

He had kissed you that night and it was sweet and tender, yet charged with unspoken desire and desperation. It was a moment of surrender, a brief glimpse into a world where the barriers between you could be broken down and the feelings you had both been suppressing could be allowed to flourish. 

The next couple months had been a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered confessions, each one deepening the bond between you in ways that words could never fully capture. There were secret meetings in secluded corners of the BAU office, stolen kisses in the quiet of the night, and shared glances that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a shadow began to loom over your newfound connection. Aaron had started to act distant and reserved, his once warm and affectionate demeanor now replaced by a noticeable aloofness. And two weeks ago on a night where the both of you had stayed late to finish some reports he had told you that it all had been a mistake, and that the two of you should maintain a strictly professional relationship moving forward. 

His words had cut through the air with a sharp finality and landed like a heavy blow, shattering the fragile hope that had still lingered within you. Aaron’s eyes had been averted, unable to meet your gaze as he spoke the words that shattered your heart.

You steal another glance at Aaron, watching as he maintains his composure in conversation with Derek, his mask of professionalism firmly in place. 

You turn back to your book, the words still a jumbled mess on the page. You can’t pretend to read anymore, not when your heart is heavy with memories and unspoken words. With a sigh, you close the book, making Emily, who is seated across the aisle, glance up from the case file she is reading with a questioning look. 

You offer her a faint smile, attempting to convey a sense of normalcy despite the turmoil swirling within you. 

“You okay?” she asks as she sets aside the case file. You appreciate her gesture, knowing that Emily’s intuition often went beyond words.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on you. With a small nod, you offer Emily a reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a lot on my mind,” you reply softly, the words carrying a weight that belie their simplicity.

Emily nods in understanding, her gaze holding a sense of sympathy. “He’s an idiot, by the way,” she says with a wry smile, and you feel how your heart stops for a second, panicking at the thought of Emily uncovering the truth of what has unfolded between you and Aaron. 

“What do you mean?” you stammer, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for Emily’s response.

Emily just smiles at you as she picks up her file again. “We’re profilers, it’s not hard to read between the lines,” Emily says with a knowing glint in her eyes, her smile reassuring and understanding. “And you’re not as hard to read as you think, it’s clear that you have been dating someone, you have been looking like a smitten kitten for months, it’s been really cute to see, by the way, but something has changed recently. You’ve been distant, and often lost in thought sulking,” Emily continues, her tone gentle yet perceptive. 

It’s not like it really surprises you, given how perceptive Emily is, and how deeply you’ve been feeling the shifts in your relationship with Aaron, but you had still hoped that you could have hidden your feelings from colleagues. 

“So, yeah, whoever he is that has you feeling like this is an idiot, you’re clearly a catch,” Emily says with a reassuring smile, her words carrying a sense of warmth and understanding.

You feel relief wash over you, though Emily has sensed that you’ve been heartbroken, she hasn’t figured out that it is your boss that has been the course of it. 

“Thanks, Em,” you say, offering the dark haired woman a tired but grateful smile.

Emily returns your smile. “If you ever need to talk or just... not talk, I’m here,” she offers, her voice warm and reassuring.

“I appreciate that,” you say, and you do really mean it, but you know that you’re not ready to talk about any of this yet. “But I think I’ll try to take a nap first, hopefully clear my head a bit before we land.” 

“Mm, sounds like a plan,”Emily responds with a soft chuckle. 

Grabbing the blanket from the empty seat next to you, you lean back in your seat, engulfing your body in the soft, fluffy material. 

Before closing your eyes you cast one last glance at Aaron, his profile etched against the soft glow of the cabin lights. The memories of stolen moments with stolen kisses floods your mind, mingling with the ache of his recent rejection. You feel a pang in your heart, a mix of longing and sorrow, as you turn away, curling up in your seat, closing your eyes to the world outside.

You pull the blanket closer around you, the soft warmth of the blanket envelops you, cocooning you in a sense of comfort and security, providing a shield against the turmoil of your heart. The gentle hum of the airplane engines lulls you into a state of relaxation, the rhythmic sound serving as a soothing backdrop to your thoughts and emotions. 

As you feel yourself drifting further into the realm of sleep, your senses start to weaken, the sounds of the airplane cabin fading into a distant murmur and you barely register the tears gently sliding down your cheeks before you drift off. 

· · · · · 

You’re softly pulled out of sleep by the gentle touch of a hand on your shoulder. As you slowly flutter your eyes open, the soft glow of the cabin lights illuminates the figure beside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead, we’re about to land,” Derek’s voice is warm and filled with a hint of amusement as he gently rouses you from your slumber.

You blink a few times, the remnants of sleep still lingering in your mind as you adjust to the reality of the present moment. With a small smile, you offer Derek a nod of gratitude. Slowly, you sit up in your seat, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you get ready for touchdown. 

As the plane begins its descent, you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - longing, sorrow, and a hint of resignation. The turbulence of your heart echoes the turbulence in the jet cabin as you start dissenting onto a lower altitude.     

As the cabin lights dim in preparation for landing, you look up to find Aaron’s eyes looking in your direction, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he looks away, a shadow covering his features in the soft glow. This would all be so much easier if he would stop looking at you all the time.    

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as the plane continues its descent. The mix of longing and sorrow in your heart feels almost suffocating, but you push it aside. You have to focus, have to keep your head clear for the sake of the case, you are a professional and you are not going to let your emotions cloud your mind. As the wheels touch the runway with a slight jolt, signaling your arrival in Idaho, you

And as the team disembarks from the plane and makes their way to the awaiting SUVs, you feel a sense of resolve settling within you, happy to no longer be confined to the limited room of the jet cabin and as you step out into the crisp evening air, you release a sigh of relief. 

You watch Aaron walk ahead of you, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable as he walks to one of the cars and you beeline for the other. You keep your gaze fixed outside the window for most of the car ride, watching the landscape pass by in a blur as the car speeds towards its destination, a little sleepy town about an hour away. 

As you and the team arrive at the local police station, you can feel the tension between you and Aaron simmering just beneath the surface. The case at hand requires your full attention, and you push aside the turbulent thoughts and emotions that threaten to consume you as you focus on the task at hand.

Throughout the evening and early night, you work alongside the team, profiling the unsub and piecing together clues to hopefully catch the unsub before they strike again. The familiarity of the work, the rhythm of profiling and investigating grounding you in the present moment, making you go into a state of laser focused professionalism. You find a sense of purpose in the work you do, a reminder that you are more than the turmoil of your emotions.

But as the night wears on, the team regroups at the hotel to get a few hours of sleep before continuing the investigation in the morning. You find yourself standing outside the small hotel, looking up at the dark, star lit sky and as you turn to head inside and join the rest of the team, you feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as you see Aaron standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you, his usual stoic expression faltered, his brown eyes softening as they meet yours.   

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing in the quiet night, and suddenly, you know that the decision you have made to the hard choice you’ve struggled with for the past two weeks is the right one. 

 Without saying a word, you walk towards him, a mix of uncertainty and determination coursing through you. As you come to a stop in front of him, he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand to silence him. “Not here,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, and you gently take his hand, leading him towards a secluded corner of the hotel grounds. 

As you come to a stop, you turn to face him, the dim light of the night casting shadows across his face. With a heavy sigh, you search his eyes for any sign of the man you once knew, the man who had kissed you with such tenderness and held you with such care, the man you think might’ve even loved you. You had loved him, had long before he kissed you, and you still love him.

 “Aaron, I…” you begin, trailing off as you feel all the words in your head leave you as you look into his eyes, remembering that night he had kissed you for the first time. It had been a late night just like this one, it had been the first time you had ever called him by his first name. 

“Let’s sit,” he says, his voice gentle yet strained, as he guides you to a nearby bench. You both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Aaron speaks, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for hurting you, for leading you on, for... for everything.” His words are filled with regret, and you can see the pain in his eyes, a pain that mirrors your own. 

He reaches out his hand, hesitating before resting it on yours. His touch is soft and hesitant but filled with unspoken longing and you feel how your heart skips a beat, how you have missed the feeling of him touching you, even if it’s just the slightest of touches. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice now barely above a whisper. 

‘But it did hurt, it hurt so, so much’, is what you want to say. But as you look into Aaron’s eyes, filled with regret and vulnerability, you find yourself unable to form the words, the intensity in the warm, chocolate brown depths of his gaze rendering you speechless. You see the conflict within him, the turmoil of emotions swirling beneath the surface, and you feel the need to avert your gaze.  

You look down at his hand on yours, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine in the balm night air. For a moment, you allow yourself to savor the familiar sensation, the connection that still linger between you despite the circumstances.

Aaron’s hand tightens slightly around yours, a silent plea for understanding. “You deserve so much better than that,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

You take a deep breath, the words forming in your mind before you speak them out loud. “Maybe I don’t want you to decide for me what I do and don’t deserve,” you say, looking up at him again, your voice steady despite the feelings swirling within you. Aaron’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mix of emotions crossing his features.

Now it’s his turn to be lost for words, which for some reason seems to give you a bit more courage. You fill your lungs with another deep breath before opening your mouth.  

“I’m quitting,” you declare, your voice firm and resolute. You’ve been struggling with making the decision, but as you look at Aaron now, face lit up by the soft moon light you know that it is the only decision for you, you are never gonna be able to let him go if you keep working for the BAU. “I’m turning in my resignation letter when we get back from this case.”

Aaron’s eyes widen in shock, his grip on your hand tightening even more as he processes your words. The weight of your statement hangs heavy in the air between you, the unspoken implications of what this means for both of you settling in. You can see how a myriad of emotions flicker across his face – surprise, concern, and perhaps a glimmer of something else that you can’t quite place.

“You can’t do that,” Aaron’s voice is firm but filled with a mix of concern and resignation, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt

You can’t help but feel a pang of hurt at his words, it’s not like you had expected him to be happy about your decision, but a little, and probably naive, part of you had hoped that he would acknowledge that it would be the solution to how the two of you could be together, hoped that he still wanted that. But you’re not leaving the BAU for the slim chance that you can be with Aaron. You’re quitting because it’s become clear to you that it is the only solution. If the only time you can push aside the pain of being around him is when you’re actively investigating  a violent crime case, you have to let him go, and you can only do that by leaving the BAU. 

“Yes, I can… I have to, I think,” you say firmly, yet you feel your heart breaking a little by the thought of leaving. “I need to do this for myself. For my own well-being,” you continue, your gaze unwavering as you look into his eyes. “I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when it’s not.” 

Aaron remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. Finally, he sighs, a hint of resignation in his voice. “I never wanted it to come to this,” he admits, his voice heavy with regret.

“I know,” you reply softly, a tinge of sorrow coloring your words. “But we both knew the risks when we started this.”

“I should never have put you in this position,” Aaron says, his gaze dropping to the ground as he speaks. “I should never have kissed you that night. Ilet my own feelings cloud my judgment, and I hurt you in the process. I’m your boss, and I took advantage, and I-I hurt you, and…��� 

“No, look at me, please.” You reach out and gently cub his cheek in your hand, making him meet your gaze. “Aaron, it wasn’t just you. I wanted it too, I wanted to be with you,” you confess, your voice breaking slightly with emotion. “I wanted to take the risk because I thought it was worth it. And maybe it was, for a while. But we can’t keep going like this, Aaron. It’s not fair to either of us.” 

Aaron’s eyes search yours, a mix of emotions swirling within their depths. “What are you saying?” he asks softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation. 

“I’m saying that I need to let you go,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need to let go of this hope that maybe someday we could find a way to be together. I can’t keep holding on to something that’s only causing us both pain.” Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you speak, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. But despite the pain, you feel a sense of clarity wash over you, a sense of liberation in finally speaking the truth. 

Aaron’s eyes soften, his hand coming up to gently grasp yours that’s still cupping his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice filled with regret and sorrow. You offer him a sad smile, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away. 

“Me too, Aaron,” you say softly, your voice filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. As you stand up from the bench, you turn to walk away, the weight of your decision settling in your heart. But before you can take a step, you feel a hand grasp yours, stopping you in your tracks. You turn back to see Aaron standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and a hint of something you can’t quite place. 

“I...I can’t let you leave without saying this,” Aaron begins, his voice wavering slightly. “I’ve been a fool. I’ve let my own fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and in the process, I’ve hurt you. But I can’t let you go without telling you that I love you. ” 

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the depth of his confession washing over you like a wave. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope ignite within you, a spark of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for the two of you. “But what does that mean, Aaron?” you ask softly, your voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation. “What are you saying?” 

Aaron takes a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he speaks. “I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to live with the regret of letting you slip away. I want to fight for a future where you are a part of my life. I know it won’t be easy, I know there are risks and complications, but I can’t let you go without at least trying cause I love you.” 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you look into Aaron’s eyes, the sincerity and love shining within them filling your heart with warmth and longing. Taking a step closer to Aaron, you reach out to cup his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with determination. 

“I love you, too. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” 

Aaron’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of emotions flickering across his features. Without another word, he closes the distance between the two of you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss filled with passion and longing. The world falls away as you melt into each other, lost in the moment of shared love and desire as the man you love kisses you under the moonlight.

The kiss deepens, becoming a promise of the future you both want to fight for, a pledge to overcome the obstacles that stand in your way, a balm for the weeks of heartbreak. And as you break apart, breathless and filled with emotion, you feel how your entire body shivers, already missing the feeling of Aaron’s warm lips against yours. 

“You’re freezing,” Aaron frowns, quickly shredding himself of his suit jacket and draping it around your shoulders before wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Let’s get you inside.”

You nod, your heart swelling with hope and love as he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the hotel. Hotel might be a little generous; it’s more of a bed and breakfast, with so few rooms that the team had to pair up and share, but it was the only accommodation in town and it is not like you and the team aren’t used to having to share rooms from time to time. 

It turns out the rest of the team has already paired up and hit the hay, leaving only one room since you’re the last two to arrive. “Looks like you and I’ll have to share a room,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips, an hour ago you would be horrified by it, but now you’re absolutely thrilled about it.  

“Yeah, looks like it,” he says with a soft smile on his face as you get your keys before taking your hand in his again and leading you to your shared room.  

As you step inside, the warmth of the room envelops you, melding with the warmth of Aaron’s touch as he pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours once more in a sweet, tender embrace. In the dim light of the hotel room, with the moon casting a soft glow through the curtains, the emotions swirling within you are no longer suffocating, but freeing, as you surrender to the love that has bound the two of you together.

As you finally break apart and look around it turns out that the room is a twin room, with two beds divided by a bedside table. It makes sense that your coworkers didn’t leave you to share a room with a shared bed. 

You share a knowing look with him before the both of you start to quickly get ready for bed, it’s late and you’re both exhausted and there is only a few hours till you’ll need to get up again. 

You share one last kiss before moving to your respective beds, but as you lay there, the distance between you feels unbearable. The man you have been pining over for three years has just a little while ago told you that he loves you after weeks of heartbreak and he lies so close yet you can’t even touch him? That’s ridiculous! 

“I can’t do this,” you whisper, your voice filled with longing as you look at Aaron.

“I know,” he replies, his voice just as filled with yearning as he pulls his covers to the side letting you slip into the bed with him. 

You settle into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, and you feel as if you’re finally coming home. The walls that had been built between you are crumbling down, allowing you to embrace the love that has always been between you.

As you snuggle closer to Aaron, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. The turmoil of the past weeks fades away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and love.

“I’m never letting you go again,” Aaron whispers, his breath warm against your ear, and you know that he means it. And you know that you never want to let him go either. 

With a smile on your face, and your heart full of love and hope, you drift off to sleep in the arms of the man you love, knowing that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will face them together.

[heartmix]

Post Break Up Hair - Joe Burrow

Pairing: Joe Burrow x ex!reader

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warning: ex's, stupid reason for breaking up, a bit of angst with happy ending, making fun of joe's blonde buzzcut

A/N: wrote this after last nights game against the giants. I saw that his hair was getting back to normal. I could not take him seriously when he debuted his new look, i think i got the ick when i first saw it.

Masterlist / NFL Masterlist

"Slim Shady Burrow!"

"Joe Burrow rocking a new look ahead of the next season."

"Blonde and a Buzzcut for the Bengals QB."

You were not expecting Joe to go into full breakdown mode once you broke up during training camp. The break up was mutual enough for harsh things not to be said, but it was nonetheless heartbreaking. The break up was brought up by you, after the last two seasons and losing in the super bowl, Joe's mental hasn't been the best so the most logical thing to do was take a break. Of course Joe was against it, but you somehow convinced him to try it. After hours of arguing he gave in with tears streaming down his face. Years of trying to be there for him, it didn't seem like it was working so what else were you supposed to do. When he first joined the NFL you promised to help him make his career better and this was your final effort. 

Seeing the headlines of your ex's new hair cut, you couldn't help but let out a chuckle. He was definitely a girl in his past life. No other man you know would go to that extreme after a break up. Although part of you couldn't help but feel bad. It was evident he was taking the break up hard. Sure he might've looked good for training camp and got more attention because of the hair cut, but once season started it was like nothing improve, it looked like it go worst. 

By week six, their record was 1-4. One of the worst starts to the season they had in awhile. Their only win came from the panthers, a team that was worst than them so it only made sense that they would win against the team. By that point you couldn't help but be hit with regret and sorrow. You couldn't help but think that you breaking up with Joe was making his season worst. I mean how could you not think that especially seeing them losing the first game of the season to the patriots, a team who was still trying to function without Belichick.

At this point, you could not take it. Seeing them in that state was depressing. You knew that reaching out to Joe would life his spirits. You were determined to change his mood before their game against the giants. With that being said you felt like calling or texting him out of the blue asking to get back together would be weird. If the roles were revered, no way would you take him back. 

The next idea was to surprise him at the game and hope he sees you during warm ups. You still had season passes in the family section thanks to joe putting your name down. Every week for a home game you got the email about the unused tickets. This week you would take advantage of it. 

Making your way into the stadium, you planned it early enough so there wouldn't be an abundant amount of people, so Joe can spot you more easily. As you made your way to the family section you recognized a few of the wags who looked at you with shock written all over their faces. It's made its way around the locker room that you and Joe broke up so their expression wasn't out of the blue. 

After greeting them and answering questions it was time for the team to start making their way out. Immediately you locked onto Joe. His buzzcut was growing out and his blonde was turning more platinum. He looked good, better than he did during training. For awhile he was locked in doing a couple of stretches and a few passing routes. After awhile his eyes scanned the bleachers, appreciating all the fans that would be there to see them. Suddenly his eyes passed onto your section and you were the first person he laid his eyes on. He couldn't believe it was you. His eyes held shock with his mouth agape. Ja'marr came up to his friend to see what made him look like he saw a ghost, suddenly his eyes landed on you and a smirk appeared on his face. As if Joe was in a trace Ja'marr broke him out of it by nudging him in your section. 

Seeing him run up to your section you made your way down to the railing to get as close as you can. For a second both of you just stared at each other being to nervous to say anything. It was Joe who broke the silence first.

"You're here."

"I'm sorry. I've been thinking about what to say for weeks but now i don't have words." You got out, your nerves taking over the whole speech you had in your head. 

"Weeks?"

"I realized I made a mistake to break things up. I thought it would be better for you, but it was worst, i'm sorry."

"I missed you." He said caving in right away. Any normal person would make you work for it, but Joe just missed you. He knew deep down that you didn't really want to break up, you were just thinking about his career. He shouldn't have let you go so easily, it was him who hasn't been performing well not you.

"I missed you since the day I walked out that door."

"Is the 'taking a break' part of our life over?" He asked with hope in his eyes. He was begging at this point. He didn't care who was around or what cameras were on him, he wanted you back.

"If you're willing to take me back." You smiled making one grow on his face. Suddenly he jumped on on the railing coming face to face with you. He wasted no time grabbing the back of your head and pulling you into a kiss. Both of you melted into the kiss and neither one of you wanted to pull back, but the need for air forced you both to. 

"You're telling me i could've had that weeks ago?" His infamous smirk returned to his face. There was the Joe you knew.

"Yeah, but I didn't want to be photographed with your post break up hair, I was waiting till you grew it a bit." You teased running a hand through his growing hair making him melt into your touch. 

"Are you serious." his smirk dropped making you let out a hearty laugh.

"I'm dead serious. You look like Cody Rhodes and I couldn't get the image out of my head."

"That teaches you a lesson. Never break up with me again."

"I wouldn't dream of it. Now go win this game so we can go home and I can dye your hair back to brown." You lightly shoved him seeing as he was losing grip on the railing.  

"One last kiss for good luck." He pleaded making you smile and give in. 

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 6

content warning: fluff!, mentions of alcohol, uses of Spanish (if wrong, PLEASE correct me), boy-mom tendencies coming from Conchata, judging coming once again from Conchata (she means well, I promise. it just takes her a while to get there), mentions/pics of food, some PDA, it gets a little suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, Tyler + Nancy + Kron are all white for those who don’t know, Miggy still looks like ATSV Mig though, this is probably the LAST time that sorority party is mentioned, some body insecurity, Kron is a moron + freak, some violence at the end

word count: 8.5k, kinda proofread (no comment 😒 just buckle up)

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GymRat!Miguel who hopes his package makes it to you in time for New Year's. He hates that he can't just come and see you. He wanted to be with you as the clock struck 12, he always wanted to have a New Year's kiss with someone, but it felt a little silly to drop everything a drive to you. January was soon, which meant that the new semester started soon. He wasn't one to count down the days until school started, but if it meant he could be physically near you again, he would mark off the days in bright red on every calendar in the house.

GymRat!Miguel who records himself counting down with his rambunctious family in his grandma's backyard. His baby cousins are jumping up and down, throwing Pop-Its on the ground just giggling away. His aunts and uncles are yelling loudly. His mom and dad are huddled up together, his dad kissing his mom's cheeks as she laughs. George is a little drunk so he's feeling a bit more brave than usual. Gabriel and Dana are sitting in a corner, lighting sparklers to pass out to his relatives.

GymRat!Miguel who sends the video to you as soon as he can. You were probably busy with your own family so he didn't expect you to reply right away. He watched the fireworks that his uncle set off. A little dangerous with the trees being so close, but amazing nonetheless. His mom and dad gave him a group hug, then started dancing and singing loudly to Selena. He didn't even look to his Gabriel who he knew was kissing Dana's face off. He really missed you.

GymRat!Miguel who confessed everything to his Abuela as soon as she opened her mouth to say "¿Qué pasa, mi nietecito?"

He sat at the end of the table next to her, sniffling away as he rambled about everything that had happened the past semester. The late nights, the early mornings, his roommate that didn't dry off in the shower sometimes, his failed party, his missed alarms, group projects, and most importantly you.

He told her how much he missed you and how silly he felt. She rubbed his hands and reminded him that love has no bounds. She jokes about all the times she stayed with his abuelo after the stupid things he's done.

Who proposes without a ring?

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at his Abuela's stories of her younger love life. They trade stories back and forth, his stories mostly of you because you're his first true girlfriend. His Abuela listens with glee, happy to see her Miguelito so joyful. She warns him not to be like his abuelo in terms of common sense, but to be like him when it comes to how much love he has to give.

GymRat!Miguel who is eager to show her a picture of you. She is the second family member to see you outside of Gabriel, as she is one of the family members that he is closest to.

She was the one he cried to when the truth of his parent's past life unfolded. She was the one he went to when his mom berated him for the smallest things. She was the one he went to when he felt that he was competing to be seen, but he didn't want Gabriel to notice his pain. She was his everything.

He opens his growing folder full of pictures of you and scrolls to one of you during one of your library dates. You're looking up at him with the cutest smile on your face. Your glasses are falling a little bit and there's a half eaten granola bar in your hand. You were studying for an art history exam and complaining about the influx of European artists over every other continent. He had told an art joke he found on the back of a laffy taffy.

"What did the art thief say to the museum curator?" he said, getting his camera ready.

"What?" you ask, highlighting a passage.

"Give me all your Monet," he said, a snicker following.

You turn to him quickly with a giggle, "That's so silly."

"It made you laugh, though," he said, snapping a picture.

You were really sweet that day. Looked sweet, smelled sweet, and even your kisses tasted like strawberries.

His Abuela took the phone in her hands, pulling her glasses down to look at you.

A smile grows on her face as she sighs, "¡Muy hermosa!"

Miguel's heart soars. He is glad that she sees what he sees.

Of course, she wants to see you. She compliments you profusely, praising Miguel for finding such a beautiful girl. Miguel promises to bring you by one day, happy to be the bridge that connects to women who bring him such joy.

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble bursts when his mom comes up from behind, asking what he and his Abuela are talking about. He quickly brings his phone back to his chest and looks up at his mom.

“Uh, we were just talking about school,” Miguel answers.

“What are you hiding, mijo?” Conchata asks, raising her eyebrows as she tilts her head. There was a warning tone in her voice, daring him to lie.

“You’re always fussing at him! It’s New Year's, Conchata, let him relax,” his Abuela sighed.

“Ma! He is hiding something,” she says, voice getting sharper. “He’s been strange ever since he got home. What is it? Háblame.”

Miguel just let the air go from his lungs.

“We were talking about my girlfriend. I was just showing Abuela some pictures,” Miguel said, tone quiet as ever.

“That’s it? Well, can I see them?”

Miguel hesitated, not knowing how his mom would react. She could be a bit of what people described as a “boy-mom.” Despite all of the years of her nitpicking and nagging him, she still had her moments where she thought others were too good for him.

Miguel hesitantly showed her the same picture. She quickly yanked the phone and looked intensely, pinching the screen in and out.

Then she started scrolling. It would have been fine, but there were still some of the scanned Christmas photos of you that he didn’t move to his locked folder yet.

“Hey!” he said, jumping up to grab his phone. He quickly uses his height to his advantage and gets it back in his hands while his mom tried her best to keep scrolling. He looks at the photo she stopped on, one more swipe and she would see what was only meant for him. “Seriously, Ma?”

“I just wanted to see,” she said, straightening her blouse. “She’s- nice.”

Her tone was nonchalant, sarcastic.

“Nice? That’s it?” Miguel ask with his mouth turned up.

“Sí. What does she study?”

“Art.”

“Hm,” she says. “I guess you’ll be the breadwinner. If it goes that far.”

“Ma, please don’t start this,” Miguel says, feeling a headache coming on. “I already told you that this was a new relationship. One that has lasted this long for me. And there are plenty of jobs you can get with an art major!”

Conchata made a face as to say ‘really?’ with her arms folded.

Miguel looked to his Abuela with an exasperated look in his eyes.

“They are hard to get, but the world cannot move without art or love,” his Abuela says, taking Miguel’s hand in both of hers.

“Love?!” Conchata just about shouts.

Miguel just groans.

GymRat!Miguel who stomps over and yanks up Gabriel by his shirt, disconnecting him from Dana, and dragging him inside.

“Gabri. A dinner party? Really?!” Miguel huffs out, irritation high in his voice.

“Where’s ‘Hi. Hello! How are you?’ No ‘Happy New Year’s Eve, Gabriel. My darling baby brother who I love!’ Just using your sheer strength against me. Removing me from the safe arms of my girlfriend. Just rude,” Gabriel turns his nose up and folds his arms.

“You running your mouth is all the answer I need,” Miguel says as he flicks Gabriel on the head. He yelps out a cartoonish ‘yeowch!’ “Why did mom just tell me about a dinner set up to meet my girlfriend?”

“Um! Well, you see, things happen when you’re enjoying a lovely ski resort!”

Miguel just geared his hand up for another flick.

“And!” Gabriel says, leaning back with his hands up. “Sometimes little brothers have to cover up for their big brothers when they almost punch the shit out of their half brothers!”

“So you tell them to throw a dinner?”

“No! That’s not even how I roll. All I said was that you were probably talking to her. Blame Nancy. And Tyler. And ma! Once Nancy suggested it, ma was ready to tag along. She’s been trying to stick her nose into your life for years.”

Miguel’s shoulders just slumped.

He pulled Gabriel in for a hug, “Sorry Gabri. I should have just asked you. She was just being really weird about the whole thing.”

“It’s ok, nobody knows your heart like me. But, do you really think it’ll be that bad?”

Miguel pondered that question.

“Hopefully not. I won’t let it get awful. She doesn’t deserve that,” Miguel says.

“Let’s look at the bright side. Tyler likes her. Dad likes her. Nancy’s opinion doesn’t really matter, but she likes anything Tyler likes. Kron is an idiot. And I definitely like her.”

Miguel clicks his teeth.

“Oh don’t make that face, Miguel. You know you love me!” he says and puckers at Miguel’s face.

“Ew, get away from me. You were just slobbering all over Dana,” Miguel says as he pushes Gabriel away and turns to go to his designated room.

“You’re so mean!”

GymRat!Miguel who answers within seconds when you call as he sits on the bed.

“Happy New Year!” you sing out, dragging the ‘year’ in a cute melody.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he says, smiling at your cuteness.

“I got your package!” you say, fighting with the phone to stay straight. You finally get it steady and start backing up. “It’s so comfy! The chest part is a little snug, though. Nothing too crazy.”

You stand in the middle of the camera. Miguel had delivered a bunch of his old sweaters to you after you mentioned wanting to snuggle during one of your FaceTimes.

He did everything to make sure they smelled like him. He used a specific detergent. He sprayed them in his cologne. He even wore them each for a set amount of time.

The one you were wearing was merchandise from when Gabriel decided he wanted to play basketball. You turned around and Miguel was met with ‘O’Hara’ printed across the back and your cute little shorts.

“Do you like it?” Miguel asked, internally freaking out. You’re wearing his clothes and his name.

“I love it!” you say, grabbing the phone and climbing onto your bed. “They smell like you too. I feel nice and warm.”

You brought the neck of the shirt up over your nose, eyes smiling at the screen. You were going to be the death of him. He’s become jealous over cotton and wool.

“Can I see it one more time?” Miguel asked, eyes heavy as he sat back against the headboard.

You popped up from your cocoon of his sweater and bit your lip, “Is this riling you up, Miguel?”

“More than you know. How could it not? My girl is wearing my clothes,” Miguel replied earnestly.

He heard you let out a soft noise, embarrassed as you stretched the phone out.

“Yeah, I’m really loving this,” Miguel said, voice lower.

You brought the phone back to your heated face, still not used to that type of response from Miguel.

“Don’t hide from me, cariño,” Miguel said, watching as you fanned your face. “Let me see you.”

“Cariño?!” you say, heart beating even more.

“Are you not my sweetie? My baby? My girl?” he asked, looking at you playfully.

You just rolled to the side and let out a huff.

“You’re teasing me,” you say, voice just above a whisper.

“Not teasing. Just admiring,” he says, eyes twinkling.

You bite the nail of your thumb, “I have an old selfie stick. I can go get that if you want to see more.”

“Please!” Miguel all but shouts.

You giggle as you run to get it out the of box. Miguel’s anticipating the show as he listens to you throwing things across the room.

When you get your phone high in the sky to pan over your body, it takes everything within Miguel to not start howling. Your legs were glowing, thighs full and ready for him to grip and bite. Your shorts were squeezing your hips. Most importantly, his sweater was stretching across your chest.

“God, I wish I was there,” Miguel groaned, rearranging his pants. His excitement was making his clothes feel uncomfortable.

“Me too,” you say, panning the camera back to your face. “I want my muscle bear.”

“Yeah?” Miguel asked, smiling at the screen. He loved it when you called him that.

“Mm hm,” you reply, picking at a loose thread. “I told my mom about us. She was getting worried and said I was walking around the house like a ghost. She’s excited to meet you.”

Miguel sat up straight, heart dropping. That was a stark difference from his mom.

“That’s great! When does she want to meet? I need to get her a gift. Is she still looking for that travel bag set? Or do you think she would prefer a meal?”

“Miguel-”

“I can ask my Abuela to help me make something. Does she have a favorite restaurant? Should I wear a suit? Business casual, maybe.”

“Mig-”

“I need to get her some flowers too. Does she have a favorite flower? Oh my gosh. Is she allergic?”

“Miguel!” you speak up, laughing at his state. “Calm down. It won’t happen until like, next month. You have enough time to prepare.”

“Baby, don’t laugh! This is important. I have to make a good impression,” Miguel pouts.

“And you will! I’ve already told her so much about you.”

He actively gulps, “Even the party?”

“Ok, that didn’t go over too well. She ran her mouth to my dad about that. But! She doesn’t blame you,” you say, calming tone.

“She hates me. Your dad hates me. How am I going to win them over?” he says, dramatically bopping his head against the wall.

“Miguel,” you sigh. He just groans out shaking his head from side to side. “Baby, look at me.”

The cursed baby card had Miguel at attention.

“You’re sweet. You’re handsome. You’re intelligent. And you’re charming. I promise you, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” you say, reassuring him.

Miguel nods slowly.

“You think I’m handsome?” smile creeping back.

“Oh my god. Is that all you got from that?”

“No! But you called me handsome, so I have to lock that away.”

“You also have himbo tendencies,” you respond.

“All the better to fawn over you with, cariño.”

GymRat!Miguel who curses when the pictures of you in his sweater come in shortly after you in the call. One of them is you on your stomach with the ‘O’Hara’ on full display with your underwear and ass peaking out.

He sets it as one of his wallpapers in record speed.

“How do you expect me to NOT be a himbo?”

“Feral”

“Oh my god. 😭”

GymRat!Miguel who does his same pick up and spin you around number when he sees you a couple of weeks later. You were glowing and giggly.

GymRat!Miguel who casually greets the people in the dorm lobby as he carries you to your dorm room. You didn’t even fight him, as he was always adamant with PDA. You just put your head in his neck and didn’t look up until you were at your door.

You saw the red face of one of the girls living on your hall as Miguel kissed your neck. You quickly averted your gaze, squirming so he could hurry up and open the door. Miguel just assumed you were hungry for more and took even longer to open the door.

“Mig-” you say, cut off as he groans into your skin. “The door, please.”

Your legs wrap around him tighter as he turns to where you were just looking.

“Sorry about that! Got a little excited,” he says to the girl with a wink. She turns even darker and it looks as if steam is about to escape her head as she scurries down the hallway.

“Rude.”

“Miguel!”

“What? She could have said something instead of just watching us.”

“Just please. Open the door, you goof.”

“Yes ma’am!”

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that Jess won’t be there until tomorrow afternoon. He lays you out on your bed and hovers over you.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he says and drops his body on yours. You let out an ‘oof’ relishing in his dead weight.

“I missed you too, Miggy,” you say, patting his head. “Enough to be on my bed with outside clothes on.”

Miguel looks at you, sheepish. “I’ll help you wash them. And pay for it.”

“Yeah you will. But for now,” you pull him close and bring his lips to yours. “Let’s enjoy this.”

He loses track of time and kisses you until your stomach growls for dinner.

GymRat!Miguel who goes all out for Valentine’s Day. He opted to buy you one of the Valentine’s Day packages that the school offers, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt.

He sets up a small breakfast for you and Jess for Galentine’s as a gift for having his back. He had MJ deliver it to you, as he still had class that morning.

He sent you a photo later after his workout, one of your paper kisses on his cheek as he stood in the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist.

You almost screamed in the middle of your studio class.

To end the day, the two of you did a couple challenge in Target. Once back in his car, you both gave each other gifts.

You almost cry when his “something that reminds me of you” gift is in fact not something from Target. It’s a cute bunny necklace inside of a handmade box.

“Miguel! This is so beautiful,” you say, in awe at everything.

He puts the necklace on for you, “A bunny for my baby.”

You devour him with kisses in the Target parking lot.

GymRat!Miguel who’s sweating bullets when your mom comes to visit later that month. He woke up with his stomach rocking. He couldn’t even look Peter in the eye as he stepped out of the bathroom, apologizing profusely.

“Dude, you might not make it out of here if you don’t calm down,” Peter says while lighting a candle he definitely wasn’t supposed to have in the dorms.

“I know, I know. It’s like my body can sense the bad vibes from my brain,” Miguel says, gathering everything for today’s lunch. “I haven’t even eaten anything today.”

“Cheer up, O’Hara,” Peter says as he pats his back. “At least you’re not meeting her parents’ eyes while you’re humping their daughter in their guest bathroom!”

“Jesus, Parker.”

GymRat!Miguel who laughs when he sees Gabriel’s texts. He’s sitting in the parking lot of the meeting location an hour and a half early.

“Ik your ass has the bubble guts”

“Remember to breathe”

“And that the dinner with our mom might be waaaay worse”

“Like”

“Miles worse”

“Thanks for the words Gabri”

“Real touching”

“So you’re saying I should become a motivational speaker?”

“Got it”

“Not quite!”

GymRat!Miguel who runs open the restaurant door when sees you from the waiting area. He’s so freaking nervous.

“Hello!” he says, holding the door for you both. Your mom gives him a quick thank you as you all step inside.

“I remember you saying he was tall, but I didn’t know he was this tall!” your mom says to you as she holds Miguel’s arms.

You introduce them, “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara. Miguel, this is my mom.”

Miguel almost sputters as you casually call him your boyfriend.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Miguel says, handing her a gift bag and you both a bouquet of flowers. “I have heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” your mother says, shocked at the gifts. “And what a gentleman. You didn’t have to get me these!”

“Please,” Miguel says. “I needed to get something for the woman who brought such a gift to this world for me.”

If Miguel still wasn’t so nervous, he’d chuckle at the twin surprised looks you and your mom were sporting.

GymRat!Miguel who hits it off with your mom quite well. He’s a bit shaky at first, stuttering over simple phrases when the conversations were first starting. You put a hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb to bring him reassurance. From then on, he just let go.

He’s able to chat about everything she brings up. Even the obscure TV show that she loves to watch. You’re highly impressed with how good he’s doing.

He even apologizes smoothly when the sorority party is brought up. Your mom reaches across the table to hold his hand and tells him that she is proud of him for owning up to his mistakes and taking a stand.

She heads to your car first, giving you two some private time.

“You think that went ok?” Miguel asked, finally relaxing his shoulders.

“I think that it went swimmingly. I also think that I want to kiss you.���

Miguel turns to you, blush high on his cheeks and neck as you walk your fingers up his thigh. You give him a peck on the cheek and say you have to drive your mom back to her car.

Miguel walks you out and waves you all goodbye as you leave the parking lot.

“He is such a handsome young man! Charming, too,” your mom finally says.

“I know!” he was never going to shut up about that once you told him. “What else do you think about him?”

“I think he’s great for you. He’s very smart. Respectful. He’s clearly infatuated with you. He couldn’t stop looking at you.”

You avoid your mom’s gaze as she teases you.

“He was lovely, truly. He has my approval. Now, it’s your father he has to really impress,” she says with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, not even ready for that storm.

“As long as he doesn’t break your heart, he has nothing to worry about from me. Your father? One bad day and you might not see Miguel ever again.”

You just tapped your finger on the wheel and pursed your lips, mind lingering near the future.

GymRat!Miguel who talks to you about coming to his house after the semester is over. The midterms were soon but so was spring break. He had to let you know sooner rather than later that his family was going all out with trying to meet you.

“A dinner?” you say incredulously as you look up from your sandwich. “Like at a restaurant or at home?”

“Like a full blown dinner party at my bio dad’s house.”

“That’s,” you say taking a pause as the words settle. “A lot.”

Miguel felt like shit.

“I know. Look, I can tell them to cancel the whole thing. They can see you whenever,” Miguel says, sliding his foot next to yours under the table.

“No. If attending this is how I can make a good impression, then I’m more than willing to attend. I just need to prepare. Starting right now.”

Miguel smiled, “And I’ll be there with you for every step of the way.”

Miguel sat with you and helped you break down every relative that he knew was coming.

Gabriel

You knew him already

Easy to please

Annoying (according to Miguel)

Likes you a little too much (also according to Miguel)

Wants to steal you from him

“Miguel, I don’t think he’d do that. He has a girlfriend,” you say, still writing down notes.

“Baby, I know my brother. He might have a girlfriend but that doesn’t stop him from being Denis the Menace,” Miguel huffs out.

Tyler

His biological dad

A little aloof, but means well

Gifts money like it’s nothing

Might still be a little in love his mom

Will give you a bear hug, unaware of how large he is

“Kind of like you, babe,” you comment.

“But I’m doing way more than hugging you, babe.”

“And he’s in love with your mom?”

“It’s a long story.”

Nancy

Tyler’s wife

Definitely married Tyler for the money but eventually found love with him

Owns a Pomeranian named Lala

A bottle blonde turned housewife

Wanted to actually be on a housewife show until she secretly went to Bravo-con and saw how stuck up all of the housewives were

“I feel like that was pretty obvious, but alright.”

“She’s still not the brightest, but she’s nice.”

Kron

A dickhead

Miguel’s half brother

Tyler and Nancy’s only child after Nancy never wanted to go through the pain of childbirth again. And she didn’t want anymore changes to her body.

A year older than Miguel

A dickhead

“Should I have to stay clear of him?”

“No because if he tries something with you, I will handle him myself.”

George

The dad Miguel grew up with his entire life

Where Miguel gets his hopeless romantic tendencies from

Really likes soccer, wanted one of his sons to be a soccer player but got two nerds instead

Met his mom before she knew she was pregnant with him and charmed his way into her life. He didn’t know that Miguel wasn’t his until he was born and Tyler barged his way into the room when he was originally visiting someone else. He saw Conchata’s name on a baby sign and came in crying.

He still stayed with his mom because he loved her but he made Tyler sweat for ever leaving his mom like he once did: lost

“Your dad punched him?” you ask, stopping your writing.

“Yeah. My mom says it wasn’t pretty. Tyler learned a valuable lesson that day because Nancy came in and slapped him once she figured out what went down. He’s never denied Nancy or my mom a material thing since.”

Conchata

Hard on Miguel but dotes on him a lot now

The reason for a lot of Miguel’s self doubt

Wanted Miguel to be a doctor but has settled with science

Blasts music on Sunday mornings while she cleans, therefore waking the entire house

Will actually give you trouble (hence the conversation from two months ago)

“Did she give Dana any trouble?” you recall Gabriel’s girlfriend. “Is there anything that I need to not do specifically?”

Miguel tilts his eyes up, “Now that you mention it, I feel like she welcomed Dana with open arms. That might be more of a little brother privilege than anything else, though.”

You bit your lip, “That’s not good then. I don’t want her to think awful of me or our relationship.”

“She won’t. She just needs time to process.”

“That makes it sound like I’m stealing you from her.”

Oof.

Abuela

Already eager to meet you

Miguel’s world

Taught Miguel how to do certain meals and crafts as he was almost always at her house

Thinks you’re gorgeous

“She said that I’m gorgeous?” you ask, shocked.

“And talented,” Miguel hums. “And brave. Lots of compliments.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who stays pent up all of spring break. He was supposed to be enjoying his days off but instead he’s replaying your whiny voice messages and watching videos of you in his clothes. He doesn’t know how much more he could take.

He looked down at his state. Tissues, lube, ragged sheets, your polaroids, his phone. You were driving him crazy.

GymRat!Miguel who almost sprints around campus when his last final is finished. He’s free! For a couple of months at least. To celebrate, he and Peter are having a small get-together in their dorm room with lots of pizza, wings, jello shots, cake, and games.

GymRat!Miguel who cries like a baby at Gabriel’s high school graduation. His baby, who he raised and cared for, practically birthed, is growing up!

George makes sure to get a wobbly video of Gabriel dancing across the stage and Miguel with snot dripping down his face as he hollers.

“What to do with these two?” George sighed as he wrapped his arm around Conchata.

GymRat!Miguel who tussles with Gabriel later that week after he finds out that he sent that video to you. Their dad has to come break up their play fight.

GymRat!Miguel who isn’t surprised that Tyler managed to pay for all of your transportation and stay ahead of the dreaded Stone-O’Hara dinner.

Miguel picks you up from the fancy hotel and thinks that his dad went overboard.

You're waiting in the lobby when he sees you, stunning as ever.

“Wow,” Miguel says, stunned to stillness as he takes you in, unbeknown of his presence. Your dress is flattering you in every way. His goes from your legs, to your heels, to the necklace he got you for Valentine’s Day adorning your chest.

“Baby, you look amazing,” he says, finally coming up to you.

You look up at him with those deer eyes again.

“You think so? It’s not too much, is it?”

“Not at all,” he says grabbing your purse and helping you to your feet. “So beautiful, cariño.”

You duck a bit, bashful from his gaze. Miguel leans your head back up, stealing a kiss from your lips.

“If we weren’t expected, I’d take you back up to the room,” Miguel whispers.

You ball your hands on his chest and look around nervously.

“I might have to take you up on that offer tonight,” you whisper back, heart rattling.

It was Miguel’s turn to feel shy. He walked close behind you as you both made your way to his car, mind racing of the things you both could get up to.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks your reaction is adorable when you see just how huge the Stone property is. You can’t believe that one man owns all of this land. Miguel tells you that this is, unfortunately, just the beginning.

GymRat!Miguel who almost knocks Gabriel down. He’s gawking at you like an idiot when he opens the door to Stone Manor.

“Woah,” Gabriel says, mouth gaping like a fish.

“Hello to you too, Gabriel. It’s nice to meet you in person,” you say with a cute curtsy.

Gabriel continues to flounder, mouth opening and closing like that cat meme.

“Will you at least let her in, you idiot?” Miguel barks.

“Sorry! So sorry,” Gabriel says and opens the door further. “That’s really embarrassing. You’re supposed to see my charm and fall madly in love with me.”

Miguel is about to seriously hurt him when Dana comes around the corner and does the job for him.

“Who’s falling in love with who?” she says, elbowing Gabriel in the stomach.

“Nobody and no one!” Gabriel keels over in pain.

“Thank you, Dana. You could probably hit him again for me,” Miguel says. “I want you to meet my girlfriend.”

“It’s a pleasure! The boys have told me a lot about you. I hope that you enjoy tonight’s dinner,” Dana says, reaching her hand out to you.

“Gabriel has said a lot about you as well. He didn’t say how cute you are though!”

Dana blushes instantly and holds her hand over her mouth as she giggles.

“Of course he couldn’t. He was too busy trying to win you over. I might have to beat them both to the punch though,” Dana replies.

Miguel and Gabriel just make the same irritated noise.

GymRat!Miguel who hold your hand as the four of you walk into the dining room. You’re gripping his hand tight as you take everything in.

It was so grand. Like a hotel. The ceiling fixture was huge and intricate. The color scheme was muted with pops of bright white.

It was…a lot.

“There she is! The lady of the hour,” you see a man even taller than Miguel say. He has brightly gray hair that’s styled intricately so. He’s grinning bright as he comes towards you with his arms wide.

He indeed goes for something like a bear hug, just like Miguel said. Except, Miguel is there to steady you when Tyler collides with you a bit too hard.

“I’m so sorry, I’m just so excited to meet you! I’ve heard so much through the grapevine and I remember your emails like they were yesterday! Please, Please! Have a seat.”

“Not before she greets everyone, Ty-Ty!” you hear a shrill voice from behind him. “Sorry about him. He’s like a golden retriever. My name is Mrs. Stone but you can call me Nancy!”

You shake her hand and exchange pleasantries. She snaps her hand behind her with a beckoning motion.

“This is our son, Kron!”

You look up to see a man with platinum blonde hair and a scowl aimed towards his mom that could rival Miguel’s.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out.

Kron eyes your body in a way that makes a horrible feeling go down your spine. His eyes plant themselves a bit too long on your chest before he decides to return the greeting.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, with a voice that assume was supposed to be smooth. Yuck.

Miguel quickly wraps his hands around your shoulders, “Let’s go meet my other parents.” He turns his mouth up at Kron as he moves you past him. If Tyler or Nancy weren’t there he’d buck at him.

“Mom, Dad, Abuela, this is my girlfriend,” Miguel says with a hand on the small of your back.

“Tan bonitia!” his Abuela cries and walks fast to take your hand into hers. “Eres tan bonita! Miguel! Where did you find such a doll?”

You giggle at her words, bashful at the attention.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. You are extremely beautiful yourself.”

“Oh, a sweet one too! Call me Abuela, yes? ¡Eres un ángel!” she says cradling your face to get a good look at you.

“Gracias, Abuela,” you say, a little softer. Miguel thinks he’s falling in love if he hasn’t already admitted it.

“Come, come! Meet my daughter and son-in-law!”

“This is George!”

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, looking into his eyes with a smile.

“A pleasure to meet you! My son has been in high spirits these past couple of months. And truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for what you did for him. He’s so stubborn, like his pa. He wouldn’t have budged!”

You chuckle at his comments about that O’Hara stubbornness, “It was no effort on my part, Mr. O’Hara. I wasn’t going to let something like that slide.”

You briefly turn to Miguel, trying to find a safety net under all this attention. You were happy to see that he was staring right back at you.

George then stepped to the side and brought Conchata forward, “Speaking of effort, I’d love for you to meet my wife.”

Here was the big one. The one you felt in your heart and soul was the woman of the night to please, the final boss.

“Mrs. O’Hara, what an honor it is to meet you. Miguel has told me countless stories about you. I’m happy to finally meet you face to face, and not just through words,” you say, holding your hand the highest it has been all night.

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it was.

You panicked, thinking maybe you said something wrong. You’re about to pull your hand back until she finally reaches out and shakes your hand.

“Yes. You are the one that my son took forever to introduce me to. I’m happy that you made it here tonight. I do hope that you enjoy it,” she says. Her voice was calculating and a little cold.

You didn’t know how to take that so you just smiled and hoped that this was how she acted when she first met new people.

You heard the clinking of a fork against a glass.

“Gather around everyone,” Nancy said. “Dinner is about to be served!”

You all go to your seats. You smile at Miguel as he pulls your seat out and helps you sit at the table. He sits next to you and rubs your thigh, just as you did to him months ago.

Gabriel and Dana are sitting in front of you and Miguel. George and Conchata are to Dana's left as Tyler and Nancy are to your left. Kron has somehow placed himself near the head of the table near the parents, while Abuela is seated at the opposite end near the O'Hara brothers.

Nancy calls your name with glee, "I hope you came hungry because tonight we're doing a six-course meal."

You raise your eyebrows. You didn't know that this was the route they were going to take and from Miguel's face, he didn't know either.

There is an array of what you assume to be butlers and servers to come out, each holding a dish. There's even a chef who comes out with a smug look on his face.

"The theme for tonight is 'Everlasting Love.'"

You watch as Gabriel gives Dana a quick side eye and they communicate a silent conversation within just a few seconds. If you were to guess, it would be something along the lines of "is this serious?" and "as a heart attack."

"The first course is roasted artichoke hearts with a feta dressing drizzle. It represents the budding of a fresh relationship. I do hope you enjoy," he says walking away as the waiters lifted the cloches from the plates.

Below were the tiniest little artichoke hearts you've seen in your life.

As you were grabbing your utensils to begin eating, you could see Gabriel fighting for his life not to let out a laugh, shoulders twitching. Miguel just sighed as he put an entire heart in his mouth.

"So," you hear Tyler start up a conversation. "I hear that you are an art major. I would love to see some of your work. We do need a new painting for the entrance hall."

You wait until you swallow before you answer back, "I would love to create a piece for you! I'm sure you would want to see my work first, but whatever you want, I'm sure I can provide it."

"That's exciting! I'm so tired of seeing that boring white horse everyday. Right, Ty-Ty?" Nancy whines a bit as she leans close to Tyler.

"My wife is right. I'm sure your work will liven up the place!"

"I took that picture of the horse," Kron looked at his parents with a frown on his face.

"Oh, I wouldn't want you all to take that down. I'm sure it's very valuable," you say, trying your best not to upset anyone.

"Nonsense! We can always put the horse somewhere else," Tyler says, patting his son on the shoulder. "There's no need to frown son."

"You don't even know what her art looks like. It could be awful for all we know," Kron mumbles.

Rude.

Miguel's about to open his mouth but you quickly respond, "I would be happy to show it to you. If you don't mind, I can pull up my website right now."

So, you did. There are gasps, oos, ahs, and oh mys as your phone makes its way around the table. Kron's face cracks especially when he sees your work. He gets a little red in the face as he squeezes a compliment out.

By the time the next two courses come out, (an oddly pink soup based on the pool of memories that we store in our hearts and a market salad with cranberries and almonds to represent the start of young love) you've managed to impress the Stones, George, and Abuela plenty more times, shut Kron up four more times, and get an eerie stare from Conchata several times.

She hadn't really said a word since you shook her hand.

You all were enjoying a small palate cleanser of sparkling grapefruit juice to represent the sparks of love at first sight when she finally decides to speak up.

"Where did you get that dress?"

She had your full attention, "Oh! My mom lent it to me. She said it would be perfect for a special occasion."

"Your mom?" Conchata looked concerned. "She didn't think it was a bit inappropriate for dinner?"

You look down at your dress. Your cleavage was on display. You knew it was too much.

"I-I guess it is a bit too exposing," you say, conscience over every rise and fall of your chest she could probably see from her side of the table. You didn't bring a shawl with you either. You couldn't hide it.

"I mean, look at Dana. A long, non-revealing gown," she pans to Dana with a warm smile.

You did look to Dana who looked up, bug-eyed and confused. She looked back and forth across the table, a little incredulous.

"Ma, Dana's entire back is exposed," Gabriel said matter-of-factly as Dana turned her body a bit to show the criss-cross detailing of the string pulling the dress together.

"Sure, but, we can't see it here at this table."

"Conchata, dear, what is this about?" Nancy reaches her hand across the table, concerned.

"This isn't about anything! I'm just making conversation like everyone else here," she responds.

She's about to open her mouth again when her mom bites out a sharp "Conchata!" from the end of the table.

Luckily, the tension is broken by the chef bringing out the fourth course: a rare filet mignon to represent how our hearts bleed as they yearn for love.

How fitting.

You chewed your food in silence, controlling every movement that you could because now you felt that the entire table was ogling your chest.

It wasn't until the second palate cleanser, a red sorbet, came out that you saw that Kron's eyes never left you or your body. You felt sick.

You excused yourself and briskly walked to the bathroom.

You closed the door and took a deep breath. You looked over your appearance again. Was it really too much?

You washed your hands and took a few deep breaths. You were here to meet Miguel's family and make a good impression. Even, if his mom seemed to hate you, you were still gaining the hearts of everyone else. You're doing this for Miguel. Keep it together.

After a short pep talk, you straighten out your dress and your back, wanting to walk back into the room with your head held high.

What you don't expect is to be met with Kron as soon as you open the door.

"I'm sorry, did you need to use the restroom?" you ask, thinking that you were in there too long.

"No, but I was hoping to speak with you," he says, staring you down. "I apologize for my reaction earlier. Your art really is nice."

"Thank you," you say, trying to discreetly step from the door. He really did give you the ick. "I'm sorry that your parents are trying to take your art down. That was never my intention."

"No harm, no foul," he said. "What is confusing is how a pretty little thing like you ended up in Miguel's bed and not mine?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, a dirty look planted on your face.

"I'm not speaking another language, baby. You should dump him and get with the winning team. You'd make a great trophy wife."

"Look, Kron. Chronic. Megatron. Whatever," you say, trying to get away from him as he leaned closer. "I'd really appreciate it if you left me alone. I'm just trying to get back to dinner."

"The one person who you want to notice you is not impressed," he says with a snicker on his lips. "My parents seem to already enjoy you. You could drop this whole gig and be with me. Seriously."

GymRat!Miguel who storms over to where you went with a quickness. You were gone way too long and Kron was nowhere to be found.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Miguel asked with a bass in his voice.

"Great. Now the bear has been poked," Kron says to you. "We're not doing anything, Miguel. Calm down."

"You are doing something because why are you that close to my girlfriend?"

"Is she your girlfriend? Because I'm real close to getting a taste of that-"

Miguel grabs Kron up by his collar so quickly, you almost miss his movement, "You wanna finish that sentence?"

"Hey. Hey!" you whisper-shout, trying not to get the attention of everyone else. "Can we please just make it through this dinner? You two can do whatever you want afterwards. Please."

Miguel lets Kron go who sports a smirk across his face as he heads back towards the dining room.

"Thanks, dollface," he says, shooting you a wink.

Miguel only tightens his fist as he watches him walk away, "I should have hit him."

"Later, baby, please."

GymRat!Miguel who is significantly calmed down by the time you both make it back to the table. You let him breathe you in for a minute or two and it was like the bad energy was drained out of him.

The last two courses were a dessert and a specialty tea. The chef offered them both up at the same time, claiming that they complement each other like two parties in a couple.

You sipped your tea gingerly, happy to have made it to what you hope is the end of a long night.

The dessert in front of you looks delicious. It's in such a cute cherry shape, and it takes everything within you not to take your phone out to snap a picture.

You're about to dig in until you hear Conchata clear her throat.

"Are you sure you don't want to save that until tomorrow? I wouldn't want you to be bloated or anything," she asks hurriedly.

Oh.

So that's what this is about. All the remarks, the stares, the comments. They weren't about your character, your words, or even how you treat Miguel. It was all because of your appearance.

She thought you weren't good enough for her son because of your appearance.

You put the fork down, defeated. Conchata won the night.

Your throat burned as you bit back tears of shame and embarrassment.

"Mom, are you serious right now?" Miguel spoke up, voice cold as ever.

"Miguel don't talk to me like that! I'm your mother."

"A mom that's kinda being a bitch right now," Kron mutters under his breath.

You would agree, but it wasn't your place to make that comment.

Miguel lets that be known as he gets up and socks Kron right across the face.

The entire table is up in a flash, trying to get Miguel off of him.

Tyler is finally able to pull Miguel up after a few minutes. He's heaving, face the angriest you've ever seen it.

He yanks his body from Tyler's and opens his mouth, "This sorry excuse of a party to gang up on my girlfriend is over. I'm sick of it."

"Ma, you really said some horrible things tonight. I've tried for years to remain respectful towards you, but tonight you've really pushed it, and hurt someone that I love."

Love? Your eyes went wide and your heartbeat started to ring even louder in your ears.

"Kron, I've been sick of your bullshit for god know's how long. Biting off of me and my accomplishments is one thing, but cornering and harassing my girlfriend that I chose to bring around you is another. If you ever try that shit again, our poor dad isn't going to be able to get me off of you. You will never be me. Get over it."

"And finally, it seems that only a select few of you can stand up to the consuming fire that is Conchata O'Hara. I love my girlfriend for who she is first and foremost. She was the light that came into my life. You think I'm going to let something as minuscule as her body stop me from loving her? You should be ashamed, ma."

Miguel moves quickly as he shoves two plates in one of the butler's hands and tells him to pack it to go. He then turns to his grandma at the end of the table who didn’t even budge when Miguel snapped.

"Lo siento, Abuela," he whispers to her, truly upset that he let this get this far.

His grandma just gave him a long kiss on the cheek and whispered something in his ear.

"C'mon. We're leaving," Miguel holds your hand as he gets ready to guide you towards the entrance.

You bow to everyone, "I'm sorry about all of this." You're pulled by Miguel who wants to get out of the suffocating manor quick.

What a horrible first impression.

GymRat!Miguel who is silent on the car ride back to your hotel room. He's partially still calming down and partially listening for you to say anything. Your head hasn't turned from the window. He just places his hand in yours, hoping that he can get the message across that he was here for you.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn't see you crack until you're up in the hotel room, the lights are dimmed, and your heels are off. He's quick to wrap his arms around you as you sob. Your cries becoming louder and louder. His heart breaks at every shaky breath that you take.

"I know, I know. I got you, baby," he says, rocking with you, in hopes that you could just breathe.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you unzip your dress, offering to wash your body. You tell him no and that you need that little quiet time to yourself to think. He understands.

He still paces the room while you're in the shower, thinking about the things he should have done to prevent this.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the leftover dessert, still wanting you to enjoy something from tonight. You hum in between bites, sniffling a bit along the way. Even in this state, you were most precious to him.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses away your tears as you let out your insecurities. He reassures you that you're perfect. Body, mind, and soul.

"I love you," he says looking at you deeply. "Honestly, I feel like I've loved you since our group project. I loved you since our smoothie date. I've loved you since carrying your art supplies. I've loved you since listening to you rant about animatronic rats. Since you opened your dorm door pissed off at me. Since our coffee dates. Since our library dates. Since I first saw you with your matching outfits."

You still couldn't believe it.

"You love me?" you say, still trying to comprehend.

"Te amo, mi amor. Deeply and truly."

GymRat!Miguel who keeps you in his arms the entire night, kissing you to oblivion. You're both staring at each other. A faint moonlight peaking through the curtains.

"I love you too, Miguel," you say, words drifting into the night.

It's all Miguel needs to kiss you to sleep.

dividers by: @y-onb + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: If you would like to become my designated Spanish checker or a buddy to help me learn/write my Spanish, please let me know 😭. (There was already someone but I forgot your @ !!!)

As always like, reblog, and COMMENT! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

(I am thinking of putting these on my AO3 because they are officially long enough to be fic chapters lol. The question is...how much should I change the format?🤔)

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

[nerdlvr]

nipple piercings .

(MINORS DNI)

pt.2 !

ot7 x reader , nipple play / breast play , inspired by this request

you had just gotten home from a girls day with your best friend, meaning you were worn out, oh and in pain. you and your friend had agreed to do something a little wild and get piercings together, turns out wild to your friend meant to get her belly button pierced, maybe you should've stuck with her idea of wild. now as you looked into the mirror you saw your nipples, swollen and sore, a cute shiny bar pierced right through them. you winced as you brought your hands up to touch them. why did you think this was a good idea?

on top of the pain your phone wouldn't stop ringing your groupchat notifications coming in one after the other.

hyuckie bear! : hellooo is y/n coming i'm only going if she is

junnie 💛 : no seriously why would i willingly hang out with a group of men

nana 🫂 : of course she's coming she always does guysss don't be lame we haven't had movie night in agessss 🥺

my 94 🎸: y/nnnn respond pleaseeee are you coming???

ji bug 👩‍🍼 : y/nnn i just broke my legssss ITS AN EMERGENCYY

puppy 💋 : the way she doesn't care 😭😭

big head baby 💞 : whatever losers i'm calling her

your phone began to ring, chenle's profile pic of him stuffing his face with marshmallows shining on the screen.

"yes chenle, what is it?"

you could hear him giggling to someone on the other end,

"y/n, y/n hellooo, are you coming? we have movie night remember?"

you let out a sigh as you slumped down into your bed,

"uh, i don't know lele i'm kinda tired tonight, can we reschedule?"

you could practically see his reaction from the sound of his voice,

"what? no way! you know we all have have midterms soon, and then it's just studying studying studying, we won't get to see you! tell her ji!"

he passed the phone to jisung,

"y/n can you come please, we miss you, i miss you, just for one movie okay? and then jeno can drive you home!"

you heard jeno in the background yell something along the lines of, i didn't agree to that! and chenle shushing him before grabbing the phone again,

"okay well haechan's on his way! see you soon!"

he hung up before you could answer, leaving you staring at your phone screen. it's just a couple hours right? and you won't get to see the boys again after a while so, maybe you should just go, who knows you might have fun.

.

your outfit was comfortable, not by choice of course, but comfortable nonetheless. you put on your largest tee, praying the material wouldn't graze your nipples, making sure to apply some ointment before leaving, hoping that it would soothe the soreness. so far, not so good. but you were already at jisung and chenle's shared dorm, sitting cross legged on the couch.

you had avoided the greetings as best as you could, resorting to a quick kiss on the cheek instead of your usual hug. thankfully nobody questioned it, boys just happy to see you.

the dorm started filling up, only haechan missing as you all sat around the tv, scrolling through the movie options on netflix. jaemin sat next to you, head on your shoulder as he scrolled through his phone. he sniffed loudly, head coming up to put his nose close to your neck,

you looked down at him, wondering what was wrong. he giggled at you, as he placed his head back on your shoulder,

"weird, you smell like ointment."

you chuckled nervously, did you overdue it with the cream?

"oh uh, yeah, just have some muscle soreness, doctor gave me some cream for it."

he hummed, turning his focus back to his phone. mark scooted in next to you, offering you some popcorn. you thanked him as you took a handful, a grimace on your face as you tasted the snack.

"mark, why do you always put too much salt."

his eyes widened as he tried the popcorn himself,

"dude, i swear i just put a tiny bit!"

you flinched as a pair of large hands grabbed your shoulders from behind,

"put a tiny bit of what? did mark put too much salt in the popcorn again?"

you turned your head, not surprised to see that haechan was the one making fun of mark. he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the cheek before walking around the couch to find a seat.

"sorry i'm late guys, traffic is a bitch."

renjun walked into the living room, ruffling his wet hair,

"nobody cares, wait, you don't even drive?"

haechan motioned for jaemin to move over so he could squeeze in next to you, rolling his eyes at renjun's comment.

"buses also get stuck in traffic you know!"

you all laughed as renjun called haechan a name, before everyone turned their attention to the tv, everyone but haechan that is.

"hi baby, gonna give me a proper hello or do i have to beg?"

you side eyed haechan, used to his antics.

"you already said hello, remember?"

you pointed at your cheek where he pecked you earlier.

"i meant a real hello, like a hug, come here."

before you could protest haechan's arms wrapped around you pulling you into a hug.

"wait, hyuck, wait, OW!"

haechan quickly let go of you, confused by your sudden reaction,

"i'm sorry, are you okay, did i hurt you?"

everyone's attention was now on you and haechan, waiting to see if you were okay.

"oh yeah, my bad, just kinda have sore muscles."

you brought your hand up to hold your arm, pretending to have pain there. you heard jeno chuckle from his seat on the floor in front of you.

"sore? from what? you're going to the gym now?"

you pushed his head, offended by his mocking tone,

"for your information lee jeno, i do actually-OW!"

you flinched, hands coming up to cover your breasts. you turned to see jaemin leaned over haechan reaching forward towards your chest. he giggled before turning his head to look at haechan, arm still stretched out towards you,

"see i told you, it's her nipples that are sensitive."

you slapped his arm away, before wrapping you arms over your breasts again.

"what the hell jaemin! have you lost your mind?"

he blushed slightly leaning back away from haechan, sitting up in his seat now.

"sorry. i just noticed, when i smelled you, you have, like, your, you know-"

he pointed to his chest,

"i saw the piercings through your shirt."

the boys eyes widened as they all turned to face you.

"piercings?"

you rolled your eyes at them,

"sometimes, it's better to mind your business, i don't need to tell you guys everything i do with my life, so what i pierced my nipples, can we hurry up and pick a movie?"

jeno turned to look at you, now on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs,

"you actually got them pierced?"

you suddenly felt shy as you looked at jeno, a soft look on his face.

"well yeah, it was a last minute thing."

chenle scooted over on the floor towards jeno, facing you.

"did it hurt?"

you laughed at his question,

"of course it hurt lele, it still hurts now."

jisung gulped as he walked over towards where the guys had now huddled around you,

"can we see-ouch!"

he rubbed the back of his head where renjun had hit him,

"jisung you can't just ask to see her tits!"

jisung ducked his head, a blush painting his ears,

"uh only if you want of course, i'm just kinda curious."

haechan nodded his head quickly hand coming up to hold your arm,

"me too, i wanna see too."

you looked up at all of them, their eyes shiny and cheeks pink as they waited for your response.

"do you guys want to, like actually?"

they all nodded quickly, embarassingly quickly. mark letting out a cough,

"but only if you want, like ji said."

you bit your lip as you reached for the hem of your shirt. these guys had been your friends for years what's the harm in just letting them get a peek, just a peek.

you lifted your shirt up, gasping lightly as the cool air hit your nipples. all their jaws dropped as they stared at your breasts. nipples perked up and shiny from the ointment. haechan was the first to speak,

"can i touch them?"

you let out a soft yes before you could process that you were letting one of your best friends, touch your tits. but any form of regret immediately disappeared as you felt haechan's large hands cup your breasts, thumb coming up to lightly play with the metal jewelry. you winced at the slight pain. jeno quickly reaching forward to gently remove haechan's hands.

"be gentle hyuck, can't you see they're swollen."

his hands replaced hyuck's, larger and firmer, slightly fondling your breasts before his fingers moved to rub around your nipple. you let out a sigh, the pain from before slowly fading away as jeno massaged your sore breasts.

"yeah? that feel good baby?"

you hummed in response, biting back a moan as the feeling of jeno's hands on your breasts began to cause some tension in your core. you squeezed your thighs together hoping none of them noticed the heat radiating off your body.

mark moved his hand in between your legs, lightly massaging the inside of your thigh.

"this okay?"

you nodded, scared of how your voice would sound if you spoke.

"alright that's enough jen my turn."

jaemin got on his knees in front of you, pushing jeno aside. his hands came up to hold your breasts, slightly squeezing them in his palms before bringing two fingers to gently pinch at your nipples. you sucked in a breath trying to move away from his grasp, when you felt someone's hands brush your hair back, collecting it in his hands, exposing your neck.

"relax baby, we'll be gentle. right jaemin?"

renjun gave the boy between your legs a stern look before gently kissing your neck, nuzzling the spot with his nose after.

mark and chenle on opposite sides of you reached forward, each of them gently massaging one of your thighs before gently pulling them apart, slowly moving their hands inward.

jisung came down to kneel next to jaemin dipping his head towards you exposed tummy, planting light kisses on the sides of your waist, tickling your skin.

you felt a warm breath against your ear, looking over at haechan as he lowered his hand to grip at his bulge,

"tell us when to stop, and we promise we'll leave you alone."

you heard jeno chuckle as he reached forward to undo the bow on your sleeping shorts.

"even though i doubt you'll tell us to stop."

renjun tutted above you,

"play nice boys, we're gonna have to learn to share, right?"

thank goodness you didn't get the belly piercing.

.

DOCTOR SHE'S OUT AGAIN, guys i'm not okay ot7 smut??? who have i become???

[titaswrld]

I have a request for a deadpool fic, if you could make a very angsty story where deadpool thinks he is undeserving of love and never thinks someone in this world would fall for him 😭 he is self-conscious about his looks and never in his right mind it crossed him that he has a chance with the reader, but he would do anything just to feel loved. he's just a constantly depressed ball of sadness, and the only way he copes with his thoughts is his dark humor. while the reader is head over heels for that man, and she's showering him in love, but he only thinks it's because they're friends 😭🫶🏼

monster

description: wade wilson being insecure about his looks, not knowing if the girl he loves would ever love him back.

paring: wade wilson x reader!

contains: angst! with happy ending (i didn’t know how to end it😭)

w.c: 1.2k

|an: finally writing forreals again! i needed to get back into it. thank u for ur request, i hope u like it😇 reader is a baker bc i couldn’t think of a more wholesome career path😭

you’ve known your best friend, wade wilson, for almost a year now. starting off as just occasional friends, hanging out at each other's apartments, watching chick flicks, and eating your weight in junk food until your friendship grew into something deeper, feeling nothing but love and admiration for another and the desire to be something more.

he’s so in love with you; he knows that now. he tried to deny it; he tried telling himself there’s no way, there’s absolutely no way a woman as intelligent, as confident, and as kind as you could ever love a monster like him. He knew you deserved better—a handsome, young, intelligent accountant or something.

his field of work is dangerous; he knows that. killing random people he doesn’t even know for cash. large sums of cash, sure. but, nonetheless, killing. he honestly always found it humorous, a trained marksman, mercenary, and vigilante , with his super cool awesome, still in school to become a pâtissière best friend!

he knew you’d leave; he knew no human being on planet earth could bear even looking at his rough, bumpy skin. that’s why he’s yet to show you his face, never failing to wear his mask around you, even though you’ve known each other for so long now. he didn’t know why you were still around after all this time even with the mask on, he knew most people found him to be annoying, aggravating, and just an all around piece of shit person, but for some reason, you liked him, and you enjoyed being around him.

he’s never had someone so close to him, as you are with him. you’re so kind, so affectionate, and so touchy. he thinks it’s just pity, you’d never think of him as anything more than a friend.

he dreamt of being the man who loved you the rest of your life; he wished that he could fall asleep and wake up to your face every day, make you laugh every day, eat every meal with you, watch every movie and every show, spend every holiday together, fuck, even start a family. he craved you. he craved your love, your care, and your kindness; he wanted to be normal with you, but he’s not normal, far from it. he knew better than that. he knew he didn’t deserve that. he would never be the man that you love.

he’s not ready to let you go, but he can’t keep his feelings for you inside any longer. he honestly dug himself into an even deeper hole, choosing to come over almost every free night he had. he couldn’t stay away from you; he hated being away from you. during every mission and every fight, all he thought about was coming home to you. you’re the only person who truly understood him for the man that he is, and he loves you for that. he’s never opened up to anybody the way that he’d opened up to you. you were special, so special to him. he was terrified.

you felt hopeless, stupid, and desperate. every advance you made, you’d failed. from baking him his favorite treats, to holding his hand while you watched a movie on the couch, to giving him hugs that lasted a little longer than necessary after a long mission, you couldn’t get your best friend out of your mind, not if you tried. hou crave him, his love, his care, his stupid fucking jokes that never end, his sarcastic nature, his sass—you don’t think you have ever loved a man the way that you love wade.

sometimes, he made you think that he might like you back, that he might have some sort of romantic interest in you, but it was quickly shut down after he made a joke, basically telling you that it would never happen.

you and wade were sitting on the couch, just talking, telling stories, and catching up after a particularly long time apart. until you had thought of a statement, that could’ve told you whether or not wade may or may not feel the same way.

your best friend, mia, had mistaken you and wade for a couple while on the phone. when you denied her statement, she apologized, saying she’s sorry for assuming, but you did spend all your time together..

when you told wade what she said, he doubled down in laughter before spitting out, “you? me? never. who is this friend? have i met her? has she seen me before? you might need to get her 5150’d.”

which did shatter your heart into a million pieces, but nonetheless, it wouldn’t stop you from trying to show him how much you care, how much you want to be with him, and how much you want to love him. he deserved love, and you wanted to give it to him.

each time he made a self-deprecating joke, it broke your heart. it was torture for you. the most he would ever do is lift his mask slightly when he ate with you, only to pop a piece of food in his mouth, then sheathe his face with his mask once again to chew, repeating the process until he’d finished. but even then, you never looked out of respect.

there were multiple occasions where you could’ve snuck a peek, where you could’ve turned around and saw his full face, but you knew how genuinely insecure he felt and how scared he was for you to see his face, so you never looked, not wanting to betray his trust or make him uncomfortable. you loved him, and you wish he understood that absolutely nothing could change that. especially not the way he looks.

today, you were sat on your couch, waiting for him to arrive. He said he’d be over tonight for the usual—rom-coms and junk food. but today, you felt different, your balls finally dropped, and you were ready to admit how you felt, whether it was a good or bad outcome, you were ready.

every single worst-case scenario clouded your thoughts, making your palms sweaty and causing a deep ache in your chest until you heard a knock at your door, saving you from plummeting even farther into your head.

you open the door, and time feels slow motion. you didn’t see deadpool; you saw wade for the first time- the real wade. standing there with an anxious expression plastered across his mottled face, snacks in one hand and flowers ripped from the dirt outside of your apartment complex in the other.

your stomach dropped along with your expression, the shock stunning you into place as you began to gather your thoughts. this is what he was hiding, you thought. jesus christ, all of that trouble for this? you could almost hit him.

wade, on the other hand, paced in your hallway, back and forth for 15 minutes before this, trying to decide whether he should just bail and leave the fucking country or finally stop being pussy and just show you his goddamn face.

after seeing your initial reaction, his head dropped, his gaze on the floor, as he muttered, “i know. total freak show, right? freddy kruger? craterface? cmon, lay it on me.”

now was your chance, as you cupped his face with your hands and pressed your soft lips against his dry, cracked ones. you felt his tense muscles drop and relax as he melted into the kiss, relishing in the feeling and making sure it was real, too.

you’d pulled away, looking him in the eyes and flashing a smile his way before placing kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin.

your gaze fell across his face once again, this time meeting you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“so— ten things i hate about you, or steel magnolias?”

[not-rigel]

Always take care of you

Rating: E

warnings: butch4butch, brothel, smut, switch sevika, fingering r! recieving, cunnilingus r!recieving, edging, praise kink, use of "good boy", riding, emotional sex, aftercare, lets hope i'm not missing anything important

A/N: this is written to be read as butch4butch but i tried not to use many descriptors for reader. butches i love you sm and you deserve a sweet treat

WC: 6.1k!!!! (im sorry i got so fucking carried away)

It’s been weeks since the news of Silco’s death spread across Zaun. Silco's death left a massive power vacuum in the Undercity, displacing several people in the following turf wars, yourself included. You moved deeper into the Undercity, following the demands for your services. Where there's power, demand for sex is right behind. 

Your line of work is rewarding, monetarily and emotionally. It was something that was suggested to you long ago. Not quite in the way some of the other workers you've encountered were. You had always liked to support and service others. You liked validating people in ways they never understood they needed. If you could help someone through their struggles and be told “I needed this. Thank you.” you were happy. So when a friend mentioned that sex work is another way to help others, you didn't need much time to think it over. 

It took a few days to find work again at The Gardens. The atmosphere was a little different than your original brothel but a brothel nonetheless. The clientele here was more diverse. You were surprised at the range of people who walk through the doors. There would be couples looking to spice up their love life. Released prisoners that struggle to transition back into life and dating. Even overlords who are overworked without time for dating. It is beautiful to see all the people coming in, bonding over sex. 

Despite the clientele being diverse, the workers weren't quite as varied. Even with having several men working at The Gardens, you were the most masculine person working there. All the men were pretty, long eyelashes and high cheekbones. All the women were showstopping, dressed head to toe in sparking fabrics and adorned with accessories. And it is fine with you to not be “pretty”. You preferred the masculine pet names and compliments. It ended up working to your advantage, attracting femme clients. 

You're ten hours into your shift with a little over two hours left to go. You have a new client that paid for a full hour and your final hour is still unbooked. It's all fine by you, having made more than enough money tonight. 

The time you have between sessions passes quickly and you smooth over your clothes before walking over to your designated room. All you know about your next client is her name, Sevika, that she is trying to band the Undercity together and is rumored to be phenomenal at sex. Naturally, gossip occurs at brothels so it's not uncommon for you to know a few facts behind each name. 

You arrive at the curtains that separates the room from the hall, pinching the fabric and pulling it open enough to enter. Her aura is what you notice first. She sits legs spread on the sofa. It's a power pose, dominant and in charge. The more you take in her appearance, the more excited you feel. There have been several times you have found yourself attracted to your clients and she was incredibly attractive. She's the most masculine woman you've had as a client. Sharp jaw, short hair and thick eyebrows. For a moment you wonder if she is aware of who she's booked. You attracted the femme crowd exclusively. 

She looks you over, hand coming up to cover her mouth. There's a glimmer of a smile in her eyes, a sparkle so quick you almost miss it. So maybe she is aware of what she's paying for.  

To Sevika, you were a dream brought to life. It was how you dressed, how you held your posture, your hands, your expressions. Small little things that gave the masculine vibe. Babette wasn't fucking kidding when she told Sevika she'd “recently hired someone that was just your type.” She's been a regular at the brothel for years. Each pretty, glittering face blending together over the years. Your face couldn't blend in even if Sevika tried. 

You take in a breath to ask her how she wants to proceed but she beats you to it “I want a contract.” she says simply, cutting straight to the point. 

You pinch your eyebrows in confusion, “What?” 

This was an odd request. Contracts, or sexual agreement forms, were usually reserved for workers with regular clients. When clear boundaries needed to be placed for the complex dynamics in a long term relationship. They leave no space for uncertainty. Knowing exactly what your clients want also rids the need to ask every time. 

Sevika shakes her head, breathing out a little laugh-like huff through her nose, “A contract. Where we'll go over preferences then agree and sign.” 

“I know all that I am… confused. You're not my regular,” you explain.  

“Gotta start somewhere. Don't see any point in waiting. I want a contract with you,” she says it so sincerely, looking you right in the eyes as she does. 

Your heart flutters a little. It seems like she is attracted to you, unless you're misunderstanding her demand for a contract. Everyone at The Garden's told you contracts were a big deal but Sevika will be your first. 

“Okay. Um, I have to get them from Babette's office. Will that be alright?” you ask, not wanting to leave her alone while she is paying for your services. 

“Go, I’ll be here,” she grants, nodding toward the curtain.

“Alright. I'll be right back.” 

“And bring two,” she calls out before you leave.

“You need an extra copy?” 

“No.” 

You want to ask what she means but with each minute that passes without servicing her, the more guilt settles in. You leave the room, rushing to Babette's office to complete Sevika’s request. Babette is shocked to see you when you draw open the curtain to her office. 

“Aren't you booked with Sevika, hon? No one comes to my office during her sessions. Is everything alright?” Babette asks. 

“She requested a contract. Asked for an extra copy too” you tell her. 

Babette is taken aback, not shocked for the same reasons you were. She expected Sevika to take a little longer with you from nerves. 

“I honestly thought that girl would take a few visits to make a contract with you. I told her she'd like you,” Babette rambles as she retrieves the documents from her cabinet. She hands you the papers with a couple of pens.  

“Good luck, hon. She's got a lot going on right now. But I'm sure you can handle her.” 

You don't question what Babette could be referring to. Leaving the room, you thank Babette from over your shoulder. You rush back to Sevika’s room, hoping you can still make the most of your limited time. 

“I hope you weren't waiting too long,” you say as you reenter the room. Sevika smiles at you, not hiding it this time. It's a crooked smirk, confident and laid back. The only thing giving her away was her picking at her cuticles.

“Not at all.” She pats the vacant spot next to her on the sofa.  

You take a seat, leaving about two inches of space between you and hand her both contacts. You usually avoided initiating physical contact with your clients, letting them make the first move. You wanted your clients to be comfortable and initiate on their own terms. Sevika scoots over to close the small distance between you, pressing her thigh against yours. You return the press, leaning your shoulder into her as well. She is incredibly warm, heat diffuses from her skin into yours. The heat spreads past your shoulder and thighs, dissolving across your entire body with electric buzzing. 

“I should be honest and say I haven’t had a client with a contract so this process is new to me. I promise that I’ll do my best to service you accordingly” you tell her. 

“I kinda assumed you haven't had one before. With you being new here and all. I'll walk you through it.” 

You chuckle, “You shouldn't have to. It's my job.” 

“It's our contract. We'll do it together. First page,” she counters, clicking her pen. She hands one of the contracts to you. Using her thigh as a writing surface, she prints her name at the top of the page.  

“Answer for yourself. Not what you think I'll like,” she says, filling in her dynamic preferences.

“You mean…?” your words trail off. This is an odd request. Contracts were meant so the workers always know what their clients want. Your wants aren't meant to me on the contract at all. 

“I want you to fill out your wants and your boundaries. More than that, I want you to not think about my wants,” She taps her pen against the page before speaking again, “You probably get it… people assuming that we're automatically tops and dominant because we're butch. I don’t know about you but I sometimes feel stuck in a box.”

You do get it. The assumption that your masculinity automatically translates into authority. The assumption that you didn't need softness too. The feeling that all people see when they look at you is a woman trying to be a man. You're beginning to understand her, what being at The Gardens means for her. The first piece of the puzzle has been set on the table. 

“I get it,” you snort and smile at her, “I completely fucking get it.” 

You make a show of clicking your pen and printing your name at the top of the page. The sexual agreement is several pages long, listing roles, acts, kinks and terms and conditions.You fill out your forms together. It's the calmest you've felt in a long time. 

“You finished the first page yet?” Her thigh pushes against yours again. 

“Yup.” you turn over to the next sheet and nudge her back.

You've made it to the second to last page of the contract, checking off the last box in the fetish section. The bottom of the page says all involved parties must review the agreement together before proceeding to the final page. 

“Ready to review?” you ask, even though you heard Sevika flip her contract back over to the first page two minutes ago. 

“I'm ready. And just cross out anything you don’t like. I won’t mind.”

You swap contracts, and you work on memorizing all of her preferences. Sevika has checked off switch and masochist in the dynamics area. As for sex acts, several of the options have been checked off. The ones you make an effort to commit to memory are vaginal intercourse, anal intercourse, fingering, body worship, cum eating, finger sucking, edging, orgasm control, bondage, sensory deprivation, nipple clamps, biting, scratching, hair-pulling. All checked for receiving and giving. You write a slash through anything you don’t want to do. 

“Can I get you to fill this one out a bit more?” Sevika hands you back your contract, where she’s circled ‘praise kink’, “I want you to add some phrases or what you like to be called.”  

Sevika works fast, on the kink and fetish page already. You take a break from reading over her contract to amend yours. You write “good boy” “perfect” and “you’re doing so good” into the margin. She takes the contract back, eyes widening as she reads what you’ve written. She risks a glance at you, seeing that you’re watching her. 

“You probably haven’t made it to that page yet but… we got a lot in common,” she chuckles. 

“I can’t wait.” 

Sevika doesn’t look away, and you let her hold eye contact. 

“Can you sit on my lap?” She requests, it's spoken in a whisper. Like she is afraid to ask at all. 

“Yes. Anything,” you assure her. You stand from your spot, slowly moving to settle onto her lap. You sit on her thigh and she hooks her flesh arm under your knees and rests them onto her other thigh. Her mechanical arm supports your lower back. You read over the kinks and fetishes page as her head rests on your shoulder. She was right to say you have a lot in common, every kink is aligned with yours. You see at the bottom of the page, where there is a bit of black space, Sevika has written in “Aftercare is necessary and non-negotiable.” You put a little checkmark next to it. 

“Finished. Anything you want to discuss before we sign?” you ask. 

“What were your no’s?” 

You tell her where your preferences did not align and she takes the news admirably well. She made no changes to your contract. Together, you flip to the final page, filling out your names on both copies. Sevika uses your thigh as a surface to sign. When you’re done she takes your contract and sets them somewhere on the sofa. 

“Well there's about ten minutes left in my hour. We can just sit here,” she lays her head onto your shoulder, face nuzzling your neck. Somehow she has even more warmth to offer, hot breath melting past your skin and muscles and bones. Warmth moves through you in a way that doesn't feel physical. 

“I dont have anyone booked next hour,” you groaned. You cupped the back of her head with one hand, feeling the soft, buzzed hairs of her undercut. You pull her face in closer, so she can warm you even more.  

“Is that flirting or good salesmanship?” she whispers against your skin. 

“Flirting.”  

“Thanks,” she laughs, “But I won’t be able to tonight. Tight schedule.” 

“Then what do we do with your time?”

She cups your jaw, your chin resting in her palm. You lean your face into her hold, waiting for her to make the next move. Her fingertips twitch, another tell that she’s nervous. Another piece of the puzzle clicking into place. You look into her eyes, trying to find her. To know her. 

“I want you to kiss me,” her voice trembles as much as her fingers on your cheeks. You hear the meaning in the words. It's not that she wants to kiss, it's that she wants to be kissed. 

You nod, slanting your face closer to hers. You feel the tingle, that bit of warmth only Sevika gives you when you touch, as you close the distance. You lips meet hers in a soft kiss, her hand that was on your jaw trailed to the back of your neck and her thumb strokes the nape of your neck. You reposition your legs, swinging them over her thighs to straddle her. Sevika moans and pulls you closer, closing the space left between you. Her breast presses into yours, pushing into you with each breath. 

You want to make her melt beneath you, kiss her until she knows softness like she’s never known it before. With the hand that’s cupping her head, you card your fingers through the short strands of her hair. Each tender press of your lips against her made her shudder and sink into the sofa. Each kiss gave you more pieces to the puzzle you’ve been fitting together all night. There are still pieces missing but you start to see the image. Sevika is soft. Sevika is emotional. Sevika is passionate. It's a passion that's been simmering, waiting to be reheated to the boiling point. 

“Sevika,” you whisper against her lips, “All that beauty you have inside… Let it out.” 

She trembles as she pulls you back to the kiss. She let out a soft moan as her eyes fluttered beneath her lids, your kisses making her skin prick with goosebumps. Your fingers running through her hair felt so comforting. Sevika loved giving pleasure for years, something she knows she's good at. Something she used to box herself into doing for years. 

With Zaun on course for war, Sevika lost so much. It's why she went to the brothel in the first place. Needing somewhere to go to make Piltover stop existing. But somehow during the years she dedicated her life to Silco, she became so focused on one goal to see her through every decision she made, all her other wants got pushed away. She forgot how long it's been since she’s been shown tenderness. She forgot how long it's been since she was something other than a brute. In all the years of coming to the brothel trying to escape the knowledge of her life, she never escaped being Silco’s goon. But right now she is in your arms and you are kissing her with tenderness and care and beauty. You’re kissing her the way she deserves. 

You’re startled by a bell, the timer on the wall meant to let you know your session has finished. Against your wants, you separate yourself from her. You cannot begin playing favorites and go against the rules for Sevika. 

“I’m sorry but after the bell I cannot service you any further. But I can walk you out,” you offer, not quite ready to depart. 

Sevika is catching her breath, staring at you with soft, sparkling eyes. It's the look you always strive for from your clients. The look that someone’s felt intimacy after having lost it. She's so beautiful it makes it so hard to follow the rules. 

“Come on. Gotta get you outta here or I’ll have to start charging you,” you urge. 

“Sorry” she stutters, still panting. 

“It’s okay. It’s my responsibility to keep track of the time and give you time to recover. This is on me,” you tell her. 

Sevika stands, struggling to maintain balance. She walks to the curtain, turning to give you one last glance. 

“That was perfect. Wouldn’t want my hour any other way,” she thanked.

“Good. You’re welcome, Sevika.” 

You walk with her to the door and watch as she disappears into the streets. For the first time, Sevika leaves the brothel without at least some level of grinding. This was the least sexual encounter she's had to pay for. But it's the most fulfilled she’s ever felt afterward. She feels whole and at peace. 

It's been almost one day since Sevika’s first session. Almost 24 hours since you kissed her like she is the most beautiful person in the world. The day was slow for you, just three clients so far. Most of your day was spent planning outfits and reviewing your next week's schedule. You sigh as it looks like you'll also spend your last two hours trying to pass time when Miguel taps you on the shoulder. 

“Your last two hours have been booked,” he informs you, “Sevika.” 

Your heart reacts before you do. Outwardly, you nod and thank him. On the inside, you can feel the ghost of Sevika's warmth. 

“Is she here now?” You try not to sound excited but Miguel sees through you. It's an expected reaction, he's even seen girls jump with joy when he tells them they're booked for Sevika. 

“The gold room,” he says, tilting his head toward the hallway. 

You thank him again and speed walk down the hall, shoving the curtain open when you arrive. Sevika is sitting on the circular bed in the middle of the room, fingers tracing over the quilt. 

“Hi,” you say awkwardly. She reaches her hand out, and you walk over to her and take it.  She pulls you in to straddle her lap, needing to recreate the moment from last night. She is even warmer than you remember. Her head buries into your shoulder and she swears it's remolded to fit her head perfectly. 

“I left here the best I've felt in a long time. I need that feeling again,” she confesses into your shoulder. 

“I'll do everything to give you that feeling again. Is there anything you want specifically?”  

“I want you. Wanna see what happens in the moment.”

You support her jaw in your hand and tilt it toward you to pull her into a kiss. Sevika immediately pushes into the kiss, lips desperately moving against yours. There's something different today, something that begs for more than tenderness. You kiss her, trying to pull away at what she wants. 

Sevika groans into your mouth, and your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her. You don't push far, waiting for her reaction. She grabs your hips with her right hand. She seems to favor it, which is understandable considering her mech hand is a giant claw. She flips the two of you over, pressing you down into the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and Sevika climbs over to straddle your hips. 

“Sorry I just… I want you so much,” she groaned, leaning down to trail her lips across your jaw before moving down and kissing your neck. Then a soft bite, followed by gently sucking on the skin she bit. She needs you. 

“Never apologize. I want this just as much,” you moan beneath her, loving the switch between needy Sevika that pleads to be kissed and desperate Sevika that takes what she needs. You tangle your fingers into her hair, holding her against your neck. She continues to lick and kiss at your skin, switching back and forth between firm and soft kisses. 

After a few minutes, her fingers dig under the hem of your shirt, pulling it from your skin. You part from the kiss to give her a nod, lifting your back off the bed so she can pull your shirt off. She stares down at you and her mind is at war with itself. She wants to jump right in with you, know what it's like to feel this closeness paired with the euphoria of sex. She also wants to savor kissing you. 

“Sevika, finish what you started please,” you shiver, dissatisfied with only having your shirt off while she stares at you with hungry, lustful eyes. 

She complies, stripping off the rest of your clothes, kissing the skin she exposes as she removes each garment. All of her kisses have left enough intimacy and warmth to last you a lifetime. But your night is far from over. 

“Strip me,” Sevika gasps, hauling you up off the bed to stand with her. You carefully remove her clothes, peeling back layer after layer. Sevika is covered in muscles, her skin barely restraining them. Scars split her skin, some cutting into her skin. Others discolored and raised. All of her is exquisite. Even though you’re the worker and she is the client, you find yourself needing her. You need her to touch you. 

You grasp her hand and lead her back to the bed. You guide her so the two of you kneel at the center of the bed. You guide her hand, sucking two fingers into your mouth, wetting them before trailing them down your torso. You trace her wet fingers to your cunt then release her hand and  she feels over your folds. Her fingers pass over your clit before moving down to enter you. She slides one long finger into you and you grip her shoulders, whimpering for her. Her finger pumps inside of you, against the sensitive spot within, and she feels you flutter and clench in response. Each pump wettens her fingers even more and makes an obscene, sinful sound.  

“Another,” you whine, needing as much of her as you can get. 

Sevika obeys and another finger enters you, sliding in easily. She moves her fingers in and out at a slow place, building the tension higher and higher. Making your skin grow hotter and hotter. Everytime she fully inserted her fingers back into you, you cannot help but gasp.

“You feel so perfect,” she praised you as she kept thrusting her long fingers. Your brain melts a little from the praise. Her fingers moved faster and you began to roll your hips desperately. You still moan in time with her thrusts, occasionally chanting out a little “uh uh uh fuck yes”. You feel your orgasm creeping up on you and so does Sevika. 

“We didn’t talk about it but.. Do you wanna cum now or can I edge you?” she gasps, still fucking her fingers into you. 

You feel a tingle run through your body, dizzying you with lust, “Yes. please,” you mewl. 

“Tell me when you’re close,” she huffs. She thumbs over your clit, rubbing the bud in circles as her fingers curl inside you. She reacts to each of your moans, thrusting harder when you choke out a gasp. Your orgasm continues to build, pleasure layering inside of your waiting to topple down. 

“Almost there, Sevika. Please,” you whine, grasping her shoulders. He quickens her thumb’s circling of your clit and it pushes you closer to release. 

“I’m going to cum!” you cry, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Sevika removes her fingers and you feel yourself being placed back on top of the cliff the moment before you fall. The tension she’s built retreats in a way you’ve always found addicting. 

“Good boy,” she coos, lifting her hand up to press her fingers to your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you groan at the praise. With one hand you grab her wrist and with the other you cup her neck. You shove her fingers into her mouth instead, pushing her head further onto her hand.   

Sevika shuts her eyes, savoring the taste and feeling of her fingers on her tongue. You see her eyes roll back beneath her lids. She licks all of your arousal away, tongue swirling over her fingers. Too soon the taste is gone and she is left wanting more. You gave her so many things to want. 

She pushed you, your back hitting the bed. She spreads your legs and you quickly recover from being edged, ready for her again. As she lays down between your thighs, you grip her hair, leading her to your waiting cunt.    

Sevika wastes no time, burying her face between your thighs. Her tongue parts your folds, licking up to flick your clit. She lifts her head to reposition and you see the string of spit that connects you. She dips back down, sucking on your labia. The world tilts, leaving you hanging onto her for dear life. She explores you with deliberate slowness, licking over every twitch of your clit. Your hips push forward to get more of her mouth on you. She responds immediately, her tongue flicking in just the right way. Another orgasm begins to build as she sucks and kisses your clit. 

“I’m almost there,” you warn her, in case she wants to edge you again. 

Sevika doesn’t relent, and you try to hold on. You can feel it in her touch, each kiss to your folds, she wanted you to let go. She wants you to enjoy her, not as a client but as herself. Sevika felt the moment you relented, relaxing your hips so she could grab and pull you where she wanted. Your body trembles and your breaths are ragged as she builds you up again, carefully layering your orgasm up to be perfect. And it is. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth when you begin to wail. You back arches off of the bed but Sevika holds your hips in place. Your other hand leaves her hair to clap over your mouth, both hands muffling your cries. 

Your orgasm is like the tiny rays of light that manage to make it to the Undercity. The sparkling proof that life will find you in the oddest places. Tears pour from your eyes as the light consumes you. Usually your clients are the one that cry, the vulnerability of sex catching up with them. It was always beautiful to you, seeing their humanity come out. But you never experienced it yourself. The flood of safety and joy. You always told your clients that crying after orgasm is nothing more than a fleeting reaction. But this was not fleeting. The tears were just the tip of the iceberg of yourself that were begging to be explored.

When your orgasm ends and your body relaxes into the bed, Sevika crawls up your body, kissing you with your cum.  Her mouth and nose are covered in your slick and she spreads it over your face as she kisses you. She cups your cheeks and wipes your tears away. 

“Now you know how I felt,” she whispers against your lips. 

“Please, I need to make you feel that way. I need to give it to you,” you plead. She cannot give you the most beautiful orgasm in the world and not let you return the favor. 

“You don’t need to try. You already make me feel that way.”

“No. I need you to cum for me and feel it. It’s like you unlocked something in me. Let me do the same for you. Please Sevika. You deserve it.” Those words break her. Everytime Sevika thinks she cannot find something new with you, you prove her wrong. There’s still a part of her that needs to be held. A vulnerability that still needs to be reached. 

“Get the strap,” she pants, flopping over so she is laying on her back. As you locate the harness, a dildo, and lube, Sevika sets pillows under her back. You step into the harness and tighten the straps onto your hips before securing the dildo into the ring. You crawl over to Sevika, kneeling between her parted legs. 

She is beautiful, arousal dripping in beads past her brown folds. Thighs shivering as you squirt lube into your hand and stroke it over your dick. You lean over her, grasping her hand in one of your own while using the other to guide your dick to her cunt. 

“You do absolutely amazing things to me. I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” she whimpers, tears already pricking her eyes. 

“You don’t have to know why. Just believe me when I say you do,” you assure her. You push your hips forward, entering her slowly. Sevika’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you further into her. You try to pull your hips away to fuck her but her legs keep you locked inside of her. 

“Do you need a moment?” you ask her, stroking her cheek. 

Her eyes dart around, trying to find the right answer, “I think… I’m not ready to give in.” she bites her lip in shame and you pull her lip from her teeth with your thumb. 

“That’s okay. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. We can do something else. Can I pull out?” 

She shakes her head, “I still want this. I want you inside me I just.. I can’t give up,” she cries, tears falling from her eyes. 

“Hey hey hey, if you can’t give, then take,” you offer. It hurts you to see her falling apart after so much progress. But you wouldn't watch her retreat. When she releases her leg lock on you, you tell her you’re going to pull out. She nods and you slowly remove yourself from her, “What do you want? You don’t have to tell me right away. You still have an hour.”  

Sevika thinks for a moment, for how she can have you feel that vulnerability without handing it over too  quickly. It was a sudden scary feeling, the knowledge that she was right there. She felt ashamed for running from the feeling. How could she still be with you if she can’t relent? You said she could take but she was always a giver with pleasure. 

“Can I.. Can I ride you?” she asks. She honestly didn’t even know that’s what she was going to ask for, she just spoke from the heart. 

“Absolutely. Tell me how you want me,” you coax. 

“Lay down?” 

You lay on your back and she straddles your hips, she's still shivering from nerves. 

“Sevika, you don’t have to if you’re not ready,” you assure her. You couldn’t let her do something she didn’t really want. You have half a mind to safeword and just hold her the rest of the session. 

“I’m scared but.. I’m ready. I’m so fucking scared of what I’ll feel,” she admits, sniffling. 

“It’s normal to be scared. I’m right here, Sev. I made you a promise with that contract that I will always take care of you.” 

At your words she dives down and presses her lips to your, kissing you messily. She grabs your hand and places it onto her hip then takes your dick and aligns it with her cunt. Sevika whines as she sinks slowly, needing to take her time. 

“You’re doing amazing. Such a good boy,” you urge, and she whimpers as you praise her. 

She rolls her hips in experimental circles, getting a feel for how much she can take. When she lifts her hips, your dick slides past her g-spot and it helps her understand. It's a little taste of the feeling you had, and she wasn’t scared of it anymore. She drops her hips again and it coaxes a small moan out of you as the strap bumps your clit. She wants to hear more. Sevika lifts her hips and slams back down, your hips jerk up at the force of hers. She sinks over and over onto you, your hips bucking up to meet her. 

“Good fucking boy, taking your pleasure. Just like you deserve." 

Sevika groaned, “No, you’re my good boy. Making me feel special and whole.” 

“You’re so fucking special,” you moaned. 

Sevika grabs the back of your head and helps you sit up. You hold her face as she drops onto your dick, gasping out moans. 

For the first time. Sevika doesn't try to lose herself in the sex. She finds herself. When you hold her and tell her how perfect she is, how much you want her, she feels connected in a way she never has before. Before now, it was an act. Something she needed to do for release and settling for any face to fill her needs. She’d come for sex for years, but you gave her intimacy. While staring into her eyes, you find an agreement there. That no matter what, you're not going to let her go. You're all she has right now to hold onto the world. You hold her head, stroking her cheeks with your thumbs. Tears fall onto your fingertips and you smooth them away. Sevika reached up to hold your hand against her cheek. Sevika is shivering, every cell buzzing with need. But the need was beyond touch or feeling, it's a need of belonging. Every part of Sevika knew she belonged here, grinding onto your dick while looking into your eyes. 

“Don't look away. I need you to keep looking at me like that,” she pleads.

“No. Never. I need you too. Shit, I need you.”

Sevika cums, dripping down your dick and into your lap. It sticks to your thighs and mixes with your own arousal that's been leaking from you since she first sank onto you. Sevika feels like she could breathe underwater, surrounded by peace and comfort without a worry in the world. You watch as her body shakes with the overflow of emotion, feelings of trust and intimacy mixing with warmth and satiation from her orgasm. You feel her fingers tighten on your hand and you don’t let her go. When her eyes open, you wipe away each other's tears. 

She lifts her hips to release you from her and flops down on your chest. You kiss her hair and stroke her cheek. 

“Sevika, I’m so proud of you. Most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever seen,” you whisper into her hair. 

Sevika nuzzles her head into your chest, cuddling to you for more comfort. With that, the last piece of your puzzle is placed, and she becomes clear. Sevika is nowhere near loved as much as she should be. As much as Babette insisted that love has no place in the brothel, the existence of Sevika made the statement untrue. Sevika needed love so badly, and you needed to give it to her. 

“What do you want for aftercare, love?” you ask her, testing out a new pet name. Sevika sighs into your chest and wraps her flesh arm over you, deepening the cuddle. 

“Hold me and tell me you’ll always take care of me.”

You press another kiss to her hair and wrap your arms over her, “Sevika, I’m going to take care of you no matter what. Sexually, emotionally, any way you need. You need so much love and I’ll be here to give you as much as I can. I just hope it's close to what you need.” 

divider by @cafekitsune

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[inlovewithpandora]

ꕥ — Found Someone Better / The End Of An Era

Artists — Jake x Neytiri x fem!avatar!reader

Genre — Chapter One

Lyrics — The beautiful relationship you use to have with your mates in the beginning has become loveless. Their horrible treatment toward you drove you into making the hardest decision of your life: running away.

Music Advisory — Pre-Atwow, Angst, hurt w/o comfort, sprinkles of fluff (with Lo’ak), ooc Jake, ooc Neytiri, dying marriage (that ends in implied divorce/breakup) implied/light scenes of domestic violence, implied emotional/physical abuse, mentions of manhandling, controlling!Jake, mean!Jake, mean!Neytiri, implied neglect, Kids are aged-down: Tuk - 1 / Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider - 7 /Neteyam - 8

Some of the topics above are considered triggering to some. If you don’t agree with any of the content above or it makes you uncomfortable please dni! You’re responsible for your own consumption!

Duration — 4.3k

Index — ‘itan - son / yawntutsyìp - darling / mawey - calm

Words From Artist — The first chapter of the series is finally here! I’m so excited to start this series because this idea has been brewing for a while! This story will take you on an emotional roller coaster so grab some tissues, get ready to be upset at certain situations, smile at the happy moments, and smirk during the spicy scenes! I hope y’all enjoy and always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! With that being said let the story begin!!

Current Platforms — Series M.list ・Series Taglist・Main M.list

As you sit in front of the cooking fire, stirring the pot of food you’re serving for lunch, you look up and see Neytiri sitting on Jake’s lap as they work on weaving a blanket together. Their laughs echo through the room and you can see them stealing kisses from each other every few minutes which makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. You haven’t always felt this way about your mates, your heart wasn't always filled with hate from how affectionate they are towards each other, but over the years this is what your relationship has gradually become: them being in their own world while you sit on the sidelines feeling alone.

In the beginning of your relationship, you felt love from them, probably Neytiri more than Jake, but nonetheless it was present. When you made the decision to become their mate, you left the comfort of the lab and fully emerged yourself into the Na’vi lifestyle and that included the soul transfer to permanently become one with your Avatar body. You loved being a scientist, but you loved being with your spouses more, so you put that aspect of your life on hold to explore a deeper relationship with them.

You knew they had an established relationship prior to you coming into the picture, and you were fine with that because they were always loving and kind towards you, but now they’re too consumed with each other to show you any sort of affection. When you first started noticing Jake and Neytiri not wanting to be intimate with you, you assumed it was because they were stressed or tired from their duties as Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, plus having to take care of four entergetic children. However, one day while you were walking in the forest, collecting fruits to prepare as a side dish for lunch, you witnessed Jake and Neytiri having sex in a clearing of grass, his hands gripped tightly around her waist as he thrusted into her from behind as moans of pleasure spilled from Neytiri’s lips.

Watching your mates indulge in acts of sexual pleasure without you made you feel a tinge of pain that was indescribable. Knowing that your partners, the people who were supposed to love you the most, no longer saw you as sexually appetizing and felt the need to sneak around made your stomach turn into knots. Deep down you always felt like you should say something, tell them that you caught them during their private rendezvous, but you decided to keep quiet because you didn’t want a conflict to arise and make your living situation worse than it currently is.

No matter how hard you thought about it and replayed all the memories in your head about different stages of your relationship, you could never figure out when or why their love for you faded. Sometimes you would think about separating from them and moving on with your life, but you tolerated their behavior because of your children, not wanting them to grow up in a broken home.

While grinding a few herbs to season your food with, you hear the sound of small feet running in the marui, making a small creep on your face, already knowing who it could be. “Mama!” Lo’ak shouts in excitement while he runs up to you and wraps his arms around your neck, happy to see you after a long day.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” You ask as you plant a kiss on his cheek, wanting to hear everything about his day so far. Lo’ak was your biological son, you gave birth to him a year after Neytiri had Neteyam. Lo’ak is your pride and joy, when you gave birth to him you felt like he was your physical heart on display. Knowing that this little boy came from your womb made you want to be the best mother to him, so that’s what you’ve done ever since he took his first breath.

When Lo’ak opens his mouth, ready to give you a spiel about his day, Jake’s voice begins to bounce off the walls of the marui, already deciding to start a sense of chaos. “Lo’ak! Stop talking and go do your chores around the house!”

“But I was-”

“Now, boy! Don’t talk back to me!” Lo’ak’s ear flattens against his head and the light of excitement in his eyes dims. When he was on the way home, he was compiling so many stories together in his head, so many things happened and he couldn’t wait to tell you every second of it, so when his father denies him the chance, it makes him deeply upset.

You don’t like seeing Lo’ak like this, a downcast expression and sad eyes, so you decide to pull him closer to you so you could tell him something that you know for sure would lift his spirits. “Don’t be sad, ‘itan. When you finish, me and you will go out and I’ll take you to your favorite pond to play in.” You could tell he’s back in his happy boyish mood when his frown turns into a smile and his head pops up from him staring at the ground. “Okay!” He replies in the quietest tone possible before running off to his chores so you both can go on your adventure.

When you watch him disappear to another part of the marui, Kiri and Neteyam greet you with a hug and a few kisses, telling you how much they missed you and how they were ready to come home. Once they finish talking to you they start playing in the center of the room which makes your eyebrow raise in a confused manner, wondering why their father hasn’t sent them to complete their current duties around the house like their younger brother. “Jake, why aren’t they doing anything?”

“‘Cause they don’t need to, they’re fine.” His harsh tone doesn’t phase you, he’s used it one too many times before, so you're used to it by now. Jake has always treated Lo’ak differently than the rest of the children, no matter how much Lo’ak tried to get his father to interact with him, he would always decline. He showed his other children more love and affection, taking them out to play and carving them wooden toys, but for Lo’ak, he didn’t do any of those things and sometimes not even your other mate. It never made sense to you why he or Neytiri treat Lo’ak that way, he’s such a sweet and innocent boy and he doesn’t deserve that type of treatment. Since they’re emotionally negligent, you always make it your mission to pour love and affection into Lo’ak’s life to fill in the areas they lack.

Instead of telling Jake how you feel about his way of handling things, you just sit back and bite your tongue, not wanting to start an argument with the kids in the room. All you could do is shake your head at his cold demeanor and how Neytiri is just sitting there like what just happened is okay. When Jake turns his attention from you and looks back toward Neytiri, you can see his facial expression soften; he looks more calm with Neytiri, he acts as if she’s his only mate, the only love of his life and that’s what makes you want to scream and cry at the same time. Just seeing them interact with each other makes you wonder how the hell your once loving relationship turned into this.

—

Jake and Neytiri took the older kids into the village so they could go to their young warrior training to learn and practice the basics about Na’vi life. Therefore, you’re currently home taking care of Tuk, watching her walk around the marui while babbling in her baby language that only she can understand. The sun starts to set and you see Tuk starting to get sleepy, little yawns coming from her mouth as her tiny hands rub her eyes. “Is my little one tired?” You ask as you scoop her up off the floor and cradle her in your arms. She responds to your question with a cute nod, looking up at you with her big golden eyes making your heart melt. You lay her gently down in her wooden crib before pulling her woven blanket over her and kissing her goodnight.

When you close the privacy curtain to the makeshift doorway, you see your family walking inside. Your eyes focus on how Jake has his hand wrapped around the back of Lo’ak’s neck, making you wonder what’s going on between them. When Jake roughly lets go of him, Lo’ak runs to you with tears in his eyes, making your protective instincts arise. “What’s wrong, ‘itan?” You bend down to his eyes level, wanting to figure out what was the cause of his tears. When you see a few drops of clear liquid trickle down his face, you take your thumb and wipe under his eyes. “Talk to me, yawntutsyìp. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Me and Ne-Neteyam were taking turns shooting the bow he made and when it was m-my turn, I broke it. It was an accident, but dad got mad and yelled at me.” As he tells you what happened, he sniffles in between every few words, his chest rises from trying to stifle his tears, and by looking at how his tail is tightly curled behind his body, you could tell what happened between him and his father frightened him.

You immediately pull him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around his body so you could soothe him, wanting to make him feel safe and comfortable. “Mawey, it’s okay, Lo’ak. I know you didn’t mean to break it and your father does too, he just… gets angry sometimes.” You rub his back, letting his head rest on your shoulder so he could relax. While continuing to calm Lo’ak down, you see Jake sitting at the wooden table working on something that’s related to his duties. Clearly he could see how upset Lo’ak was and he just sat there as if nothing was happening.

Watching Lo’ak come to you with tears in his eyes and viewing Jake treat Lo’ak roughly made an anger that’s been building up for years beg to be released. You’ve been wanting to give Jake a piece of your mind for a long time and tonight you’re finally pissed enough to make your feelings known. “Go in your room and wait for me. I’ll come in a little bit okay?” Lo’ak nods his head in response and before he turns to walk away, you kiss his forehead and let him know that you love him.

Seeing you send Lo’ak to bed made Neytiri follow suit, deciding to walk Neteyam and Kiri into their sleeping area, giving you the perfect opportunity to talk to your so called husband. “Jake, I need to talk to you.”

The man wasn’t in any mood to converse, especially when he’s in the middle of creating new trade strategies, so when he hears your statement he grumbles under his breath before deciding to respond, barely giving you a sliver of his attention. “What?”

“I’ve tried to stick this marriage out for as long as I can, but I can’t do it anymore. I want out of this, Jake.”

When the sentence falls into the air, Jake’s face scrunches up and his eyebrows raise. He doesn’t like a thing you just said, so when it finally registers in his mind, he abruptly stops what he was doing and walks over to you. “Leave? You’re not leaving this marriage, we are mated for life!” He growls, towering over your frame that was smaller compared to his. He wasn’t going to let you leave because if you left, the clan would look at him as insufficient, not being good enough to keep his mate and he wasn’t going to let you ruin his reputation.

“Why not? You and Neytiri don’t even show me any attention anymore, you both act as if I mean nothing! You do everything together and nothing with me and I’m not going to stay in a dead marriage!” You shout at him, causing Neytiri to come out and see what was going on. “And I don’t appreciate how you treat Lo’ak, I’m not going to keep letting you be mean and rude towards our child!”

“Mean?” He scoffs as if you offended him by your remark, his tail begins to thrash behind him as he bares his teeth. “You’re lucky I even got you pregnant! If I wasn’t drunk that night you wouldn’t even have him!” At this particular time in your marriage Jake had recently started falling out of love with you, the only way he could stomach having sex with you —when it was happening— was drinking a few cups of fermented fruit beforehand and on the night of conception there was a clan celebration so he indulged in hefty amounts of alcohol. “I didn’t even want a child with you, I just fucked up one night.” Jake doesn’t have any empathy for how his actions affected you, past or present. His face holds zero emotion and in his twisted mind, he doesn’t see anything wrong with his actions.

When his confession resonates, it finally clicks. The reason he treats Lo’ak like shit is because he didn’t even want him. Knowing that the man you loved didn’t want to create a child with you like you always thought he did makes your chest tighten with feelings of anger. Not only does that piss you off, but the fact that he happily gave Neytiri two children makes your head spin. “You bastard, I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” The volume of your voice raises as you place your hand on Jake’s chest, shoving him to try and release some of the raging aggression that was coursing through your body.

Before you can speak another word or angrily put your hands on Jake again, Neytiri stands in front of you, putting space between you and Jake. “Don’t touch him!” She hisses, now placing her hands on your chest, giving you a subtle threat. You’re taken aback at Neytiri being fierce toward you, not understanding why she’s upset with you and not with Jake. By her not reacting, it only means one thing: she knew about what he had done.

“Did you know Jake felt that way? Were both of you in fuckin’ cahoots or something?!” You hiss back at her and show your fangs, giving her the same energy she’s emitting. You can’t believe she would do something like this, you could see Jake doing something like this, but Neytiri being a co-conspirator makes everything hurt ten times worse.

While you’re spewing insults at Neytiri, Jake’s blood starts boiling. He has already been fed up with you, but now since you are going at Neytiri, he decides that he’s finally sick of you and your ‘dramatics’ as he calls them. He places himself in front of you and grabs your chin, pressing his fingers into your skin, tilting your head upward so you could look him in the eye. “I’m gonna say this one time and it’ll be my last. You are not leaving this marriage, you will stay in this house, and take care of your son.” His callous fingers are digging into your skin, making your skin crawl with fear, worried about what he might do next.

“And don’t you ever talk back to me, I’m your Olo’eyktan and you will show me some damn respect!” He speaks through gritted teeth, and his eyes fill with a mix of disgust and aggression. The more he talks, the more he squeezes your face, making your lips pucker out. “You got that?” You nod your head as much as you could, not wanting to be defiant because you’re scared he might hit you like he’s done in the past. When Jake lets his anger get the best of him or he comes home from drinking with the warriors, he would take his frustrations out on you, always leaving you with a bruise or two and sometimes worse depending on his mood.

When he’s satisfied with your response he roughly releases you, pushing you against the wall of the marui. He doesn’t say another word, he just walks to another part of the marui with Neytiri trailing behind him. When they walk out of your line of sight, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, followed by silent sobs. You don’t know how you got into this situation, trapped in a loveless relationship and feeling confined in the walls of your own home, but you were going to get yourself out of it by any means necessary.

As your warm tears continue to flow, creating liquid stains on your bra top, you hear the sound of a privacy curtain open. “Mama, Are you okay?” When Lo’ak’s voice rings through your ears, you hurriedly wipe your tears and force a happy expression on your face, not wanting him to see you in a saddened and distraught state.

You look up and see him peeking his head out the makeshift doorway which makes you chuckle at how cute he looks. “Yes, I’m fine, ‘itan. Come here.” You beckon and he comes walking toward you and sits on your lap. “How about I let you stay up a little longer tonight and I take you to play in the pond like I promised?” You ask while lightly poking his stomach, making Lo’ak erupt with giggles.

“Yayyy!” He stands up excitedly, grabbing your hand and pulling your arm so you can stand up. You stand up and you begin to walk with him to the nearby pond that’s a few feet away from the marui. Once you get close enough, Lo’ak unravels his hand from yours and runs into the pond at full speed, splashing around in the water as his eyes filled with amazement as the bioluminescent fish swim around his feet. Seeing the smile etched on his face helps you make one of the toughest decisions you’ve ever made. You know it will be difficult, but it needs to be done, before matters escalate into something you can’t control.

—

After that night with Jake, you started being more submissive than usual, doing anything and everything Neytiri and Jake ask while you waited for the argument to blow over. It took lots of self control and restraint to bite your tongue and not say anything to them but you kept your eyes on the prize.

It’s now a few weeks later and they’ve completely forgotten about the whole argument, which means it’s the perfect time for you to take Lo’ak and leave the forest. You’re sitting in the center of the marui, finishing up a newly woven blanket for Tuk while allowing the paste to dry on the handcrafted necklaces you made for Neteyam, Kiri, and Spider. When you finish the last stitch you hold up the blanket, admiring how nice the pattern came out. While looking at the blanket your eyes wander to the child sized jewelry on the floor next to you, making a saddened sigh leave your lips at the thought of these physical items will be how each of them will remember you. These pieces you made are special, the last gift the four of them will receive from you before you leave. You want to say goodbye to them in person, but you know that if you see their sad faces and tear filled eyes, you won’t be able to leave. All of them see you as their mother and you treat them as if they’re your biological children because that’s how much they mean to you.

You gather the gifts and place them on the wooden table along with two letters, one for the kids and one for Jake and Neytiri. The letter for the children contains heartfelt messages, telling them how much you love them and how you know that one day Eywa will guide them to wherever you decide to make you and Lo’ak’s new home. The letter to your now ex-mates is the complete opposite. You tell them how you’re tired of being treated like you hold no value, like the scum of the planet. All the built up emotions you felt over the years: invalidated, ignored, forgotten, and every negative emotion they made you feel you poured into your writing, wanting them to know how much pain and suffering they’ve caused you. You ended the letter with telling them that they can now have a happy live together with just the two of them because you’re done with them.

Looking at each object on the table makes everything feel more real, you were finally breaking yourself free from the restraints of Jake and Neytiri. You’re scared you might not be making the right decision, scared that everything wouldn’t be greener on the other side if you leave. You don’t know where Lo’ak and you are going to live yet, but you’re planning on flying in whatever direction the wind takes you.

As you notice the sun hiding behind the horizon you start packing essentials for the journey along with different keepsakes to remind you of your time with the Omatikaya. You pack quickly, wanting to leave before Jake and Neytiri come back home with Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk. “Lo’ come on! We have to go!” You explained to Lo’ak yesterday that you both are going to leave and at first, he was sad, he didn’t want to leave his siblings, grandmother, or Spider, but when you explained that it would be better for you both to leave, he was able to understand in the best way a seven-year old could.

When you hear movement, you assume it’s Lo’ak, so you turn around but your eyes land on Mo’at which makes you nervous. You know she’s already witnessed you packing your things, so you stand up, trying to come up with an excuse, but before you speak, she puts her hand up, stopping you from conjuring up a lie. “I already know.” A few days ago she was given a vision from Eywa that you were leaving and Mo’at was here to settle your mind and tell you where you should make your new home.

“Mo’at, I don’t want to leave but I have to. I can’t handle the mistreatment and suffering anymore and I don’t want that to trickle down to Lo’ak.” As you continue explaining the reason behind your decision Mo’at nods with soft eyes, understanding why you feel compelled to leave. There have been multiple instances where you came to Mo’at’s marui in the middle of the night, riddled with bruises and fresh tears running down your face from a heated argument that turned physical with Jake and Neytiri. She hates that you had to endure their cruel treatment when you’re nothing but a good mate to them, so she is glad that you are finally leaving, even though she would miss you and Lo’ak.

“I understand, ‘ite, I will help you leave if that is what you wish.” Mo’at places her hand on your shoulder, taking in your presence since she knows that this will be the last time she’ll see you for a long time.

“I don’t know where me and Lo’ak should go. I want to leave in a few hours before everyone comes home, but I don’t know where to go. Pandora is so vast and I want to go somewhere that would be far away.”

“I know the perfect place for you to go. The Metkayina are Reef Na’vi and live in the Eastern Seas. If you travel beyond the sea you will find them and they will allow you to seek uturu among them. The journey will be long so I will help you prepare.” Mo’at begins to help you pack as she goes into detail about the people you will meet, what you will see, and most of all what to expect when you and Lo’ak arrive at Awa'atlu.

—

After saying your goodbyes to Mo’at, exchanging words and hugs filled with love, you and Lo’ak make your way to the large tree where your ikran resides. “Hello, Hufwe.” You smile softly as you pet the creature, letting it rub its head against your skin. Once your ikran calms itself, you begin to strap your belongings along its back. “We must leave the forest and go far away.” You make Tsaheylu, connecting your queues and letting your ikran feel your emotions, hoping by making the connection, it would feel your sense of urgency about leaving.

Hufwe’s wings began to gain momentum and flap slowly, preparing itself for the journey ahead. You pick Lo’ak up and place him on the ikran’s back before jumping up and sitting behind him. Once you and Lo’ak were in a comfortable position you wrap a blanket around your bodies so you don’t get cold while flying. “Let’s go, Hufwe.” You pat the side of her neck, urging her to spread her wings and fly off into the almost nightly sky. In a blink of an eye you realize that you were soaring high in the clouds, so high that you could see the Hallelujah mountains, the place you used to reside in with your mates.

As you watch the forest grow smaller and smaller you could feel tears begin to blur your vision. You hate to leave the forest, but you know that this move is what you need to keep you and your son safe from the evils of Jake and Neytiri. Knowing that you could start a new life, have a fresh start, and give Lo’ak a better quality of life are the most important things to you right now and it makes uprooting your life worth it. Now things can get better, since you’re free from Jake and Neytiri, and maybe you'll have the chance to find someone better.

Next — Chapter Two

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[thelov3lybookworm]

Don't Tease Me

Summary: She never closes her side of the bond. Then why now?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 722

Warnings: a tinyyy tiny bit of angst, like TINYYYY. like its just rhysie being a scared lil munchkin. fluffy at the end, and also its smol.

A/n: based on this request by my most fav anon ever cus like YOURE AMAZING YOU KNOW THAT??? THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK POOKIE ILY SJHASFJHDFJDHA

but no seriously, this was so sweet to receive and im glad you chose me to write this. im sorry this is a bit small, but i hope you like it nonetheless 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Closing off the bond while in a meeting was almost a routine for Rhysand, one he had discussed at length with his mate before.

He knew that there was a chance he’d get mad at these meetings, especially if these meetings were in hewn city and did not want her to worry. She was a sweetheart and would worry about every little thing. Rhysand did not want her to stress herself.

But they had never, not once, talked about her closing her side of the bond.

Since the two had accepted the bond and felt the other’s soul on the other end of that sacred thread, Y/n had refused to close off the bond, telling him it made her feel happy knowing he was hers and it was fated by higher powers. That they had ended together, that they were happy.

So when Rhysand walked out of the meeting room in hewn city- desperately controlling the urge to sneer at Keir’s back like a petulant child- and opened his side of the bond again, the lack of warmth from his mate’s side was enough to cool off all the blood in his body.

"Cassian, Y/n has closed the bond. I can’t feel her." Rhysand turned to Cassian, his throat closing up.

Cassian only raised a brow. "So?"

Rhysand’s mouth dropped open. "What do you mean so? She never does that!"

Cassian only clapped him on the shoulder. "It’s nothing, I’m sure of it. By the way, do you think I could take a female home? Last time I’d seen one who was very hot-"

But Rhysand was already travelling through the wards and out into the open skies, wondering how Cassian thought the well being of Rhysand’s mate was less important than which females to bed at hewn city.

Rhysand could have sworn he’d never flown so quickly before, winnowing as much as he could and flying in between.

He was so sure he was going to lose his mind.

He arrived at the town house, but after at least calling for his mate five times and a quick, thorough search of the house, he realised that she was not there.

Maybe the house of wind?

But Ann could not fly, only being a quarter illyrian. And she was not going to take the stairs. She would always tell Rhys it was too dramatic, the amount of stairs.

What if someone took her? Faebane? No no no.

The thought only made him travel faster, and soon he was landing on the front porch of the small, quaint house his mate had insisted on buying near the woods.

She better be here, or I’m going to tear apart Prythian searching for her.

He pushed open the door with more force than necessary, making even himself jump. But the sight of Y/n starting as she whipped around to look at Rhysand with wide, disbelieving eyes made him forget everything.

All he could think of was how much he adored this female.

"Rhys? What is going on?" The sweet notes of his mate’s voice reached out to Rhysand’s ears, wrapping around him like the gentle caress of spring as she drew closer.

Rhysand shook his head, unable to form words as he stared at her, swallowing.

Her brows furrowed when he didn’t answer. "Rhys? Is something wrong?"

Rhys swallowed again, dragging a hand down his face before reaching out to grab her arms. He pulled her in closer, his eyes boring into hers. "Why is your side of the bond closed, darling?"

Y/n sighed. "I was baking, but I accidentally burned the cookies. I didn’t want you to feel my frustration." She searched his eyes. "Did something happen?"

Rhys sighed, thinking about how he’d gone into a frenzy. "No, I was just worried about you."

Y/n smiled. "Aww, I’m touched!"

Rhys grinned, feeling his heart settle back into position from where it had climbed up his throat. Y/n settled against his chest, and he sighed, finally feeling calm again as he leaned down and nipped at her ear. "Stop teasing me."

Y/n squealed, trying to back off. But Rhysand did not let her, wrapping his arms tightly around her thighs and throwing her over his shoulders.

"I wasn’t teasing!" She yelled as she squirmed.

"Sure you weren’t, sweetheart."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

permanent taglist: @berryzxx @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

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[gay-dorito-dust]

my WiFi was really shit when i sent in the request . just wanted to ask if you got it !! ^-^ sorry if this seems nagging .. m not meaning for it to

—> request was the x viktor comfort fic w an alternate ending to the series finale

(—@mister-ancunin)

Tumblr glitched on me multiple times yesterday (why, no clue) and i don’t know what it did with the request, but I remember seeing enough to remember what the request was before the request was taken, if that makes sense. So I might as well do it here while I can still remember it for compensation and hope you’d like it. (This was way too long and drawn out so I’m sorry about that)

The ash and dust has subsided as an uneasy quiet befell Piltover or rather what’s left of Piltover from the brutal conflict with Ambessa and the Noxian army. There was rubble and ruin everywhere you looked as building structures reduced to its foundations or heavily damaged, blood stained the pavement underfoot as you gingerly walked amongst the corpses of the people you’ve fought alongside with amidst the white and gold metallic corpses of what once was Viktor’s commune.

While you were happy that the fighting was over, that happiness almost felt misplaced or inappropriate in this moment and time as it seemed as though Piltover was silently mourning the people who fought valiantly. You couldn’t help but close the eyes of those that you passed by, wishing them eternal rest and peace now that their pain and suffering has long passed, letting them know their efforts were not lost on anyone at all. You all came together as a united front against a common enemy and fought like it was going to be your last time alive, and you saw a lot of people that you’ve known for a while fight like hell and you couldn’t be prouder of them.

‘You fought well.’ You said softly as you closed the eyes of what felt like the hundredth fallen soldier you’ve come across, unable to think of anything but their family and friends who are going to be looking for them. ‘It’s time to rest now.’ You add as you got up from kneeling, wincing as you as you were reminded of your own injuries which consisted of a gash on your upper arm and an even bigger gash spanning from your left shoulder to the middle of your back, amongst many other minor injures that stung when the breeze past them.

‘Fuck.’ You hissed as you waited out the throbbing pain with clenched teeth before moving on ahead. Where you were heading you weren’t quite sure. You were just wandering the battlefield with only your breathing, footfalls were the only thing you could hear that you thought with all the metal clashing, the screaming, the gunshots and the war cries that filled the air had finally made you deaf. However as you wandered the ruins of a once pristine city, your thoughts brought you back to Viktor and your soul ached, soured. You had lost him more times then you could count and even now you couldn’t help but morbidly think of whether you’d find his corpse amongst the others, but another part of you was wishing that you’d find him alive in whatever form he decided to take you prayed that he was alive nonetheless…even if he was the reason for all of this.

You could vaguely remember your last interaction with Viktor. While he looked like himself, he didn’t act it despite the softness of his sweet voice didn’t chance but one look into his amber eyes and you could tell that something was off, your sweetheart was lost, adrift somewhere and you couldn’t help him. You remember cupping his face in your hands, looking him over as though it was the last time you’d ever see him, and you wanted to engrave each one of his beautiful features into your mind in hopes that you’d see him even in your sleep. You called out his name for you could realise him even from behind, happy to see him breathing and without hesitation you hugged him when you saw him look back at you with recognition, holding him tight as you felt the cool metal of his new form press into you bitingly through the soft robe he wore.

You should’ve know that happiness wouldn’t last with what came after when Viktor touched your hands, seeing something within your mind that you couldn’t comprehend just yet but you knew nothing good came of it and nothing did, after all wars were started for far less but still you felt the sting and pain of your aching body as you found yourself unable to keep walking and sat against the wall and look up to the sky. Hoping. Hoping that after this everything will improve so that this can never happen again but that was wishful thinking and you knew that as you chuckled, too tired to carry yourself to where everyone else was.

You were too exhausted to care about the sting of your wounds nor the sound of someone approaching you from afar as you thought about closing your burning eyes for a small reprieve. It was the least you deserved and what you were going to rewards yourself with, until you saw a towering figure of dark purple and gold weaved together gliding through the rubble and dust like an angle of death. You thought about holding your breath, making it think that you were just another corpse amongst the millions of others but then there was that familiar warmth that flooded through you, you knew who this was before you even speak his name and before you knew it you were stumbling to get on your feet.

‘Viktor?’ You asked softly, far too softly for anyone to hear you but with the deafening silence that hung like a thick smog, threatening to choke you out, you would’ve be surprised if even the smallest of whispers sounded like angered, thunderous shouts of raw emotion. ‘Viktor is that you?’ You asked again, this time a little louder as you weakly hobbled towards the being of metal covered by what remained of his robe. ‘Please tell me it’s you in there and I’m not being greeted by the grim reaper right now.’ You chuckled while holding back a whimper, not wanting to show your true emotions if this being ended up not being your beloved Viktor.

The closer the being got the taller he looked, roughly six foot maybe, you couldn’t estimate to save your life but he towered over you easily as the soft clicking of his cane against pavement. Which was something you’ve always noticed with Viktor was how he didn’t drive his cane into the ground, but more or less love tapped it as though he was being considerate of the pavements feelings in comparison to others who’d stomp their feet gracelessly. You could tell Viktor was still there from his mannerisms and the way he held himself but still you couldn’t allow yourself to faster now, not when you were in a weakened state, while he on the other hand looked unscathed and untouched as though the ash and dust refused to touch any part of him out of fear.

‘You were never good at concealing your emotions my dear.’ The familiar voice croaked, heavily distorted but you could hear him -your Viktor- and could clearly see him smiling after having easily read you like you were his favourite book. ‘Always hiding behind another emotion to keep yourself from harm or from worrying others about you. However I always saw through it each time and this time is no different, you’re hurt my muse.’ He adds as he gotten closer to you, looking down at you though his new eyes that glowed warmly like the way his amber eyes did whenever they look at you, so knowing and understanding of your character.

‘Viktor…you’re okay.’ You finally let the flood gates open as tears streaked down your cheeks, letting the worry that have almost driven you mad and close to an early grave once or twice during the raging conflict for Plitover, the fear that threatened to consume you along with the pain of knowing that you had quite possibly lost him once again. ‘I was worried sick about you but I’m glad that you okay! We’re both okay.’ You continued as you managed to get close enough to Viktor where you could hug his new form with effortless ease, the cool metallic skin bite your softer, warmer skin deliciously as you rested your head against what you could assume was his chest and drinking him in. ‘I thought it was going to loose you again.’ You cried.

‘After everything I’ve done,’ Viktor began, confused as to how you could still look at him the way you did, as if he didn’t threaten lives of countless in pursuit for perfection. ‘Everything I’ve done to you, to everyone and yet you still find it within yourself to love and care for me to cry over my whereabouts. You truly allude me my love.’ He finishes as he could only watch at you clung to him as though he was going to disappear from your grasp. ‘I knew you’d come back to me sooner or later, so why should I give up hope like everybody else had on you! I know you Viktor and I know you were stronger then to let this obsession with perfection get to you,’ you replied, squeezing your eyes tightly as though praying to a higher being to not let this be a dream of your own creation and to give you a sign that this was real, which came to you in the form of Viktor finally reciprocating the hug.

The touch was tender, calculated and precise but that didn’t stop the tears from falling from your eyes as you breathed a sigh of relief that this was true, that your Viktor had come back to find his way back to you. Even despite if it was at the end of the brutal conflict that ravaged the city but that didn’t matter for as long as he had rediscovered himself you’d be okay. ‘And while the need for perfection did consume you for a while I didn’t stop believing that you’d realise that you were the beauty that you’ve been chasing all along.’ You continued as the weariness and aching sensations wracked your body beyond belief, that and being in Viktor’s arms made you feel comforted and safe that you could easily see yourself sleeping in his cool metallic arms in the foreseeable future.

‘Your unwavering faith you have in me is commendable my love, what I would do without it I do not know nor want to know.’ Viktor says softly as he takes note of your injuries and their severity, wondering where and who they’d come from Noxian soldiers or creatures of his own creation and made sure that his touch went nowhere near the afflicted areas, as though he was afraid he irritate them. ‘Sometimes I don’t believe I’m worth it, worth something as valuable as unwavering faith and persisting belief. However your a stubborn soul that didn’t stop believing in me, even when I became…this.’ He gestures to his form of cold, biting metal but you couldn’t help by look at his softly as you kissed his chest and nuzzling back against it eagerly.

‘You’re still my Viktor regardless of how you look, no matter how much you change you’ll always be my Viktor and have to keep my faith above my worry that you’ll come back to me…you always do and I’m glad because I don’t know what I’d…what I’d..’ you trailed off as unsettlingly dark thoughts overcame you as your breath hitched in your chest and your throat tightened while a fresh wave of tears streaked down your drying cheeks. ‘I don’t want to think about right now, just please let me stay like this…please Viktor.’ You whimpered.

‘Stay however you like my love, but we will have to get your injuries cleaned and patched up, I fear for potential injection in these conditions.’ Viktor tells you softly as he continues to holds you against him for your comfort, standing tall like a protective pillar in a wasteland of death while keep you upright in your moment of weakness, and while his form has changed significantly and he’ll most certainly have to answer for his mistakes, but he’ll stand here and keep being your strength when you’ve lost it all just like you’ve been a source of strength to him for a long time. He guesses he could stay for a while longer with a new look on life, to keep you safe and to try and find the beauty and perfection in a life filled with flaws and mistakes with you by his side.

[catmiemy]

Not All Change Is Bad (Lia Wälti x Reader)

Summary: Now that you know Lia has feelings for you, you have to figure out where to go from there.

The next morning you woke up exhausted, only having managed to fall asleep for a few minutes at a time. You were weirdly relieved when you checked your phone and it was finally an acceptable time to get up.

A/N: Thanks to the long weekend I actually finished this second part already. You can find the first part here.

This got a bit longer than I thought and I didn't even include most of the fluff at the end that I already planned out. So potentially there could be a third part focused more on happiness with a bit of angst. Let me know if you'd liked to read that. :)

Nadine was still sleeping soundly, so you didn’t have to deal with her seeing the mess you were. You headed straight to the bathroom, annoyed with yourself when you saw how horrible you looked in the mirror. There were dark bags underneath your red eyes, spots all over your cheeks from rubbing away all the tears and your hair resembled a bird’s nest from all the tossing and turning you had done.

You quickly went to work to make yourself more presentable. The last thing you wanted was for Lia to feel guilty when she saw you. You would be damned if you made this any harder for her than it had to be, and if the only thing you could do was pretend you were okay you would do that.

In your noble quest you completely forgot to take into consideration that to Lia’s eyes it would seem like this whole situation hadn’t affected you at all. She almost burst into tears when she saw how put together you looked, the only thing saving her from it, was Ana pointing out all the signs that you were actually not fine that were right underneath the surface of your carefully crafted façade.

The whole camp felt like torture to you and more than once you wished it was finally over. But every time you did you remembered that at Arsenal you would still see Lia, who could barely look into your direction anymore and darted away whenever you were anywhere close to her, almost every day. And back home Jessica was waiting for you.

Your girlfriend and you still hadn’t talked or even texted, which wasn’t too uncommon on Jessica’s part after an argument. Her go to reaction was to completely ignore you, while you usually did everything to get your girlfriend to forgive you, sending long, heartfelt texts, buying her small gifts, apologizing over and over again. You had never questioned if this was okay or healthy, and you didn’t really question it now, you just didn’t have the energy to do it, so you didn’t.

Every once in a while you remembered how you had completely ignored her call after you had asked to talk that night and were hit by a pang of guilt. You should reach out to your girlfriend. And you also should talk to Lia, make things easier for her. You should be fine with all of this, you should communicate more and better, you shouldn’t let this distract you from football, you shouldn’t feel like hiding away for the rest of your life.

As the days passed you became increasingly frustrated with yourself and your inability to do any of the things you should do. The only thing you managed to do halfway decently was keep up appearances well enough. Sure, many of your teammates checked in with you, but they accepted your forced smile and your fake cheerfulness as you assured them that you were totally fine.

Ana was a different story. She tried to push a bit harder, but every time she did, you sent her right back to Lia. “Please just make sure she’s alright, yeah? I’m totally fine, don’t worry about me.”

This did nothing to stop your friend from worrying, nonetheless she always listened to your request, well aware that the only person you really felt comfortable opening up to was Lia. Therefore Ana could only hope that as time passed the two of you managed to find your way back to each other again, maybe even as more than best friends. She still held out hope that you actually returned Lia’s feelings and just needed a little longer to figure that out.

As much as you had often wished camp was over when it actually was and you were boarding the plane to take you back to London, you desperately wanted to stay. Going back home meant you could no longer ignore the whole situation with Jessica and how horrible you’d been acting. It took every ounce of your willpower to force your feet to take you into the plane.

Another thing you dreaded was spending the flight next to Lia, although a small part of you also clung to some hope that the forced proximity would do you good, give you a chance to talk. However as you found your seat all that hope was ripped from you, in the seat that should have been Lia’s sat Noelle, smiling at you sympathetically.

All you could do to avoid breaking down right then and there was to sink down in your seat and blast music into your ears. Thankfully Noelle got the hint and left you alone.

Throughout the flight you did your best to keep your mind occupied with doing at least three things simultaneously. Nevertheless, the closer you got to landing the more your anxiety spiked. Poor Noelle was probably getting annoyed by your constant leg bouncing and fidgeting. Not that the gentle woman would ever say anything.

At the airport when you were slowly heading to the exit to catch a cab back to your apartment you were suddenly stopped by Lia’s voice, “Y/N, wait!”

With a racing heart you stopped in your tracks, turning to face your best friend. Although were you even allowed to call her that anymore?

Lia approached you with a worried face, picking at her cuticles, a clear indication to you that she was nervous. This hurt; you never wanted to get to a place where she was nervous to talk to you.

“I know things are weird between us right now and I really want to move past it, I just don’t know how yet. But…I still wanted to check in. Are you okay to go home? I know you left things with Jessica in a weird place and you looked almost scared on the plane and no matter where we stand I’m still always here for you,” Lia rushed out.

Your heart cracked and all the tears you had held back on this day so far gathered in your eyes, blurring your vision. How very Lia of her to still worry about you and ignore her own emotions and insecurities to make sure you were okay when you were the reason she was so miserable. 

You shook your head and blinked harshly to chase away the tears, then you plastered a what you hoped to be reassuring smile on your face.

“That’s very sweet of you, but please don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine, and after all these years I know how to deal with Jessica.”

Pain flashed in Lia’s eyes and you kicked yourself for bringing up how long you had been with your girlfriend. Way to hurt her more!

She smiled back at you and you could only hope that your smile had been more convincing than hers. “Okay, but never forget that I’m still always here for you.”

And with a goodbye Lia walked away from you, leaving you with an aching heart. Now that you had spoken with her again, it was even more painful to go back to this weird place of not talking. You wanted to run after her, share a ride like you normally did, and maybe hide out at her apartment for the rest of your life so you never had to deal with Jessica.

In front of the door to the apartment Jessica and you shared you took a moment to hype yourself up. You could do this, you had done this about a million times. Maybe it had never been this bad, but you would just have to grovel a little more.

You entered the apartment, calling out to your girlfriend. Just as you expected you didn’t get a response. Maybe she wasn’t home! Even if that would only postpone the argument for a little while, you still wanted it to be true.

Sadly you were out of luck. You quickly found Jessica sitting on the couch, staring at her phone and completely ignoring your presence.

“Hi,” you greeted her awkwardly, your girlfriend still not showing any signs of having noticed you. “Look I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone and haven’t reached out since. This camp has been absolutely crazy.”

It was a weak explanation, and definitely not enough to get Jessica to acknowledge you again. To even have any hope of getting there you would need to apologize and beg. However when you were searching for the right words, you realized that you didn’t want to do it this time. You were tired of these same old patterns that always left you feeling like you weren’t good enough.

You weren’t someone that got mad often, but now you could feel all the suppressed feelings inside of you rapidly turning into anger.

“Can you just cut this crap out and talk to me like an equal human being?” You snapped at Jessica.

At least you succeeded in getting a reaction. She dropped her phone, turning to you, the surprise on her face quickly morphing into anger just as intense as your own.

“Excuse me?! Who has been ignoring me for the last ten days after not picking up the phone when it was you who suggested we talk that night? I think I have every right to be angry,” Jessica yelled back at you.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t be angry, but acting as if I’m air is just plain childish! I said I was sorry and I also said that things have been crazy, but apparently you don’t care about that.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Okay then, what crazy thing happened that stopped you from contacting me at all? Did the monster under the bed steal your phone? Or did aliens project a force field around your camp, stopping all electronic devices from working?”

Her mocking only made you angrier, so without thinking about it if it was wise to reveal this to Jessica, you told her about learning of Lia’s feelings for you.

After that all hell broke loose, everything the two of you had kept inside for way too long spilling out in hurtful words, ending in a scream match that had neither of you even hearing what the other was saying anymore.

In the end it was you who said the fateful words, “I think it’s high time that we break up! Well it was probably high time years ago and we were just too stuck to notice.

“No, I don’t accept that! You don’t break up with me, I’m breaking up with you,” Jessica retorted.

By now most of the anger had drained from your body, you just shrugged your shoulders. “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

Once you were out of the apartment you just started walking; the entire palette of negative emotions fighting for the lead inside of you. Before too long you found yourself standing in front of Lia’s little house. Just the sight of the familiar building that had been your refuge so often in the past was enough to break down the emotional barriers you had carefully constructed over the last couple of weeks, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

Lia had said you could still come over if something happened. So despite feeling more than a little unsure about it, you walked up to the front door and knocked. You needed her right now and if she would send you away you didn’t know if you could deal with it.

Of course there was no reason to worry, Lia didn’t miss a bit, ushering you into her apartment and holding you tightly while you cried your eyes out. You weren’t coherent enough to explain what had happened, but from the bits and pieces you managed to get out, she got the gist of it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind was some immense guilt for making Lia take care of you after everything, however it was drowned out by how safe you felt in your best friend’s arms. You wanted to stay there for the rest of your life, blocking out the rest of the world.

After your crying session you were hit by a wave of extreme tiredness, your eyes fluttering shut every so often. Lia gently massaged the back of your scalp, knowing you were prone to tenseness there, and it was making you even sleepier.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” She offered.

.

You should refuse, you should pull yourself together and leave Lia be, maybe call Leah to come over and check up on her after you had once again dumped your emotions all over her. You should be a better person and do that, instead you mumbled, “Yeah, I’d like that very much.”

The two of you got ready for bed. Lia insisted on it, you would have happily stayed on the couch in your regular clothes without brushing your teeth if it meant you didn’t have to move. There wasn’t any need for using a spare toothbrush or borrowing some clothes from Lia, you had left this kind of stuff here ages ago. It was just easier this way with all the impromptu sleepovers you had.

The two of you lay down on your respective sides of the bed, facing each other like you usually did to exchange some whispered words before falling asleep. You were already half asleep, not alert enough to stop yourself from mumbling, “I really really missed you, Schätzi. So stupid of me not to realize I also have feelings for you.”

You drifted off to sleep immediately afterwards, completely missing the way Lia went rigid as she heard your words, an onslaught of different emotions hitting her. The hardest one to deal with was the renewed hope she had mostly buried long ago. For years she had dreamt of you telling her that you felt the same way, she had played out hundreds of different scenarios of how it might happen. And Lia thought it would make her the happiest person on the planet.

However now that you had said the words, she was just scared. Scared that you didn’t really mean it, scared that you were merely confused by the emotional rollercoaster you were going through, scared that you were only clinging to her because Lia was familiar and comforting.

When you woke up the next morning the bed next to you was empty. For one blissful nanosecond you thought this was just a normal sleepover until all the memories hit you with full force. Shame and guilt began eating at you for putting Lia in this position, not only had you shown up here and made her comfort you after your breakup, you had also blurted out that you too have feelings for her at the most inappropriate time possible.

Not that it wasn’t true. The realization had been simmering underneath the surface for a while, not something that you were ready to acknowledge yet, but now that you had, there was no doubt left in your mind. So that wasn’t the problem, the problem was that it absolutely been the wrong moment to say it.

With a rapidly beating heart you finally got out of bed, determined to find Lia and apologize. You found her in the kitchen, staring into her cup of coffee. She looked dead tired, almost slumping onto the table. This only made you feel even guiltier. No doubt had your careless words cost your best friend some sleep.

Despite everything Lia still offered you a weak smile and got up to get you a cup of coffee. You tried to protest, but she simply waved away your words. Lia never trusted you to make your own coffee; she knew you had a tendency to make it too strong which then in turn made you a little hyper. 

“I’m sorry,” you said at the same time as your best friend stated, “There are some things I need to say.”

You nodded, gesturing at Lia to continue talking; she deserved to go first and get everything she wanted off her chest.

The brunette took a deep breath and when she began talking it sounded rehearsed, making you wonder how early she had gotten up to prepare and practice this whole speech. “I thought about all this for a long time and as much as I want to be the one to support you through this breakup, I don’t think I can.”

“What you said yesterday before falling asleep…It was everything I’ve wanted to hear for the longest time, but I think it’s important that you take your time to figure things out and make sure that you actually mean it.”

You opened your mouth to assure Lia that you did, how could you not? But one pleading look from her was enough to shut you up. She wasn’t ready to hear it; nothing you could say would make Lia fully believe it.

“So let’s just take some time, yeah? This way you can work through your breakup and everything else,” the brunette concluded.

Once again you nodded, even if it wasn’t what you wanted at all. You totally understood Lia’s request for some time apart and you would give her as much as she needed. After all she had apparently been waiting for you for years, so this was the least you could do.

“I don’t want to kick you out, but I really believe this is what’s best for us in the long run. But I can help you call one of our teammates so you can stay with them if you don’t want to go home?” Lia offered.

She was clearly conflicted about this course of action, still worrying about you. Therefore you quickly shook your head, reassuring the midfielder that you were fine and already had a plan. “Please don’t worry about me,” you told Lia more than once.

However the fact that you got up after saying this and walked towards the front door still in your pajamas definitely didn’t help your case.

“You know you can get dressed and even take a shower first,” Lia said, trying to keep her voice light and joking, when in reality your confusion scared her. Would you really be okay?

After taking a swift shower you felt a little more like yourself and managed to convince Lia that you wouldn’t walk right into a disaster if she let you out of her sight.

Saying goodbye was awkward, both of you looking at each other, unsure what to do. You longed to hug your best friend, but you didn’t think that would be welcome right now, so you merely waved at Lia lamely and told her you would see her at training.

During your shower you had come up with a plan; you waited until you were sure Jessica would have left for work, then you went to the apartment and packed a bg. All of your teammates would have happily let you stay with them, but you didn’t feel comfortable going to any of them, so instead you headed to a nearby hotel.

The moment you closed the door of your hotel room behind you, you sank to the floor, breaking down completely. You had thought you had cried yourself all out last night, but apparently there was an inexhaustible fountain of fresh tears somewhere inside of you.

That’s how you spent the rest your day, crying in various places. At some point you moved from the door to the bed, staying there until you had to go to the bathroom, crying on the floor leaning against the bathtub for a good while.

It was a small mercy that you feel asleep pretty early, exhausted from all the crying and from beating yourself up mentally. You were so angry at yourself for how you had treated both Lia and Jessica, you should have been better!

The next morning you felt like you had a hangover, your head pounding. However at least you were in control of your waterworks again, so you were hopeful you wouldn’t start crying during training. After another shower and a quick breakfast you felt a little better, confident in your ability to pretend to be a normal human being for as long as you needed.

And that’s what you did, not only that day but also the following ones. You acted throughout the day like you were fine, when someone asked you how you were, you stated time and time again that you were fine, no matter how much anyone could see that you weren’t.

The biggest challenge to your composure were the sad looks Lia kept sending your way when she thought you didn’t notice. It hurt you on a visceral level that you were the reason she was so miserable. In reality that wasn’t why Lia continued to look at you like this, it wasn’t because you had made her unhappy, but because she hated to see you take so little care of yourself and quietly falling apart in front of her eyes.

Every day as soon as you could you would go home, declining every invite to hangout from your teammates, because as soon as you stumbled into your hotel room, the tears returned, and all you could do for the rest of the day, was lay in bed, cry and berate yourself.

How had you been so stupid and not noticed Lia’s feeling for you? Why were you so weak and pathetic and ran right to her side after your breakup when you knew this would only make it more difficult for her? Furthermore you also felt horrible for how you had left things with Jessica. Sure, your relationship hadn’t been good for a while, but she deserved more from you!

About a week later you were once again laying in your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling, hating on yourself when your phone rang. You planned to ignore it, like you had been doing for the most part lately, but it kept on ringing again and again. With a deep sigh you picked up without looking at the caller ID.

“Hello,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Y/N where the hell are you?!” Ana almost shouted.

Confused you started at the phone. “What?”

“Where are you?” Ana repeated a little slower, “I know you aren’t at home because the lovely Jessica told me as much and after doing some inquires I also know you aren’t with any of your teammates, so where are you?”

All of this could only mean one thing, Ana was in London and you really weren’t prepared to give up your plan of wallowing in misery to face her.

“I’m at a hotel. Happy? Now go and see Lia, I think she could use a friend,“ you replied, praying that this was enough to satisfy Ana.

You should have known that it wasn’t and you also should have known that your friend would figure out the only way to get you to tell her your location.

“You better tell me right now where you are or I’m calling Lia and tell her that you’re hiding out all alone in a hotel,” Ana threatened.

“Ugh fine,” you huffed angrily, letting her know what hotel you were staying at and your room number. Then you hung up the phone without as much as saying goodbye. If Ana was going to be like this, you sure as hell weren’t going to be polite.

You used the time you had until Ana’s arrival to make yourself look a little more presentable. It only worked semi-decently and the traces of your most recent breakdown were still very much visible on your face when you heard the dreaded knock.

“Oh Spatz,” Ana sighed when she laid eyes on you, guiding you carefully over to the bed and basically pulling you into her lap.

To your great annoyance the tears took this as an invitation to start falling again right away, and it took a good while for them to stop.

“Y/N what are you doing?” Ana asked you gently once you had calmed down.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m doing my best to give Lia the time she needs,” you explained.

Ana tilted her head to the side, studying you intently. “Time for what exactly?”

“To get over my stupid behavior, to figure out if she still wants to be with someone as horrible as me, to heal all the parts of her heart that I’ve hurt. Take your pick,” you replied, the anger for yourself making your voice harsh, almost hateful.

“Oh Spatz,” Ana said once again, reaching over to tuck a strand of her behind your ear. “You’re being way too hard on yourself, just because you didn’t handle everything perfectly and made some mistakes along the way doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person”

“And I can tell you that that’s not what Lia is thinking at all. She didn’t propose this time apart because she needs to figure things out. She knows exactly what she wants, she has known for years. You on the other hand just got out of very long term relationship. Lia wants you to take enough time to deal with that and process your feelings before you jump into something new. She’s waiting for you to be ready and at this rate you’re never going to be. You can’t just ignore everything, Y/N!”

It took a lot more reassuring on Ana’s part until you could even begin to believe her. Thankfully your friend was very patient and kept telling you the same things over and over again until a small seed of hope was planted inside of you.

She didn’t leave it at that though, Ana also helped you make a list of things you could do over the next few weeks to help you process everything. Journaling was on the top of the list, as ws eating regular meals and not spending too much time in bed. Furthermore you vowed to contact Jessica and figure out how to proceed with your shared apartment, and on Ana’s insistence you promised to talk to your teammates more and spend time with them instead of holing up by yourself all the time.

You actually followed this list meticulously, and made sure to give Ana regular updates. Especially once you got the sneaking suspicion that she in turn informed Lia how you were doing because the midfielder looked more and more relaxed every day. The first time she smiled at you again your heart skipped a beat and you felt like a lovesick teenager. Then slowly Lia stopped keeping her distance, you still didn’t talk just the two of you but being part of the same group conversation became a regular occurrence.

After about three weeks you gathered all your courage and decided to ask Lia if she wanted to have coffee. It was a weird feeling that something that used to be the most mundane thing ever made you want to jump out of your skin. Doubts were flying around your mind as you walked towards Lia. The big smile that appeared on her face as she saw you definitely helped to make you feel a little calmer.

“Do you want to get coffee?“ You blurted out, mentally face palming at your lack of eloquence.

Lia chuckled, finding exactly this awkwardness endearing. „Yeah, I’d love to,“ she replied to your relief.

After training you met up at a coffee shop you had gone to a million times in the past, but this time felt entirely different, you might as well have been on another planet.

Once the two of you had found some seats and ordered your beverages, Lia looked at you expectantly. You had this all planned out, but now your mind was completely blank and you couldn’t think of a single thing you wanted to say.

Dejected you buried your face in your hands. “Man I’m so bad at this. Sorry, Lia!” You moaned.

Lia gently tugged your finger away from your face, holding on a little longer than necessary. “This isn’t a test, Y/N, just start with why you asked me out for coffee and then we’ll go from there. I don’t expect a perfectly rehearsed speech.”

You did expect that from yourself though because you knew Lia would have been able to deliver one. Sadly you were once again a disappointment to yourself, so there was nothing else to do than follow Lia’s advice.

“I guess the main reason is that I missed you. So much that it’s sometimes difficult to breath and if there’s one thing I know for sure by now it’s that I can’t imagine a future that you’re not part of. I can’t believe how stupid I was not to realize that ages ago.”

At this Lia huffed unhappily, she didn’t like the way you put yourself down at all. Despite this she didn’t interject, she didn’t want to stop your flow of words, knowing how hard it would be for you to get back into the mindset of sharing so freely, even with her.

“So often I was happy to get out of the apartment Jessica and I shared to spend time with you. When something good happened or well I guess also something bad you were always the first person I wanted to share it with. Nothing makes me happier than to see you happy and when you smile at me my entire world lights up. I can’t believe that I didn’t realize that you’ve been more than my best friend for the longest time.”

“And I know three weeks probably doesn’t seem like enough time to get over such a long relationship, but the truth is I’ve been finished with that relationship for a long time, and I think so has Jessica. We just stayed together out of habit. And don’t get me wrong, there’s still some things I need to do, like have a long and honest conversation with her, but I really want you back in my life. I completely understand though if you’re not ready. That’s totally valid of course…”

You would have continued to ramble if Lia hadn’t stopped you by gently pressing a finger to your lips, her eyes shining with love and warmth.

“I think we’re ready for that too. Not start a relationship right away, I need more time before that and I think you do too, but just things like this. Spend time together, hang out, slowly figure out together how our new normal is going to look like. Does that sound okay?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” you responded.

Not too long ago you had lain in a hotel bed in Switzerland scared because things between you and Lia would never be the same again, now you were filled to the brim with happiness and hope because things would never be the same again. Just the thought of how your relationship with Lia was going to look like made you feel excited. It was everything you’d never dared to dream of.

[isak-dot-gov]

can you do a emily engstler x reader fluff were the reader and Emily act like a old married couple ( the reader and emily only been marry for a year ) when they go out to eat with emily teammates

can you also make it were the reader is short

Like an old married couple

Pairing: Emily Engstler x Reader

Word count: 1518

My masterlist :)

..............................................................

The restaurant was buzzing with the usual Saturday night energy. Emily's teammates had all gathered for a post-game dinner, filling the large table with laughter and conversation. You and Emily had only been married for a year, but to anyone watching, it seemed like you’d been together for decades.

You were perched on your chair, feet dangling a few inches off the floor due to your shorter height, while Emily sat beside you, her long legs stretched comfortably under the table. You reached for the menu, but Emily was already handing it to you, knowing that you liked to check the specials first.

"Here, love," she said with a gentle smile, placing the menu in your hands.

"Thanks, sweetheart," you replied, your tone soft and affectionate.

Emily’s teammates, sitting across from you, exchanged amused glances. They were used to the way you two interacted, like a couple that had long since settled into each other's rhythms. But they still found it endearing.

As you skimmed the menu, Emily leaned closer to peek over your shoulder. "I think you'd like the grilled salmon. It’s not too heavy, and you always love the way they season it here."

You nodded, trusting her judgement. "Yeah, that sounds perfect. And you’re getting the steak, right? You always do."

Emily chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You know me too well."

One of her teammates, Tori, smirked and leaned forward. "You guys really are like an old married couple. I mean, you've only been hitched for a year, but you act like it's been twenty."

You grinned, leaning into Emily’s side. "What can I say? We just fit."

Emily squeezed your shoulder, her voice teasing as she said, "Besides, it's not like I could let you go around ordering something you won’t like. You’d just end up stealing all of my fries."

You shot her a playful glare. "As if you don't love sharing them with me."

The table erupted in laughter, the banter flowing easily. Emily’s teammates teased you both relentlessly, but it was all in good fun. They admired the way you two interacted, the comfort and love that was so evident between you.

When the waiter came to take your orders, Emily didn’t hesitate to order for both of you, knowing exactly how you liked your food prepared. You didn’t even have to say a word, just nodding in agreement as she spoke.

After the waiter left, Emily turned back to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You okay? Not too tired, I hope."

You shook your head, smiling up at her. "Nope, I’m good. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy."

She kissed the top of your head, a simple gesture that made your heart swell. "Good. I want you to enjoy tonight."

As the evening went on, you and Emily continued to exchange little moments of affection—sharing bites of food, holding hands under the table, and occasionally leaning in to whisper something that would make the other laugh. Her teammates kept watching you both, some making playful comments, others just smiling at the way you two seemed so perfectly in sync.

At one point, you noticed one of her teammates struggling to decide what to order. Without missing a beat, you nudged Emily with your elbow, a knowing look on your face. Emily grinned, immediately catching on to your silent request.

"Hey, Aaliyah," Emily called out, "Y/N thinks you should try the chicken Alfredo. It’s her go-to when she’s feeling indecisive."

Aaliyah looked at you both with a raised eyebrow but smiled nonetheless. "You two really are in sync, huh?"

You shrugged, leaning against Emily as she draped an arm around your shoulders. "We just know each other well, I guess."

The food arrived, and as expected, Emily immediately offered you a bite of her steak, holding the fork out for you. You didn’t hesitate to lean forward and take the bite, savoring the flavor.

"Mmm, perfect as always," you said, licking your lips.

Emily chuckled, cutting another piece for herself. "You’re just saying that because it’s mine."

The playful banter continued throughout the meal, with Emily’s teammates throwing in their own comments and jokes about how you two were the epitome of relationship goals. It didn’t bother either of you; in fact, it only made you both feel more secure in what you had.

When the bill came, you reached for it out of habit, but Emily was quicker, already pulling out her wallet. "I've got it," she said firmly.

You pouted, crossing your arms. "I wanted to treat you this time."

Emily chuckled, handing the waiter her card. "Next time, darling. Tonight’s on me."

Her teammates watched this exchange with raised eyebrows, Tori speaking up again. "Seriously, you two are goals. I can’t even get my partner to text me back, and here you are fighting over who gets to pay."

You shrugged, leaning your head on Emily’s shoulder. "When you’ve found the right person, it just happens naturally."

Emily kissed your forehead, her eyes filled with warmth. "That’s right."

As the group started to gather their things to leave, Emily stood up and offered you her hand, helping you down from your chair. You smiled up at her, your height difference even more noticeable now that you were standing.

"You know, I could get used to this," you said, looping your arm through hers as you walked out of the restaurant.

Emily grinned, her voice playful. "You already have, my little love."

Her teammates walked behind you, still chuckling at the sight of you two. But all you could focus on was the warmth of Emily’s arm around you, the comfort of knowing that no matter how many years passed, you’d always have each other. Just like an old married couple—only better because this was just the beginning of your forever.

The drive home was quiet but comfortable, the city lights casting a warm glow inside the car. Emily’s hand rested on your thigh, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing small circles as she drove. You leaned your head against the window, a contented smile playing on your lips as you thought about the night.

"You know," you started, breaking the silence, "I really love nights like this."

Emily glanced over at you, her expression softening. "Me too. It’s nice to just relax and be with you without any distractions."

You nodded, feeling a surge of affection for her. "And your teammates are great. I love how they tease us, but you can tell they’re happy for us."

Emily smiled, her hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. "They are. They’ve seen how much happier I’ve been since we got together. You’ve been good for me, you know?"

You chuckled, reaching over to intertwine your fingers with hers. "You’re not so bad yourself, Engstler."

Emily’s laugh was warm and genuine, filling the car with a sense of peace. "Well, I’m glad you think so."

When you finally arrived home, you both moved through the familiar routine of kicking off your shoes, hanging up your coats, and heading into the living room. It was second nature at this point, the way you moved around each other with such ease, as if you’d been living together for years.

You collapsed onto the couch with a sigh, watching as Emily grabbed a couple of glasses and poured some water. She handed you one before sitting beside you, her arm naturally wrapping around your shoulders as you snuggled into her side.

"I’m really glad we did this tonight," you said, taking a sip of your water.

"Me too," Emily agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love spending time with you, even if it’s just something simple like going out to dinner."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We should do it more often. It’s nice to just be out with you, you know?"

Emily nodded, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. "Absolutely. But honestly, even just sitting here with you like this is perfect to me."

You tilted your head up to look at her, your heart swelling with affection. "You’re such a sap, you know that?"

Emily laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Only for you, my love."

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning up to press a soft kiss to her lips. "Good, because I plan on keeping you around for a long time."

Emily returned the kiss, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity as she replied, "You’re stuck with me, little one. For now and forever."

As you settled back into her embrace, you realised that it didn’t matter how many years you’d been together or how many more were to come. What mattered was that you had each other, and that was more than enough.

In the quiet of your home, wrapped up in Emily’s arms, you knew that this was the kind of love that people searched for their entire lives. And you had found it, right here, in the person who made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

.........................................

Isak speaks: Low-key surprised I wrote something this cute wtf