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randombush3 · 7 months

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audentes fortuna iuvat

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two

words: 9541

summary: alexia and you as posh + becks III

content warnings: there’s some (a lot of) cheating + postpartum depression. it’s more frustrating than sad though x

notes: this covers 2019-22(ish). It was SUPPOSED to be the last part. It’s not anymore. I’m gonna do a fourth to deal w the mess I have created in a more self-indulgent amount of words than the 3k i had planned. That will probably have smut in it 😛

“Y/n left me.”

The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you.

“What?” says Jenni.

“She left me,” Alexia says once more. The hotel room is a non-committal beige. They lie in the same bed, the older of the two welcoming her lost teammate wordlessly and without judgement. Tomorrow, they will return to Barcelona, losers yet another time. “She moved back to london. She took Nico.”

“She can’t just take Nico, can she?”

“Y/n, how’s Nico?” Your stomach turns, but whether that is provoked by the thought of the baby boy you left crying in your father’s arms or by the white powder outlining the rim of the woman’s nostrils, you don’t know.

Your son’s creasing eyes, red face, and grabbing hands appear in front of you. He screams as you walk away. He doesn’t understand why he has not smelt Alexia in weeks, and he misses the comfort of home.

Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”

“I think she is depressed,” Alexia tells Jenni, comforted by the arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and tightly and reminding her that she is not as alone as you have made her feel. “She told me that she couldn’t be in Barcelona anymore, but she said that without giving me a chance to come with her. Her bags were packed before the conversation started — she might as well have called me from the plane.”

“Are you angry at her?”

“Yes.”

Alexia thinks about it.

“No.”

“No,” you say when they point at your very own line. The drug holds a place of both familiarity and hatred in your heart. The fine, white powder reminds you of greatness – of being the most successful girl group in the UK – but, also, of hospital visits. It’s not a past addiction, but it could have been. You light a cigarette instead, though it will make the vehicle reek. “I can't. I have a son.”

“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.”

“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.”

“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.”

“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”

“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought.

With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.”

“He would be made for it. You are his mother.”

“I'm not angry at her,” Alexia says for the third time, just to make herself believe it. Just to carve those words into her bones and tell herself that it isn’t anger, what she’s feeling. “I don't want to be angry at her. I think I'm going to see if I can move to arsenal.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Well, I'm not angry at her.”

“Alexia.” Jenni cups her cheek tenderly. “Ale.” She knows she shouldn’t. She’s not angry at you, and so there is no punishment needed. Not that… Not that kissing Jenni would ever be utilised as a weapon to get back at you. Or that she’d actually kiss her.

“Daddy, I can't get him tonight. No, I don't want to stay over. Daddy, I…” You hate the baby. You hate yourself. You hate that Spain hasn’t done well, and that your fiancée is disappointed that nothing is how it was supposed to be. Alexia is probably lying awake in bed, missing her son, and missing you. You expect one of her teammates to call you soon, and tell her that she needs you. You’re her person. “I'm going to get some sleep and I'll pick him up tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime, okay?”

“Alexia, bésame.”

…

You had passively bought your house. It’s how property sale works when you’re a celebrity. People are always willing to do things for you if you know the price, and it never hurts to use your name to add a new flashy level to whatever stupid business they are running. It’s a mutual exploitation, to some extent.

Highgate is beautiful. The house is beautiful.

The reception room, with its high, decorated ceilings, is your favourite place to numbly take in the twisted jigsaw of your life when Nico has cried himself to sleep. The nursery is on the first floor. He is near enough for safety, but at a distance that allows you to regret all the mistakes you have made.

You watch him roll over onto his stomach, eyes trained on the baby monitor though your fingers graze the ivory keys of your new piano, attempting to compose something worthwhile. At this rate, your solo career is going to fail just like your relationship seems to be doing.

Yesterday, while Alexia seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth, you came out. It was an off-hand comment during the Graham Norton Show. A quick ‘my fiancée named him. She’s from Barcelona’ was all it took. You hope Alexia, wherever she may be, has heard about it. Jenni would have told her. You trust Jenni to be somewhat on your side because she always has been.

The doorbell rings just as you sniffle, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. “Don’t be pathetic,” you mutter to yourself. “You didn’t pay five million pounds to sit here and cry. You chose to come back home.”

Being in England – colder, drearier, lonelier England – has made you realise that your decision was not the right one. Or maybe it was. It has proven that you are as terrible a mother as you convinced yourself you were back in Barcelona, and it has also shoved the cavity Alexia leaves in your life when you refuse her entry right down your throat in the form of a constant lump and a dull stabbing in your chest whenever you think about anything past whether Nico has had anything to eat. You can’t even feed him properly, despite it being supposedly in your nature. You buy formula from the nearest Waitrose.

The doorbell rings again.

The insistence is not uncommon seeing as you are, at the minute, the English press’s number one target. You open the CCTV app on your phone so that you can decide whether or not to ignore the potential stalker, and your heart rate spikes when you see the hooded figure standing on the porch. Back to the door, it is not possible to determine the threat. A well-buried maternal instinct kicks in for once, and you ensure that Nico is still peacefully out cold before getting up to answer the door with the poker from the Victorian fireplace firmly in your grip. Just in case.

You are a mother, in whatever capacity you have decided that role looks like, and so you undo the three latches on the door with brave, protective fingers. The baby monitor’s volume has increased, and the fuzz of white noise is audible if Nico were to make a sound. The vague repulsion at the idea of it all is only an aftertaste in your silent prayer for the hooded figure to not want to kill you. Some sick part of your brain imagines Nico dead, as well. It tortures you.

The poker in your other hand, for the most fleeting of moments, is almost plunged into your chest. The imaginary, self-inflicted wound makes you think of the blood and how the baby upstairs would wail until someone found him. The grimace of annoyance on your lips is nothing new, but you have no more time to torment yourself because the doorbell is pressed again, rather impatiently.

You open the door and the hooded figure is right in front of you. “He’s asleep,” you say, the Spanish foreign on your tongue.

Alexia shrugs, and her hood falls down, revealing the brunette tendrils that hang from her slowly sinking bun. “I came for you,” she replies, so earnestly that it is as if nothing ever happened: past pain forgotten and replaced by sprouting memories of soft kisses and mornings where leaving was too hard to do. Some of them, you think, are not real. They don’t seem to be. Your blank stare is unsettling. You almost don’t believe her. “Can we talk?” she tries, and you notice the team-issued duffle on the tiled floor she is standing on. Then, from the pocket of her hoodie, she extracts a pastry box. The plastic window is filled with circles of different colours, and she holds out the macaroons to you as if to bribe her way into a home in which she is unsure she belongs to.

Stepping aside, leaning the poker against the wall by the door, you scratch at the bare skin of your neck. Alexia, while sweeping an arm down to collect her bag, fixes her gaze onto the ring you are wearing, and the diamond glistens with hope that this can all be fixed. “Would you like to come inside?”

She swallows the whine of anguish that tears her heart open at the idea that this might never be her house to live in, too, and she follows you dutifully as you lead her through hallways far more luxurious than the flat in Barcelona could ever be. This is what you left her for – the person you are, no longer in worn clothing with messy hair, is quite the opposite of the woman with her back to her moments before she had to focus on football. The necklace draped on your sharpened collarbones is new, and she does not dare believe what she has been hearing is true. Yes, there are pictures, but she trusts you. She will always trust you.

“Have a seat,” you say, gesturing to the wooden dining table. It is clean enough for her to determine that it is unused. Alexia places the macaroons in front of her, and aches at how you sit at the opposite end.

“I…”

“I thought you were going to give me all the time that I needed.” It is a statement of distance, as if your location is not enough.

Alexia, eyes widening at how unwelcome she suddenly feels, needs only to remind herself of the impending date of the wedding. It is beginning to loom uncomfortably, with the excitement of getting married drained out like a low tide on a deserted beach. “We have two weeks. If it isn’t going to happen, then you should tell me now. We have to give everyone notice so that they can cancel their flights.” Your silence spurs her on. “You will need to contact the wedding planner, because you refused to let me have a hand in any of it so I don’t even have their number. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to wear your dress. Vivienne Westwood is a big thing for you, I know. I’m sorry that it’s inconvenient.”

“But Alexia,” you whisper, “I don’t not want to get married.”

Her eyebrows furrow, head tilted slightly to the left. “I know. That is why I am saying this.”

Your voice grows louder. “No, no. Sorry, that wasn’t the easiest thing to understand.” Across the dining table, your love that has faltered, that has hesitated and been reconsidered and been stamped down over the past month, extends towards her: its final destination, always and forever. Alexia feels it grab her by the throat, wrenching the words from her before she can even formulate a thought in response, and her body is so drawn to you, in such a powerful fashion, that she pushes her chair out from the table with a grating scrape and is stepping towards you with a finality that makes her wonder if she’ll ever leave your side.

As she approaches, the idea that she is here becomes a little too real. You have played with the fantasy of it, of course, but the tenderness in her usually fierce eyes does not match the anger you had expected, and, in the most feeble fashion, you have never felt more apologetic in your life.

“I’m so sorry,” you begin to say. Tears stream down your face with freed anguish, and the words are so simple yet they bear the weight of your entire soul. “I’m so sorry, darling. I made a mistake, and I have been met with the most crushing of realisations: I can’t do this without you, Alexia.” I still want to marry you, Alexia.

The room seems to close in on your despair, attempting to bottle it, almost, and keep you trapped underneath a haze of emotions you don’t quite know how to sort through. “I… I’m beginning to hate him.” The confession hangs heavy over Alexia’s bowed head as she stands frozen in place, stuck in her journey towards you but unable to arrive. “I’m acutely aware of how cruel it is,” you continue, this next admission being what agonises you the most. It floods the room with guilt, and your voice trembles with self-condemnation that reigns harsher than any other voice in your head.

“It’s ridiculous. I’m evil and I’m wrong, and I just feel like it is inherently in my nature to be like this, as though some fault has been built into me with warning signs we evidently ignored.” You struggle to breathe. “I wish I could take back the day we decided to have him,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, lips doused in tears, skin searing with shame when Alexia cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “He should not have to be stuck with me as a mother.”

Your chest heaves, and you are finished. You have never verbalised it before now, and it is impossible to decide whether it has helped remove the lead lining of your heart where it has been bolstered against your will. Her other hand steadily rises to your face, but then, with only a second of hesitation, she is pulling you upwards and enveloping you in her embrace. You feel a little bit closer to her. “Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, tone cracked with sorrow and regret. “Lo siento mucho. Desearía haber sabido, desearía haber estado allí para ti.”

Gently, she tilts your face upwards to meet her gaze. “You are not evil and no estás equivocada. Estoy aquí ahora, y no te dejaré enfrentar esto sola nunca más.” You collapse into her. “I’m here, cariño, and I am not going anywhere.”

The sentiment is wonderful, and Alexia makes good on her word.

When Nico begins to cry, the sound piercing through your choked sobs, Alexia realises she has missed all of her life with you. Being separated and being apart due to work, she now knows, are two excruciatingly different things. The whiny wails from upstairs visibly jar you, though you pull away from Alexia to attend to him. “I will do it,” she declares, though her firmness is not mean. “Sit down. Eat the macaroons – they’re… ‘to die for’?” You nod with instinctive encouragement. “Sí. They’re to die for. Try. Jenni says that the pink ones are the best.”

“Jenni picked them out?” you ask with a briefly regained humour, eyebrows raising. “Had to get your friend to choose your apology gift?” In truth, neither of you know what Alexia would be apologising for, but Nico’s crying grows more incessant and Alexia is climbing the carpeted staircase before the topic can be discussed.

Alexia reaches her son with tears brimming in her eyes. The failure of Spain at the World Cup is amplified by the idea that she has disappointed him, though he does not yet possess the tools to pledge his allegiance to her country. In fact, Nico has been sleeping in Manchester United attire (your father has been his primary carer of late, and he does not charge you money, so the price is obviously Alexia’s sanity). She is more than glad to smell his nappy, and delighted about the opportunity to change him into something less hideous.

“Mama loves you so much,” she tells him as she manoeuvres his chubby legs into a plain, inoffensive onesie. “I promise, petit. I am going to help her, okay? And we are going to get through this together.” Alexia forgets about the taste of Jenni’s lips and the heat between them. “Mama just doesn’t see the direction she is going in. It is like her eyes are covered, and she is telling herself that she is walking down the wrong path, but this is not true. You are the most special thing in the world to us. You are the sunrise, the sunset, and the hours of the day.”

She pauses to stand him up on his tiny feet, hands hoisted underneath his armpits. He is heavier than when she last held him, but she is stronger than before, too. Women’s football is growing, along with her muscles. Nico babbles out a vague reply, but Alexia hears what he is trying to say. “I agree. We’ll be alright.” And, with all her heart, it rings true.

…

The following day, she calls the doctor for you, script written out on a piece of paper in front of her, translated perfectly so that her concern does not waver the information she needs to tell the receptionist. The clinic is famous and discreet, and they are quick to prescribe you antidepressants before the week draws to a close. You won’t be able to drink at your wedding, and everyone might think you are pregnant again, but Alexia reassures you that it will be worth it.

Wrapped up in your own bubble, the three of you enjoy London in a way that isn’t possible in Barcelona.

Here, Alexia has no commitment to football. There are no training sessions she must rush off to, there are no teammates to pry, and no one else to interfere with your private little routine. You quite like it, and she does too. It is only temporary, before you fly out to Menorca and hand Nico off to Eli in order to enjoy your respective bachelorette parties and then, in exactly seven days, your wedding itself.

“You’re still smoking,” Alexia says disapprovingly, the sleep in her voice enough to make you feel a pang of guilt. It’s late at night when Nico has finally been soothed from his aching gums, and she has been able to climb back into bed expecting to find you asleep already. “Why are you awake?”

“I’m still smoking,” you tell her. She sighs at the way you parrot her words, but presses an affectionate kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulders despite the lingering smell of cigarettes. “If I can’t drink, I’m going to smoke. This is Hollywood.”

“This is Highgate.” Her accent curls around the name with something a little too foreign for her to ever consider this place home. “Why are you awake?” she repeats.

You look down at the open notebook in your lap, the pages either blank or full of crossed-out lyrics. “He was so loud, but I can’t seem to write anything either so, really, it has been quite redundant.”

“I had to get a glass full of ice and hold it to my fingers so that I could help him. I could have lost some very important assets, but it seemed to do the trick.” He’s teething. You’re telling yourself that the antidepressants are little pills of miracle, and have kicked in already. “Feel.” She presses two freezing fingers to your cheek, and you gasp, flinching away from her.

“There’s a teething ring downstairs, you know,” you tell her. She shrugs. Maybe it isn’t clean. “Don’t give yourself frostbite. I happen to quite like your fingers.”

Alexia’s smirk is beyond suggestive, and her lips hit your neck once more with an entirely different heat to them. “Yeah?” You push her head away. “I bet it would feel good. Nice and cold.”

“You’re delirious.”

She continues to kiss you. “I don’t know what that means,” she mumbles into your neck, until her lips reach your face and she is near climbing into your lap – notebook long pushed onto the floor. “Dímelo en español.”

“No lo sé.”

“Ah. Una palabra inteligente.”

“Claro.”

She laughs into the kiss she presses against your lips. She never has never felt like this with anyone else. Never this relaxed, or loved, or safe. “Me vas a matar con tu inteligencia y voy a sentirme estúpida para siempre.”

“I love you,” you state softly. “I love every part of you.” Alexia, in that moment, decides to never do what she did with Jenni again, and to never break your heart by informing you of her betrayal.

…

You’re married.

You’re married to Alexia, a woman who bears the beauty of a goddess and the strength and will of someone who could capture the sun and tame the fire that rages on its surface.

You admire her as she sleeps so peacefully beside you, tanned skin warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the hotel room. Later, you will get on the ferry, go back to Barcelona, and then fly to Capri for three days alone before Alexia’s preseason starts. Aside from a few meetings with Dave, you theoretically aren’t swamped with anything. You’ll be joining her in her city with Nico with a bit more permanence than last time.

Alexia buries her face in the covers, crawling into your open arms the minute the sunlight rouses her. “Everything is sore,” she groans, her bare skin slightly sticking to yours, the sweat from last night not yet gone.

“What happened to ‘mi vida, one more time won’t hurt’?” you tease, impersonating her heavy accent over your English with enough drama to get her to elicit another grumble. This time, it’s something about being bullied. “Darling, we have to get up. We’re having breakfast with our parents, and apparently Nico has been upset that we got a night to ourselves.”

“Pobrecito,” she replies with a newfound level of English sarcasm. She spent the wedding reception avoiding the dance floor, engaged in a long conversation with your father. The topics spanned over most areas of life, and briefly touched upon how you are doing now. Alexia, with much pleasure, confirmed the improvement, however miniscule it has been. She is very proud of you, and he is too. “I only want one thing for breakfast.”

Her hands begin to roam, the band of her wedding ring hitting your pubic bone. “Mi vida, one more time won’t hurt,” she mocks you from before but in her sexier, Spanish husk, sucking at your collarbone, straddling your waist.

You replace your near moan with a thoughtful hum. “I really want pancakes. Do you think they’ll make me some?”

Downstairs, where it is brighter and impossible to conceal the hickeys on both of your necks, you greet your parents, brother, Anya, and Gio. Alexia’s mother, her sister, and Jenni are sitting at the table, too. Your baby is pretending he isn’t teething, and grinning like an angel.

“How’s married life?” Anya asks as you take a seat opposite her, Alexia to your right. The table has a gradient of bilingualism, but Gio discovered that she picks up Spanish quite easily considering she can already speak one romance language. “We’ve already found, like, four articles talking about it.”

“How?” you ask, but you are not offended.

Gio shrugs. “Drones, I guess. Nothing bad, though. Some speculation about the other bride – if the article does mention that. Most talk is on the dress.” It was a bloody good dress. “And I suspect that there’ll be a juicy little question about who was your Maid of Honour.”

“Don’t be salty,” you tell her. The MOH issue was sorted out years ago – perhaps 2015 – when you binged Friends together despite having watched it thousands of times before. Anya has been yours, Gio will be hers, and you will be Gio’s. And they say trios never work.

“I left Mia with her dad for this.”

“You shouldn’t have had a baby with a man-slag,” Anya says with a snort, enjoying her second mimosa and Gio’s grimace at the idea of her daughter having to put up with her father’s revolving door of one-night-stands. “You’re one to make terrible decisions. At least our girl over here’s married someone who looks at her like she’s hung the moon.”

Alexia turns to you with a smile, as if on cue, with Nico in her lap. You glance at his rounded cheeks and shining eyes, looking back up at your friends as though to check they are still there. Alexia leans forwards so that she can whisper in your ear. “Te amo. Nico, también. Mi familia es perfecta.”

…

Returning to Barcelona comes with one negotiated condition on your part. You buy a bigger apartment, where there is space for an office and extra bedrooms. Alexia says her teammates will be taking the piss out of her grand new place the minute she sees it, but she is more than content to contribute to the finances with her new-and-improved salary for this season. “It’s weird to think that I’m from Mollet,” murmurs Alexia, standing in the middle of the large lounge area, surrounded by boxes. Most are from your old flat, but a few have been flown in from London. Alexia wanted you to have your Grammy with you. “This place is so fancy.”

“It’s half of what the men’s team get,” you remind her, holding Nico with care as he gnaws away on a frozen carrot. His saliva drips onto you, but the antidepressants are working, and the therapy has been effective enough for you to start taking childcare in turns. (You had tried to previously, but Alexia wanted you to focus on yourself, knowing that things will change for all of you once the season started.) “Hey.” You place your hand on her shoulder. She tickles Nico’s chin. “We deserve this. You deserve this. Why don’t you host one of your team’s dinners? I’ll take Nico round to your mum’s – God knows she’d love to shove some food down my throat, too.”

She shakes her head, strands of brown unstraightened due to the stress of the move and falling out of her bun with a determination to defy her hair bobble. “They would kill me if I did it without you. They’re all far too grateful that you invited Taylor Swift to our wedding.”

“She’s a friend.” If you hadn’t been distracted by various other happenings that night, you’d have clocked that Alexia’s side of the guests were completely up to their ears in celebrities they’d never expected to meet. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here?”

“I always want you to stay here,” she answers.

“Not what I meant.”

“I won’t take it back.”

Nico babbles an incoherent yet cutely Spanish-y noise, though his words are getting closer to being said at the old age of eight months. Then, suddenly, something in him clicks. “Mama,” he squeals, his little fist scrunching up the fabric of your t-shirt. “Mamama.”

“Nicolau!” Alexia replies with just as much enthusiasm, cupping his cheeks. She kisses his nose, and then his forehead, and then his chubby knees and socked feet. “Nicolau, sí, la mama et té a las mans! Bon noi, el meu bon i intel·ligent noi.”

“Does that count?”

“Mama,” Nico repeats, tugging your earlobe. “Mama. Mama.” It is easy to forget about the (lessening) resentment you harbour when he speaks. Alexia gets him to say it as many times as she can before he goes back to his carrot, but, even then, the two of you stay in that spot, marvelling at your creation.

Slowly, she turns around in a circle, absorbing the plain walls and towers of boxes. “This is going to be good. Life is going to be good,” you declare with such a firmness that it has to be true. “Darling, let’s get to unpacking and then we can think about a date for this dinner party.”

“We are going to plan the party?” She raises her eyebrows at you. “Is this party going to start at five o’clock?”

“Not all of us shit yellow and red.” (In a national sense – you’d have haemorrhoids for United any day of the week.)

Alexia takes Nico off you, in a show of cultural dominance. You’re actually outnumbered, considering he isn’t a British Citizen, and though he shares no DNA with your wife, he has inherited the same ability to narrow his eyes just enough to serve absolute cunt whenever he so pleases. If you weren’t feeling so ganged up on, you’d be a little impressed. “Nico y yo vamos a hacer croquetas de jamón. Adiós.”

“Darling, the kitchen isn’t–” But you cut yourself off, deciding that she can discover that on her own, along with the criminally empty fridge. You don’t hide your smugness at all when she finds you in your almost-finished bedroom, wearing a look of utter disappointment and mumbling out a heartbroken request for a food delivery as soon as possible.

…

November marks three years of being together and, also, four weeks of having Alexia’s ‘DNA’ – a pomeranian called Nala, whose Instagram account is run by her favourite parent after you called it silly and told your wife you’d much rather attend to your own seventeen million followers.

Towards the end of the month, after a well-spent morning and then a family outing to Barcelona Zoo, Alexia meets Jenni Hermoso in a restaurant in what Jenni calls ‘your new rich-people neighbourhood’ in her text to Alexia.

Alexia, really and truly, is happy to have her best friend back in Barcelona. She missed her last year, when Jenni had returned to Atleti, and that separation maybe made what happened the night Spain was knocked out of the World Cup just that bit more understandable. “You’re a Culer, no matter how hard you try to fight it,” Alexia had said when she had climbed back into her own bed, not wanting to fall asleep in Jenni’s arms. “It was terrible to not have Y/n or you.”

You and Jenni: Alexia’s people.

“How’s your wife?” Jenni asks with a grin, two glasses of wine into a pleasant evening at an expensive restaurant. “You’ve left her with Nico, so something must be working.”

In truth, you have been determined to get better. There were articles released not long after the photos of your wedding were circulated, and those speculated a lot about how you are finding motherhood. The baby pictured, captured by long-range lenses and invasive drones, was the world’s first glimpse at what Nico Putellas L/n looks like, and reminded many of them that you had a child to care for when in London, yet were frequently spotted at nightclubs and parties. You rise to most challenges, however, and find it a lot easier to adapt to weekly therapy sessions and pills every morning when you have a wrongful image to disprove.

“It’s as if it never happened,” Alexia says, both with pride and surprise. “She now seeks to spend time with him. She takes him with her to the recording studio – the album’s coming along well.” It’s your first on your own. Nico plays with one mixing desk, while Dave (flown in from London with the promise that the Barcelona sun will do wonders for his wife’s misery) plays with another. “And… Jenni, we’ve been talking. The clinic that we used for Nico asked us if we wanted to reserve sperm when we first had him, and now they have called asking if now is a good time. I think… I think that she is really considering it. She told me yesterday that her therapist wants me to sit in on the next session, so we can go over how we can make this time different.”

Jenni frowns, which is not what the woman opposite her had expected at all. “Why are you two having more children? You’re only twenty-five, Ale. Isn’t this going to affect your career?”

“The men do it all the time.” She’s done a spot of research. They are younger than her when their girlfriends start getting pregnant, and they continue to play with the added admiration that they are fathers as well.

“Yes, but they have the benefit of getting paid millions. They don’t have to fight with their federation for pitches or pay, and they can focus on football without their career sparking controversy for even existing.”

“Then my children will grow up with a mother who fights for change.”

“Or they grow up with a pop star who only wants things she cannot have and a footballer who can’t spend any time with them because she is too busy speaking at various conventions so that the next league match isn’t cancelled.”

“Jenni, do you think your opinion would be different if Y/n was a man?”

This elicits laughter from the other woman, who rolls her eyes in a way that can only be described as condescending. “Alexia, you’re forgetting that I’m a lesbian too, which is a magnificent feat.” Jenni references the kiss they shared, and what happened after that. “But, no. I don’t. I want you to be the greatest footballer in the world, and you want that too. What are you going to do when Y/n tells you she wants to move back to England? Are you going to give up your future here for her?”

The waiter interrupts briefly, collecting their empty plates and carting them off with a mission to retrieve the bill after a sharply declined offer for the dessert menu. “You don’t even know if that will happen,” Alexia scoffs, though she is a little sad that her exciting news hasn’t been well-received. “I was going to say that I’d think about the name Jennifer if it ends up being a girl, but now I’m leaning more towards María…”

She is kicked under the table, and she has to hold in her cry of pain because this restaurant is one of your favourite places to eat. “Mapi cannot have this victory over me. She’d be insufferable. Ale, you simply aren’t allowed to do that.” There’s another kick, but it is more playful this time.

Alexia laughs, smiling and thankful that the tension has diffused. “I’m only joking. Y/n has a list scribbled in the back of her lyric book. She’ll probably be called Elena.” That is much more acceptable to Jenni’s ears, and she files that information away for next year, when she’ll tell Mapi that Alexia doesn’t like her name.

…

It works. Alexia and you are lucky. The doctor tells Alexia that, if she were a man, the two of you would have to be extremely careful. Your wife marvels at your ability to destroy your body and stay fertile, but she supposes that you are not the kind of woman to be a lesbian. Sometimes, she wakes up in a cold sweat, believing that you have changed your mind and left her.

The New Year is a fresh start. Alexia decides to fix the (not so) hidden cracks in your relationship. She confides in her newly-acquired therapist. She may have made a mistake once; the secret is sandwiched between her worries about your susceptibility to depression and how Nico is a decided food critic.

Though the therapist, a lovely bilingual woman named Sofía, raises her eyebrows, she does not pry. She slides a paper calling card over to Alexia. The paper squeaks along the coffee table between the two comfortable armchairs of the office. “I specialise in couples. Seeing as your wife is already a client of mine, I think you should consider a joint session.” Alexia is new to the idea of mental health. Before, she had been too focused on football to care about it. Even when her father died, any professional she spoke to was only hearing how her mind worked because she knew it was what was best for her performance. “And, Alexia.” She looks up at the therapist with a small, nervous smile. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I am sure Nico will make a wonderful older brother.”

Morning sickness drags you out of your shared bed most days.

Alexia asks you about couples’ therapy when you have finished your dry-heaving one morning.

“I mean,” you begin before pausing, gulping down the sour taste in your mouth and hoping nothing else is trying to hit the toilet water until tomorrow. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” She is dressed in her training kit, but she slings her jumper over your shoulders as soon as you shiver. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“It would do no harm.” As long as Sofía does not bring up Alexia’s confession, your statement will ring true. “You book the appointment. It’ll be easier to work around your schedule that way.”

“When are you flying back to London?” Her question is not filled with hatred for the city, but with resignation to the fact that your job involves you being stretched between here and there.

“Not until next month. I thought that I could take Nico to an away game with my dad if I got a flight for Saturday. The rest of the week would be interviews and photoshoots.”

“How’s the album doing?”

So far, your songs are only written when Alexia has paid you enough attention to swirl your thoughts and blur your vision. It is in these moments that the lingering, sinking weight inside of you dissipates. “Dave remains hopeful. It won’t fail, but I need it to be better than what we currently have.”

Shamelessly, Alexia is aware of her effect on your songs. She smirks; “Alba has been begging to babysit, you know.” With no care for your current state, Alexia’s eyes rake up and down your body. You grow embarrassed by how you are slumped over the toilet, and how she is standing above you as though she runs your world. “You look beautiful, mi amor,” she murmurs as you bashfully duck your head between your bent arms.

“You’re a flirt.” It feels too late for her to still be in the flat. “And you’re going to miss training if you don’t get a move on. There are eggs in the fridge, and Nico definitely liked the omelette you made him a few days ago. He’ll be waking up soon.”

A small sigh escapes the midfielder’s lips, but the prospect of the things she loves most in the world appearing in her life consecutively is enough to convince her to pad her way out the bathroom, swanning into the corridor with a little grin on her face as she sings out ‘bon dia’ to an impressively multilingual toddler and heads into the kitchen with the domestic intention of getting breakfast started. She leaves an omelette out for you, which you attack shortly after Alexia and Nico disappear into their daily routine. She drops him off at preschool, and you pick him up a few hours later, taking him first for lunch with Alba, and then to the studio.

You come home to a showered Alexia who is memorising her most recent match. She lets Nico slide into her lap without hesitation, but she stays focused on the football even when he tugs on the strands of hair falling out of ponytail. You marvel at the idea of having enough room in your heart for so much love. You decide that you are not like Alexia, though it is not necessarily a terrible thing. A further observation from watching your wife settle her son with a calm, muttered Catalan telling-off, coaxing him into loving football as though he does not already, is that you are so very content with your life at the moment.

But 2020 kind of sucks.

For the entire world.

You’re cut off from your home in any other manner than a digital one, and being stuck in a luxurious penthouse in Barcelona isn’t the worst fate, but it really isn’t ideal.

Elena, however, has the benefit of coming into the world with ever (physically) present parents, who could recite the java script for Zoom given that they spend hours on therapy calls. Elena, bright and smiley and the picture of her mother, spends the first few months of her life in a happy, happy family, protected by an entire football team and a fierce older brother. (And a yappy Pomerianian called Nala.)

“Y/n doesn’t like the name María,” Jenni tells Mapi when Alexia sends the first picture of your new addition to the Barcelona group chat.

“The next baby is going to be a Jennifer,” Mapi says, to both the forward and the unimpressed midfielder walking a few paces in front of such a silly conversation. “For that, I can only feel sorry for her.”

…

The routine changes the following year.

It starts with an abrupt but expected conversation. One that Alexia has been dreading.

Your album – the first one that is just you – was released two months ago, and it has done too well. Selfishly, Alexia had hoped it would fail. You have enough money, and she is earning more and more each season. Success, unfortunately, means that this little life can no longer exist. Or can it?

“I have to do it,” you whisper to her, tears in your eyes though the smell of sex still lingers. The quietness of a child-free apartment allows for you to hear her gulp. “It’ll be different this time, darling, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t fly out to London every few days. I can’t leave you with a five-month-old and a toddler when you are training every day and playing matches every weekend. It’s not fair on anyone.”

Alexia kisses your bare shoulder, hands slipping round your waist as she pulls your sweaty body into her. Her chest presses against your back, but she is only behind you in this bed. She does not agree with you. She does not support it. But, like she always does, she bites her tongue. “If that’s what you want,” she replies, and part of you dies with the thought that she does not really care. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. For us.” And she tells Jenni all about it when she goes to see her a week later – the flimsy excuse of meeting a childhood friend for dinner enough to wrap a cloth around your eyes and leave you at home with a screaming toddler and a baby whose only flaw is that she grows distraught the moment she is put down.

In the dimly lit living room, the tension hangs thick in the air. You lock eyes. “Why can't you just move with us? Everyone will want you, darling, and life would be easier,” you plead, a month down the line. The house in Highgate has been readied for your more permanent return.

Alexia takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “Why can't you get it into your head that I'm not leaving Spain or Barcelona? This is my home.”

“What about the children? School? Life? My career? Does it mean nothing to you?”

Her eyes soften. Your heart breaks, and the piece of you that has already died somehow dies again. “I'm thinking of the children. All the time, I think of them. About the reputation of my name – their name. Putellas, the greatest in the world, or Putellas, the one with potential wasted at West Ham?”

“You're being selfish, Lex,” you snap. “This is an opportunity for all of us, not just me. Think about their future!”

“Their future is here, in the culture they know, the languages they speak. I won't strip them of their identity for the sake of a 'better' life. And my career? I've worked too hard to build what I have here. I won't throw it away.” I don’t want to throw it away. Underscored by Don’t leave me again.

The room echoes with the weight of her voice. “Their identity comes from both of us.” It’s too final for either of your liking. Elena begins to cry in her cot. “I want to try it. I want you to be open to trying it.”

She gestures to the suitcases by the door. “Trying it and doing it are two different things. You’re taking them from me!”

“You’re probably going to love life without them anyway!” you shout. You feel like the crying baby, except the tears rolling down your cheeks carry much more suffering than hers. “You’ll – what? You’ll go out with your friends, and you’ll be able to go to the gym whenever you want. No arguing, no crying, no toddler to entertain, no nappies to change. You never wanted children. I forced it upon you. I regret it, and I’m sorry. We’ll go.”

“Don’t go.”

I don’t want you to go.

“I have to.”

You turn your back to her as you fly through the corridor, prepared to console Elena in a taxi. Alexia slips her ring off her finger, and clutches it in her palm instead. Desperately, she searches for a solution. There is nothing within her reach, not even you.

…

She is an island amongst a sea of happy people. She is going to be the greatest footballer in the world. It kills her to realise that she can now focus on football.

Nico starts nursery, attending the same school you once did. He adjusts to life in London seamlessly, and Elena does not seem to care either way. He learns more English every day, and his other mother calls him nightly to read to him.

With childcare more than sorted, you are free to be interviewed, pictured, and invited to events. You rake in the publicity, especially after laying so slow over the course of the lockdown in Spain.

“Alexia.” Jenni’s hands knead her tight shoulders, partly teasing her. Alexia wears a frown, eyebrows knitting together with an emotion she’s not sure she can name. “Ale, it’s the same game as always. Nothing has changed.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t understand why I feel like this.” She has continued to speak to Sofía, though your joint sessions have now come to a halt while you spend your time doubling as a singer and model. The therapist, try as she might, cannot evaluate the situation effectively enough. Eli and Alba have both tried to help, hoping that weekly dinners and the constant reminder about the invention of aeroplanes would ease the turmoil of Alexia’s mind. It does not. “I am so alone, Jenni.”

Nala is too small to fill the emptiness of the flat. Screens don’t allow for her to kiss you, or play with Nico. She is scared she will miss Elena’s first words.

“You don’t have to be.”

It only takes a month for Alexia to break, and it sort of works.

In Jenni’s bed, it works. Hips keening, soft pants falling from her mouth.

Quiet moans that stay locked in Jenni’s apartment.

Each time Alexia leaves, though Jenni repeatedly requests that she stays, she walks out as half a woman. She blinks back her tears and she checks her phone. When she calls you – not a video call – you are never any the wiser to the scratches down her back.

Alexia remains an island, but the sand beaches are tainted with the arrival of someone else.

In this way, she is functional.

She can do sex. She can deal with borderline romance. She can fill the space that you are tearing open with every passing minute spent in that god-awful country you insist on calling home. She can fix it a little bit with Jenni.

She tells herself that it does not mean anything more than a bandage means to a wound. Who wears the bandage once the gash has healed?

Where does she put the used bandage?

Why is she focused on bandages?! She’s having an affair. It’s not an affair! (It is.) Alexia doesn’t… quite… wanttoadmititjustyet.

…

The buzz of your phone is the final push that gets you to conclude the current interview you are trapped in. Before checking what the notification is, you glance at the time. You have half an hour before you need to pick up Nico, and your parents said they would drop Elena home once they returned from London Zoo.

Alexia: Jenni has had a really good idea

It’s an intriguing text amongst the more practical ones that oil the mechanics of managing the distance. Tonight, Barcelona play their last match of the season. After this, she’ll be flying out to London. You have missed her. The last time you saw her in person was after Barcelona embarrassed Chelsea in Gothenburg. Elated and filled with pride, it was incredibly nice to have the biggest room in the hotel to yourselves. Her medal was almost as beautiful as her.

You: Go on…

Alexia: Just draw a heart on Nico’s hand from me porfa. You’ll see.

You slide into the driver’s seat of your newest self-indulgent car; a Porsche. Momentarily distracted by a camera flash, your turn onto the main road is a little risky, but you manage to make it to the school in time to collect your son.

“Was he good?” you ask his teacher as she hands you Nico’s book bag. You take in the sight of him: hair messy, school uniform stained though they require the little ones to wear aprons for most of the day. “It’s a little different here. I’m hoping that he’s enjoying himself.”

“Our new assistant is from Spain,” says the teacher with a small, tired smile, batting her long eyelashes at you. “We had to pry him off her.”

You let out a laugh. “He misses his mum.”

“He’s extremely intelligent. He knew to speak Spanish to her and English to us.” Though your grasp of Spanish is near-fluent after such reluctance from your wife to try English, you know that the two-year-old has a talent for juggling the three languages he is growing up around. You’re proud of him. “You shouldn’t worry about him. And, speaking of, we have a parents’ coffee morning just around the corner. It’s always great for the parents to get along – it helps the school feel even more like a family. Will it just be you attending?” Nico’s teacher is around your age, and you can smell her rose perfume that mingles with the soft hint of ready-mixed paint. She has deep, brown eyes, and she is definitely flirting with you.

“Next week, right? I’ll have to check with my wife.”

It’s then that a toddler-sized hand grips your fingers and tugs. “Mama, me voy,” he groans; something akin to Alexia’s impatience. It reminds you of when you used to go shopping and she’d herd you out with the threat of getting in the car and driving away. “Venga.”

“One sec, sweetheart.” There are countless ways in which you miss Alexia. “My wife and I would love to come.”

Her smile does not falter on her lips, but there is a greyish disappointment that dulls the warmth of her irises. You smile as you turn your back and lead Nico to the car. You are so excited for Alexia to complete the broken puzzle.

You melt when she kisses the heart drawn onto her hand when celebrating her goal. Nico copies her, lips pursing and sloppily mimicking the action on a similar heart. “For you, sweetheart,” you tell him as he settles back into your side, careful not to jostle Elena who has fallen asleep on your chest (the therapist did wonders for you).

“It was for you,” Jenni tells Alexia after the match. Her goal is now serving as the move Alexia feared she’d make. They have changed and been massaged and done the media the are required to do (women’s football is growing): they are free to roam Barcelona if they so wish.

Her flight is tomorrow evening – “I have a flight tomorrow evening.”

“Come over tonight.” It isn’t a question, yet it is not quite a command. Mapi passes the two of them, eyes narrowing at the way Jenni has wrapped her hand around Alexia’s wrist. The defender is aware that something is going on, though it breaks her heart to imagine Alexia ever doing that to you. Not knowing they are being watched, Alexia steps in; cups Jenni’s face, brushes her cheekbone with a stroke of her thumb Mapi knows is meant for her wife. Mapi’s stomach lurches. She feels sick.

“I need to…” It’s not a ‘no’. “Jenni.” She hates that it is not a ‘no’.

“Ale.” There’s a beat. Mapi blinks twice, shakes her head, and backs away. “I’ll miss you, you know?”

…

Jenni doesn’t seem to mind when, the next day, blurry pictures of you on a family outing make rounds through the tabloids she usually doesn’t read. The fact that, up until now, no one has known that your wife is Alexia Putellas has no effect on her. She was stupid for thinking the last six months meant something. Winning together, losing together. Sleeping together.

In this deal, Alexia has fucked over both women who love her. Except, you don’t know. She hasn’t told you, though Jenni had hoped for it secretly – hoped Alexia chose her – and it is obvious. Obvious to Jenni, who is well acquainted with the blonde hair in the wings of your concert at the O2. Obvious to Jenni, who refuses to think of herself as the other woman.

She consults Mapi.

Mapi, who she has come to shamefully realise already knows.

“I can’t believe the two of you.” The defender is clear in her distaste and disappointment and, honestly, her disgust. “But I am not going to be the one to break that poor girl’s heart.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

What is she asking? What does she want from this utterly useless conversation?

“Mapi.” Jenni closes her eyes, but she sees two faces instead of darkness. Nico. Elena. She’s Elena’s godmother. You decided that – convinced Alexia to choose her best friend over her younger sister, told your wife that there’d be another for Alba to corrupt. “Mapi, I love her. I don’t know what to do.”

“She loves her wife.” The next sentence proceeds to brutally remind Jenni who that isn’t. “Tell her you’re done. Find someone else. Anyone but her.”

That is Jenni’s resolve, because she knows that Mapi is right.

…

June, July, and August pass with bliss.

Everyone says that you are a beautiful couple with beautiful children. Alexia beams with pride as she flaunts her practised English, and gladly claims ownership of Nico when he wins a prize on speech day. Every child in Reception is awarded something but that doesn’t stop her from boasting.

She explores the country with the children while you shack up in the recording studio, and brings hugs and kisses (and Red Bull) every evening after dinner. The visits are what reminds you of the sun Alexia brings, especially as the warmth follows her from Barcelona and London is blessed with golden days. Dog days.

“This isn’t permanent.” Alexia looks up from her phone, comfortable in your bed. The house in Highgate has flecks of Spain woven into the decor now, and you like it that way.

You climb into the bed beside her, and her arm lifts so that you can snuggle into her chiselled stomach (wow, she has been working hard this season). “What’s Jenni saying?” you ask, following your statement and hoping you’ll get her attention. She presses her phone screen into the duvet before you can translate the message – it is too long of a paragraph for you to handle. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that this isn’t permanent.”

Alexia, over the past few months, has been the most affectionate, loving, amazing person with the same smile and giggle you married. You thought she had disappeared and was replaced with stern, career-focused Alexia Putellas, jugadora del fútbol. You were wrong.

“I’m thinking January is when we’ll come back. Nico’s English will survive.” Your parents are going travelling. They’ve never been on the Orient Express before. “I want to be with you.”

It is a good thing Jenni has just broken up with her.

“I love you,” you continue. “So much.”

Alexia hums. Her heart breaks, and she does not know for whom. “¿En serio?” She is happy, she thinks. Certainly, she is glad that the four of you will be reunited.

You are.

January 2022 ruins things for Jenni Hermoso. She calls Pachuca back.

#barca femeni #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona #woso imagines #mapi leon #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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meanbossart · 1 month

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ASK COMPILATION ABOUT THE WEIRD DROW

Replying to a couple of shorter questions! Sorry that I can't get to all of you lest this blog just turns into a stream of constant asks, but I read all of your messages and to be honest there are several that I'm saving to draw something for 😭 alas there are only so many hours in a day.

Thank you for all the support and interactivity as always!

He takes fairly good care of things he considers important or useful - otherwise he's pretty messy or at least indifferent to mess. Definitely a "leaves the wet towel on the bed" guy LOL

Okay so I was bad and not used to DnD mechanics or spells the first time I played the game, so I RARELY ever cast Speak With Animals and had very little sense of their personality during his campaign - BUT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME WHEN I DID.

THERE WAS ONE TIME WHERE I REMEMBERED.

AND IT WAS PERFECT.

He adores and most of all respects this intense little guy with his whole heart.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Serious answer: he respects wild animals far too much to try and make one into a pet.

Non-serious but still true answer: He would never do that and have to deal with Astarion's incessant Drizzt Do'urden joke comparisons for the rest of his existence. That's that man's personal hell.

He's fairly adaptable! But as far as dynamics go, he does lean bottom regardless of who he's with in bed, but this doesn't necessarily translate into always being on the receptive end of things.

If he were to be with a cisgender woman who doesn't wear a strap like its a second pair of briefs, he would be more than happy to be the pitcher the majority of the time. I think the only scenario where he would be dissatisfied is a restrictive one - he couldn't be with someone who doesn't want to enjoy his whole body in earnest, or who can't flip the roles every once in a while. Also, you have to be a little gross. He has probably caught Astarion off-guard with the things he did on a whim/suggested they do more than once. All in all, as long as whoever he's with is versatile and not a prude, they could probably make it work.

He killed Minthara in her lair and all he got was a bear out of it. Good thing killing her was it's own reward!

MAN... Could just be that his story is far too concrete in my brain already, but it's hard for me to see that working. They are both far too out of touch with their emotions and quiet in their demeanor for me to envision a durable romance sparking. Also, DU drow (who has no clue how old he is himself) thinks of Shadowheart as being far too young for him.

There is a mutual understanding between them that there is a barrier that neither of them is willing to let the other get past - and because that is something they both share, they won't, and they might never try. They work so well as friends because of their similarities, but in a relationship I think that would be to their detriment.

Also, I think silver-haired Shadowheart's wants and needs for her future far diverge from DU drow's chaotic lifestyle, ultimately It's probably best for them to make their own paths.

HAHAHAHA LISTEN.... YOU'RE TALKING AS IF THOSE TWO THINGS DON'T GO TOGETHER PERFECTLY WELL BUT IN MY MIND THEY ARE ONE AND THE SAME.

The thing about DU drow is that he might be a bottom, but he's a very... Uh, engaged bottom. He can be as dominant with a dick in his ass as he can be submissive depending on how it jives with his partner- and he's gonna spew some nonsense either way LOL

Either way... I feel ya brother 😔🍑

He did it himself during a dinner Gortash invited him to. At the table. With a meat knife. He was trying to prove a really stupid point/put Gortash off of him.

I have a script for this and I still need to draw it someday! 🤦‍♂️

He doesn't think anything of it now - it's so far in the past and DU drow obviously isn't the judgemental type when it comes to sordid individuals LOL

As a person, however, Astarion likely wasn't the kind of guy that he would have gotten along with, and vice-versa. Sounds to me like he was pretty poshy and did all his misdeeds under the table - DU drow wouldn't have strong feelings about it from an ethical standpoint, but he wouldn't respect it either. Also, DU drow's is practically anarchistic in his political views - soooooo not much room there to be in love with politicians. I'm sure pre-vampirism Astarion would have less than favorable opinions about him as well so the feeling would have been mutual LOL.

ABSOLUTELY NOT HE NEEDS BOTH EYES TO CUT THROUGH FOES he will gladly put Gale on the slab to see what happens though LMAO

#ask compilation

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kyojurismo · 10 months

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tags : fem!reader, spider-man au, reader gets kidnapped by a criminal, mention of injuries and blood, first kiss, bkg fell first & i got a little carried away alright bear w me.

notes : i just can’t help it, i had to write something about him as spider-man and here we are. across the spider-verse motivated me even more i guess . . . anyway, enjoy !! <3

special tag : @doumadono ♡

part two

spider-man!bakugo who happens to be your classmate, you find yourself study with him since he’s very smart and doesn’t even has to try. the annoying part? he’s popular and girls are all over him, so you’re often disturbed during your studying sessions.

spider-man!bakugo who starts developing feelings for you, finds himself staring at you as you focus on your notes and books, follows your figure in the corridors making sure you’re okay.

spider-man!bakugo who often finds himself checking on you while doing his usual patrols. you never notice him of course, he makes sure of it.

spider-man!bakugo who one day happens to hear you talking about him— well, about spider-man. he’s curious to hear your opinion about him.

“well, i’m glad someone is out there helping capturing criminals, but . . .” your friend shrugs, searching another article about spider-man. “look. he almost let this poor man fall from a balcony while trying to stop this criminal,” she points out.

you chuckle at her words, surprising her. “he can’t control civilians’ reactions, y’know. i think he’s doing a good work and he makes me feel more safe when i walk alone at night,” you confess, smiling. “we shouldn’t be too judgemental, i’m sure he’s doing his best.”

after hearing your words bakugo covers his mouth with his palm in attempt to hide his growing smile.

spider-man!bakugo who discovers some criminal kidnapped you and is using you against the police. he’s quick to arrive to the scene and enter inside the building, careful to not being noticed by the criminal pointing a gun to your head.

“please, lemme go!” you cry as you grip the criminal’s arm desperately, tears rushing down your warm cheeks. you can feel he is nervous, and that’s not good at all. he would probably shoot you if the police tries to come inside.

“they saw my face! i’m fucked! shit, i’m so fucked!” he screamed, shaking you and pushing the gun against your temple more harshly.

bakugo crawls on the ceiling, watching closely. he then quickly uses his web to disarm the man, immobilising him to the ground and then reach your shaking figure. “are you hurt?” he asks you, appearing in front of you.

“s-spider-man?” you raise your hands to touch his chest and shoulders to make sure he’s real and you’re not already dead or something. “yeah, it’s me. did he hurt you?” he sounds anxious, even though you seemed alright.

“uh i… yeah, i’m okay,” you check your figure and you don’t see any trace of blood or anything, then you raise your eyes to look at his masked face. “good. i gotta go now,” he hears the police starting to enter inside and he’s quick to rush through the back to exit the building.

“w-wait!” you turn and watch him, once his head turn to look at you you speak again. “thank you for saving me,” you smile at him. bakugo nods and then runs away, without being noticed by the police.

you couldn’t see it because of the mask, but katsuki smiled back at you.

spider-man!bakugo who feels good at the thought of being out there to protect you, to save you if needed. he has another reason to fight for his city.

spider-man!bakugo who bumped into you while running away from a scene after he succeeded in capturing the criminal. “careful, princess!” he shouts before running past you, before using his web to swing away. you feel your heart skipping a beat at the petname.

spider-man!bakugo who’s constantly debating about telling you his true identity, hoping that it would provide him at least a chance to be with you but also remember that it would put you in danger.

spider-man!bakugo who one night jumped into your window, falling on the floor and hitting your desk. you scream as you jump to your feet, scanning the figure lying on your floor… bleeding.

“oh my god… can you… hey!” you kneel beside him, checking the side of his stomach bleeding. you were about to remove his mask, as a way to help him breathing better but he’s quick to grab your wrist, almost scaring you. “don’t.”

you gulp and simply get up, reaching the bathroom and looking for a first aid kit. then you rush back into your room to medicate him. “what happened?” you ask as you start working on the injury. “i got shot, but the bullet passed through so it’s fine,” his voice is strained and visibly in pain but he doesn’t flinch as you medicate him. “it’s fine?! it seems like you’re bleeding to death!”

bakugo’s eyes search for your face and notices you’re actually worried about him. once you’re done you help him to your bed, helping him lying comfortably enough. you were lucky your parents weren’t home that night.

“i’m sorry,” he then speaks as you go back to your desk. “ah? sorry for what?” you turn your head for a moment, seeing spider-man lying in your bed was truly a sight. “coming to you, entering out of nowhere.”

you shake your head and then try to focus on the rest of your homework. you can feel him stare at your figure and it distracts you a bit, so you sigh and close your books a bit too loudly as you cringe. you get up and go check on him again, when you try to remove his mask once more he flinches away, stopping you.

“i need to check if you have a fever,” you explain, staring down at him. “i’m totally fine,” he shrugs and tries to sound convincing enough. “sorry, but i don’t really trust the word of a masked vigilante with a very bad injury lying in my bed.”

“i can lie on the floor if you prefer,” he tries to joke before grabbing your wrists as you try again. “okay, listen… you take it off while i keep my eyes closed and then i touch your forehead, what about it?” you try, just wanting to make sure he doesn’t have any infection from the injury. he seems to be thinking about before giving up. “hm.”

you close your eyes and wait for him to take the mask off, then you feel him guiding your hand to his forehead. you sigh in relief as you confirm that he’s alright. you retrieve your hand and wait for a couple of moments. “can i open my eyes now?” you ask him, a bit uncomfortable now that you couldn’t see what he was up to. “not yet.”

his voice is much closer than before and you then feel his breath fanning over you cheek. you shiver as his hand reached for your face and cupped your cheek. your heart starts beating so fast it almost jumps out of your chest before he leans closer and kisses your lips, the kiss lasts for a few seconds before he pulls away and lies back down, his face now fully covered.

you open your eyes and glance at him before turning around, trying to hide the embarrassment and the excitement. bakugo smirks from under the mask before closing his eyes, satisfied with his actions.

spider-man!bakugo who notices you’re trying to find out the real identity of spider-man, trying to see if it’s someone from your school. he’s sure you will never find out, he acts completely different when he’s spider-man. his secret is safe . . . right?

#📂 — writing !!#spider man au #spider man!bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo drabble #katsuki bakugo blurb #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo fanfic #mha bakugou #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfic

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recycledraccoon · 1 month

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Quick! I'm from the future!! I need your inkblade headcanons or scenarios or the universe will implode!

Ok ok, I can do this. I can answer this ask without going out of control. I can be normal about this, I can.

I don't have very many hardset headcanons, but more vibes that rise and fall like the tide. Oisin's fins/head-crest flare out ramrod straight and the spines turn as purple as his face if he's blushing hard enough. I will die on this hill. Oisin's non-verbal emotions are actually really easy to pick up on if he's too distracted to keep them tightly in control. A thick dragonborn tail lashing back and forth like an outlet for Emotions That Are Too Big can be really inconvenient in a highschool hallway. The rise and fall of his fins/head-crest are MUCH harder to hide however. Oisin also smells perpetually of petrichor, and it drives Adaine insane.

1. I think Oisin's crush started softly, and with indescribable longing, probably before he ever knew who she was. Freshman year, a Thursday Intro To Glyphs class. He doesn't know or talk to her at all, just a face in a class he has that he barely notices. So he's not falling for her quite yet.

I think he first fell in love in the way one does when you see a stranger sitting across from you on the public bus or train. The sunlight hit her hair and he couldn't take his eyes off suddenly. Maybe he saw her smiling and laughing with her friends, maybe she was rolling her eyes at them with her nose scrunched up just a little in faint judgement, maybe he can't even remember because while walking past in the hallway he had been so dumb-struck for a second he walked face first into an open locker door to Ivy's absolute confusion. (She does laugh at him mercilessly, even if he won't say why he walked into it.)

It's a moment of "I don't know you, you don't know me, but for one unfathomably long moment I wanted nothing more than to imagine a life lived that included basking near you and your smile every day until I die."

Unrealistic right? Just a passing stranger, this isn't a love story, it's an average Tuesday and Oisin has homework and an appointment with his party in the forest after school.

He gathers his bearings and moves on, and if his mind wanders back to the girl in the hall who had captivated him to lethal effect? Well it's a pleasant memory for him and he thinks that's allowed, right?

Except she's in his Glyph class two days later, he realizes, and suddenly that hallway moment of longing rushes back until his entire face is purple and he's trying not to stare at the occasionally stuttering but brilliant wizard girl two rows ahead in class.

1a. I think Oisin continued to take Glyph classes at first because he hoped she would too. Adaine doesn't, but Oisin continues because he is good at them and enjoys it and it's certainly easier to learn when he's not distracted in class 70% of the time.

2. As Oisin gets older, more and more of his dragonic nature becomes apparent. It's like a second puberty happening concurrently with normal puberty, which means it's a rollercoaster nightmare for him and the High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders.

2a. Dragons have hoards, but not all dragons hoard the same things, even within their own subclasses. Still, Oisin has quite a few gems and jewels in his fledgling hoard, despite not knowing what he most wants to hoard, and if his favorite gem just so happens to be one that reminds him of the shade of blue in a particular elven girl's eyes then-

2b. Oisin also has a deep fondness for rain and storms. He always knows if it's incoming even if it's not in the forecast. Something primal in him connects to the raging skies, for good or ill. It makes him feel confident and powerful. He also considers it very romantic. Unfortunately, Adaine gets so cross with him anytime she hears him predict a storm coming, even if he's talking to literally anyone else. (Adaine thinks Oisin is a storm himself, and if she is not careful she will be like the last Oracle and have forgotten to stock up on water breathing spells and drown in him amidst the storm of his being.)

2c. Dragons also hold great respect for power and prowess. Physical fights for hierarchy, play, or even courtship are very normal. For all that they are sentient brilliant beings, Dragons are still wild, untameable, primal things. This lurks underneath all of them, good or evil. Some are just more adept at hiding it. For courtship, this comes into play as sizing the other up. Both sides are looking to find out whether or not the other has any worth as a long term partner who would need to help guard the nest. Protecting eggs and hoards from greedy adventurers is serious business. There are reasons there aren't many truly ancient dragons. Too large a discrepancy in strength can sometimes be a turn off for the stronger one, so the most successful courtships are usually of similarly strong dragons, or at least, ones that put up enough of a fight despite the gap.

c1. Oisin, seeing the great accomplishments and prowess of Adaine Abernant over the course of Freshman year, feels a deep stirring even before he's rage-starred. He wants to fight her so badly, to sling magic and bloody teeth until the raging beast inside is sated. Naturally this scares him at first, and Oisin REFUSES to seek Adaine out to talk because of it, because the teen boy part of himself wants something kind, soft and tender between them, while the dragon making itself known as he ages wants to prove itself strong to her.

Later, he will tell himself this urge was ENTIRELY because he'd been on the path towards being contaminated-then-consumed with rage and wanted the Bad Kids dead. Absolutely not because it's the first step in traditional dragon courtship. He just wants to prove himself to her. He wants to feel for himself the confirmation of her renowned battle prowess. This is all for purely rival-related reasons, he tells himself. He is, perhaps, a bit of a liar.

3. Adaine's crush, not just her thinking he's cute but her actual legitimate crush on him, actually starts when the Rat Grinders are being redeemed post-Junior Year.

Like, she hates his GUTS. He made her feel belittled and stupid during Junior year, and yes they kicked his and his friends asses, but also now they just have to deal with them still being around. (Yes this is how they made friends with Ragh too, but they're petty.)

Except...so now they have to spend time together, maybe in classes maybe because Lucy loves her friends despite everything but is also now a friend of The Bad Kids. The former Rat Grinders are CLEARLY trying so hard to be better and kinder, but still the parties are mingling and there is tension but its also so fucking funny.

So Adaine and Oisin's interactions is just a montage of them being assholes to each other. Oisin can be polite and respectable, funny even, with everyone BUT Adaine apparently. Bickering about wizard things, taunting cutting words, and Adaine repeatedly trying to punch his smug face whenever he gets too close while gloating if he's right about something.

3a. Adaine literally tells Aelwyn that while she wants and needs kindness, she does acknowledge that it's messed up that she wishes someone was a little mean to her sometimes. This rivalry with Oisin is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!!!!!! (the monkey paw curls)

3b. The worst part, is no matter how much Adaine hates Oisin, is that it doesn't stop him from being attractive. Oh sure, she thinks he's an absolute asshole when he's sitting across from her in the library, but......

He's still absurdly tall, with large arms that are for more than just show. The conjuration tattoos are both practical and very pleasing to the eye, the almost electric blue of them a pleasing contrast to the softer blue shade of his scales.

The contradiction of those large round spectacles resting on his snout makes him look just dorky enough to go from being just another buff guy to being....well. Unfortunately, the glasses also do nothing to shield Adaine from the weight of his gaze.

When he looks at her with his full attention, behind those glasses are eyes of molten gold, and trained solely on her that gaze feels searing hot wherever it lands.

3c. Or perhaps, the worst part is she despises how he laughs. Sometimes, when she says something as clever as it is cutting, Oisin throws his head back just a little to laugh, bright and warm, all while his throat rumbles. It must be something draconic in nature, like a strong purr or distant rain clouds. It's much harder to get him to make that particular sound when he laughs, and the rumble feels unfairly like victory. Like she cracked the careful fascade he puts up to pretend like he's not a dragon.

The rumble also feels particularly reminiscent of butterflies in her stomach. (She elects to ignore this part.)

4. Oisin is a dragon, and he is a little obsessed with Adaine even if he doesn't dare to dream of going on an actual date with her after everything from the previous year. He cannot imagine a world where she would ever again believe him to be genuine in affection or intention towards romantic feelings. No instance of genuine fluster could ever be seen as anything but a clever ruse, he tells himself, he certainly wouldn't believe it if it was him.

But he's got her attention now, and he is possessive of that, of what he CAN get. Even if she hates his guts and pointblank threatens to kill him if he steps out of line-

Even if it's because she hates him, Oisin still has her eyes on him. Eyes like clear skies before the rolling storm, like they can pierce through everything he is and will ever be and know the truth of it.

Every conversation is like a battle, a verbal sparring that he TELLS himself is nothing at all like the courtship fights, but oh how sweet does it sound to his inner dragon. She could be cussing him out and he could feel like his heart would burst from his chest from the affection he feels, even as he riles her up further, until she slips into saccharine elven curses that he can practically taste on his forked tongue.

4a. Once he tosses back a clever jape in draconic at her. When she immediately starts in on him with the gutteral words of his native tongue, perfectly fluent but lilted ever so slightly like a refined melody, his tail accidentally knocks over a chair and his crest flares so strongly that he KNOWS his face must be more purple than a ripe plum. He's lost a battle and her laughter at the way he flees claiming he forgot something haunts him for days. He tries to get revenge by whispering things under his breath at her in Elvish, and her glare is divine, but it's so risky because she might just start talking to him draconic again and Oisin fears he could live a thousand years and still not be able to handle the sound of it when it falls from her lips.

a1. It's a lost cause. Adaine has a weakness now, and she wields it with all the precision she's developed on a battlefield. It's the cutest surest way to put him in his place, rile him up with the same burning fire that he seems so expert in stirring up in her. Oh he might try to argue back in draconic, or even throw a taunt out in Elvish, but he always stalks off first. (He makes the refined, posh but ancient language of Elvish sound like something Tracker would appreciate. He makes it sound ever so slightly wild, like something else is lurking behind all the refinery. Adaine is well practiced in steadying her breathing, and Oisin always cracks first.)

5. Everyone has seen these two bicker back and forth, and everyone knows trying to get them to stop or get between them means the two turn as a united front against whoever interrupted, and that's honestly worse.

5a. The Bad Kids and High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders have an ongoing bet amongst themselves on on if the two will snap and legitimately murder each other, or snap and start making out in the library. It's honestly way too elaborate of a betting system with odds changing all the time, but it is actually probably the most fun, non-tense bonding the two groups have together. They have also gone to GREAT LENGTHS to keep it secret from the two wizards, especially when one of them is the fucking ORACLE.

6. It's not all bickering and scathing words. Sometimes, when nobody else is around to see behind this precarious curtain...its soft and tender too.

6a. Sometimes, when Adaine is genuinely having a bad day and feels one wrong moment from truly snapping, she feels the magic of a conjured summon passing by whatever table or nook she stowed herself away to hide in. The smell of arcane-tinted petrichor lingers afterwards, and settled nearby is a warm drink that hadn't been there before. Sometimes its tea's she's fond of, sometimes a warm peppermint mocha from her favorite coffee place downtown. Against her better judgement, she is increasingly fond of the smell of rain. 6b. Sometimes, the rage feels like it never left Oisin's body. It burns him inside and out, and he's so exhausted fighting back these aftershocks. He is trying every day to make up for what he's done, but the feeling of unbridled rage haunts him. To indulge is to fail, fall off the wagon, and he will not falter, even if he squeezes his hands so tightly they bleed beneath his claws. A message cantrip blooms to life in his mind. Melodic, lilted draconic, giving not words of comfort, but familiar unafraid taunts. It's a challenge, he knows it, and somehow that makes it easier, rage giving way to fondness and the desire to prove himself. 6c. There are more late nights in libraries and sitting close at tables in out of the way restaurants working on difficult projects then either would ever let anyone know, not that they let anyone know of them at all. It's quiet honest conversations over dusty tomes and scattered papers. (They couldn't know how to make the most cutting of remarks if they knew nothing about each other, after all.) a1. Its Oisin, laying his head down in his arms over the library table, eyes watching her sitting next to him with hair falling in her face like it always does when shes bent forward focusing intently on her work. There are many, many times when Oisin does nothing but watch in silence. Sometimes, rarely, when its late and nobody will come by except to kick them out- He reaches a claw to gingerly tuck the silken gold hair behind the bright red ear of a girl who doesn't say anything about it, before he looks away entirely, trying to ignore the way he can feel his crest fluttering up and down as it seemingly contemplates flaring out.

a2. It's Adaine, rolling her eyes with no heat, as she steps into his personal space and is enveloped in the smell of petrichor. Calloused fingers lingering on rough scales as she ever so gently corrects a stance or spell casting motion that the unfairly tall dragonborn boy next to her had been working on perfecting.

The both know she doesn't have to be so close for this, that another demonstration from beside him would work just fine. He doesn't have to bend ever so slightly, dip his long draconian neck down so he can better hear her murmured words either, so close they can feel the heat of the others breath. He casts the spell perfectly, and Adaine steps back out to a respectable distance, and neither of them say anything about it.

7. Neither of them ever mention any of it. It feels taboo, like the triggering of a spell that will destroy both of them. The fighting, the bickering, the cutting words and sharp swords aimed at jugulars? That's easy, that's familiar and safe. It's what's supposed to happen between them, safe territory they can walk with eyes closed. It's the tenderness that's hard. It's the yearning and soft touches aborted at the last moment-

This is what would be their ruin, and the threat of it lingers above them, rolling clouds heavy with rain that just wont fall. Days, weeks, months pass by and they do not mention it.

8. Adaine, flush with Oracle-sure certainty, gestures for Oisin to slow down, to bend down low so she can tell him something. He protests, its about to rain any second and really Abernant, they're going to be late- Adaine kisses Oisin first, soft and sure as her hands cradle his scaled jaw, just as the dark clouds above them break open.

The kiss tastes like rain, and the loud, pleased rumble in her ears certainly isn't from the storm coming down on them.

#IM ABSOLUTELY NORMAL aslfjuhbalefjbna #this got TOO LONG #I WASNT SUPPOSED TO WRITE FIC WHEN ANSWERING THIS #anyway blah blah blah the poetic nature of the elven oracle falling in love with a storm dragon #gosh i'm gonna have to restructure this for ao3 uuuuuug #if anyone is trying to clock where I'm self projecting from my own previous crushes #You Don't See Anything Shut Up #adaine x oisin #inkblade #adaine abernant #oisin hakinvar #fhjy #fhjy fanfic #oisaine

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ssaahthings · 7 months

Text

I aimed to help you, in return you helped me too. (Reciprocity)

Sometimes you noticed when things were off with Hotch, it seemed like a glitch in his armor. Specifically moments when you would hand him his coffee if it was out of reach, as he would move around any table the team was working at; walking and thinking. Your fingers would brush and his grip would tighten. It happened when you would squeeze by to step into the elevator at the office in Quantico, arms brush by, and he would freeze. It was never a noticeable thing, if anything it was only retrospectively apparent in those moments.

When it became clear to you, that he was likely touch starved, was when you needed to hold on to his arm to balance yourself because you had a rock stuck in your shoe; you felt his bicep flex under your fingers and heard his breath hitch yet when you casted a glance up at him he was focused on the squad cars parked in front of the crime scene you were needed at, your interest was piqued then.

After that you began noticing he would never partake in the physical camaraderie; Emily would hug and lean on JJ, Morgan would ruffle Reid's hair as he passed the genius and throw an arm around Penelope when she joined them from her office, and Rossi would pat their backs in a paternal manner when he spoke to them. Sure he had Jack, to hug and cuddle with but you deemed it was different with a father-son relationship, he most likely thought he was giving his son what he needed. Aaron Hotchner is selfless like that, one of the reasons you love him as much as you do.

For a while it was all observations and your heightened sense to notice patterns, especially when it was regarding the man himself.

You were already having a bad day today, the team had made a miscalculated judgement based on the competency of the officers in the local precinct, who were also ridiculing you as well as the whole of the team, but because of the past days, past week, past month it hit you harder than the rest of your coworkers. It's not like you don't know you can go to them with your troubles, considering they're also your closest friends, it's just hard to paraphrase it in a way that would make sense. It felt like everyone was going through something this time of year, but with the jobs you all had, there wasn't much else to do but move onward.

So here you were, standing next to Hotch who was holding a piece of gauze to his forehead from where the unsub's submissive partner, the team had failed to profile, struck him from trying to save the offender you were after. Your eyes roamed his face, his arms, his chest cataloging to make sure he wasn't harmed anywhere else. When you heard the paramedic say he didn't need to go into the hospital you sighed in relief and took some of the fresh pieces of bandages that had been placed beside him and offered to take over cleaning and bandaging him up, making sure he was okay.

"Y/N, you know you don't have to do this." You heard Hotch mumble, seemingly far away but still alert enough to be aware of his surroundings, always on guard like that.

You nod and smile softly and you say, "I know, but it's making me feel better to take care of you right now." You finish cleaning off the blood from his face, gently press the ends of the butterfly bandage in place, "There, good as new." You let him know you were done, squeezing his arm for nonverbal punctuation.

You notice again that he tenses and avoids your gaze, "Hotch? Are you okay?"

"Aaron?"

Still no response, you think back to when he got injured and you don't remember his arm being hurt, so then you start to remember all the other times he's tensed up and you remember all the evidence that leads to him being touch starved, you remember the time you had to physically lean on him for support.

But by the time you're ready to do something about it, he's already assigning tasks to the team and then it's back to the hotel. You have to stop by the precinct to wrap up and grab your work and personal belongings when you overhear some officer make a snide comment about you and your team, it puts you on edge and in order not to make things more complicated you keep quiet and leave for the hotel.

You're quiet and they all notice it, they see how your shoulders are tense and that you're not joining in on the conversation, and you fail to hear the others making plans for dinner or to notice how Hotch is acutely observing you, trying to piece together why you're feeling the way you are in that moment.

His room is on the same floor as yours, across from yours even, so when you walk up to your room and just stand there, Hotch is watching you from the doorway of his. He takes a step forward leaving the door open, observing you.

"Y/N?" Aaron spoke softly as to not disturb the quietness of the hallway.

You turned around and looked at him, he seemed to be concerned. "Hmm?"

"Are you okay? You've been off since we got back to P.D." His voice tender, eyes shining under the lights.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine, Hotch. Don't worry about me." You wave him off unconvincingly.

"You sure? Because you could come in and we can order room service for dinner, the others already left. You could consider it making things even for you patching me up." He vaguely gestures to his head.

That amuses you, so you smile and agree, crossing the way into his room, looking it over your eyes fall on the open windows on the opposite side, "You got a really nice view of the city, I just face the nextdoor building." You sigh dramatically, side eyeing him so he knows you're just teasing.

"Yeah, but I'm sure it's a great building." He retorts, "What would you like to eat?" holding the phone and menu card in his hand

"I think we've eaten enough around each other for you to know what my preferences are." You turn to face him, with a brow raised.

He huffs out a laugh and nods your way, afterwards placing your dinner order. It was a timid sense of normalcy, forgetting what the day trailed behind the two of you, your nerves come back so abruptly it it feels like a force knocked a breath out of you, and of course he notices it. He notices you.

"Y/N... I'm here if you want to talk about what happened. I noticed that you seemed a bit shaken up after we came back." He comments while moving to stand before you, the sincerity in his eyes gives you the illusion of making them brighter, and your heart clenches for him in affection.

"It's just... been a tough day, Hotch." You confess, keeping your eyes wide in order to combat the stinging behind them that you know means you'll start crying soon, "at first it was one of those days, you know? The kind that you just go through the motions, but ultimately you're alright in the end. And then I had to deal with those officers, they belittled me so much but I know with this job and being on this team, we have a duty to a sense of professionalism, so I kept my mouth shut, reserved. And then you-" You blinked and a rogue tear escaped, keeping your eyes closed for a moment while you let out a hushed, "I was so scared when I saw you get hit... It was hard to focus because I needed to make sure you were okay but we also had a job to do."

Your eyes begin to sting further with oncoming unshed tears, blinking rapidly to fight the sensation and giving up the fight to falsely show your resolve. With your view downcast you noticed one of Aaron's tells for when he was contemplating something; his thumb would move up and down his index and middle fingers. Up and down two times, switch, up and down two times more. Your mind begins to race, what could the eloquent Aaron Hotchner be contemplating saying or doing in front of, or to you.

Whatever it was you looked up and locked eyes with him, something unspoken passed and all you could do was nod your head minutely. Standing still, allowing him to make the steps to come to you, and to wrap his arms around you. One around your shoulders, and the other around your waist. You laid your head on his shoulder, face tucked between the crisp fabric of his shirt and the soft skin of his jawline. You took a deep breath, and wrapped your arms around him in return. Sliding your palms from his midsection, feeling the muscles ripple in their wake, to then connect your hands together in a lock.

"It's okay to asked to be touched, you know." He startles at the sound of your voice.

"I... It's been a while. Not since..." He trails off, knowing you would understand.

"I know, but it's okay, Aaron."

"How come you're the one comforting me now, I was supposed to be consoling you."

"Well, that's what partners do right? An equal give and take for what's needed," You inquire, "And don't think I didn't notice the subtle topic change, Mister."

"Oh we're partners, now?" He says playfully, giving your side a squeeze in further acknowledgement of what you said.

"Well yeah, I mean..." Trailing off when you feel a soft press of his lips to your temple, "Oh..." You breathe out.

"I was teasing you, Honey." He says with a chuckle. Clearing his throat he begins, "You know, I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to feel so much again, for someone, for you. Everyday I see you at the office in the bullpen, or in a precinct when we're away, or if I'm lucky enough to see you sleepy in hotels. Y/N, it feels like a second chance I'm not certain that I deserve."

You move to pull away, so you can look at him in his eyes when you say the words you heard unspoken, but his arms tightened around you, you smiled brightly.

"Aaron, love," You give him a squeeze for emphasis, he viscerally reacts to the term of endearment "I think we all deserve a second chance in life, in love."

After you're able to step back enough to press a kiss to his cheek, right where it meets the corner of his mouth. He gives you the privilege to see his blinding smile.

fyi: it's been a little while since i've written anything like at all but !!! i'm trying my best now to get to writing and post things because it's one of my favorite things to do ❤

this is for: @greg-montgomery @criminalskies @htchnr @ssahotchnerr

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #i haven't written anything in ages help me #oh this is also friends to lovers #clingy!aaron #touch starved aaron #for rome 🌱#for fay 🌸#for katie 🤍#for aurora 💫#post ep 100 #aaron hotchner x reader #safe for gender neutral readers #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #or #aaron hotchner x female reader #or even #aaron hotchner x male reader

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korikokorin · 5 months

Text

Fluff

Angel Dust headcanon/ scenario

Huskerdust

Warnings: mild swearing

Picture by: I make art ヽ⁠༼⁠⁰⁠o⁠⁰⁠；⁠༽⁠ノ?! obsessed with this scene and this song

Note: I can't stop thinking abt that look angel gave husk during the last episode so here's a little something hehe

The flirting started as a joke.

Husk was always so grumpy and gruff. Annoying him was fun.

When Angel flirted with him for the first time and he got all agressive and hissy— Husk truly looked like a grumpy old cat and Angel? He found it amusing.

So he had a little fun.

After work he'd walk up to the bar, order a drink, and flirt with him. He'd get to see Husk squirm and grumble and he'd get a good laugh out of it.

Everyday.

But then days turned into a weeks and…

Well…

Angel got too comfortable. At least, that's what he figured happened. He'd spilled his guts to Husk just one too many times and now?

Now he's started giving him advice. Now he thinks he knows enough to start butting into Angel's business.

Fucking bartenders.

Flirting went from a joke to a distraction.

Husk's words hitting a little too close to home?

Flirt.

Husk looking too deeply past his facade?

Flirt.

Husk remembering bits and peices from their old conversations…

Flirt.

Remembering his favorite cocktails; knowing which one he needs when he needs it…

Flirt.

Husk listening. Just listening and looking right into his eyes without a shred of disdain or judgement. Even saying the sweetest things sometimes…

Flirt.

It came to a point that he couldn't deny it anymore.

The flirting went from distracting husk to distracting himself.

Then husk called him out.

And Angel got scared.

So he got angry.

And when Husk told him to cut the shit because it wasn't ever gonna work on him? That?

That fucking hurt.

And then Husk had to come and try to help him? Had to cut him deep, bleed him out, and then somehow patch him up with the most stupidly sweet words and the damn cozy comforting presence that he is?

Fuck it.

He used to say “I need you.” to hide how much he was breaking, and now?

Now, he let Husk see how he was breaking, see how much he struggled and cried. He let the world see himself, if only to hide from Husk how much he wanted to say “I need you.”

“Eh. You fuck one cannibal pool boy, you've fucked ‘em all.”

“Wow, guess you have changed.”

“Hey, Charlie said live however we want to tonight.”

Angel paused.

No, not today.

“So pour me a new one and let's get to livin’!”

Angel watched as Husk turned his back to him to pour him another drink, his deep voice shaking his shoulders as he chuckled making Angel feel that warmth rise in his heart again.

Somehow the back of this man— despite his actual stature— felt so much bigger and stronger than it looked.

It was grounding.

Which is probably why Angel was falling so hard.

#・┆✦ʚ korikokorin's in the light ɞ✦ ┆・#fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin spoilers #hazbin husk #huskerdust

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buckyalpine · 2 years

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I have a request!!!!

Can you do a Bucky barnes x female reader angst based on Call out my name by weekend.....

Like Bucky and reader used to date and reader have been with Bucky in ugly times but he leaves her for someone else...

But reader having a happy ending and Bucky regretting........

By your big fan 🌝

18+ minors dni

Ex bucky x reader, destroyer chris x reader

That song is sexy as hell. I know this isn't straight up cheating but this smells of Bucket to me. sigh. Okay. Here we go.

You really have been with him through everything. The absolute worst of times, holding him, cradling him, loving him through every nightmare, every breakdown, talking him through every insecurity he feels. You are his safe place, the one place he can cry and sob and be himself with no judgement.

You run your fingers through his hair while rocking him close to your body each night, deprived of sleep just like him but you'd never let him suffer alone.

Until.

He claims he needs a fresh start. The more he's with you, the more he remembers the dark sides of his past. You're special, but you remind him of every moment of weakness he's had. You don't remind him of happiness and hope. When he sees you, he sees the place he goes to cry and he doesn't want that anymore.

He just can't see a future with you.

It's over.

You're struggling to keep it together, your heart in pieces while he's flourishing, learning how to love himself now and be more independent. It's hardly been a few weeks until he has a new girl around. He thinks he's found happiness, there's a part of him that feels oddly hollow. There's something missing. He brushes it off because it'll pass and he's dating someone new anyway. She looks very much like you but that's where the similarities end. He learns that very quickly.

She's not sweet like you.

Not patient like you.

Not loving like you.

Not beautiful like you.

She's not you.

Bucky realizes his mistake very quickly, whatever stupid reasons he had for wanting to break up make 0 sense, he understands that now. He tries to have a conversation with you but it's impossible with the team standing in the way each time he comes by your room. Steve hasn't punched Bucky yet but he's very close to hitting him on the head with his shield if he comes to you one more time.

Bucky went looking for you in every girl he came across and it was never the same. You're all he can think of, and it doesn't stop him from calling you for. You can hear his cries at night, your name falling from his lips when he has a nightmare. He's whimpering and crying, he needs you back, he's so scared but he can't do anything about it, he made his choice when he left you.

He calls you for even when he shouldn't.

"Y/n..."

"What the fuck?!"

"I-

Bucky doesn't even bother correcting himself, simply getting off his newest hookup and putting his clothes back on. He doesn't even hear her screaming at him, truthfully he doesn't care, he can just think of you. He wants to call for you, he wants to be wrapped in your warmth, coming undone for you, making you feel good but it never happens.

When he sees you in Chris's arms, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Your new boyfriend won't let Bucky go near you with a 10 foot pole. He treats you like a princess. Just like you deserve. He's protective over you. He's always by your side.

"I love you sugar" He has you on his motorbike, parked outside the compound, his arms around your waist, trailing kisses down your face to your neck. "My pretty girl"

Bucky freezes seeing you both, seething watching the way his hands are stroking your waist, the waist he used to hold onto, the place only he used to be allowed to touch. When you see Bucky, your heart races. Anxiety takes over. You love your boyfriend but you can't help the new fear that has clouded your brain, a part of you is always scared he might leave just like...

"Baby, look at me" He breaks you out of your trance, his thumbs wiping away the tears you didn't even notice spill down your cheeks. "Sweet heart, I'm here" He holds you close to his chest, he knows everything that happened and he's ready to be patient with you and show you exactly how you deserved to be loved. "It's okay baby, m'not going anywhere"

Bucky hates himself even more because not only did he hurt you but you now also feared people would leave you without warning, just like him. He wants you back, every single day but it never happens.

***

Nothing gets easier, even though a part of him is happy to see you doing better. Much better. You're smiling, laughing, surrounded by the team while you look open presents, giggling at the cute little onsies and baby toys the team has brought for the baby shower. Tony got your little one a tiny custom leather jacket to match his dad. There's a set of tiny silver rings. There are way more toy motorcycles than toy cars.

You're in your own world now, with your husband, a little baby on the way.

The pain he's feeling couldn't be worse.

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tsukimefuku · 2 months

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fixing broken things ❖ nanami kento

summary: after you realize that everything you were taking care of just wound up crooked anyway, you're pissed and needs a helping hand in order to not let the anger get the better of you.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer and kind of gardener f!reader, gardening, light nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, nanami is very kind in his own way, hurt and comfort, some angst, some fluff.

wc: 1K

notes etc.: if you feel like reading a prequel to this, here's crooked gardening. i just randomly had the idea for this one and decided to jot it down. it's barely proofread. wrote it to the sound of we're all eating each other/the thing of life (juliet ivy)

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

You were pissed. There was no sugar-coating it.

Many of the sprouts on the flower bed you planted a while ago had their skewers pulled out or broken — apparently by accident, or from people stepping on them without meaning to — and that would take a huge time to fix.

You remembered the talk you had with Higuruma — you were back to calling him by his last name, at least for these past few days right after his departure — where you told him you were good at fixing crooked things.

What a joke.

If you really were, would he have left?

Mindlessly, you conjured one of your grenades, and considered for a moment exploding the entire flowerbed out of pure spite and anger. The unexplainable urge of destroying something, and repay the unending pain the world seemed hellbent in dropping over your shoulders.

Just another pointless heartache to carry around, as if you didn't have enough of those already.

You got your hand closer to the flowerbed, but before dropping the tiny grenade, you realized there was an invisible veil you simply couldn't rupture.

There was no crossing it, your body was preventing you from going beyond that imaginary line and blowing up a bunch of flowers you planted and nurtured yourself with such care, even if it were to plant new ones in their place.

There was no escaping the roots that had already taken hold.

"Good afternoon," you heard an already familiar voice say behind you. "Why are you holding one of your grenades?"

Sighing, you dissipated it, patting your hands on your pants to clean them from the dirt.

"I… I don't know, Nanami," you replied bitterly as you stood up.

He knew Higuruma left a few days ago, having talked to the sorcerer himself, and noticed you were obviously still processing his departure. Respectful as he was, Nanami avoided contacting you to offer assistance — he knew that, in case you did want it, you'd talk to him first. You were the type of person who usually needed some space and alone time to process things.

But at that moment, Nanami became slightly concerned, seeing you using your cursed technique at the HQ premises, given it had quite the destructive potential.

You turned on your heels and stomped your feet towards the nearest bench, sitting on it with a sour face. Your arms were crossed, and your anger kept building up with no relief. If only you could find it in yourself to blow up, at least this fucking once.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize that Nanami sat by your side.

He looked at his wristwatch and sighed before speaking.

"I have exactly 17 minutes before leaving for my next mission."

And then, there he stood, impassively waiting for you to speak up about what was going on.

"I wanted to blow up that flower bed."

He looked at you, and inquired, with no judgement in his voice, "why?"

"Because… Because some flowers are crooked, and I planted them, and I'm fucking supposed to be good at fixing crooked things, but fuck me, I guess I'm just… I don't know, Nanami. I don't fucking know," you blurted out, equal parts bitter and defeated. "I wanted to just destroy them and plant something else in their place."

"I see."

"Well, apparently, I'm not even good at doing that, because I couldn't do it. I just… couldn't."

"Why do you think that is?" He asked you, pushing his glasses into position.

"I have no idea," you spat, "do you have any? I could do with some enlightenment, or lecture, or whatever the hell you could throw at me right now. I'm tired of people leav…" you thought for a moment. "No, I guess that's it. I'm tired of people."

He huffed.

"People can be tiring."

"Yeah…" you were feeling a little less out of sorts, and the sadness began taking hold of the anger's place. "So, why couldn't I destroy anything?"

"You couldn't do it because you're not someone who breaks things."

You were a little puzzled, and said, "Nanami, my technique is literally casting grenades to blow things up. I'm pretty good at that — breaking and destroying things, I mean."

Nanami sighed and removed his glasses, turning his face to look at you.

"Not only that. You're also capable of applying reverse cursed technique on other people, so you carry both within you. The potential for breaking and for fixing."

You huffed, and looked at your feet as you asked, imitating his usual voice cadence, "is that so?"

"It is. But not only that. Your rage rarely pulls you down. It pushes you forward."

"What do you mean?"

You looked back at him at that moment.

"When your parents left, or when you lost people close to you, and when you were at that village. These were the many instances where you could have simply given up, but you chose to preserve your family legacy, to become a healer and to save a child. For a sorcerer that deals with negativity and death on a daily basis, you choose to bring out the best from the worst instead."

You were silent, taking in what Nanami was saying, and he proceeded.

"As it stands to reason, you wouldn’t use your pain or anger to destroy anything. You’d use it as fuel."

"For what?"

"Keep fixing broken things."

You huffed, an almost chuckle.

"Thanks for the compliments, I guess."

"Those weren't compliments, I simply stated facts," he answered, putting his glasses back on.

You acquiesced.

"Yeah, forgot you did that."

You got up on your feet and stood there for a moment, before turning towards him and saying, "thank you, Nanami."

He bowed his head, and got up himself.

"See you around?"

"See you around," he replied, sparing you a discreet smile before walking away.

You stepped towards the flower bed and looked at it, fully aware that just bursting everything away and starting from scratch would be easier. However, you sat on the ground and started pulling the broken skewers off, determined to put new ones in place, realizing this would take a lot of effort and time.

Grunting, you began mumbling to yourself, displeased and somewhat happily defeated for the first time in days.

Fucking Nanami, always fucking right about fucking things.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu fluff #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #kento x reader #jujutsu partners au #fuku writes

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thealchemistbae · 2 years

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PAC: About Your Future Spouse ❤️‍🔥

Hello, my Alchemist Babes ❤️‍🔥 This pick a card reading is going to tell you about your future spouse, such as their personality, characteristics and their potential careers etc. Also, keep in mind that this is a COLLECTIVE reading so it may or may not be for you. Anyways, I’m The Alchemist Bae and I am an experienced intuitive tarot reader that provides the upmost guidance/clarity to those who need it. I don’t sugarcoat and with my Mercury in Aries; I am very direct and straightforward. I am NOT responsible for any actions you take from my readings whether they are pick a card readings or personal readings. You have free will and are accountable for your own decisions/actions.

Disclaimer: These images do not belong to me. I have gathered these images from Pinterest. This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Please do not make any life changing decisions in regards to this reading; only on your behalf and not mine. This is a collective reading so don’t try to force what doesn’t resonate. If you are looking for something more personal, message me about my services.

Book a reading with me 🔥

How to pick a card: Close your eyes and take 3 deep breaths. Whenever you are ready, open your eyes and pick the image that you are more drawn to. If you are drawn to more than one, feel free to read those piles and use discernment on what parts of the readings you resonate with.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

❤️‍🔥 PILE 1:

Cards Pulled: Judgement, Four of Swords, Seven of Cups, The Sun

❤️‍🔥: Your future spouse is an assertive person and a leader with a clear vision. This person doesn’t usually second guess themself and always open to new perspectives and different pathways to get to their desired destination. This person is quite introspective and likes to self assess their past and current behaviors and habits. They acknowledge their past mistakes and always tries to make their selves a better person. Your future spouse may have gone through some major transformations or life changing events in their life which has opened up a new side to them. They had a wake up call/awakening that has truly brung about changes , yet positive changes into their life. They are always up to date and looking for unforgettable moments to experience. They always remember what happened to them in the past but prefer to live life openly and confidently in the future. They are always changing so you must be open to change and accept their transformative ways. They seem to like to be isolated a lot or requires a good amount of space. They may like to take vacations or could also like to sleep a lot. This person is very calm and non-confrontational. Through experiences, they have learned to get along with many different personalities and therefore make great friends and partners. It’s hard to get under your FS skin. They know how to keep their composure and try to always find solutions. If you are into that toxic type of love, trust this person will change all of that or it’s possible you need to choose another pile lol because this person is NOT having none of that. This person may daydream a lot or can always be detached from reality at times. They are a wishful thinker but can tend to be blind to red flags or illusions that they create in their mind. This person loves to fall in love but tend to fall more so in the fantasy of what they feel love is and not seeing things for what they truly are. But overall, this person seems pretty positive and has a positive outlook on things. Definitely is vibrant and lively and a overall happy person.

Characteristics: Bold, confident, lively, firm, versatile, calm, non-violent, soft-spoken, quiet, imaginative, average height 5’8” - 5’9” ( male ) 5’5” 5’6” ( women), curly hair, beard(male), slightly chubby, glasses for some, piercings, tattoos. Fire Sign ( Leo ) , Water Sign ( Pisces, Cancer ) Air Sign ( Libra, Aquarius), yoga instructor, web designer, technician , manager, veterinarian, nurse

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you. ❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 PILE 2:

Cards Pulled: The World, Seven of Swords, King of Pentacles, Wheel of Fortune

❤️‍🔥: Your future spouse is someone who sees the bigger picture and understands how the Universe works. They are very wise and scholarly. They are someone with substance and are not afraid to put in the efforts and get their hands dirty. They are hard workers who tend to get promoted quite quickly or advance in their career very fast as well. This person is quite confident and have a positive attitude. They may love to travel the world or their job may consist of traveling. They are very adventurous people. This person is well educated and can be relied upon or trusted. I’m seeing a downside to this person though. They are very sneaky / secretive so either the relationship will be kept under wraps or you just won’t know everything about this person. This person is quite clever, ambitious and daring but not stupid. This is the type of person that will always be 10 steps ahead. This person may have a hard time with dealing with obligations and responsibilities or just seems to run away from their problems preferably through work or study. This person may tend to take the easy way out of things and hides from the truth. I do see that this person is very strategic though and may like to do things alone or be alone at times. This person definitely keeps their plans secret. They may try to run away from a lot of things or situations that they would rather not deal with. But hey, everybody has their pros and cons. Your future spouse is very financially abundant; well off/wealthy. They definitely worked their behinds off to build such a stable foundation. This person is quite successful and has a great work ethic. They are good with both money and people. They are good in business, patient, stable , secure and a hard worker. This person will definitely go the extra mile with you. But working may be a priority for them so keep that in mind. Your person is highly intuitive and has an expanded awareness. They can be risk takers who are willing to gamble with life in hopes of being lucky. Though this person tends to attract love pretty easily. This person is a true chameleon , always changing and evolving. You can expect alot of expansion in different areas with this person.

Characteristics: Wise, confident, dependable , reliable, protective, generous, strategic, sneaky, secretive, hardworking, lucky, fortunate, wealthy, successful, expansive, loving, emotionally available Earth Sign ( Taurus, Capricorn ) Air Sign ( Aquarius, Libra ) Fire Sign ( Leo, Sagittarius ), tall, fit built, black/brown hair, hazel eyes , brown eyes, lean/slim, dimples, Entrepreneur, Crypto investor, own business, developer , constructor, Angel investor.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you. ❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 PILE 3:

Cards Pulled: Five of Swords, Knight of Cups, Page of Wands, Eight of Pentacles

❤️‍🔥: Your future spouse is a rough and tough person with a competitive mentality who wants to win at all cost. Take from that which you may 👀. This can be considered a bully attribute perhaps not with you but with others. Please keep that in mind. This person can be quite a handful and this can very much so be an inner battle within this person. This person can be quite manipulative and conflict-driven. I’m definitely seeing possessive and jealousy issues here. So expect to be only for them and them only. I definitely would pay close attention to that. This person may tend to be in the middle of conflict or drama and they may be uncomfortable when competition steps at their doorstep. You should never put this person in a position where they will have to compete for you and your love. Again, take this information as you please. This person has a mentality of “ get others, or others will get them” . This person feels like people are always out to get them. This person knows how to use people’s weaknesses against them. I’m sorry but it’s giving NARCISSISTIC. On a brighter note, this person is good with their words, witty and intellectual. But I’m seeing that this person might LOVE BOMB you. They are hopeless romantics but only for their own pleasures… not for you… Honestly I would steer clear from this person .. this could be someone you already know . This person knows the right things to say and the right things to do and that fits into their game of manipulation. I’m seeing a very adventurous but childish energy here. This is someone who is not ready for commitment and it’s very possible that cheating can be at bay. I’m more concerned on why you are attracting an individual like this Pile 4. But not everyone is perfect and sometimes we tend to run into those bad apples. I do see that this person is a hard worker , always perfecting their craft and reaping the benefits of doing so. They are goal oriented people and rarely ever procrastinate. Your future spouse is someone who knows how to get stuff done. A relationship with this person is definitely a hell of a ride. Prepare for the thrill because there is always some tricks up this person’s sleeve. I’m seeing more lust than love coming from this connection. For those who chose this pile, please pay attention to the red flags and avoid this person. Typing this has literally got me sick to my stomach. It’s time for you to step out your comfort zone and leave the “bad boy” type alone because trust.. you will get your heart broken many times until you start truly knowing your worth and letting go of these type of people. Good luck. 🫠

Characteristics: Narcissistic, manipulative , goal-oriented, egotistic, adventurous , childish, Water Sign ( Scorpio, Pisces), Air Sign (Aquarius), Fire Sign ( Aries, Sagittarius), Earth Sign ( Virgo) tattoos, neat, wavy hair, muscular, thin, professional, CEO, financial advisor, banker, corporate, firefighter, doctor, fitness instructor

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you. ❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 PILE 4:

Cards Pulled: Four of Cups, Five of Pentacles, The Star, Five of Wands

❤️‍🔥: Your future spouse may struggle with being discontent and stagnant in life. They are not very optimistic which can lead them to missing out on many opportunities. This person is quite unmotivated and may need an extra push to pursue after their goals and happiness. This could very much be their current energy right now where they are in a stage in their life where things aren’t sunshine and rainbows. But the good thing about this, is that this can change and they can evolve from this. They may be too focused on what is not working out for them rather than appreciating and focusing on all the good that they have. They may have a tendency of never being satisfied. Though they do feel very alone in this world and can be quite pessimistic , they are still pretty hopeful people and have a bit of faith that things can change which is their driving force to keep pushing as of now. This may be a depressed individual and someone who may have fear of abandonment issues. This person tends to feel like an outsider and may always seem to be in a bit of a crisis. This is someone who feels as if they are always on the back end and their luck is out of reach. This person feels as though something vital is missing in their life, but they do not know how to change it. Your person is often overwhelmed and requires help from others to stay afloat. This could stem alot of negative emotions amongst this person.. like anger, sadness etc. You just might be the light at the end of the tunnel for this person though. They definitely had a hard life but I do see that this person will come out on the other end with great hope and determination. It just will take time and faith. This person is quite gentle, magnetic and creative. This person isn’t afraid to be vulnerable. Your future spouse is willing to be open and will share their feelings often. This person is quite dreamy and romantic. They possibly get lost into their own world/bubble since that’s the only way they truly feel safe. They are highly sensitive to the needs of others and will strive to satisfy others’ needs before their own. They just are very nice people despite their challenges. No matter what life has thrown at them , they still want to be a light to others even if they struggle to do that for themselves. This person is a lost soul who a searching for themselves and for meaning in life. I do see low self esteem and they constantly doubt themselves but they will keep pushing even with the world on their shoulders. Apart of them , has hope and that hope is what’s keeping them here. They have big hearts and are quite compassionate.

Characteristics: Intelligent, gentle, hopeless romantic, humanitarian, compassionate, big-heartedness. Fire Sign ( Leo ) , Air Sign ( Aquarius ), Earth Sign ( Taurus) , Water Sign ( Cancer ), caramel skin-tone, long hair , curly/wavy hair, freckles, brown eyes, manager, dog Walker, chef, Uber driver, cashier/waiter, artist, songwriter.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at [email protected] or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you. ❤️‍🔥

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

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writingsfromhome · 1 year

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Things to Learn

Request: hiii idk if youve thought about this but what about a mean girl!yn and nerd!harry high school fic or something like that :))

A/N: it is what the request says, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but writing a mean girl!yn was different for me. I also wrote this from Harry’s third pov so that’s also different lol. Hope you enjoy it? Thanks for the req :) <3

———————————————

Harry hated girls like her. Hate was a strong word, he knew that. And he used it still.

He eyes her again as she sits on the lunch table and talks animatedly to her friends about something shallow or irrelevant. He goes back to the sandwich he had for lunch.

“She’s out of your league mate,” Harry’s best friend tells him.

“What?”

“YN? You’re staring at her. She’s out of your league. Like so far that even if you climbed a mountain and looked over everything you wouldn’t be able to see-“

“I got it,” Harry didn’t like her. He knew she was well out of his league and he didn’t care. He had one more year of this shite called high school and then he was off to uni. His sister always told him high school labels didn’t follow you there. “I don’t even like her. I was just looking.”

His friend makes a noise, he didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious. Ms. Easton partnered us in history probably because she’s not doing well. I’ve got the highest grade. But she’s insufferable.”

“You’re insufferable,” his friend shoots back. “If I was partnered with her I’d be shooting my shot. Every chance.”

“I’d rather shoot myself,” Harry mutters. He had history next period and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Their class had booked the library for research period and that meant suffering through it with YN.

He’s first to arrive at the library and books a computer. They were researching the royal family, he didn’t know what angle the paper was going to be from but he would figure it out later. Alone. Because YN was always too busy not giving a shit.

The truth was, he just didn’t understand girls like YN. How they could be so shallow and rude for no reason, he didn’t think the world was rainbows and unicorns but it was decent to just be a little nicer. She was judgemental, loud, and of course attractive as hell. But her personality ruined any good looks in his opinion. So even though he was staring at lunch, he didn’t find her very attractive.

“I guess we’re sitting here,” speak of the devil. Surprisingly YN is here before the bell goes off. She sits in the seat next to Harry and her bag is thrown on the floor.

“Hi to you too,” Harry mutters. He ignores her, continuing to flip through his textbook for the correct chapter.

“Have we decided on a topic?”

Harry grits his teeth. I don’t know YN have we? Instead he says, “No.”

“Oh, well why not just do it on what’s going on right now?”

“Because it’s a history class,” Harry finally look at her. He remembers it was a little nerve wracking to do that when they were first partnered but now his annoyance triumphed any nerves.

“And?” She scrunches her brows. “Isn’t that the point?”

She had no idea what she was talking about. He shakes his head and goes back to his textbook.

“You don’t have to be such a nerd all the time you know that?” She continues.

Harry ignores her.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. Who did she think she was?

“Can we just work?” Harry couldn’t stand her.

The bell rings. YN picks up her phone in a huff and Harry goes back to Googling for their project.

***

Harry packs his bag with the books he needs as students rush past him to go home. His bag weighed a million pounds and he’s pretty sure it aged his back 40 years but it was either his grades or his back that suffered.

“Hey Harry,” a voice calls out to him as we heads out the door. He turns to it; Raina, one of YN’s friends. She twirls her blonde hair and tilts her head. “It is Harry right?”

“Uhm,” suddenly Harry’s throat was parched. Raina was gorgeous and gorgeous girls never spoke to him.

“You’re cute,” she gets up close and personal with Harry and everything in that big brain of his liquifies and slides away. “So I heard you’re giving my bestie a hard time.”

“Your-uh,” what was wrong with him? Focus!

“My bestie! YN?”

“Oh,” the name snaps him out. Was this a prank, why was Raina talking to him? “W-what?”

“I thought you were smart,” she tilts her head again, this time Harry understands it to be condescending. “Did you not understand the question?”

Harry hears a snicker from behind him. His heart drops, he knew what was happening yet he walked right into it.

“Harry’s really smart,” YN’s voice comes from behind. “So smart he can’t even talk to me. Like, I’ll bring down your IQ or something right?”

“I never said that,” Harry turns, back to the wall like he was in some sort of fight for his life and he had to cover all his angles.

“Then what’s your problem?” YN demands. Her friend takes a back seat, staring at him from behind YN’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say I had one,” Harry mumbles.

“What? Speak up!” With one hand on her hip, YN was the image of a mean girl. Harry’s gaze flickers up to her face and he realizes she was actually angry. At him. He looks away.

“You’re so pathetic,” she tells him. “You can barely look me in the eye when I’m talking to you but you think you’re a hot shot just cuz you get straight As. You can take your intellectual superiority and shove it up your ass.”

He was surprised to hear her say intellectual superiority, then he realizes the irony of thinking that.

“This guy bothering you?”

Great. Harry hitches his backback higher on his shoulders. One of YN’s soccer star boyfriends had joined. He looks Harry up and down with a condescending smirk.

“No, I got it.” YN says but her friend opens her big mouth.

“He thinks he’s the smartest person here, he treats YN like shite.”

“Really?” He turns to Harry and now is when Harry realizes he was deep in. There was no way out.

“I’m sorry,” he looks YN in the eye and only her. He had to make a quick exit, find a way out of this before these meatheads decided to defend YN’s honour or something like that.

“Too late for sorry,” Raina says. Another guy—Brett joins the crowd.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Nothing,” YN says while her eyes stay on Harry.

“Hey Harry! Mate! This guy helped me pass my maths last semester.”

“Yeah he’s a nerd,” the other guy says to Brett. “That’s the point.”

“Hey Brett,” Harry nods. He should go, he thinks. Make a move. Get out of this circle forming around him.

“He’s a dick to YN,” Raina reminds everyone. What was her issue? “And he’s always staring at her like a creep.”

YN turns to look at her friend. Raina widens her eyes and shrugs.

“What the fuck?” The other guy, Harry had no idea what his name was, steps closer to Harry. “Are you a fucking perv?”

Statistically, this guy with his brute force and reactivity was probably more likely to be a perv over the years than Harry. But Harry doesn’t think it’s a good time to say that.

“Anyway,” YN says and with that all eyes are on her. “Apology not accepted. I’m over this let’s go.”

She walks away from him, Raina eyes him and follows. Their friend gives Harry the stink eye and follows too. Brett’s left. He shrugs and finally leaves Harry alone.

Little by little the breath comes back to his lungs and with shaky steps Harry exits the building. Some students lingering in the hall stare as he goes, probably the audience to what almost went down. And this was why Harry hated YN.

***

Over the next week Harry tries to be less intellectually superior to YN and practices looking her in the eye. He doesn’t know why it was so hard.

And it surprises him when the words coming out of her mouth aren’t entirely superficial and basic. But she continues to verbally abuse and belittle him and Harry continues to take it, his ire growing more by the day.

Just on Tuesday, at lunch she’d sent one of her boyfriends to sit at his table where he threatened Harry. Harry’s friend had stared at his phone the whole time, traitor. And yesterday YN had listed for him all the ways he could improve his appearance during class.

“Your hair could use a nice trim,” she tells him. “And your glasses are so 1970s. Like not in a trendy way. And honestly Harry why do you wear clothes that are too big and too old. Like seriously…”

It was hard not to be a know-it-all when that’s what she wanted to spend her time talking about.

“My appearance isn’t really a priority for me,” Harry had said hoping to shut her up.

“It really should be. Hey,” she’d called out to a friend of hers in class. “Don’t you think Harry’s style is sad?”

“Him?” Her friend had asked, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say it in front of him. Harry had burned with embarrassment. “Yeah I reckon he could use a makeover.”

“Yeah maybe then he’d get a girlfriend. Get his nose out of his books.”

They laughed and the sound was haunting. Harry stayed staring at his book, gritting his teeth. He’d never had a girlfriend, gone on two dates in his life. It didn’t usually bother him but somehow YN made it feel like an open wound.

On Thursday, they have another research period.

“And how are we doing here?” Ms. Easton leans down and balances on their table. Harry and YN opted for a table and books this period.

“Good,” YN sits up. “Just finishing our research.”

“Good,” Ms. Easton smiles. “Did you two decide on a topic?”

Harry doesn’t look but he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Harry wanted to do the royal family and their war legacy.”

“Hm.”

Harry was sensitive to feedback. When you’re smart you don’t get a lot of criticism, and when you do, it’s a hard pill to swallow. That’s why he was so sensitive to the tone of his teacher’s voice. He looks up to her. Was it just him or did she look a bit disappointed.

“S’not a good topic?” Harry asks. YN glances at him.

“Well,” the teacher crosses an arm over her abdomen and waves the other hand. She was choosing her words. “I was hoping putting the two of you together would produce an interesting project. Something out of the ordinary.”

“Oh.” Harry feels his grade flash in front of his eyes. Well, not flash but plummet.

“Hmph,” YN says in satisfaction. “Well Harry here felt very strongly about the topic.”

“Okay,” Ms. Easton pursues her lips. “It is a good topic. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it at the end of the month!”

As soon as their teacher is out of hearing range YN turns to Harry.

“I told you so.”

With that, she gets out of her seat and walks away. Out of the library, swiping the hall pass on her way out.

Suddenly he was hot. Very hot. Harry could feel the sweat dampen his shirt and he pulls the collar away from his neck. His project was disappointing? He was doing something wrong?

He stumbles up and finds Ms. Easton.

“Yes Harry?” She addresses him when she’s done with the pair she’d been talking to.

“Um what you said,” Harry clears his throat. “About the project. And pairing me with YN. I don’t understand…should we change it?”

“Up to you two to decide!” She says vaguely. “I can’t pick your topics for you. And you should only change it if you think you have enough time.”

“But our topic is disappointing?” Harry didn’t understand why Ms. Easton would make those comments and not just tell them upfront what she wants.

“No not at all!” she guides Harry to a bookshelf where it’s quieter. “War is a classic topic. But it’s also a very…straightforward topic do you understand?”

Classic was good. Classic was timeless, is that not what she wanted!?

“Harry,” she chides when he continues staring at her. “Listen. You’re a bright kid. Really, proper smart. I know you’ll do amazing in your future regardless of what I say in this class.”

It was YN. There was a but coming and she was going to say something about YN.

“But I’ve had a few bright kids in my class before. The thing about history is it repeats and the pattern I see is that there’s a creative energy even in something like history that’s lost on big brains like yours. That’s why I paired you with YN. I thought you two would complement the way you think really well. I was hoping to see a new topic come out of it. That’s not to say your current topic isn’t fabulous. I think if you want to continue with it, I’m excited to learn more.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say. Actually, he’s embarrassed. This whole time he thought being partnered with YN was because she was failing or doing horribly. When really it was because the teacher thought he could use some help. Intellectual superiority 100, Harry 0.

“You two are getting along right?” Ms. Easton probes.

“Yeah,” Harry lies.

“She’s letting you call the shots?” She asks casually.

“Ehm,” Harry wavers. He had taken the reigns immediately because he didn’t think she could handle them. He feels his face turn more pink.

“The great thing about this project is to collaborate. Throughout history some of the best things were brought from collaborating…”

Harry zones her out and looks back at their desk. YN is still not there. Maybe she was skipping. But he spots her bag, that wasn’t true.

“Oh I better go help out your classmate,” Ms. Easton points to where someone has their hand up. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry shakes the funk off. Maybe he’ll listen to YN more now but they only had a week and a half and it would be crazy to change their topic now.

But as he sits in his seat and waits for YN to return, to collaborate with, he feels it again. The sinking feeling. Like something was his fault.

YN was the mean girl but he hasn’t been the most friendly either.

After another 10 minutes go by he gets out of his seat and grabs the second hall pass.

He spots around the toilets, moves through the halls, and makes his way back to a stairwell. There YN leans against a wall on her phone. She doesn’t look up as he walks down until he stands in front of her.

“Oh,” the glow of her phone moves off her face, muffled by her sweater. “I thought you were random.”

“Are you coming back?” Harry asks. Still, his eyes flit from her face to her neck, settling on the wall behind her.

“Why does it matter? You’re doing the project with or without me.”

His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as he swallows. He should apologize. He should-

“Why are you so awkward for?” She demands. “Like. You’re smart and all but you’re kind of weird.”

Nevermind. He was so not apologizing.

“Hello? And then you go so quiet when I say anything direct. You can be smart as shite but you’re not making it anywhere if you can’t even talk to a girl without staring a hole into the space beside her.”

Harry’s mum always said to be himself. This was him, smart (nerdy—fine), quiet, awkward, and bookish. But it wasn’t easy to be this way when girls like YN existed. They were confident and loud, and she called him out like his sister did. But she was nothing like her. She was beautiful and she knew it. And she was rude, but maybe her mum told her to be herself too and this was it.

“What are you thinking?” She demands.

“What?” Harry asks in surprise.

“I want to know what the fuck you’re thinking in that big brain! You’re so awkward! Jeez!”

“I’m-I-why?”

“I don’t get you.” She gives him a once over. “So? What were you thinking?“

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously I-“

“Tell me.”

“I…” Harry trails away. He turns away from her and walks to the other end of the stairwell, pivots, and stands a few feet in front of her. “I was just wondering if this is who you really are.”

“Me? How am I?” Eyes narrowed, she sounds both curious and defensive.

“Really?” Harry meets her eye. “You’ve got such an attitude, you’re rude and loud and pushy, and I don’t know why you don’t like me but you’re always so condescending so I was just wondering if that’s who you are. Like when your mum says to be yourself, is that who you chose?”

Her mouth drops, then it snaps shut and her arms cross over in defence.

“You know why I don’t like you?” She asks. “Because you’ve got an attitude. You’re rude and pushy and condescending to fuck. So let me ask you—is that who you are? Is that who mummy tucks into bed each night?”

Harry’s impressed how she’s turned it around on him. He doesn’t take it seriously until she breaks eye contact and looks away.

“If I listened to my mom’s advice, I would be a bloody doormat in this place. I’d be used and discarded like a wet wipe. I have to be rude and pushy. And don’t even get me started on boys like you, who call girls pushy just because they know what they want. I can’t afford to be who I am, like you can, because I don’t have the privilege of being a bloke.”

They have a stare-off, mostly Harry is just surprised at everything coming out of her mouth. She goes on.

“I know who you are Harry. I know you’ve got a mum and sister you’re close with. I’ve seen you around town. For someone with two women like that in your life you can look up to, you sure are a misogynistic prick.”

Harry’s left stunned. He didn’t think she ever noticed him let alone know him. He replays her words, her glimpse of vulnerability. If her words were an essay, there would be no red ink. It was hard for him to accept but she was right. From the start, when Ms. Easton paired them he made a million assumptions about her. That were all proven wrong. And Ms. Easton was right too: he was smart and good at being smart but maybe there was more than that.

“Now you’re quiet again!?” YN sounds defeated.

“No wait,” Harry speaks up before she leaves. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“Yeah whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m over this.”

“Actually,” he steps in the same direction she does as she heads for the door. She stops in surprise. “Actually I am sorry. I was being intellectually superior. You’re smart too. I’m sorry.”

She looks at him warily, like he was going to laugh at her and tell her he was joking. When he doesn’t, when he maintains eye contact even though it kills him inside she backs away. Her face relaxes, like she’s accepted backing down. It was quite a sight for Harry, to see YN the Mean Girl who’s been making the last couple weeks hell for him, transform into something softer. Something that—he was still nervous to look at for too long, but one he could look at a little easier.

“I don’t want to write about the royal family and their fucking war legacy.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that.

“That’s basic as hell, I’m falling asleep just imagining us presenting it. It’s like buying drugstore when we can be buying Sephora.”

She squints at him, waiting for a rebuttle but he lets her have this one. After what Ms. Easton said, Harry was realizing that being smart didn’t mean you were right all the time. And he also had no idea what her example meant.

“Wow. Nothing?”

“No, I agree.” Harry smiles, a little embarrassed but wow. Her mouth splits into a grin and it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly younger, carefree, in that moment as Harry remembers how to breathe, he sees the person her mother tells her to be.

“What?” The staircase dims as she takes the smile back. “Are you going to go back to being mute.”

“No,” I was just admiring how beautiful you looked right now. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. But you’re also way out of my league so now I have to act cool about it. “I just don’t know if we have time-“

“Stop.” She puts her hand up and walks towards him, back to the doors. “I’m going to come up with a pitch so good I’ll be picking your jaw off the floor and wiring it shut again. And…you can pitch your sad topic to me. The best one wins.”

“But we can just vote our own,” Harry points out the flaw in her plan, ignoring her threat.

“I think we’re both mature enough to hear each other out?” She opens the door back to the hall and Harry scrambles through it to keep up.

“I know I am,” Harry says it before he can think. Uh oh.

“You’re cheeky,” YN eyes him but she doesn’t look upset. Actually, she looks delighted. “Not just a quiet nerd hm?”

Harry shrugs, they had really been their stereotypes the last few weeks.

“So what you said before, you think I’m smart?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” Harry felt uncomfortable now on the spot.

“So like you think I can be the future prime minister?”

“I…don’t know about that.” Harry side eyes her to notice she’s smiling. She was teasing him.

The bell rings out as they near the library.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” she says to him. She shoots him another smile and Harry tries to memorize it, second guessing he ever thought she was unattractive.

***

That Friday it’s like Harry and YN never had that conversation. She ignores him in the halls as usual, her friends sneer at him when they catch him looking their way. As much as Harry didn’t want to be disappointed, he was. Why did he think anything was going to be different?

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile was a loop in his head any time his mind wanders. No wonder their whole grade was in love with her.

“You’re staring. Again.” Harry’s mate says at lunch. This time Harry looks away quickly, embarrassed. ��What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “She’s just been making my life hell since we partnered up.”

“Yeah I heard those guys roughened you up at lunch the other day.”

They didn’t. But they did aim a basketball around the net as Harry was walking by yesterday and it had hit him. His glasses had fallen off but luckily nothing broke.

“Just one more week,” Harry mutters. Earlier this week he was counting down the days. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When the bell rings signalling the end of lunch, Harry is surprised when YN falls in line with him to their class.

“Pitch ready?” She asks. She smelled amazing like flowers and tea. Focus.

“Yep,” Harry didn’t put much effort into it. He didn’t have the same passion he did before and he was curious what YN had.

They get the last 20 minutes of class to work on their project. YN sits behind Harry so he turns when their time starts.

“Me first,” YN brings out a binder. She pulls out a folded piece of paper that she hands. He opens it and glitter falls into his lap.

“Ugh!” Harry jumps up but despite that his crotch sparkles. “What is this?”

YN’s eyes are lit up and she hides her giggles behind her hand. Harry stares, turning pink. Why would she do that?

“I’m so-“ she covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” She’s shaking as she tries to stop laughing. It’s kind of contagious and Harry cracks a smile.

“My pants are covered in glitter,” he deadpans which send her head onto the table as she shakes with laughter.

“It was just supposed to lighten the mood ohmygod,” YN can barely finish her sentence.

That was it. Harry tries to pick up whatever glitter he can, using the paper (he realizes it was her pitch) as a dustpan. He taps her behind the shoulder and she jumps up to turn, in that moment he dumps the paper on her and sits back down in satisfaction.

“Now we’re even,” Harry tell her. Her mouth is open in shock.

“No!” She tries to dust it off but her crotch, that Harry glances at, is also shimmering. “We were even after I did that to you! This is! Oh my god.”

She stands over Harry, her eyes glancing at his pants. A snicker escapes. Then she’s back in her seat laughing.

“I have to say your pitch is not going well,” Harry reminds her.

“Oh my god,” she tried to get serious but she’s still grinning. Harry doesn’t mind.

“Should I go first?” He asks.

“No no I got this. Okay. The royal family and…their influence on food. Now before you think it’s stupid did you know the matriarch actually has a list of forbidden foods. And if we go back, and look at the countries they invaded we can see…” YN grows serious, but passionate, as she begins pitching the topic. And before anything just her passion alone convinces Harry they had to do this topic. “From land to table.”

“Okay.” Harry says.

“Okay? Like that was just okay?”

“No, I vote your topic.”

“Oh my god really?” She lights up and it’s blinding. Harry wanted to make her light up every chance he got. Focus.

“Yeah I think it’s interesting. And different. But we only have a week.”

“That’s okay!” YN opens her binder and pulls out another sheet. “I did a bunch of research. I couldn’t really sleep last night cuz of…anyway. So our library has all these books that can help. And we can spend the weekend catching up right? We can meet at the local library and work. So we’re caught up by Monday.”

Wow. She really thought this through.

“Isn’t that too nerdy for you?” Harry has to ask. Didn’t she have something cooler to do on the weekend.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. That was the YN he knew. “Just because I’m not a nerd doesn’t mean I don’t care about my grades. You should know my lowest grade has been 82 this year.”

Wow. Even though Harry never scored below 95 that was still impressive coming from her. Which it shouldn’t be, he reminds himself. She was smart—just in a different way.

“Okay let’s do it!” Harry was excited. He suddenly understood what Ms. Easton was trying to say, he was missing creativity.

“Yay!” She squeezes his arm and Harry’s never felt more aware of his arm in his life. YN notices him freezing and she pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t give you my cooties did I?”

She was quick. But it was funny and Harry can’t help but let out a snort.

“Is that a laugh? Are you laughing at something I said about you?”

Harry shakes his head and turns in his seat but his face is stuck in the grin. YN continues to heckle him from behind but she’s interrupted by the bell.

“Give me your number,” she says as he packs up. “So we can coordinate tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry pulls up his contacts and hands her his phone. “Just put yours in.”

“Okay, I’m texting myself too,” she types for a while and then hands it back. It’s only later when she texts him at the end of the day does he click her contact.

Future Prime Minister YN ❤️

The picture is one of her from below with a serious face on. When he squints he realizes she’s flipping him off. It’s funny, and Harry feels like he sees her now. Even though she couldn’t always be herself like he could, Harry now understood her enough to recognize the glimpses of herself she was giving him.

It’s destined that every nerd falls for the mean girl. Harry never believed that until now. As YN becomes more recognizable to him, his crush grows a little more. He had to nip this in the bud, he realizes. Because she would never feel the same way. In a million years. But maybe they could be friends. Maybe it was time for Harry to discover who he could be when he wasn’t spending all his time being nerdy. He had a lot to learn from her, he realizes. And the one thing he was good at was studying.

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randombush3 · 7 months

Note

YEAHHHH!!’

gladly x

---

“Y/n left me.”

The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you.

“What?” says Jenni.

“She can’t just take Nico, can she?”

Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”

“Are you angry at her?”

“Yes.”

Alexia thinks about it.

“No.”

“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.”

“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.”

“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.”

“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”

“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought.

With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.”

“He would be made for it. You are his mother.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Well, I'm not angry at her.”

“Alexia."

---

what do we think?

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fc barcelona #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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loverofpiggies · 2 years

Text

Hey guys, I got something I’m ready to talk about under the cut. It’s super long! And it’s pretty serious, so feel free to scroll past. It’s also about some serious subject matter regarding transphobia, so if you’re not in a good place and ready to read about something like that, take care of yourself first and foremost. Okay?

Okay.

Hey guys, I’ve been doing a lot of self discovery these last few…. I guess technically my whole life, but I only got serious about focusing and working on it these last few years, and it has to do with my history of transphobia. I want to talk about my journey of growth, and what I’ve done to grow, and maybe it could help anyone else dealing with similar issues.

I was a pretty…. Hateful kid, to put it lightly. I was very angry, VERY angry, and obsessed over all this anger and hatred I had at everyone, but especially at myself. I’ve been in therapy as far back as I can remember, and more meds than I’d like to admit, trying to figure out what was ‘wrong’ with me. Which was a lot, by the way.

Anyway, around 2016, I got really serious about therapy. As a kid I didn’t take it seriously, but by 2016 I knew I needed help. I realized how my anger was ripping me apart, and how deeply it was rooted in hating myself. So, without therapy, and without the tools of therapy, I’d try to alter thoughts as they’d happen. I’d see someone dressed in a way I didn’t like? My thoughts immediately turned to hatred and judgementality. I taught myself to step back, and go, ‘hold on. You don’t know them. That’s a lot to assume about someone you’ve never talked to.’ and it helped curb a lot of my most angry and judgemental thoughts, at least, I thought so. In truth, all it did, was bury the issue, instead of addressing it.

Going into therapy seriously this time as an adult, I started unburying my own trauma, small bit by small bit. I started journaling a lot of it out, and my therapist put it best. Going to therapy is like trying to untangle a ball of paperclips. You might be like ‘ah, I just want to take this one paperclip out’ but it’s attached to so many other things you wouldn’t have guessed, and eventually you just. End up with the whole ball. You go to therapy for one ‘small’ thing, oops, you’re talking about this huge other thing that you never knew was related.

Also at this point, I was pretty serious about my spirituality. I was sick of being so angry and judgemental, I got deep into meditation and learning about compassion, because… well I lacked so much of it for so long. My favorite quote, that helped me grow the most, is “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete” by Jack Kornfield. Another one I adore, is, “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” attributed to lots of people so I’m not actually sure who the original quoter is. If you watched a lot of my early streams, I was pretty obsessed with kindness and spirituality at that point! Half the time the streams turned into talks about that, lol. Sorry if that was a bit much, I was in a ‘place’ at that time.

After realizing how angry I was, and being so exhausted from it, I swung the opposite way pretty hard. I knew what it felt like to be angry and judgemental, and hurt people because of it. I’ve seen people I was very close to in my life, destroy relationships because of anger. And I was trying so hard to make up for it, to stop being so angry. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore, I didn’t want to hurt myself, and I wanted to be kind and understanding about perspectives I spent so long cutting off. And the therapy helped, a lot! I worked on a lot of deep issues, and my mind, more and more, started being less angry. I also got on meds, because we *finally* figured out what my issue was, and got me on the right medication. At least, once I got over my ‘I don’t need medication’ phase. Which was an absolute blessing.

I thought to myself, ah ha! Look at me, look at all this progress! I’m not angry or judgemental anymore. I’ve opened up so many doors, learned so many new things, I’m okay now, I don’t need any further help.’ With all the progress I had made, I really believed I didn’t need anymore work. The growth I made in just a couple years was astounding, and I wasn’t where I needed to be, but by this point I had the tools I needed to work on things myself. This was what I told myself anyway.

Also around this time, I was making my first close trans friends. And there was this weird, nasty feeling in my head, that I thought I had gotten past. These angry, judgemental thoughts cropped back up again, and they shocked me. I thought I was past this sort of anger, this judgementality. I didn’t want to look at it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it, or look deeper. I didn’t want to think that I could be so mean again, especially after all the work and growth I put in. So, I shoved it away, as hard as I could. I didn’t want to see it, and I didn’t want to think about it.

The problem with trying to shove angry, and judgemental, hateful thoughts away, is they don’t actually go away. They stay, and force themselves out in other ways. They come back as ‘jokes’ or ignorant angry comments. They come out subconsciously, as a defensive reaction. But… I didn’t want to acknowledge that I might be transphobic, or have transphobic thoughts. I didn’t want to be angry. So when I’d ‘joke’, or make a comment, I’d feel ashamed, and try to bury it deeper. And deeper. And it just made it worse. I also used my therapy as a defense mechanism too, without realizing it. “I’m fine now, I’ve gone to therapy, I don’t need any more work, I’m fine!” So. I buried it. I think there’s a pattern here.

After years of therapy, you’d think I’d realize what was going on. I was trying to bury this, the way I tried to bury all my anger for so many years. I knew from experience, that burying the issue does not work, and just makes it so much worse in the long run. But, I didn’t actually realize I was burying it. I was so deep in my own denial, that I couldn’t see it. Because there was a lot of deep shame there, too. I had so many amazing trans friends, and the experiences they had dealt with by this time, JUST for being trans, horrified me. I never, *ever* wanted to be a source of pain for them. But I’d still make comments, or ‘jokes’. Then, I’d feel horrible, crushing guilt, and try to force that bad side of me down even further.

By this point, a good majority of my friend group was either trans, or non binary. I loved them so much, and didn’t want to acknowledge my issues, or the fact that I had thoughts that could hurt them. Eventually, one of my trans friends approached me, and my god, I’m so lucky to have them in my life. But they approached me, telling me “I know you don’t mean to hurt anyone. I think… maybe it’s time to talk to your therapist about this.”

And… they were right. I spent so much time in denial, once they said this to me, it clicked. Yes, I do need to talk to someone. I can’t live like this anymore. If compassion is as important to me as I’ve always said, I need to work on any parts of me that still hold anger. But I was also so terrified, after spending so long trying to avoid it, now I was going to open up to someone? And say whatever my thoughts were out loud? What if I couldn’t be fixed? What if I was destined to be hateful and angry forever, no matter how hard I worked? I didn’t want to hear my own thoughts. I didn’t want to see this awful side of me, after spending so long trying to ‘defeat it’. I didn’t even know how dark it got, and my mind conjured all sorts of nasty ideas of how ‘bad’ of a person I was.

So. I walked into my therapist’s office, and said… out loud. “I think I’m transphobic. And I hate it.” I’ll leave a lot of details out, because it’s pretty personal, but I’ll go over the important things I discovered. After she let me speak for a bit, we turned to my gender identity. She asked me things in detail. I’m a cis woman, so I didn’t think I had any issues with my gender identity, so her questions confused me, but deeper than that, they scared me. There was still something inside of me that wanted to fight back, to protect me from whatever was coming. But I pushed forward.

As we pulled apart the paperclips, and started getting to the root of my true, deeper issue, I started to realize something. See, I’m pretty confident and comfortable in my skin. At least, I believed I was. I told myself, anyway. In a similar vein as I used ‘compassion’ to shove away parts of myself I hated, I used ‘confidence’ to shove away the insecure parts of myself as well. Which, I mean, couldn’t be a more false version of confidence OR compassion if you ask me.

I started to realize that I had a deep insecurity about my own femininity. A deep, crippling insecurity. See, my face and body are pretty androgynous. With long hair, I can look like a girl, but with short hair I can look pretty boyish. I don’t have much of a figure, or a chest, so I can be mistaken for a boy under lots of circumstances. That, combined with the fact that tight clothes are uncomfortable for me, meant overall I looked very unfeminine. And I was bullied a lot for it, growing up. Kids would call me a boy. In highschool, I was made fun of a lot, too. I’d be made fun of for not looking like a ‘girl’. This was only one factor of my bullying at the time, like I mentioned before. I had a lot of pretty severe behavior issues, so it sorta made me a prime target for bullying. I wanted to be viewed as a girl, as a woman. But because my looks didn’t fit enough into their ‘boxes’, I was made fun of. I was laughed at, and I can’t tell you how often people would say things like ‘are you SURE you’re a girl down there?’.

And this was the smoking gun. I finally had the realization I needed. This is hard to write, but. Because I didn’t fit in the mold of what my peers thought a woman was, I felt guilt, and I felt shame. And I shoved it away. And realized… subconsciously, I was doing what was done to me, to my trans friends. To the trans community. And it hurt. It hurt so much, to realize what I was doing. But now it also made so much sense. The guilt, the trying to ‘play it off’, the avoidance, the burying. It was so painful to grow up with those comments, that my mind was trying to shove away and hide me from realizing I was continuing the cycle of pain.

Not only that, but in therapy I learned something else. I’m still working through this, but. I realized as well I have dysphoria, and some mild dysmorphia. The fact that I was perceived so differently then I felt about myself in my adolescence, followed me deeply into adulthood.

I realized that when I would have friends talk about dysmorphia, my defense mechanism would kick in, to avoid me thinking that I might have the same issue. In fact, all my defense mechanisms would kick in, to avoid me from reliving the bullying and the trauma.

And anyone who knows anything about therapy, knows how much this shit hurts. It hurts SO much to open up wounds you’ve tried to hide, to look in and see where the real issue lies. To realize that maybe you haven’t been as kind as you wanted, even if it wasn’t intentional.

But… after the tears, and the pain of reliving this, and ripping open all the doors I was trying to close, to shove away… there was relief. I finally knew what was wrong. And that I knew where to start working. How to start helping myself grow, and be better.

So many things clicked, and my issues with transphobia evaporated. Finally facing it, finally confronting it, and realizing the deeper sides of myself, took away all that power my anger was holding onto. I had to reteach myself that, ‘hey, thanks for trying to protect me, but I’m okay now. You don’t have to protect me anymore.’

I’m still working on my issues with my femininity. After realizing this, I went through my closet and got rid of everything that made me feel ‘unpretty’. I went thrift shopping, and found looser clothes that still made me feel like a girl. I’m slowly growing my hair out, to see if I’m happier with long hair, or happier with short. In truth, I’m rediscovering myself again. It’s easier to look in the mirror.

The defensive reactions went away. The ‘jokes’ disappeared, and I didn’t have to fight to bury anything anymore. And I could be the supportive friend I always deeply wanted to be. To push back at a society that doesn’t like people ever sitting outside specific ‘molds’. To help make a world be safer for anyone who doesn’t align with the mainstream idea of what being a person is. To what being a man, or a woman is. To being whatever a human is.

This has been very long. But. I wanted to go through the entire experience, every step, to show how I worked on myself. And how I grew, from this darker, angrier, unhappy version of myself. And that maybe it could help anyone else who’s had the same experience. I also wanted to go through all of this, to show the steps I’ve made. And to my trans and nonbinary friends? To all the people in the trans community that I may have hurt in the past? I’m sorry. Genuinely, and truly. I never wanted to be another source of pain, especially to trans people, who already experience so much discrimination.

This was a painful experience to go through, but one I definitely needed. I’m still journaling, working on my issues and working on becoming a happier me. I had to take my time to discover myself, and wanted to open up about my journey to yall. I was finally ready to talk about this.

Anyway. I hope you have a beautiful day, and I hope every day is happier than the last. Cheers yall.

#tw: transphobia #transphobia #cqchat #important #therapy #self discovery #keep it real you guys

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tarotbubbletea · 8 months

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🍂 PAC Reading: Catharsis 🍂

Hey everyone!

October 2023 was a SHIT month for me. That eclipse season took a major toll on my mental and physical health. I hope you all had an easier time, and if you didn't, trust that you're not alone and I send you all the love you may need at this time 💛

Here's a spread I attempted from Lightwands tarot's Tiktok page on helping with catharsis, ie., helping you pin down and let go of some negative thoughts that may have been living in your head rent-free.

I intend this to be a timeless reading. Take a deep breath and clear your mind. Then pick the picture that you feel most drawn to. If you feel drawn to more than one, feel free to read those piles. If you feel drawn to none, perhaps I don't have a message for you at this time, but hope to have something for you in the future!

Going from left to right, we have piles 1, 2, and 3.

I'd love to hear some feedback! I'm also open for paid personal readings ($3 flat-rate).

Pictures used are not mine.

My kofi ☕

Pile 1

A pressing thought on your mind: King of Cups

Okay this is definitely about a boy. You may be overthinking/obsessing over a connection right now. Perhaps you have this person up on a pedestal and you think they're the best romantic match you could possibly ever have and that being chosen by them would be the best thing to ever happen to you. And maybe that's true. But you have to remind yourself that if you're begging to be chosen, that takes away significantly from your power, and most stable, secure men will want someone that matches them in their power. Some of you may be thinking that this guy has 2 options they're struggling between. For some of you, this may be an ex that you're seeing move on and, frankly, it hurts. If that's the case, I feel you.

Allow the tarot deck to describe the thought back to you in a softer voice: The Emperor

I think you need to remember that there is a bit of logic to relationships as well. Love isn't enough; you do have to think about the kind of life that's possible with your potential partner. You also need to remember that people feel and use their emotions differently than you. Your person may be at a stage where they're approaching partnership more logically. They may be thinking of compatibility in a more mature way at this point. This is a shift that started quite prominently during the pandemic, with casual dating taking a dip in our society. This person may also just be quite exhausted and have decided to just settle down. Love, at some stage, becomes more of a decision than a feeling, and that's where this person is right now. Remember that this is a window into their thought processes, not a judgement on you.

How you're approaching the thought: Justice

You may be self-flagellating a bit, thinking that the reason you're having such a hard time in love and life is because of some of your past mistakes or some karmic debt. And maybe this is true, because we all have karmic debt from this life and from the ones before. Every single person you know has made errors, and more people than you think have skeletons in their closets. We're all a little toxic. It's just the reality of life. And that's okay. That's life (tangent: watch Fleabag!) Maybe it's a little less serious for you and you feel like you're just not enough, or that you just messed up your chance with this person. But ask yourself as objectively as possible, did you? Did you, really? Doesn't this guy have flaws too? Is it possible that neither you nor him are the issue here, but it's really just the relationship/situationship that may not have been a good fit? Maybe you both just weren't mature enough for each other at the time? Maybe it was meant to be temporary? Maybe there were external factors at play? But more importantly, maybe it's not your problem to solve?

How can you release the thought without needing to resolve it right now: Queen of Swords

Step into your power. Get some fresh air. Literally. You've closed yourself in a box. You need to step out and realize how vast the sky really is. How big the world really is. How big your world really is. There needs to be perspective change for you. And you don't need to do this alone. We need community more than ever now. Find a therapist, a trusted friend, maybe even a sibling that keeps it real with you and is genuine. You don't need to find the love of your life, or figure out what this person means for you, if they're a karmic/twin flame/soulmate/what have you right this minute. You don't. Trust me, you don't. Do you want to get asked out/married this very minute? Of course not. It really isn't woo-woo nonsense when people say that what's meant to be, will be. Think of all the times you wanted a situation to play out a certain way and it didn't. It probably worked out better, if you're being honest with yourself. Let go. Let the Universe do what it needs to do. Maybe this will help: The Universe put you in this situation, so let it sort it out. This is the Universe's problem now. You're just the actor. It's the show writers that need to sort this out now. Just vibe in the meantime lol.

Let the thought say one last goodbye: 9 of Swords

Your pain is not for nothing. This will be different for different people, but maybe the pain is to ground you. Maybe it's to prevent you from self-sabotaging in the future. Maybe it's to get you to see the reality of this person. Maybe it's to get you to see the reality of yourself. Maybe this is how you repay some karmic debt (in which case, yay! Lighter times ahead!) Maybe this is a sign you may have some unresolved trauma that needs to be removed from your mind and body, and is to show you that you're closing in on a breaking down point and need to love yourself enough to tend to it. Maybe it's bits and pieces of everything mentioned above. Maybe it's just none of these, and you're letting seasonal depression get the best of you. Believe it or not, sadness is vital in life. It's a necessary emotion. If you feel the need to wallow, by all means go ahead. And when it's time, let yourself stop. It's okay. You're okay. And it'll all be okay. You are worthy of love.

Oracles: Patience; Bring love into the situation (New Moon in Aquarius)

Work on detaching yourself from this situation. Your specific/personal situation will come from thinking outside the box. Be more pragmatic. Improve your karma by doing charitable work.

Pile 2

A pressing thought on your mind: The Lovers (and The Hermit for clarification)

Alright, so this pile is also thinking about love. But you guys have a lighter energy than Pile 1. Or maybe you're a Pile 1 coming back to this reading after some time. You've probably been single for a while, and have done some extensive soul-searching and inner work, and now perhaps an inner voice is telling you that you're ready to put yourself out there again. And the energy coming through is yes! Yes, you are ready! But since it's been a while, and given the state of the streets, you're apprehensive about how to put yourself out there, and if you even should yet. Some of you may even be thinking of those Tiktoks that tell you how awful partners (particularly men) can be, and you're (rightfully) a bit scared.

Allow the tarot deck to describe the thought back to you in a softer voice: 8 of Pentacles

You've been hard at work with your personal growth and self-concept, and it radiates in your aura now. You've been diligent and have paid attention to the details. There's no such thing as a perfect person, of course, but you've done commendable work to get to as perfect as you can be in this stage of your life. Look at you go, you little rock-star! You need to watch out for black-and-white thinking, both directed at your own self and at others. Just because there may be a few things you're still working on, doesn't mean you're not ready. And the same goes for people you may meet soon, or for those that you're already considering. In fact, it shows self-awareness that you/the other person is cognizant of their flaws and still putting themselves out there because not all healing occurs inside. We all need people, and that's not a flaw. It's okay to be apprehensive. Be aware of the risks but don't let them consume you.

How you're approaching the thought: The High Priestess

You may be scouring Tumblr or Tiktok or wherever for readings and signs to foresee who you need to engage with next, what signs to look for, how it's all going to play out. It's like you want a blueprint of the entire love story beforehand because you're determined to find the one next. No more games for you. No more delays. You're ready and you want your future now. Love that for you, queen! But don't let it overconsume you! Micromanaging your love life isn't the best way to go about it. You know this, c'mon!

How you can release the thought without needing to resolve it right now: The Magician

Manifestation is real. But it's real for everyone, not just you. Imagine you're driving and you're manifesting going right, but so is another person, and fate may look at this and decide, okay, one of these needs to detour to avoid a collision, and maybe it picks you? Shit example, but I hope you get what I'm saying. It's good to be specific in your manifestations but not too specific, you know? Think of the burnt toast theory. Most of them there's a reason behind why things happen the way they do. Sometimes it's an important reason, and sometimes it's just random and meaningless. You seem to be approaching dating in a very Virgo-like way at this time, and essentially the message here is to not be too calculating and strategic. Keep your wits and lessons with you, of course, but don't forget that the Universe is also a player here.

Let the thought say one last goodbye: Ace of Pentacles

Your future partner is going to come to you like a gift or an offering. For some of you, that's where the delay is - the Universe is packaging them up perfectly for you and you just need to wait until it's time lol. The Universe and your spirit guides have been hard at work helping you heal and polish and be ready for love, and they're not going to just give you out to a random, okay? Have faith. Express gratitude constantly. And just affirm that love is here and your steps are guided. Dating apps may be the way for some of you. One or two of you may have luck bumping into someone at work or at the gym. Also hearing a beloved bar for someone. But for the majority, it's a highly personalized way that you'll meet the one. Ultimately, though, don't think too hard about it.

Oracles: Purification; Confidence is your key to success (New Moon in Leo)

There you have it. You've been purified enough to put yourself out there again. You're ready. Whether this be through apps, networking, or just living your life, do it with confidence and carry the intention with you to find your best match without chasing.

Pile 3

A pressing thought on your mind: Queen of Pentacles

This pile's conundrum seems to be family dynamics. Maybe you're in a sticky situation at home, where you can't afford to move out and you've either outgrown your home environment, or it's getting toxic. But you may not have the funds/resources to leave. And you feel like you're being smothered but you also would feel guilty if you were to leave. For some, you may not need to leave but you feel like there's undue pressure coming from your family whenever you go to make decisions, be it financial, education-related, relationship-related, or what have you. Getting heavy 'eldest child of immigrant parents' energy here. Maybe you don't feel your age because you feel like you don't have the freedom and independence you'd assumed you would have at this point. Some of you were even parentified as kids and it's starting to come to the fore-front. For some, this extends to friends and you feel like you've outgrown them, or just need more friends, but again, you're in a box.

Allow the tarot deck to describe the thought back to you in a softer voice: Knight of Cups

Some of you may daydream of a Prince Charming coming and saving you from this environment. This is especially true if the 'eldest daughter' thing applies to you and one of the only acceptable ways in your family for you moving out and starting your own life is to get married. And maybe that is what will happen for some of you. But don't depend on it as the only way. It will happen if it's meant to happen, but when we attached too much stake to one specific outcome, we pour too much of our power into it, and the Universe doesn't like that. It's okay to pray and manifest a particular outcome but detachment is a key factor in manifestation, remember that. One of the easiest ways out of this energy is just getting your license and a car, you know? You don't have to wait for a ride, you can be the driver. Even getting a pet is a good way to get out of the house more (plus, that would divert your family's attention and ease the tensions around the house).

How you're approaching the thought: 3 of Pentacles

You probably vent to your friends or siblings a lot. You prioritize working (maybe even working overtime) and saving up money. You might also be pursuing higher ed to better your career. It's definitely a good step! Just be aware of your social and personal needs and realize that there's multiple gardens within you that need watering. If the immigrant thing resonates with you, this is especially important. Do not let work and money consume you because hard work, as sad as it is to say, does not always lead you to where you need to go. You need to be a whole person, not just a worker. Think about it, how logical is it to water your 'money' garden and expect your 'personal' garden to bloom if you don't tend to it as much? Don't let burnout ruin your senses.

How you can release the thought without needing to resolve it right now: The Fool

It's your first time being you. And it's also your parents' first time being them. Be as empathetic and compassionate as you can be with yourself and your family without self-sacrificing. There's internal knowledge you came here with that you can access through meditation. Reconnect with your inner voice and let it help you. Don't hold on to resentments, whether internal or external. Don't be so hard on yourself, and when faced with arguments at home, try to separate the actions from the doer. Everyone has their own traumas and vices that they unintentionally hand over control to. Don't rush things. Make an inner sanctuary for yourself and believe that things will work out. The dog/pet message is coming through again lol so if that's a possibility, please go for it! And whenever you feel helpless, remind yourself that you're not supposed to have all the answers just yet. Most successful people, when asked, say the same. They had the vision and they had the grit, but they didn't always have all the steps laid out and blind confidence.

Let the thought say one last goodbye: 4 of Wands

Everything will work out. Trust. Please, just trust. For those of you that resonated with the Prince Charming message, this is confirmation that that will happen. You'll meet the man of your dreams, and leave your current surroundings for the home and life for your dreams. This isn't meant to push you to place all your faith into a savior coming, thus disempowering you, but this message should push you to instead hold on to your power, and keep tending to all your gardens equally in the meantime. You've been through a lot, and it wouldn't be fair to the old versions of you that lead you here to give up now. It gets steeper the higher you go on a mountain. But at this point, you're also stronger. Believe that. It's a marathon, not a sprint.

Oracles: Courage; Your hard work is paying off (New Moon in Capricorn)

Don't be too controlling, and limit your exposure to anyone who is too controlling. Stay ambitious and courageous. Recognize and reward yourself for all the hard work you've done. See yourself as a person and not a project. Your life may not have been a fairy tale, but your fairy tale moment is coming.

I hope you found a message here today! And if not, I hope to have a message for you next time. Wishing you all love, light, and success! ❤️

Don't forget to leave feedback if your reading resonated in any capacity.

My kofi ☕ (for tips and $3 flat-rate readings)

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot readings #pj speaks #pick a card #pick a pile reading #pick a card readings #pick a pile readings #PAC #tarot PAC #tarot community #pick a pile #oracle readings

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smartycvnt · 1 year

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Dreamy

Title: Dreamy Pairing: Cody Rhodes x Reader Prompt: 14. "Stop looking at me like that, people might get the impression you're soft." R WC: 890

"And I'm standing here backstage with the newly signed hardcore legend herself, Y/n Y/l/n. Y/n, whenever Triple H announced your signing, you said that you came here with a mission. What exactly is that mission?" Byron asked the woman standing across from him. Nobody would have ever known that the two were old friends from Y/n's FCW days whenever she had just been starting out. Especially not from the way that she looked at Byron like he was small, puny, and pathetic. That was the way that Y/n looked at most of her fellow peers on the roster, both male and female. There were a few excceptions, but it wasn't like anybody was allowed to talk about the things that they used to be before WWE.

"Byron, I could stand here and threaten or bully you, but I won't. Damage CTRL, Judgement Day, hell, even Corey Graves made himself look tougher by picking on you. That's the difference between those groups and me, I know where my strengths lie and I don't bother picking on the weak to make myself look better. I don't stand around in a ring making ridiculous promo after promo about how I'm going to revitalize the women's division. I'll be standing in out in that ring ready to take on any competitor that wants me, not for any championship belt, but something that used to be worth a lot more than any belt. Let this be a message to every single person on the roster, male or female, if you want my respect, you know where to find me," Y/n said sternly. She dropped her hand and started to walk away as the cameras cut.

"Hey, before you go!" Byron called out after her. "It's good to have you back here. I'm glad they came to their senses about signing you as yourself."

"Thanks Saxton, take care of yourself man," Y/n told him. She walked away after that and headed straight for the ring. People would go crazy over the way that she just sat there cross-legged. Every little thing that Y/n did was always scrutinized by fans who thought they knew her motivations better than her. Nobody could break apart her character or the choices made whenever she was in the ring. Y/n never let anything be noticed that she didn't want to.

Y/n waited for her first opponent to show, and was surprised when it was one of the lower card women thought to be jobbers. Y/n had no qualms with working with those women, especially the home-grown ones. That was how the show went for weeks, Y/n would place herself in the ring during a commercial break and then someone would answer the call whenever she got back. Sometimes, they moved on after one match, but not always. Y/n liked the women who kept coming back for more, just to see what they could do with a talent like Y/n's. Slowly but surely, Y/n worked her way across all of WWE's shows until it became a game to guess where Y/n would show up and when. She couldn't remember the last time that she had been on Raw as she walked away from her match against Natalya.

"How are you feeling?" Cody asked as he rushed over to help her backstage. Y/n was limping, a side effect of having been submitted by the Sharpshooter. Some people would have bitched and whined about losing to Nattie, but Y/n respected the woman. Quite a few of Y/n's own submission moves had been learned from the blonde woman during their time at FCW together. "Do you need to get some ice for your knee?"

"No Cody, I do not need any ice. I'm fine, not every match can be a win. Besides, how can I complain when I know where my next feud is going?" Y/n asked him. Cody looked around, as if he was scared that people were watching them. "What's wrong?"

"Stop looking at me like that, people might get the impression that you're soft," Cody joked. Y/n smacked his chest as she walked past him. "Are you ready for Texas?"

"No, but I will be. This is huge, my first feud in WWE. No offense, but I don't think I've ever been so excited before," Y/n said. Cody's brows furrowed as he tried to think of what would have been offensive about that before he looked down at the diamond ring on Y/n's finger. They were going to be married soon, sometime after the next Royal Rumble, but before WrestleMania. If everything went according to plan, that match would be even bigger than his match against Roman, and hopefully with more favoring odds. "She's my hero Cody, this is a dream come true."

"I thought Mickie James was your hero." Cody crossed his arms as he looked down at Y/n. "Come to think on it, you've wrestled quite a few of your heroes."

"Yeah, but do you know how badly I wanted to beat up Michelle McCool when I was younger?" Y/n asked him. Cody chuckled as he nudged the two of you further backstage. "I know now that she's nice, but the sentiment still stands."

#cody rhodes #cody rhodes x reader #wwe #wwe x reader #my writing

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zaevauhm · 1 year

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Waiting Game

it's an extremely hot summer in the south of Europe, as your new housemate gives your summer an interesting turn

mentions of alcohol + unprotected sex

word count 9.3k

note: I loved creating this, I hope you will enjoy the read babes, mwah 💗

Slowly you started to drift out of sleep, as strong sunrays were starting to heat up your bare face. You turned some more, sinking even deeper into your sheets. Not a clue what time it is was, not completely sure what day it was either. You carelessly yawned and stretched your luckily, by now tanned arms before sitting up to take in the sight of the sunny streets of the Algarve. The white linen curtains that were messily hanging in front of the big window kept flowing as the slow, warm summer breezes increased and decreased. Heaven.

This was your happy place. You were finally back where you felt most at home, where you could breathe and let go of everything, of all the chaos that was going on in your life. Daily surrounded and loved by a dozen of newmade friends, as well as a few old ones, all sharing one huge house. It felt much like an out-of-control school trip; but deciding to leave your hometown behind and move to Portugal about a year and a half ago was really the best decision you ever made. Every single day you were grateful to be here, with the people you had considered your family.

Your peaceful process of waking up got cut short when you heard knocks on the other side of your door. ‘’Y/N?’’

‘’Are you awake?’’ The door slowly opened, the squeaking sounds making you look up. ‘’Hey, good morning Alex.’’ You yawned. ‘’Not much of a morning left’’ Alex, one of your closer friends, laughed as he sat down on the bed beside you.

‘’What do you want?’’ you laughed.

‘’I need you today, like the whole day.’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’I…Uh… I just want to hang with my friend, can I?’’ He mumbled.

You furrowed your brows, looking right through your friend of 8 years.

‘’Okay fine, if you insist.’’ Alex laughs. ‘’I might have asked someone out.’’

‘’Spill.’’

‘’I asked Lara out, but trust me…’’

‘’Lara that can’t stand me Lara?’’ you rolled your eyes, before grinning back at Alex.

‘’That should be the one. You don’t mind, do you?’’

You remember the girl so vividly, and frankly, much to your displease. She is a local who met some of the boys who lived with you during a night out, but always appeared to be super jealous of the girls. You never really understood why, as you and the three other girls that were living in the house had done nothing but try to make friends with her. You gave up, eventually.

‘’No, but what do you need me for? You do realize it’s my first week of vacation, right?’’

‘’I just need you to help me prepare and all. You know, usual stuff.’’

‘’You sound like a girl.’’

‘’Whatever, at least I can say I’m not like those idiots you’ve been dating.’’ Alex teases you. ‘’At least I prepare.’’

You roll your eyes again and let yourself fall back against the headrest of your bed, trying to dismiss the subject as soon as possible as you really didn’t want to think about your past ‘’relationships’’, nor about your current one, to be fair.

‘’By the way, a guy is moving in here today. I don’t think you know him.’’ Alex said as he played with the stitches of the white sheets that were covering you.

‘’I don’t?’’ You cheekily open one eye to peek at your friend.

Over the years, you had gotten to know so many people who had been moving in and out of the house you’re currently living in. Some of them ended up being lovers and moved out, while others would move out for different reasons and come back afterwards, as no one was originally from Portugal. All sorts of relationships bloomed from your friend group, and nothing was really ever labelled as ‘’strange’’ by anyone. The lack of judgement was something you loved more than anything. Everyone had the complete freedom to be themselves, unfiltered.

‘’Yeah, he was living here for a while and moved out right before you moved in. You might have heard of him, though. His name is Lewis.’’

‘’It doesn’t ring a bell at all.’’ You thought hard at the name, but there was nothing. No one had ever mentioned him, nor had you ever noticed him on photos or any material things that have been laying around the house.

‘’He didn’t really talk much, usually kept to himself a lot. He’s quite much like you in that department.’’

‘’Great, another introvert.’’ You sighed.

‘’Don’t worry, he is cool, he’s a friend of mine and Bruno. Apart from us, I think no one else really knows him. Maybe Lari does though.’’

You zoned out a little, unsure of where your own thoughts went. The way Alex had been describing him was interesting, so to speak.

‘’Anyway.’’ Alex spoke as he got up from the bed. ‘’Get dressed, I’ll drive. I know exactly where to go.’’

‘’Okay, I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.’’ You said as Alex closed your bedroom door behind him, leaving you to get ready.

You got up and took a simple shirt and some light-colored jeans from your closet and threw on some black slippers, as well as your every-day jewelry. You were not in the mood at all to get dressed, and as you’d probably be dragged behind Alex all day under the hot sun, this would work just fine. You freed your hair of the tie that was keeping it in a bun, leaving it down messily. It was summer… who’d care about it anyways?

Not long after, you were walking out with Alex, him opening the front door of the house for you. You carefully walked down the steep stairs, completely blinded by the sunlight for the first couple of seconds, before hearing Alex’ enthusiastic yelling for his friend.

‘’Lewis!’’ Alex shouted, in complete shock and surprise. Has he arrived here sooner than planned or something?

You could see clear now. Your eyes had immediately fell locked on the stranger. You were trying your hardest to look away, but the already impossible task got harder by the second.

‘’Hey man, good to finally see you!’’ The mysterious boy spoke, full of joy.

Lewis had just arrived, still carrying his bag over his shoulder, as he looked his old friend up and down.

‘’How’s it going?’’ He smiled so radiantly, it made you want to smile too, if you weren’t completely mesmerized by the strangers’ beauty.

‘’Good, good, I want to hear everything, we have to sit down tonight. Beers?’’ Alex asked full of enthusiasm, while Lewis’ eyes had meanwhile fell on you. You had turned your face towards the sun for a moment, as you nervously combed your hair with your hand, hoping the breeze that was flowing through your long locks would miraculously fix them. You could feel how his gaze on you had made you stiff up your legs to fix your posture, already doing your best to try not to look awkward.

‘’By the way, Lewis, this is Y/N. She moved in just a while after you, you probably just missed each other. ‘’

‘’Pity.’’ Lewis spoke, as he took a step towards you, making your heart pound in your throat. ‘’Hi there, I’m Lewis.’’ He spoke softly, as he put down his bags on the pavement and got close to you, gesturing that he wanted to greet you properly. ‘’May I?’’ he almost whispered, unintentionally sending electrical waves through your body. You nodded.

Lewis came closer, before putting his hand on your waist and placing three feather-light kisses on your cheeks, while slightly pressing his thumb into your skin. The last kiss, you could swear he was making it last as long as he possibly could. His smell and warmth that you immediately felt in those short seconds made it hard for you to speak.

‘’I’m Y/N.’’ you managed to speak without fumbling your words.

‘’I know.’’ Lewis smiled. ‘’I’ve heard a lot about the prettiest girl living around here, they weren’t wrong.’’ He said confidently.

You gave him a shy smile.

‘’Okay, good that you guys met, we have enough time for chit chat later.’’ Alex hastily spoke as he tried to pull you out of the captivating looks that the both of you were keeping each other in.

‘’Let’s go, Y/N.’’ He said as he hurried to grab your wrist, pulling you towards his parked car. ‘’Lewis, we’ll see you tonight man. Help yourself to anything you need.’’ Alex quickly spoke over his shoulder.

He opened the passenger side’s door for you, and you slowly, almost unwillingly lowered yourself in the car, trying your hardest not to look back at Lewis. While you waited for Alex to take his place, you couldn’t help it anymore. Your eyes locked with Lewis once more, sending you the same electrifying feeling all over your body. He smiled at you with a vaguely promising look in his eyes, and you knew he felt the same.

A few moments later, Alex was driving you down the street, towards the city. ‘’So, she probably likes if I wear that black shirt, and pick her up earlier than planned, don’t you think…?’’

You did hear Alex talk, it just, for some reason wasn’t really reaching you.

‘’Y/N!’’

You were suddenly interrupted from your thoughts completely, coming back to reality.

‘’I’m sorry, I uh…’’

‘’Where are your thoughts at?’’ Alex turned his face towards you, slightly annoyed.

‘’Nobody…Um…Nowhere.’’

‘’Very convincing.’’

You were still a bit daydreaming about ten minutes deep in the car ride, but how could you not be? He had the most beautiful skin, and that radiant smile? Those tattoos? Loose blonde curls hanging down his face, and a body that was practically screaming perfection. You tried your best to steer your thoughts elsewhere, to your friend who needed you.

‘’Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Where are we going exactly?’’

‘’I need roses for her and some groceries, so we’ll just go downtown, okay?’’

‘’Roses, huh? So, you’re a bit serious about her then, no?’’ You grinned at your friend.

‘’I don’t know, I might be later on…I don’t want to ruin my chances before they even begin, you know.’’ Alex sighed.

‘’That’s good, Alex. I’m happy one of us gets to date properly.’’ You said as you sunk a bit deeper into your seat, earning a cheeky smile from your friend.

You had arrived at the old city, where you would spend the entire afternoon. Alex had gotten Lara the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, with your help. There was no way she’d not like them, you thought. Slowly and enjoying the hot July sun as much as possible, you made your way from place to place, stopping here and there and ending the afternoon with a quick food break. ‘’So, feeling well prepared enough?’’ you ask your friend after he had ordered the two of you lunch. White pasta, with your favorite tiramisu desert after. Small gestures like your friends remembering your favorite foods, never failed to make you feel lucky and thankful. To be here, in this beautiful restaurant, with your biggest current problem being your friends date… It was almost dream-like.

‘’I’m a bit scared of her, to be honest.’’ Alex speaks into his glass.

‘’Scared?’’

‘’Yeah, she’s kind of… wild. For example, every time we go out and she’s around she ends up being completely drunk. I even wonder how she makes it home safe every time.’’

‘’I see…Where are you guys going anyway?’’

‘’I’m inviting her over for dinner tonight. We’ll just see where the night ends.’’

‘’I won’t disturb you.’’ You smirked at him, twirling your spaghetti around your fork, trying to stir your mind away from where it was going. Or better said, to whom it was going.

‘’You’ll be disturbed enough I think.’’ Your friend chuckles.

‘’How so?’’ You replied dryly.

‘’Nothing.’’ Alex raised his brows as he laughed and grabbed his phone, you knew he wanted you to bite, but you knew better.

‘’Whatever.’’

It was around 7 PM when you came back home, helping your friend carry the groceries inside. ‘’Hey, let me help you with those.’’ You heard a kind voice behind you, as you turned around and saw Lewis come down the stairs. ‘’Thank you, you’re a life saver.’’ You smiled at him as he released your arms from the heavy bags you were holding, placing them on the kitchen counter. You tried your hardest not to stare at his exposed, tan arms as they were easily lifting the heavy bags. ‘’Did you have fun?’’ he asked.

‘’Yeah’’ you said as you quickly looked the other way, trying to act as normal as possible. ‘’I just helped your friend a bit, preparing for his date and all. Uhm, did you manage here? Are you getting settled?’’

Lewis smiled at your caring face, reassuring you that he is just fine. ‘’I’m back in my old room, and I think there is no place on earth where I’d rather be right now.’’

‘’Oh, I’d love to hear all about that?’’ You spoke, genuinely interested. ‘’Which room is yours?’’

‘’First floor, last door on the right.’’

‘’You’re on the same floor, just, mine is the first left.’’ You don’t know why you felt the need to tell him where you sleep.

Lewis smiled at you, making you blush.

‘’Do you have plans tonight?’’

‘’Not really, my summer break has just started.’’ You said. ‘’I planned to just do some reading and relax in the garden, but it’s probably gonna be a full house tonight.’’ You sighed.

‘‘Not really your thing, huh?’‘ Lewis surprisingly read your mind.

‘‘I feel like tonight might turn out to be not so bad, so I am sticking around.’‘ You smiled at him. ‘’Don’t worry, i’m not leaving you out to dry here.’’

‘’I feel honored.’’ He said, smiling while he began putting the groceries away in the cabins, making you realize he knows this house just as well as you do. Even better, maybe. He was leaning against the kitchen counter by now, staring at you. For some strange reason, you started to feel awfully calm around him. You didn’t bother to appear to be busy, you just looked back at him. ‘’So, are you going to tell me about yourself, then?’’ You asked.

‘’Everything you’d like to know.’’ He spoke before licking his lips.

You chuckled and lightly shook your head, before walking off to find your friend, as you promised you’d help him prepare for tonight.

Alex and Lara had joined you later in the evening, as well as basically the rest of the house, leaving you and Lewis parted from each other. He was sat across from you, catching up with some of the guys. Laughing, drinking together. It made you happy to see how fast he was finding his way again, but then again, you wouldn’t expect any different from your housemates. You glanced back at him, still couldn’t figure out how it was humanly possible to be this perfect.

‘’So, what are your plans for your holidays?’’ the first ever friend you made in the house, Lari, said as she came to sit down next to you. There was no one you’d rather have near you now, she always had this calming effect on you. Probably exactly what you needed right now.

She knew you very well, you didn’t have to explain to her how you felt about your new-old housemate at all. And it turned out she knew the stranger who you had taken quite the interest in. Lari herself was in a relationship with Patricia, and you considered them to be like your older sisters, as you were the youngest in the entire house.

‘’I’ll have to see, babe. Maybe stay here and just chill.’’ You spoke, as you noticed Lewis had started to pay attention to your side of the table.

‘’Nao nao nao, Y/N, venha comigo… please come to Brazil with us?’’ Lari fake cried while wrapping her arms around you and resting her head on your shoulders.

‘’Yeah, there’s absolutely no way I’m spending my free days third-wheeling.’’ You chuckled.

Lewis had noticed, and you could tell he tried to hide a smile, much to your surprise. Before long, he got up, making his way towards you. ‘’Join me outside?’’ he asked, smiling down at you. You caught Lari winking at you. Basically, gesturing for you to get up.

You did and followed him to the terrace on the first floor of the house, overlooking a rather big yard. It was messily lit up, but it looked perfect.

The two of you sat down on the old, white chairs as Lewis started asking you about your personal life. ‘’You haven’t dated much?’’ He asked, clearly not believing you.

‘’You know that I’ve been with Bruno for years, right?’’ You didn’t necessarily want to mention that you were dating Lewis’ best friend of years in this house, but either he already knew, or it was going to come up sooner or later, anyways. It was better that he heard it from you. Makes you look a bit more detached too, you figured.

‘’Yeah, I can’t deny that I’d date him too.’’

You laughed at his joke, before looking at Lewis’ face to realize that he was not laughing.

‘’Okay.’’ You said before trying to shake the thing off. ‘’I’m gay, Y/N.’’

He completely took you by surprise. What? How? Him? You didn’t even process it, or even have the time to feel bad about it, you just didn’t want to make Lewis feel bad.

‘’Oh, that’s… okay, completely okay. I’m sorry, I just didn’t know.’’ You spoke as apologetic as you possibly could, you hoped he wouldn’t notice your flushing red cheeks. One could only hope that there was no sad tone in your voice, it would have been even more of an embarrassment.

Lewis waited a few moments before slightly lowering his head to meet your gaze, laughing at your apology. ‘’I’m just joking’’ he chuckled.

‘’But’’ a more serious, content tone spilled out of him.

‘’Now I know how you’d feel about that.’’ He almost whispered, as he leaned closer towards you.

Oh no.

‘’What? What are you talking about? I wouldn’t mind if you were gay.’’ You stumbled shyly, trying your best to keep your cool as if your heart wasn’t beating the shit out of your ribcages by now.

You knew Lewis was looking right through you, which made you blush even more. He looked back towards the garden, clearly content with what he had just learned.

After a while, Lewis gets up and gives you a hand, pulling you up from your seat. ‘’What are you doing?’’ You ask.

‘’It’s late. And you should get some well-deserved sleep.’’

‘’You saw Alex’s date, right?’’ you smirk at him. ‘’I don’t think I’m getting sleep any time soon.’’

Lewis raises one eyebrow, and then realizes what you’re talking about. ‘’I see’’. He says and clicks his tongue, clearly making up some plan in his head. "Now how can we fix that for you?"

Unsure of what to say, you just raised your eyebrows to express an "I don't know" face and slightly turned away from Lewis.

‘’Well, I can waste more of your time if you desire. Get you all tired so you can sleep like a baby.’’

‘’How?’’ You asked, genuinely surprised.

‘’Just however you like’’. He says, smiling you down.

Suddenly you realize that you barely know him, and no matter how much you two are getting along already, he is still a stranger. You figured it’s better to just keep it cool.

‘’Uhm, I think I should let you rest… You’re the one who’s had a long day, and you just arrived… I’m sorry, I completely lost track of time.’’

Lewis frowned his eyebrows at you, and you’re unsure of what to even make of this. ‘’I just meant that I don’t want to be the one keeping you up, uh, you know?’’ You stumble. All of a sudden, all shy for him, again.

‘’You’re so crazy.’’ Lewis tells you as he steps closer towards you, putting his hand on your cheek, lightly lifting up your face, so you’re forced to face his. ‘’You really think I’d prefer sleeping over this?’’

He really is daring. How does he just take what he wants and gets away with it, too?

‘’You might.’’ You smirk. Lewis suddenly loosens his grip on you, as if he had just realized the same as you did. This wasn’t going to end well, and the both of you had to slow it down.

‘’Let me take you to your room.’’ Lewis spoke confidently, the words making your heart jump out of its’ place. He noticed the shocked expression on your face and let out a smile. ‘’You’re going to sleep, little lady.’’ He reassured you.

Walking beside him even felt powerful, for some reason. Your heart was beating faster and faster, the nearer you came to your bedroom door and shockingly, the house is fairly quiet. Lari is probably back in her room with Patricia, Alex is in his with Lara and the rest of the house is most likely out for the night. It gives you peace of mind, though. No one is coming to you tonight, and you can process Lewis slowly while you’re in bed, you figured. Let everything sink in and probably do some fan-girling about the most gorgeous creature you had ever seen.

Lewis turns back to you, meanwhile opening your door behind him, gesturing for you to go inside. ‘’So, I really, really, really loved meeting you. Everyone was right about you.’’

‘’What’s that?’’ You chuckle as you enter your bedroom, and after some steps set your eyes back on his.

Lewis is now leaning against the entrance of your bedroom, glancing into your eyes before smiling at the ground. He looks grateful, for some reason. It suits him. How is he so damn beautiful again?

He takes a deep sigh before speaking.

‘’You’re for sure the most beautiful girl, but it’s far from your best feature.’’ He speaks, pointing his eyes back up at yours.

‘’I think sleep is getting to you now.’’ You laugh. ‘’Go, I’ll see you tomorrow.’’

You walk over to him, place a kiss on his cheek and close the door behind you, before resting your back against the closed door. What a day.

The next morning, you woke up around 7 AM, lazy and still half asleep you made your way down to the kitchen. ‘’Make me some too?’’ Lewis’ sleepy voice filled the empty kitchen. Shocked, you dropped the hot cup of tea you were holding. ‘’Hey! Watch it!’’ He shouted. He quickly made his way to you, in no time his big hands grabbed your wrists, before opening the cold water tap to cool your hands down.

Nervously you looked down at your slightly red-burnt hands, slowly realizing what had happened. You tried to figure out why he startled you so much, but it was no use. You knew better, and you knew you were in denial.

You had just realized that you were wearing nothing but a tiny silken mini-short and a small cropped top that you had been sleeping in. You made a mental note to start paying attention to what you’d wear, with your new housemate around. It was not a good look, especially with Bruno not here. You sighed. What was he even going to think of all this? Bruno was your boyfriend for years, and one of your best friends. You loved him dearly but it was just so… boring. There was love, but the idea of having that dull prep-school-boy-sex was just not doing it for you anymore. There was no challenge, no excitement left between the two of you. He kept you waiting for over a year, as he thought you were too young for it, only to find that the lust you had for him had slowly been dying all along.

At the same time, the realization that you were much younger than him (and Lewis) always made him vote for you to ‘’live’’, as he would call it. Experience whatever you could. You knew he probably would be all for you seeing Lewis, but it still made you feel bad for some reason.

‘’It’s fine.’’ You mumbled before walking back towards your room. It was so early; you could easily sleep for a couple more hours. Also, you really weren’t awake enough yet to deal with your little situation.

The next time you woke up, just three hours later, you made your way down to the kitchen, again having your morning routine interrupted. Two hands on your hips, a kiss on the back of your head. That smell… Bruno. You turned around and gave him a friendly hug, as he had just come back from a small getaway with his friends from his hometown in Brazil. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked. You knew he wasn’t expecting you to wait around for him, but still wanted to check up on you.

You thought for a second at how to answer him. ‘’Yes.’’ You said as you took a sip of your still hot tea. ‘’I met your friend.’’

Bruno raised an eyebrow at you, before leaning his head back and smiling. ‘’I see.’’ You loved how confident this man was.

You chuckled. He knew you so well. He knew his friend so well.

‘’Has Lewis treated you good?’’

‘’Yeah, he really has.’’ You smiled. ‘’He was kind to me.’’

‘’And Alex?’’ he continues while grabbing himself a drink. ’’I heard you were out with him.’’

You did love the fact that Bruno was like this. Always protective, always checking in on you. Whether you were ‘’with him’’ or not.

‘’Same as always, really. The fool is probably still sleeping with his date.’’ You said, unbothered. Bruno chuckled as he saw Alex enter the kitchen before you did, poking your side. ‘’Fuck you, you know.’’ Alex laughed.

‘’I didn’t mean to be meaaannnn…’’ You teased him as you dramatically turned your head towards him, as if you actually cared about being caught gossiping. ‘’How was it?’’ You and Bruno quickly started to hear him out before everybody would be up.

‘’So, guys, I think she is really into me.’’ Alex whispers.

‘’Oh yeah?’’ you smiled. ‘’Have your imaginary charms worked on this one?’’ You teased Alex some more.

The kitchen door suddenly opened and a confused Lara walked in on the three of you. You could tell she felt a bit out of place, but it was never your intention. You smiled and gestured for Bruno to leave to the dining room with you, leaving the two of them alone. ‘’Do you like him?’’ Bruno shoots as you as he pulled one of the chairs back for you. ‘’I don’t know, Bruno. I only just met him.’’ You really weren't in the mood for this conversation, especially not this early.

‘’It’s okay if you do, you know how I fee-‘’ Bruno started, but you quickly interrupted him. ‘’I know, please don’t worry.’’ You said, trying to escape the dreadful conversation.

‘’But I do worry about you, Y/N.’’ Bruno continues. ‘’I know Lewis. Better than you do.’’

The sentence keeps replaying in your head during breakfast. Is there something about him that you should know?

After breakfast, you got ready and made your way downstairs, figuring you’d go out to clear your mind for a little. You had to get your thoughts in order, and you really didn’t want to play with anyone’s feelings here.

As you were about to walk out, both Lari and Patricia stopped you. Clearly with the intention of hearing you out. It was just what you needed, though.

‘’Can you guys come with me?’’ You asked, voice low.

‘’Is everything okay?’’ They asked almost simultaneously as worried expressions were already appearing on their faces

‘’No, I just miss you guys.’’ You sighed. ‘’Also, you two are leaving soon and I just wanted to spend some time with my friends.’’

‘’Well, we’re going out tonight.’’ Patricia furrows her brows at you lightly.

‘’Great.’’ You said in a sarcastic tone. ‘’I’m being left out now, too?’’

‘’You’re so silly.’’ She laughs at you while putting her arm around your waist. ‘’We literally just decided that a few minutes ago, but we’re planning to drag the entire house.’’ Patricia said.

‘’Everyone will like the idea for sure, especially now that Bruno is back.’’ Lari adds.

‘’But come on, let’s get out of here for a bit.’’ Patricia continues, much to your gratitude. In no-time, the three of you were sat down at a nearby café, the couple in front of you enthusiastically chatting about their plans. ‘’So… I kinda wanted to ask you guys about Lewis.’’ You spilled.

Lari smiles down at her iced coffee and Patricia starts giggling at you. ‘’What?’’ Your red cheeks really didn’t help the situation. ‘’I like him for you.’’ Lari starts. ‘’He has an interesting side to him, to say the least.’’

‘’What’s that?’’

‘’The girls in his room could tell you all about that.’’ Patricia spilled as she rolled her eyes at Lari. Clearly not as enthusiastic about him as her girlfriend.

You felt a little demotivated by what you had just heard. Of course he was that type of guy. He just had to be. Someone so perfect, living in a paradise city like yours, what were you even expecting?

‘’So, he’s a player?’’ You asked your friends.

‘’Not necessarily, I just…’’ Patricia sighed. ‘’I think he is wild, but so are you. You just haven’t really discovered that side of yourself yet.’’

They were right. You were still young. Lewis was eight years older, in a much different stage of life. Your two friends had both noticed you lean back in your chair, before reassuring you. ‘’We’re going to be here for you, anyways. Just… don’t do things you’re not ready for, okay?’’ Patricia smiled at you while reaching for your hand.

‘’I won’t. You know me.’’

You would. You definitely would. There was no denying it. Those comforting brown eyes, those tattoos, his soft, plump lips… You were fucked.

Lari and Patricia left you to get to your local pilates class, before you’d go home to slowly start getting ready for the night. A quite promising one, if you had to believe your friends.

Your workout was tough, draining. Despite not being in the right headspace, you went all in, just because you figured you might feel better afterwards. It usually did help to relieve stress and all that, but today even working out wasn’t helping. A while after, you found yourself walking back to your house, still in your yoga leggings and top. Not paying much attention to your surroundings, as one of your currently favorite songs was playing in your earphones.

Brought you to my house for the night

Nervous, trip over my words You're so pretty, it hurts

Baby, I'm yours Baby, I'm yours Baby, I'm yours I need something more, I'll pray to the Lord That baby, I'm yours

You turned down the volume while turning the key inside the lock, immediately noticing how crowded it was inside the house, the noise easily heard from outside. Probably friends of friends eating and hanging out together. It wasn’t unusual for a hot summers’ day like this one, but as it was still a bit too much for you at the moment, you decided to directly make your way to your room. You dropped your bag on the floor next to your bed and freed your hair from the tight ponytail it was in. You gasped as you heard your bedroom door close behind you, startling you. Lewis.

‘’What the –‘’ you almost whispered.

‘’I had to see you.’’ Lewis speaks, tone all serious. He didn’t sound like his flirty self, at all.

‘’Couldn’t you wait until -’

‘’No. I had to see you alone.’’

You let yourself sink onto your bed, as you kept your eyes onto him.

‘’What is it?’’

Lewis sits down in front of you on your bed. ‘’People are going to talk and try to warn you.’’ He started. ‘’I know that, I’m not stupid, Y/N.’’

‘’And I know you might have your doubts, but I promise you, I’m not some asshole that’s just after one thing.’’

‘’I see.’’ You raised your eyebrows and looked down at your lap. ‘’Stick around.’’ He continues. ‘’I might just surprise you.’’ ’’I just might.’’ You said as you got up and grabbed a towel from your dresser and put it on the nearby bathroom shelve. He was here now, you might as well hear him out yourself.

‘’So, all the girls you’ve been with, if I’m supposed to believe the stories…’’ You curiously ask while preparing for your shower. ‘’Hm?’’ You heard Lewis, who was still sat on your bed, watching your every move. ‘’Those were all meaningless?’’

Lewis thought for a second, before answering. ‘’Well, not necessarily, but all of them knew what they were getting themselves into, you know.’’ You peek at him from the bathroom door, wearing nothing but your underwear and pilates top now, noticing Lewis’ readjusting the way he was sitting on your bed, clearly getting uncomfortable in his jeans. Interesting. ‘’I mean, I’m not just some heatbreaker, if that’s what you mean.’’ He hummed your way and continued, before you looked up at the mirror, flinching as Lewis was now stood right behind you. Oh, shit.

He kept his eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror, before taking a step closer to you. You tried hard not to quiver as you felt his chest on your back. He was so intimidating, so gorgeous, so big. Your heart was pounding so hard, you could only hope he wasn’t noticing it at this point. Past the point of putting on a tough act, you nervously stood still, completely unsure of what to expect. He got closer, caging you to the bathroom sink with his arms at each of your sides, as you felt all of his body, as well as the thick bulge in his pants. You stood frozen, almost anxious by his actions. He moved one of his hands to your sides and slipped it all the way up to your sweaty neck, before running a single finger down it, and down to your collar bone. ‘’Do you need some help cleaning that?’’ He whispers into your ear. You got so weak from his words alone.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and the exact effect it had on you. You moaned softly, barely audible and looked down at the sink when he grabbed your arms from behind and pulled you closer onto him. ‘’Look at me when I’m talking to you.’’ He angrily said, clearly displeased. ‘’I might.’’ You whispered. Lewis loosened his grip on you, making you lean back against the sink, as he gave you a loving, but promising smile, you immediately returning it. ‘’So, you’ve never done that before?’’ Straight shooter, this guy. ‘’What exactly?’’ He created a small distance between the two of you, and leaned against the bathroom wall, giving you a serious look. ‘’Shower sex.’’ He furrowed his brows as if he was already in disbelief. ‘’No.’’ ‘’Good.’’ He surprised you. The answer shocked you. What exactly was good about not being as experienced as the girls he always appeared to bring home? ‘’That means I can be your first.’’ He smiled before leaving you to actually get in the shower.

As the cold water poured down your hair and body, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of Lewis. Images of him kept flashing through your mind, as if he held you in some sort of spell.

You walked out of the shower and let yourself fall down on the bed for a few minutes, grabbing your phone from your bag. 6 PM. It was time to start getting ready and you really didn't know whether to feel excited or nervous about it. Luckily, Patricia had entered your room to get ready with you and also, to make sure you actually were ready on time. You started on your make-up, before blow-drying your long hair and eventually starting your ever existing crisis of deciding what to actually wear. "Black, please." Patricia read your mind.

"It's so dark..." you sighed. "Won't it be boring?"

"Babe." Patricia stated as she threw one of your favorite black mini dresses your way. "There is no such thing as you and boring in the same sentence." She spoke as the sped up song was playing in your room.

We're getting closer Inches away Lose composure Favorite mistake Friendship's over Won't be the same

Baby, I'm yours Baby, I'm yours I need something more But, baby, I'm yours

You tried your hardest to shift your mind elsewhere and ended up re-considering your outfit. You didn’t want to attract too much attention, but didn’t want to be underdressed either. She was right. Eventually you had settled for the black strapless mini dress and grabbed a pair of strappy, high orange heels along with some golden jewelry, a perfect match with your tanned body.

Just a quick 30 minutes later, you found yourself entering the big night club, where the atmosphere was alluring, but hot as hell. It felt suspiciously promising, for some reason you couldn't quite place. The dim lighted big open space had you feeling beyond curious. Patricia joyfully shouted to get drinks behind you and Lari, as you made your way to the bar. ‘’Anything to get us shit-faced, please.’’ She winked at the barman. Before you knew it, strong drinks started flowing down your throat as if they were water. You had a very high tolerance when it came to alcohol and it was really hard to get you drunk, so you didn’t really have much to worry about, luckily. After a short while of drinking and dodging flirty eyes, you decided you wanted to find the boys. Especially that one you couldn’t take your mind off of.

You took a quick look around you, as you got up from your seat. None of them were around, much to your surprise. Lari had noticed and took your arm, as a mutual smile exchanged between the two of you. ‘’Let’s find him.’’ She whispered into your ear.

The three of you made your way upstairs, up to the more private part of the club. A few steps closer, and you could actually start seeing things. Bruno and Lewis sitting together, clearly enjoying themselves. It had made you feel something you couldn’t quite place, but it was almost arousing to you. The corner was full of their friends, and Alex with Lara on his lap. The way the unknown girls in the club were simping over your housemates, was something you didn’t particularly like, but there was just no way you’d show it. You turned towards Lari, away from the both of them to show her the facial expression that was showing your true feelings. ‘’Uhm uhm.’’ Lari coughed, before leaving you alone. ‘’Hm?’’ You hummed in her direction, but it was too late. ‘’You look beautiful.’’ Lewis whispered in your ear, making goosebumps run down your body. He had gotten up from where he was sitting and made his way towards you, meaning everyone was seeing the two of you together now. You turned towards his smiling self, allowing his eyes to look you up and down. ‘’I don’t want to distract you from your company.’’ You snatched at him. If he wanted to play, you’d play.

‘’Then you should have stayed home.’’ He whispered as he came close to you again, pulling your body onto his by your waist. You knew exactly what he meant. It was too late to run from him now.

The night continued, you found yourself quickly making friends with the rest of the boys, laughing and drinking under the liberating atmosphere of the club. Lewis was seated to your left, Alex and Lara to your right.

‘’Quite a show they’re giving us huh?’’ ‘’We could do better.’’ Your alcohol influenced mouth spilled. Lewis adjusted his jeans; you knew he was getting uncomfortable in them for the second time today. Your whispers and movements would make sure of that. You weren’t even sure what you had gotten yourself into, but his hand that was playing with your lower back was slowly moving up to your neck, before grabbing your hair, pulling you slowly and softly towards him. ‘’Don’t tease me.’’ He warns you, voice spitting anger.

And I'm back to my ways 'cause I'm heartless All this money and this pain got me heartless Low life for life 'cause I'm heartless Said I'm heartless Tryna be a better man but I'm heartless

The loud music, the bass of The Weeknd’ song was putting you in all sorts of vibes at this point, more and more hungry for Lewis and what he had to offer. You were so eager to see him, his body, his everything… How he must have looked under those clothes. ‘’I’m not even, can you imagine?’’ You noticed your confidence went up the more you drank.

Not long after, you moved to the bar by yourself, enjoying crossing the lines a bit too much. You noticed someone staring you down, before allowing your eyes to meet with the handsome Portuguese guy that had been trying his hardest to get your attention. He had started to get a little too comfortable around you, while you didn’t even mean to flirt with him. Probably just because of the alcohol, as your eyes were set on somebody else. Frankly, you couldn’t be less interested in the dude.

It was late. Too late. For a split second you saw the strangers’ hand coming oddly close to you before you saw how he almost fell to the floor and grabbed onto another guy that was standing behind him, a result of Lewis pushing him away from you. ‘’Man what the fuck is wrong with you?!’’ The stranger shouted out, taking a step towards Lewis. ‘’We’re having a good time, what is your problem?!’’ ‘’My problem is you not staying away from the girl.’’ Lewis said as he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you behind him. ‘’Lewis I’m fine.’’ You sighed. ‘’Nothing happened.’’ The stranger angrily shook his head before departing, as Lewis turned towards you and pulled you closer to him. ‘’You don’t want to see what will happen if I find out he did touch you.’’ Shivers ran down your body as he guided you in front of him, directing you to sit back in your spots as he glanced back in the strangers’ direction one more time.

The early morning hours were approaching quicker than you hoped, but there was nothing to do about it. Before you’d like, the taxi had taken a turn towards your street.

‘’You shouldn’t play with fire so much.’’ Lewis smiles at you before kissing you on your cheek as you entered the house, the last two to arrive home. Dizzy and slightly confused by tonight’s’ events, you took your heels off, before walking towards your bedroom. The drinks, the music, the tension of the last couple of days, it was all getting to you. Lewis didn’t like the way you stopped in your steps and leaned against the wall and made his way towards you. God, you were never this heavily influenced by alcohol before. ‘’Are you okay?’’ He asked, voice full of concern. You looked up to him, tired and worn out, while messily picking up your heels from the floor. ‘’Yeah, just really tired.’’

The next thing you felt was Lewis’ arms picking you up as if you weighed absolutely nothing and carried you to your bedroom, much to your surprise. You lovingly leaned your head onto his chest and closed your eyes, wishing you could stay safe in his arms forever. He carefully opened the door and laid you down on the bed, before sitting at your side. Slowly, he moved your hair out of your face before leaning closer towards your face, earning a loving smile from you as well as a happy sigh. ‘’You just keep surprising me; did you know that?’’

‘’Opposites really do attract, huh?’’ You smiled. ‘’They sure do.’’ He whispers onto your lips.

You looked at his lips, back at his eyes, and his were on yours. They were so soft, so plump, it made you feel warm inside. His kiss was so different from any other you had ever had, so much more vivid. You pulled him closer to you on the bed, and before you knew it, felt the weight of his body on yours. So many thoughts flashed through your head, was this really happening? Thoughts that had somehow became worries. Lewis slowly pulled away and leaned on his hand next to you. ‘’Don’t worry.’’ He smiles. ‘’We’re not doing anything you’re not ready for.’’

‘’Who said I’m not ready?’’ You pouted.

Lewis grins at you, before kissing your forehead and made his way out, leaving you alone in your bed. Perhaps for the best. You let your head fell back down on the soft pillows, and in no-time, you drifted off in a long sleep that felt like it lasted for days.

Weeks had passed, weeks of spending most of your time with your friends, going out, days on the beaches. It was one hell of a summer, basically doing everything you wanted, whenever you wanted. At least, everything but one thing. You and Lewis hadn’t been getting that close again, ever since the night after the nightclub. Was he afraid? Was he not that into you? Was the wait too much for him? Was he getting bored?

You were trying to spend as little time as possible thinking about it. Maybe it wasn’t all worth it, maybe you had been seeing things that weren’t there, but no matter what, it wasn’t worth ruining your summer over it. You tried to block out any negative thoughts, as you lowered yourself into your car, ready to spend a day by yourself, as you got interrupted by a knock on your window.

You opened it. Lewis. ‘’Hi sunshine.’’ He smiled at you. His hair was neatly tied up in a bun, leaving two braids out to frame his face. He had to be aware of what he was doing, there was just no other way. ‘’Where are you off to?’’ ‘’Just the beach.’’ ‘’Got room for one more?’’

The day was ending quicker than you had hoped, with nothing more than a steamy make-out session in between evening swims. Quite romantic, playing around on the beach with Lewis. The hot sun was burning so bright, only boosting your confidence and love for the hot climate. Tanned body, a little bright yellow bikini, the blonde highlights in your hair only getting lighter. Couldn’t it just be summer forever?

Something was missing, though. Logic, probably. It was hard to think about it, and you didn’t want to come across as if you were chasing Lewis. You thought I’d be best to just let it be. It got harder and harder to assume what he was thinking, and what it was precisely that he wanted.

After a long shower of trying to wash all the sand and salty water off of your body, you found yourself back in your bed, window open, soft nightly breeze hitting your bare face. Turning a thousand times, trying to position yourself right so you could sleep… it just wasn’t working. Not at all. It was so hard to shake the thoughts you kept having. Flashbacks from the first time you had met Lewis outside of your house, him appearing out of nowhere in your bedroom, the nightclub… As well as all the phrases your friends had told you about him.

You tried to shake it all once more and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. 3:16 AM. You thought about it, about not doing it. But courage had come over you, and you were going to make use of it. You knew what you wanted. More importantly, you knew who you wanted.

You lift yourself up slowly, and sat up straight for a few moments, until eventually, you got up from your bed.

Gently, trying to make as little sound as possible, which was a hard task considering the old, creaking wooden floor under your feet. You opened your door and slowly started walking down the long hallway of your house, wearing nothing but your silk bottoms and a long-sleeved crop top, hair messily down in a braid. You stopped when you reached the last door on the right, heart pounding in your throat.

Softly you knocked a few times before opening the door.

‘’Lewis?’’ you whispered into the dark bedroom. His bed was placed under his window, big and halfway opened. He hummed a bit, probably half asleep, until you got closer. He rubbed his eyes, before opening them to you. ‘’Y/N?’’ ‘’What’s wrong?’’ he sleepily said as he grabbed his phone to check the time and put it back on his nightstand. ‘’I couldn’t sleep.’’ You sighed softly. ‘’Come here.’’ He said as he readjusted himself and raised the blanket for you. You hadn’t even been in his room before, let alone in his bed. You crawled next to him, Lewis immediately wrapping his arm around you, pulling you onto his chest and placing a soft kiss on your head. Only then you had noticed that he was completely naked under the blanket, his toned, big body shimmering in the light of the street lanterns that were partly lighting up his bedroom.

As you noticed his breathing, that told you he hadn’t gone back to sleep, you softly drew circles on his upper chest with your finger, him getting more and more relaxed under you, before gathering all the courage left inside of you.

‘’I want you, Lewis.’’ It was out before you knew it, and you had felt him making some sort of facial expression as his jaw clenched. He tilted his head down to face you, as if he wanted to be sure of what you had just told him, but he knew exactly what you meant. ‘’Are you sure?’’ Lewis asks, tightening his grip on you.

It wasn’t that often anymore that you got Lewis to yourself, moments like these had almost become a privilege by now. ‘’Yes.’’ You whispered, nerves in your body had started to spread faster than you ever thought possible. ‘’I’ve never been more sure.’’ Just his naked body against yours felt thrilling, and insanely intimidating. He was big, strong, and all yours in these hours and it had made you feel oh so powerful. ‘’Make me yours.’’ You whispered onto his lips.

Lewis was quiet, before raising himself onto his arms and pulling you under him, placing each one of his arms next to your face. ‘’You’ll do good for me, baby.’’ He smiled before slowly leaning his head towards yours, kissing you so deeply it was almost hypnotic. His chains leaning on your neck was the only thing keeping you grounded, the rest of it felt much more dream-like.

‘’Will I?’’ you whispered, a flaunt worry audible in your voice.

Lewis furrowed one of his brows, which just made him look even sexier under the dimmed streetlights. ‘’I’m going to make sure of it.’’ Your heart jumped, you couldn’t help but feel a jolt of shock go right through you, all the way to your core. You had never met someone who knew what he was doing like this. Every move, every touch was pure euphoria. He locked eyes with you once more and brushed his finger on your lips. ‘’How rude of me to keep you waiting.’’ He thought out loud, while his eyes wandered around your face.

He started to place light kisses on your neck, all the way down to your chest area, making you moan softly. His lips felt so damn good. There was just no way that this wasn’t right, being under him felt like heaven. He made his way down, before releasing you from the small bottoms and top you were wearing, never stopping his kisses and licks, until he reached your core, placing a featherlight kiss on your clit. It made you moan even more, when he finally gave you what you had been aching for so long. He came back up to your face, one of his fingers slowly entering you. ‘’You’ll be fine wet.’’ Lewis said, as you returned his smile. ‘’I love this.’’ You whispered, almost too shy to tell him, but still wanting him to know. He smiled as he gazed your body up and down, as if he was quite literally preparing to eat his prey alive. Him exploring your undiscovered body only made you feel hotter and hotter.

You grabbed onto him as he slowly entered another finger, stretching you oh so good. Feeling the cold metal of his rings touching the fuming part of your body had just made you hungrier for more, as you imagined how good his tattooed hands must have looked at the moment. He curled his fingers up, hitting spots inside of you that made you feel something you’d never felt before. His free hand was on your lower stomach, pinning you down onto the bed, only adding to the effect of his fingers inside of you. ‘’You’ve thought of me while touching yourself, haven’t you?’’ His honesty caught you off guard, and your silence told him everything he needed to know.

Lewis leaned back down, keeping his two fingers inside of you as he started to lick you from your clit down, making you whimper. He kept increasing his pace, making your mind go more and more blank. ‘’You feel so good.’’ You moaned as you closed your eyes. ‘’Don’t look away.’’ He warned you as he stopped his movements. ‘’Lewis I-‘’

‘’Look away and I stop.’’ Your heart rate got so high as you locked your eyes back with the beautiful man. He had completely taken over your mind, all you could do was as you were told and give into him.

‘’You’ve kept me awake so many nights imagining you.’’ He said as he came back up to you. ‘’It’s your turn for a sleepless night, don’t you think?’’

Butterflies went wild inside of you, you were only hoping to not come across as too shy, but your flushed red cheeks had already exposed you.

‘’That’s my girl.’’ He said as he sped up his pace once more and you gasped at his quick change of movements. ‘’You’re so close.’’

Your body was trembling, aching for more, aching for him.

‘’Please Lewis I-‘’

‘’You what?’’ He firmly said as he grabbed your face with his free hand, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let out a high-pitched moan, hoping he would understand, but he wouldn’t have it. Your moan only made him squeeze you harder. ‘’Use your words.’’ Lewis spoke as he pulled your face more towards him, slightly raising his chin.

‘’I want you inside of me.’’ You whispered fearfully. Fearful, but curious. So curious as to what he felt like, especially knowing just his fingers were making you see stars just moments before. Lewis readjusted himself on his bed. He took his fingers out of you slowly, almost dripping with your juices, and tapped lightly on your bottom lip, once. ‘’Open up that pretty little mouth for me.’’ He commanded, and you did as you were told. Slowly his fingers reached deeper inside of your mouth, until you sighed of relief and let him enter as far as he wanted to. It felt electric, being at Lewis’ mercy, pleasing him. Your body relaxed, as his fingers hit the back of your throat, you completely trusting him.

Lewis released you of his grip and positioned himself in front of you, gently spreading your legs with his knee. ‘’You’ve made me dirty, but you’re about to make it up to me.’’ His tone serious.

Now would probably be a good time to rethink your actions, but you were completely worry-free. You felt nothing but lust for more, a small, content smile appearing on your lips as Lewis towered above you, leaning down towards your face on one elbow. ‘’Am I what you want, baby?’’

Expertly reading your body language just seconds before had already gave him his answer, but he wanted to hear you say it. ‘’I can’t think straight.’’ You admitted, clearly love-drunk. ‘’I need to hear you say it.’’ He whispered onto your lips. You sighed and took a look down at the man, as the early morning dawn had slowly started to brighten up the room. One look at him was enough, you wanted this. You needed this.

‘’Yes, I really do.’’ You whispered.

You gasped when you felt him touching your entrance, it was so much bigger than you expected, only raising your anticipation. ‘’It’ll be fine’’ Lewis voice echoed as he read your mind. The two of you moaned simultaneously when he slowly started to enter you, stretching you far more than his fingers had just done. It felt so good you felt tears welling up in your eyes, an unexplainable, euphoric tension running wild inside of you. ‘’Ugh, you feel so fucking good.’’ He moaned uncontrollably. His moans, his groans and the way his body tensed up above you was making you enter a whole new headspace. You lost it when he started rubbing your clit with his thumb, as he increased his pace inside of you. ‘’That’s it, baby.’’ He tried his best to stay calm and collected while completely losing himself inside of you, as you prayed the walls of this house were thick enough to mute your moans. Your orgasm had made you clench around him, only a few seconds before he lost control. ‘’How about I come inside of you, huh?’’ You moaned approvingly, moments before he did, leaving you in the rewarding state of mind you were in.

‘’That felt so good.’’ You moaned into the pillow, earning a loving smile from your new lover. He gave you a few moments to rest, before he picked you up in his arms, and carried you to the bathroom. ‘’Let me take care of you.’’ He whispered and placed a kiss on your messy hair, as your head was leaned against his chest. He sat you down on the edge of the bathtub, and gently started cleaning your body, before cleaning himself. You watched the soap wash off all the sweat, such a satisfying and beautiful image, as he locked his eyes on yours once more. He closed the tap and leaned towards you, wrapped a big towel around you and sat you down again. Kneeled in between your legs, as you looked down at him, satisfied and content. ‘’How do you feel?’’ he asked. ‘’Good.’’ You smiled. ‘’So good, and so tired.’’ You happily sighed.

Before you knew it, he took you in his arms again, gently lowering you into his bed with him, as you were already halfway asleep.

‘’I can’t wait for our future together.’’ He whispered.

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