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cheyisagirlkisser · 3 months ago

Text

. ✦ .R U Mine? FWB Ellie x Reader. ✦

Content: JACKSON ELLIE X FEM! READER, Alcohol consumption, friends with benefits, mentions of casual sex, some angst, Cat is Ellie's ex-girlfriend in this fic, making out in the rain, nipple play (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), scissoring, happy ending this is definitely an emotional roller coaster though, set in TLOU universe in which reader and Ellie are young adults, Joel is still alive and mentioned, Jesse and Dina are in a relationship in this, I know the pic is Seattle Ellie but this is still set in Jackson.

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: I know I literally just said I'd be releasing this in a week, get tricked. (I spent hours editing to finish this but it was so worth it)

Description: Ellie has always been bad with emotions. Dina tells you that what seems like everyday at this point. Still, you can't help but notice the way she leaves the morning after your nights together. You can feel the tension in the way she pretends like nothing happens during patrol together. Just when you think you finally have the situation figured out, it blows up in your face.

"How drunk are you?" Dina's voice echoes in your head, making you turn away from your current view and back onto the current conversation.

"Uhhhhhh…..however drunk you want me to be?” You giggle at Dina’s failed attempt to stifle a laugh.

“You are so doomed tomorrow..don’t you have patrol with Jesse?! And I thought you were gonna try to go talk to Ellie and make things less awkward..” Dina looks at you more sternly now.

You groan. “It’s not like it’ll even fuckin’ matter, she’ll just ignore me like she always does. Like she’s doing right now.”

You know that was a bit over dramatic, but it’s not untrue. Ellie and you have been seeing each other - no, fucking, for the past few months. Every single time you’re in public together, she mostly acts weird towards you, feigning disinterest. The act she puts on is hard to believe when she’s between your legs making you cum your brains out the next day. It’s not like you don’t understand the difference between love and lust. You absolutely understand it, especially in a place like Jackson where getting attached to someone can be riskful. However, Ellie is never a quick fuck-and-leave. Not only is the sex amazing, but she tells you things in the voice she limits for only you to hear, and things she says never make you wonder if she means them. Her actions, however, have you lost.

Ellie was a friend before all of this. She was no childhood friend who grew up with you but simply someone who you connected to well, and well was an understatement. You know almost everything about her, from her favorite rations to bring on long supply runs to her shower routine. Now, the two of you are really at a limbo; the patrols since the first hook-up have all been awkward, with Ellie being extremely quiet or overly nice, which may seem like a good thing but once again you know Ellie. She has never been the type to keep her mouth shut and clean. The crude jokes and sarcasm are your favorite pieces of her personality, and you just assumed at first that it was just her getting used to the dynamic. However, as time continues, it is still just as weird, and the two of you are hooking up just as often.

Currently, you’re wasted to no ends at a party in Jackson you wish you didn’t even go to. Of course, Ellie’s here joking around with Jesse in the far left of the backyard like nothing is weird between the two of you. Again, it may be dramatic, but you just hate the fact that you have to keep it all a secret from everyone. (You told Dina as soon as it happened, but that’s because you can’t keep secrets from your best friend!) You know that from the beginning, it was always supposed to be sex and a friendship. Both of you didn’t want a ton of commitment, but that changed overtime as the hook-ups started to last longer and the aftercare went from sitting in bed together to holding each other like lovers do. Dina warned you that Ellie isn’t good with her feelings, but it causes bitterness within you when she kisses the top of your head the other night then refuses to even say hi to you at a party.

You sigh, turning your attention back away from Ellie once more and onto Dina, who is trying her best to lecture you on why you should just talk to Ellie instead of letting the situation get so awkward, but you’re not really hearing her. You’re not typically a melancholic drunk, but Ellie really has a knack for bringing that side out of you, especially when she’s halfway across the yard talking Jesse’s head off and refusing to make eye-contact. Every time she laughs, it stabs at your heart. Not because she’s happy, but because you want to be the one to cause that feeling in her. You want to be the reason she smiles and giggles, you want to hear all of the swear words she wants to say and the stupid jokes she likes to come up with. You honestly miss her, and you know it’s stupid that you even fell for her, but you hope that someday things will at least be normal once more. Not that you wanna lose the sex, though.

Dina drags you over to the mentioned group and forces her boyfriend Jesse to escort you home. You don’t argue back. You’re too sad to argue and it’s embarrassing to be on the verge of tears as Ellie’s silence next to is continued.

You can’t help but think of Ellie, even when you’re all snug in your bed and half-conscious. It’s the memory of her face as you walked away and how she glanced over to you but never spoke up. She would have made your day so much better with a simple ‘hello.’ It’s not her fault, you tell yourself. It was never ever her fault but yours. Still, you feel so bitter wondering where it all went wrong for you.

Usually, you never experienced such a level of attachment to one person. It’s not like love was new and you were far from a virgin when you and Ellie first hooked up, but something about her is engraved in your head and you just can’t escape it. You picture the button-like curve of her nose and the way light reddens her hair, a color that is almost impossible to make out in the confines of the indoors. Sometimes, you wonder if Ellie was born to be part of nature. She smells so Earthly and the way she moves, converse padding through grass, it’s like when you see someone practicing a hobby meant for them: you just know it’s meant to be that way. You used to love going on patrol with her for that reason, to be able to see her so comfortably scavenging and on Shimmer’s back. Now, it’s stiff and awkward, and the sense of fate that you feel when seeing her do what she is so naturally good at is challenged by her distance.

Deep within your thoughts, you’re pulled out by a creak and the sound of your window opening. You quickly sit up, attempting to dry your tears with your sleeve when you see Ellie clumsily diving into your bedroom. Usually in the circumstance of being angry with someone, you know that you would tell them to fuck off. Ellie, however, cannot be told that. Her charm on you is far too wrapped around you like vines to concrete and so you laugh even through the tears.

“Your window is fuckin’ narrow, you know.”

“I wouldn’t know. I use the front door.” Despite the snark in your words, your voice cracks slightly as you sniffle and try to hold back the hot tears.

Ellie sighs, and you can tell she is holding back. You hate this, the way conversation still flows at little points in time before continuing onto becoming nothing but awkward, stiff silence. Ellie surprises you and moves quickly to sit on your bed near you, pulling you into her arms.

You know you shouldn’t crumble, but you do. Her embrace is so warm despite the fact that tomorrow it’ll be non-existent, and so you cling onto her while you still can. Your tears dribble down your cheeks and onto her shirt where the material grows damp. She only holds you tight, not making any further moves. Somehow, that is worse than the latter. The idea that this is what the relationship (if you can even call it that) has become is so emotionally involved, now there is no doubt that there is more, but there won’t be in the morning.

You grieve the moment for what it could’ve been and fall asleep in Ellie’s arms as she coos you so softly, whispering sweet reassurances, only taking your tears as drunken sadness and not for what it was - her own doing.

When you were once a young girl, you found comfort in the sound of clocks. The rhythmic tick, tick, tick lulled you to sleep. Now, you awake to the same ticking coming from the round clock mounted on your wall by a nail behind it. The familiar sunlight is plastering the bed in patterns much like time itself, telling you that the day is ahead of you and that you cannot sleep it off for much longer. Of course, Ellie’s presence is lacking. She left before you woke up. It hurts more than the other times that you opened your eyes to see that the girl you slept with the night before had left you, because she held you so dearly the previous night in a way that is always more than friendly or sexual. The inbetween of that must be hard for her to differentiate.

You arrive at the East gates around 8 am, and Jesse is there waiting for you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey. You ready to head out?”

“Yeah, sorry if I’m running a bit late.”

Jesse lets out a small laugh at that. “I won’t hold you to it. You were pretty hammered last night.”

You avoid his teasing gaze, knowing full-well his words ring true. You were embarrassingly drunk last night, and you probably said some things to him that you don’t even remember now, but he definitely does.

“You act like you weren’t drinking too!”

“Oh, please. I’ve been drunk but not that drunk. You were white-girl wasted.”

That makes you laugh, but at the same time your heart clenches along with your uneasy stomach. That’s a term one freckle-faced girl is known for saying because of Joel.

“Can we just get on with patrol now?” Jesse rolls his eyes at your whiny tone and short dismal, but nods anyway and begins to signal for the guards to open up the large gates. You sigh, taking reluctant steps out of Jackson along with him. “My head’s killing me and I need to get this over with so that I can go home and nap.”

The first 30 minutes of patrol goes just as expected, the trek to the neighborhood you were assigned to clear and search through is long and boring. Jesse isn’t much of a talker when it comes to patrols, usually sticking to professionalism. That doesn’t surprise you much. While Jesse likes to drink and have a good time, he’s always taken patrol seriously. You recall countless times you’ve heard him scold other people for not taking their work seriously enough, and you partially understand. The lives of the people in Jackson all count on each other to do their jobs efficiently. Still, you know that patrol can be boring and nerves can be high. Sometimes, people just need to have a bit of humor in their lives to keep things from getting too grim. Afterall, leading an overall grim life as a patroller is no way to live. It’d tear your spirit out, starting from the inside.

However, as you reach the building, Jesse stops in his tracks. His usual disposition is broken and he turns to you with a sigh.

“Listen..” He struggles to find the words, “I just wanted to talk to you about something that I’ve noticed.”

You hope this isn’t going where you think it is. “Yeah?”

“Ellie’s one of my best friends, and I can tell something’s going on between the two of you, even if she won’t tell me.” He notices your visible discomfort at the mention of Ellie, but presses on. “I’m just warning you that she’s not good with her feelings. She can be all awkward and weird about them, but you’re a good person. I know she cares about you.”

You don’t answer immediately, a bit caught off guard by his words. Still, they resonate with you. You’ve heard this from Dina too, but you previously wondered if she was only wanting to give you a soft landing. Dina, as much as you love her, has a tendency to try to avoid hurting your feelings. Jesse is quite the opposite, and you know that what he says has meaning to it.

“Thanks, Jesse.” You give him a slight smile, and he nods.

“Just talk to her, okay? You guys are both great. You deserve better than whatever the fuck you’ve got goin’ on.”

You can’t help but laugh slightly at that despite anxiety churning through you. If Jesse sees potential, why can’t it be realistic to think that you and Ellie have a shot at being more than just friends who often have sex? Why can’t you be girlfriends?

The rest of the patrol is still half better, half worse. You’re anxious about actually talking to Ellie about your feelings and the aching from the previous night hasn’t faded. The task of taking out infected is just as dreadful because you know that in any moment, all of your current problems can become squabble compared to the issue you’d be faced with if a bite were to be imprinted into your flesh. It’d be tragic. Still, you have hope. You carry hope with you that soon, you may get to make some progress with her and get out of this weird spot. You think about that hope every moment that your knife is plunged into the rotten fungi-covered skin of another clicker.

Before, your plan was to make a bee-line for your own house and sleep off the liquor from the night before, to get some actual sleep. Now, your feet seem to lead you to the path of Ellie’s garage. You’re just ready to see her and get the difficult conversation over with so that you can finally know how she feels.

On the way, your heart races with hope and fear. Questions circle around your head like bees swarming their hive; will Ellie reciprocate your feelings? Even if she does, will she want to actually be in a relationship with you? She may not even feel the same way.. You have to stop yourself from going overboard. As you reach her little garage, you take a deep breath and mentally count the seconds in your head.

Tick, tick, tick…One, two, three..

Everything will be fine. Even if this doesn’t work out, you can at least move on from her and have closure. You can’t help but smile at the thought of no longer having to deal with awkward patrols and weird conversations. Finally, you walk towards the garage door; your steps are faster than before and charged with nerves. Your hands are shaky but your mind is determined.

You stop yourself from knocking on her door when you hear the sound of laughter.

You recognize the all-too-familiar laughter that belongs to Ellie, of course. It always makes your heart tumble into your stomach upon hearing it. However, you hear another fit of giggles beside hers that cause a clenching in your heart. Was she with another girl…?

You quickly pad towards her window, her curtains opened wide of course. From even just the side, you can see the scene inside of her room. Ellie is sitting in bed with Cat. You feel sick to your stomach at the sight of the girls so effortlessly talking, something Ellie hasn’t bothered to give you in months besides the times you’re in bed together, naked for her.

Cat is drawing on her arm and it makes you livid with jealousy. You know that she and Ellie dated before. You can’t help but wonder if this is the reason that Ellie holds back from you. Was she really still in love with her ex-girlfriend all of this time? Were you just a rebound to her?

Your heart breaks within you, and you’re more hurt than you are angry. The frustration is definitely there, though. You don’t bother to knock, storming back off to your home.

Ellie knew from a young age who she was. She has a foul mouth, likes nerdy things that others may insult her for, and she likes women. Her sexuality may have been a bit of a spectacle in Jackson. When she and Cat were seen holding hands when they were together, she was forced to get used to the stares thrown at them. They built her up into everything she is today. However, Ellie is nothing if not troubled.

Her emotions aren’t so easily adaptable. Her feelings feel murkier at times and clear at others, yet she cannot convey them in the ways others do. She knows that she is in love with you. She feels an emptiness when she is away from you for too long and wonders if it would be smart to let herself be so honest with you, to risk losing you after spending the rest of her days with you. She struggles to convey all of that, too; what if you find her to be overwhelming? Sex with you may be one thing, but these feelings could scare you away. She can’t lose you.

Perhaps her lack of proper conveyal pushed you further away from her grasp.

It seems that you won’t talk to her anymore. She can’t pinpoint what is causing the change, but all she knows is that it is all too real. You, for some reason, won’t volunteer to patrol with her anymore. You don’t knock on her door, even if it’s just for that one thing that has been the main foundation of your relationship for the past few months. You lack the softness in your gaze when you’re in her presence; you lack to gaze at her at all.

Something in Ellie is entirely disheartened by your sudden absence in her life. She knows that she was awkward before, but she genuinely wanted to tell you how she felt about you. She wanted to carve your name into the surface of her heart so that she can only bleed you, as if your hands don’t squeeze at the organ enough. She recalls the times that she’d take deep inhales of your hair after sex just to be filled with your scent. She thinks about the last time she got to hold you and how she left after, just because she couldn’t live with it if you rejected her in the morning.

For weeks, this avoidance continues. At first, Ellie tries to speak to you. You ignore her or brush her off with short responses every time. After a while, she begins to pull away as well. That is, until you’re walking home in the rain as the crash of thunder surrounds Jackson at all angles.

Your boots make wet pitter-patter noises as you try your best to hurry back home after a late patrol. The sky is dark, the only source of light is your own flashlight and the dim street-lights that make a path down the street. Unfortunately, your house is so far from the center of Jackson that it requires a longer journey to get home than it does for most people. You live on the outskirts, which can be good for privacy, but not so good for travel.

You wish that you had brought an umbrella with you earlier before leaving your house. Now, it doesn’t matter. All you can focus on is getting home and not being struck down in lightning. In a world filled with fungi-based zombies, you’d think that something as unique as being fried from a thunderstorm would be the least of your worries. Your steps quicken until they don’t.

You trip face-first into the gravel, your skin on fire from the sudden harsh tumble. Your clothes are covered in mud and dirty rain water, some pebbles sticking to the soaked fabric. You groan in discomfort, but you’re halted from your progress in rising when you look up to see a frantic Ellie staring down at you.

“Holy shit, are you okay?! What the hell are you doing out here, it’s raining cats and dogs..”

Usually, you’d laugh at that joke. Instead, you avoid her gaze and try to stand, wincing at the soreness from the fall and the scrape on your knee left from the sharp gravel.

“I’m fine. I just got back from patrol.” Your words are so boring and short, it makes Ellie’s heart ache. She misses how things used to be.

“You’re not gonna make it all the way back to your house like this.” She states, and you know she is right, unfortunately. Your clothes leave you feeling like a wet dog, dirty and half-way drenched. Your knee is probably bleeding, and you simply don’t want to walk all of the way home. Still, you’d rather do that than face Ellie after what you witnessed.

“I can make it, I’ve walked home before.”

Ellie scoffs at your stubborn, dry tone. “Yeah, no shit. But not like this. C’mon, just come back to the garage. You can borrow my clothes and I’ll ask Joel for a first-aid kit.”

That sounds so like Ellie to offer. You remember countless nights in her garage, some before the whole situation happened when you only played video games and let her read you comics until you were snoring on her couch. You also remember the late nights spent against her, panting as she made you cum in any way she could, only to act as if it didn’t happen the next day. The thought makes you grow bitter.

“Maybe I don’t wanna go home with you.” You state in a monotone, or at least try to. You pray that she can’t hear the break in your voice, notice how your already wet face is easily splotched with a cluster of tears.

That makes Ellie’s heart completely squeeze within her body. “But..why?”

“Why?! Because you led me on, Ellie!”

Ellie’s eyes widen at that. She didn’t expect that. “Lead you on? How..How did I lead you on? I know I was awkward, but I-”

You quickly cut her off, your voice raising with pent-up hurt. “It’s not about your stupid awkwardness! It’s about the fact that I was clearly just a rebound.”

Ellie goes silent at that. A rebound? What the hell were you talking about? A rebound for who?

“A rebound? What are fuck are you even saying right now..? I never..” Her voice trails off, she’s clearly confused; that only fuels your anger further.

“You only agreed to sleep with me because you wanted to get over Cat. Am I right, or am I right?” Your tone slides from angry to practically livid. Underneath it all is pure heart-break.

“That’s not even true! I’ve been over Cat for a couple years now and you know that. Why would I still like her after this long?”

“I saw you and her in your stupid garage, Ellie!” As you shout, lightning strikes, causing you both to flinch. You should just turn away and rush inside, rush anywhere indoors. You know that. Still, you’re too focused on all of the hurt inside of you. “I saw her drawing all over your arm and I heard your laughter. You never laughed like that for me unless we were fucking. You never smiled at me like you smile at her, or Jesse, or even Joel for fuck’s sake.” You feel sobs bubble up from your throat and the rain pouring down upon the two of you. “I just wanted you to be happy with me like how you were before. Instead of…just pretending like we were nothing at all.”

Ellie looks like she’s about to argue back, but her words best her. She instead moves to stand in front of you, and even despite the tension and distance between the two of you, you can’t help but think about how beautiful Ellie looks, her soaked bangs glued to her forehead and her clothes soaked, clinging onto her slender form. She cups your face almost hesitantly, her fingers brushing against your jaw as if she’s afraid you’ll push away. She can feel the heat of your tears in contrast to the coldness of the rain water on your wet face. She aches at the difference.

“Listen to me..please..” Her voice, so soft and intimate, makes you want to do whatever she asks. She is so gentle even as the thunder booms once more, almost making you jolt again. “Cat was only drawing on my arm because I wanted to get a new tattoo, and I’ve been well over her for years now. We might’ve dated when we were young, but all we are now is a friendship. I needed her advice on you. I wanted to know what to do, how to tell you how I feel..”

You look up at her, your voice hesitant. “And how do you feel?”

She exhales, a shaky and addictive sound. “I don’t want Cat back. I want you back..I miss you. I miss the goofy shit we used to do on patrol.” She chokes out a laugh, ironic for the speech and the nerves she’s feeling from confessing all of this to you. “I miss hearing your laughter, I miss how you smell so lovely even when you live in a fucking apocalypse. I yearn to hear you talk to me. Talk to me about anything. I miss the way you sneeze, the way you stumble over yourself like how you just did and got your damn patrol clothes all muddy.” She takes one final moment to savor your face, to memorize your features right in front of her in case you reject her final confession. “I don’t love Cat. I love you.

Her words hit you so deeply, right in the heart where you need to feel her. You don’t hesitate to lean in and Ellie almost immediately meets your lips in a bruisingly desperate kiss.

Your hands grasp at her face like she’ll disappear in any moment, fingers finding her hair and pulling at the wet, tangled strands of auburn.. She pulls you closer by the waist and her palm can feel sensations that make her believe this moment is something straight out of a dream. Dots of rain fall upon the both of you as her lips pull your bottom one in between them, making you gasp softly and part your lips. She takes full advantage, slipping her tongue into your mouth.

The two of you are now impossibly close as your mouths slide against each other so needily, so fervently. Every brush, every wet smack of your lips ignites more than just a fire between the two of you. Ellie is itching to keep you like this, but she desperately misses all of you. She wants to devour you and solidify the fact into existence that you are hers, and you won’t ever doubt her love for you.

Droplets of rain wetten the kiss further, but they do nothing to prevent the heat of your mouths enveloped, or stop the way the two of you push and pull closer to each other like magnets. The only thing that breaks the kiss is a sudden bolt of lightning rather close to your location.

Breathless, Ellie’s forehead meets your own. “We should go back to my garage.” You nod, and quickly, the two of you scamper off to Joel’s backyard in which her small place is located.

Inside, Ellie’s lips meet yours once more, thirsting and full of longing. Damp clothes are pulled off of the two of you; bodies meet each other and you can feel every inch of Ellie against every centimeter of you. Her stiff nipples graze yours, making you shiver despite the warmth of her garage.

“Say you love me again,” you plead with her so breathlessly.

She doesn’t hesitate to be truthful, not after holding back for so long. “I love you. I love you so much, it hurts.”

Her lips drag down your neck, her hands guiding your hips to walk back towards her bed. You fall onto the soft mattress and her body quickly follows yours. Each swipe of her tongue over your skin sends sparks of pink electricity through your veins and between your legs.

“I need you, Els.” You’re panting, a delirious mess and yet more content than you’ve been in a long time.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’ll give you all of me. I’m yours now.”

Ellie’s body is smothering yours, and she has to settle further down to make contact with your tits. Her mouth is all over the soft, bumpy texture of your nipples, lapping at the hardened peaks to send little shudders through your spine. Your body craves her after so long, but you appreciate all she gives you. Her mouth takes its time on each of your nipples, her love so needy and desperate yet savoring. You grasp at her messy hair, trying to pull her up to kiss you.

When her bare weight settles back onto yours, your mouths soon meet for a slower, but just as intense kiss. You take your time to slide your tongue against hers and lick into her mouth, exploring her as if your time here would last forever. Her body involuntarily grinds against yours and though there’s not direct friction onto either of your clits, you still whimper into each other’s throats.

Ellie’s palm slides down between your humid bodies as she distracts you with her tongue swirling against yours, a delicious sensation you can’t seem to find anywhere else. Her fingers suddenly rub at your clit, making you moan into her mouth, an eager sound so easily swallowed.

This isn’t the first time she’s touched you like this, not even the second time. Still, your body reacts as if this is all new. The way she touches you is sloppy and passionate, not anything in comparison to the previous hook-ups in which she was able to make you cum but gave you what was a watered down, held back version. Now she can give you everything.

The kiss slows, but your lips lingered against each other’s. You can still lick at the taste of rain droplets on her swollen lips; you wish to rub against them so hard that they taste of nothing but your own lips.

“Inside me, please.” You beg against her lips, sending fizzles of heat throughout her own cunt and making her clench around nothing.

“Good,” she mumbles against you as she eases two fingers into your moistened hole to elicit a soft, open gasp from your lips, “wanted to feel inside your cunt again. Missed it.”

Her calloused fingers work you, stretching your walls to ease any discomfort. You don’t know what to focus on with the amount of feelings coursing through your body - the subtle curve of her breasts are visibly if you flicker down, but you can’t seem to do so as you throw your head back onto her pillow and stare up at her ceiling to try and collect yourself; the way her eyes intensely watch over the way you gnaw at your bottom lip with pleasure, biting down when she curls her digits in the most delicious way possible; her mouth painting noticeable hickeys all over your neck, an action you’d usually scold but can only grasp her face for more; the soft ‘love you’s leaving her mouth between suckling. She can’t help but remind you after all of this time.

Her fingers batter your insides repeatedly, fingertips pressing into your spongy spot until you cry her name and your nails are piercing into her skin. Each slide into your walls and the slight retreats sends waves of pure pleasure through your body, your peak being the only thing either of you can focus on. Her eyes look over your face, watch the way your breath recedes as your orgasm bleeds into your stomach and into your head. Each ripple shooting through your walls causes your walls to clamp down onto her fingers as if to hold them inside of you forever. She doesn’t stop pumping into your hole until you physically cannot withstand it any longer.

“I love you, Ellie.”

Your words, so saccharine, make her forget about her plan to cuddle with you after making you feel good. She’s now hitching up your leg and pulling hers over your thigh, slotting her neglected and slick cunt between your legs, her folds grinding against yours and causing you to mewl at the sudden sensation against your clit.

“You love me?” Ellie asks, watching as you nod your head eagerly, “bet this pussy loves me just as much,” her words so filthy make you even wetter than you thought was possible in a single night.

Ellie whines as her clit receives little sparks of friction, the swollen bud savoring each moment of contact with your cunt.

“Feels so good, h-holy fuck..” You whine, your hips bucking up into hers in small shudders of movements. The pure sloppiness of your pussies rubbing together causes the room to be filled with the sounds of squelching and strained moans, Ellie’s more breathy and yours more pitched. Her hips quiver against yours as she gets closer and close to cumming, her movements more sloppy as your wetness turns into hers, and hers yours.

“Please, please, please I’m gonna cum, I’m-” Your own orgasm washes over your body, your back rising to accommodate for the sudden intense pleasure. Soon, Ellie’s cumming with you, not hesitating to swallow up your cries with her lips sealed over yours. You can feel each sloppy hump her cunt gives yours, can feel her whines only attempt to leave her throat. All of it has you drunk off of the feeling, possibly even harder than the last orgasm. Her tongue lazily fucks your mouth as she gives a final few sloppy judders to your clit before her body gives in to the utter exhaustion and she settles on top of you.

Her body, coated in sweat and her pussy, covered in both of your juices, are completely worn out. Ellie’s head finds sanction in the crook of your neck where her breath tickles your purple-splotched skin. You wrap your arms around her, squeezing her tightly. Her leg brushes up against yours and that’s when you noticeably flinch; right, the scraped knee from earlier.

Ellie quickly pulls herself off of you to catch sight of your left knee, slightly red with dried blood and clearly tender.

“I’ll take care of that, just lay here and rest, ‘kay” You nod eagerly, wanting to get rid of the burning sensation as quickly as possible. Ellie quickly pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, her eyes taking a final glance to admire your naked body sprawled out on her bed.. all she can seem to feel now is love for you. “Stay here and I’ll be back soon.”

Quickly, Ellie returns to you with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a large adhesive band-aid. Her face is rather irritated. You raise your eyebrows.

“What’s with the look?”

She sighs, muttering out, “Joel..that’s all.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. Fuck, you missed Joel. You missed watching movies with Ellie on his couch and the popcorn he’d microwave for the two of you to share. You can already tell by her face that he was pretty teasing about her scavenging through his cabinets for first-aid items looking like a hot mess. “I missed him,” you mumble quietly.

“Yeah… He missed you, too.” Ellie unscrews the lid on the alcohol and braces herself to do what she has to do.“This is gonna hurt, okay?” You nod, bracing yourself. Soon, the stinging of the alcohol hits your knee. It’s sudden and makes you wince. Seeing that look on your face makes Ellie want to stop and just hold you tightly, protect you from any harm. When the sting finally fades, you let out a soft sigh. She quickly peels the back of the band-aid off and with gentle but calloused fingers sticks the adhesive onto your scrape. She gives you a soft smile. “There. All good, now.”

You don’t hesitate to smile back, but another thought crosses your mind. “Hey, Ellie..?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is heavy with exhaustion and a noticeable, gentle affection.

“I meant it when I said I loved you.”

Ellie gives you a toothy grin, a familiar one. “And I meant it when I said it, too.”

“But..I still just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me that before, you know?”

Ellie exhales quietly and nods, understanding what you mean. “I was really nervous, okay? I’ve just lost people before,” she leans in closer to you, admiring your eyes which observe her as she speaks, brushing messy strands of hair behind your ear, “I know it’s stupid, but it really is true when you hear people say I can’t handle my feelings well. I get all weird about them and I’m like a social recluse when I have a crush for some reason. As much as I just wanted to be around you, I was scared.”

Your eyes soften slightly from her words, but curiosity takes over. “Scared of what? I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Els.”

“It’s more than just getting my heart broken by you.. I mean, I’m scared of losing you physically, too.” She admits quietly.

Ellie’s fears aren’t irrational. Everyday, people who have lovers, have friends and family are bitten or torn apart in the most gruesome ways possible. That’s always a reason to be cautious to care, but you can’t help but want to disagree with that sentiment.

“But Ellie, you can’t just be alone with the fear of losing the people you care about,” you argue softly, “if you live your life like that, you’ll never get to have all of anyone. Sometimes, you have to risk losing the person you love so that you can at least have them in every way possible, even if it’s temporary.”

“I know that, believe me. I’m so damn tired of keeping myself away from you and not fully giving you what you deserve.” Ellie leans down to plant a soft peck to your nose, making you giggle, “you deserve to be loved wholeheartedly and not like how I was doing before..so..” she sighs. “If I asked you to be mine, my girlfriend…would you say yes?”

Your eyes widen and your heart beats faster. “You really mean that?”

Ellie nods, her cheeks red from earlier activities somehow burning brighter. This time, it’s more from embarrassment and something more childish than previously.

You giggle and quickly lean up to hug her tightly. “Yes. Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” Ellie pulls you further in, squeezing you tightly. “You gotta promise to not hold back on me, though.”

She nods, feeling emotions pull at her chest at the feeling of your embrace, of finally having you in her arms without having to think about leaving you in the morning. “I promise.”

The rhythmatic, quiet sound of Ellie’s clock lulls you to sleep as she holds you in her arms.

Tick, tick, tick.

This time, Ellie won’t hold back from you when you wake up.

Taglist: @firefly-ace @kaykeryyy

#ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie smut #ellie x fem reader #dividers by fairytopea

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flawseer · 5 months ago

Note

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.

#wings of fire #dragon #wof #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #flawseer reply #flawseer talk #wof starflight #wof nightwing #romance

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earlysunshines · 5 months ago

Text

drive me crazy!

pham hanni x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: hanni can bear physical touch—unless it’s from you and is oblivious to why that is, oblivious to only her.

warnings: sixth!member reader ; cute and FLUFFY YAAYYY!!!! ; my girl... pls why r u stupid my cute little idiot ; a lil angsty ; idk anything else i didn't mention ; oh um... rly jdashfasd iffy on how the pacing is plus the pining and like everything... was supposed to be short and cute but then i made it more LOL ; not proofread (i don't like reading if u couldn't tell)

a/n: short, silly, cute, lovely, adorable (so hanni) anyways HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! to gf!! also now all the members i write for have a sixth!member reader fic LOL

hanni has always been fine with physical touch, she kind of has to be considering she’s friends with danielle and hyein.

she lets them drag her by the arm, cling onto her, and whatever else that they desire because that’s just how they are. hanni is fine with this, she’s fine with anything the members do.

but you? you’re a whole different story and she has no clue why.

the slightest amount of physical contact from you sends her spiralling, she can’t think right the moment your shoulders graze or fingers brush against one another. her palms go sweaty, her breath gets short, and her face warms up; hanni tends to be more distant when it comes to you.

maybe it's the way you do it so effortlessly, plus that little smirk on your face that renders her dumber than she already is. maybe it's because your hands are always so warm that it makes her flinch away, or maybe it's something more. but this could mean nothing, right?

exhibit a:

hanni wasn’t always wary of your touch. there was a point in time where she’d give you hugs without thinking, let you lean on her shoulder or lean on yours, even intertwine fingers during livestreams or just spontaneously because why not?

one night, while in spain during your time recording for the new ep, you two had been put into a room together. there had been two beds, but you wanted to hangout near hanni while you doom scrolled and texted your friends. hanni let you linger there, neither of you had made any physical contact during the time until you mindlessly put your leg over hers, linking it.

while you went on your phone hanni would glance at you, she didn’t know why. you caught her in the midst of it, interrupted her while she traced the curve of your lips and she could only blush.

“is there something on my face?”

hanni still stares, not answering for a bit until a few seconds pass.

“no, i just zoned out.”

“okay...?” you ignore it with a chuckle, returning to your phone.

after hours of scrolling, you yawn, your phone falling somewhere on the bed as the hours of recording and singing throughout that day had caught up to you.

you fell asleep first, your breathing soft and steady, while hanni lay beside you, wide awake. she didn’t mind though. you hadn't moved to your bed, and hanni isn't strong enough to carry you (she's smaller and shorter, that's quite given; you tease her endlessly for it). she couldn’t bring herself to wake you up, watching the peaceful way you drifted off. she felt warm next to you, like it was the most natural thing in the world to be here, sharing this moment. eventually, she let her eyes close too, not bothering to move. she liked the closeness.

the two of you fell asleep beside each other on your backs, your hands barely touching and a leg tangled with the other.

when you woke up, the first thing you noticed was how you were wrapped around her. your arm was draped over her waist, your body molded against hers, and for a moment, you were too comfortable to move. it was similar to the feeling of cuddling your pillow at night in the dorms, but instead with hanni. you really liked the feeling of her in your arms, weirdly enough.

hanni was awake now too, but she hadn’t shifted yet. instead, she lay still, her heart beating faster as she became hyperaware of the closeness between you two. she could feel your warmth, every breath, every slight movement, and it made her feel bubbly and panicked.

hanni wasn’t used to feeling this way, like her entire body was on edge, but in the best way possible. being this close to you—it made everything feel different, more intense. physical touch isn't new to her in the slightest, considering all the members are a little touchy (danielle is a whole different story), but she's never felt this way with you or any of the other members. her thoughts were running a mile a minute, and she couldn’t help but steal glances at your face, admiring how soft and peaceful you looked in the morning light. her nerves kicked in when she realized how close your lips were to her shoulder, how intimate this all suddenly felt.

fuck, hanni thought. everything felt so perfect, but this only made her more wary.

and then you stirred, slowly waking up again, your eyes fluttering open. when your gaze landed on her, your lips curved into the softest, sleepiest smile, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“morning han,” you mumble, your voice raspy with sleep as you reach up to gently caress her face. your thumb brushes her cheek, and she can’t help but lean into your touch, her skin tingling from the simple gesture.

hanni can't breathe. her lips part, and then she closes her mouth to tense her jaw.

“you’re so pretty in the morning,” you say, still groggy but sincere. "how are you real?"

hanni’s face flushes immediately, her heart doing flips as she stares at you, wide-eyed. “you can’t just say things like that,” she murmurs, trying to suppress a smile, feeling shy all of a sudden.

you chuckle softly, your hand still resting on her cheek, not wanting to pull away. “why not? it’s true.”

hanni wants to pull away, it's too much. she feels like her heart might just escape from her chest.

the way you look at her, sleepy but affectionate, makes her feel weirdly nervous in the best way. the closeness, the intimacy—it’s overwhelming, but in a way that makes her want to stay right there, wrapped up in you.

but she can't, the pit in her stomach doesn't let her.

she shifts away, turning and groaning playfully as she stretches. she checks her phone, the time saving her from this situation.

"shit, we should be getting up soon."

you frown, hand resting on hanni's waist still until she sits up and rubs her eyes. "do we have to?" you ask, wanting to stay in bed a little longer with her in your arms. something about being so close to her and her specifically makes you really content.

"we have to get to the location, eat, get ready, recording—you know, all that."

you pout, rolling away from her and finding a pillow to replace her warmth.

"five more minutes?"

"fine..." hanni huffs, looking at you fondly. she can't tell if she's fond of the weird rush you give her either.

—

exhibit b

hanni is in the middle of vlogging, setting up her phone on the counter as she stirs something on the stove. her voice is light, a little bubbly, as she explains what she’s making for dinner, though she’s focused on keeping everything smooth for the video.

the phone drops and she groans, biting her lip subtly as she sets it back up, returning to her little commentary.

“so, i’m just letting this simmer for a bit,” she says, leaning closer to the pot, “and then i’ll—”

before she can finish, you come up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. she gasps, then freezes for a second, her whole body stiffening as your head gently rests on her shoulder. she can feel your warmth instantly, she can smell your signature sweet perfume, and the sudden contact makes her heart jump into her throat.

your arms pull her close, and her cheeks heat up as if the stove’s flames were warming her directly. she knows she’s still on camera, but for a moment, she can barely remember what she was even talking about.

“hey,” you mumble softly, voice low and a bit tired, but sweet. “what are you making?”

hanni’s grip on the spoon tightens, and she laughs awkwardly, trying to play it cool. “uh, j-just… dinner,” she manages, her voice a little higher than usual. her brief stutter earns a punch to herself (mentally of course) and she cringes internally. her brain is short-circuiting from the feel of you pressed against her back, your head so close to hers. she swears her face is probably bright red by now. there is no way this is getting cut out, especially not with the popularity you two have as a duo.

you lift your head from her shoulder, standing beside her but still lingering close, your arm brushing against hers. hanni tries her best to focus on the camera, forcing herself to talk about the food again, but it’s so difficult with you right there, looking effortlessly adorable after coming back from your shoot. you’re in casual clothes, but there’s something about the way you look—tired but still glowing—that makes her even more flustered.

“you look cute,” she hears you say softly, just loud enough for her to hear but not for the camera, and it completely throws her off. you look her dead in the eye, your gaze dropping to her lips and then back up as you smile. she almost drops the spoon, quickly looking at the camera and then back at the food, trying to regain her composure. her mind is a mess. how is she supposed to vlog when you’re like this?

“uh—thank you,” hanni stammers, her cheeks fully tinted pink now. she tries to laugh it off, stirring the pot with more focus than necessary, but the tension in her shoulders gives her away.

you chuckle softly, leaning a little closer to check what she’s making. “need help?”

hanni shakes her head quickly, eyes wide as she glances at you, then back at the camera. “n-no! i’m good, totally fine,” she insists, though her flustered state says otherwise.

“okay,” you hum, stepping back but still watching her with a teasing grin. "but if you need me to cut anymore veggies or meat i can! just ring me up! bunnies, did you know that i'm actually a wonnnnnnderful cook? i used to cook a lot with my parents-"

hanni lets you ramble, she loves hearing you ramble. she can't help but smile everytime you do, your voice is like music to her ears, it’s a symphony.

when you're finished with your ramble, you bring the attention back to hanni. "now back to our show!"

hanni lets out a quiet breath of relief, trying her best to wrap up the vlog—or at least this segment. “so, yeah! um, this just needs a few more minutes, and then dinner will be ready.” her voice wavers slightly, but she manages to end the video, turning off the camera with shaky hands.

as soon as the camera’s off, she turns to you, her face still red, and you can’t help but laugh softly at how flustered she is.

“you’re impossible,” she mutters, playfully swatting at you, but there’s a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“what?” you ask, oblivious to everything going on.

"i--" hanni pauses, shaking her head before flicking you in the forehead. "go change, dinner will be ready by then."

…

@/dailyyn on twitter:

“hanni and y/n crumbs! look how good y/n looks after the shoot… imagine being her gf and she greets you like this… id kill to be hanni”

the clip shows you surprising hanni, making her blush with your subtle antics and sharing the cute moment on camera. fans go a little insane partially because of your look, and also the chemistry between the two of you.

↪️@/tokkijeans: is it just me or are they really close? like.. suspiciously close

↪️@/ynslover: replying to @/tokkijeansi wouldn’t be surprised if they. were dating… i’ve never seen hanni so shy

↪️@/hanynenjoyer: this video is so cute! they’re my everything…

—

exhibit c

the studio was lively, filled with activity as the photobook shoot progressed. bright lights flashed intermittently, casting soft shadows over the set as you and hanni stood close, posing for the camera.

you two were in arguably casual clothing, but obviously topped off with some extra details because it was for a photoshoot. you couldn't stop staring at hanni, stealing glances whenever you could. she looked gorgeous, that wasn't debatable. her hair was styled in a way that made it a little wavy and a small clip pinned the hair that would frame her face back.

in return, hanni was doing her absolute best to keep her cool. the light makeup made your features stand out subtly, especially your lips (which hanni couldn't stop stealing a peek at), making you look stunning. you'd probably go trending on twitter later, hanni knows you like to upload selcas after things like this, and each one never fails to gain lots of attention.

(not just from the fans, but from your fellow member too.)

the photographers suggested subtle intimacy—small, delicate touches, heads leaning together, eyes locking in moments that felt almost too real. they had convinced you two it would fit the concept: domestic, casual, and comfortable. for you, it was easy to comply, maybe even natural, to slip into those roles. especially when it was hanni by your side.

your hand brushed against hers as you adjusted your stance, smiling to yourself when you caught her glancing at you. hanni was trying to keep her cool, you could tell—but why? her usual ease seemed strained, her body a little tense despite the casual poses. but you? you were just happy to be this close to her, to feel her warmth as you both leaned into the moment.

the photographer directed a few more shots, asking you to sit beside hanni and lean your head against her shoulder. you did so with ease, resting your cheek carefully on her shoulder. you could feel her freeze slightly under your touch, her body rigid against yours. you bring your hand over and place it over hers, rubbing your fingers gently against her skin to coax her back into relaxation—miraculously, it works.

you didn’t think too much the whole thing; after all, these shoots always required some closeness. but with hanni, it was different. your heart felt lighter being near her, warmer in a way that you didn’t feel with anyone else. you smiled softly as you shifted into the next pose, letting her lean against you this time, her back pressing against your shoulders.

she smelled sweet, like the faintest hint of citrus, and you found yourself wanting to linger there a little longer.

"you smell good." you mumble softly as the photographer readjusts his settings. "like really good."

hanni doesnt answer, she opts for pinching you playfully instead, earning a chuckle.

"what? you look really good too."

"shut up." hanni says, mostly for the sake of her sanity. "you're so... ugh."

the moment ended when the photographer had caught both of your attention again. you two stop bickering (if you could even call it that) and focus once more.

the camera flashes one final time, and the photographer calls it a wrap. as the crew began to clear the set, hanni quickly stepped away, her cool facade returning as she busied herself with adjusting her outfit, avoiding your gaze. your heart sank a little at her sudden distance.

you stood there for a second, watching her, a growing pit of uncertainty forming in your stomach. it wasn’t the first time this had happened. hanni had a way of pulling back whenever you got too close, a way of putting space between you that made you second-guess everything. you were touchy with everyone—that was just who you were—but with hanni, it was different. she made you happier, made your heart feel full in a way that was hard to describe. she was so adorable, so easy to be around, and sometimes you couldn’t help but think of being close to her all the time.

but now, watching her act distant again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit upset. was it something you did? were you pushing too far? but she's completely fine with dani dragging her around, haerin randomly leaning against her, and even she initiates the phsyical contact with minji. not to mention hyein, who's always clinging onto everyone — but that's hyein, she's like a younger sister to you all.

your thoughts spiraled as you bit your lip, trying to shake off the gnawing feeling.

hanni finally glanced your way, catching your gaze for a split second before quickly looking away, her face unreadable. you frowned, taking a step toward her. “hanni… are we good?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the hint of worry bled through.

she hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “yeah, of course. why wouldn’t we be?”

“i don’t know. it just—” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “sometimes, it feels like you’re… distant. like you’re pulling away. was the shoot too much? was i too much?"

hanni blinked, her expression softening just slightly, but she still didn’t meet your eyes. “no, no— and i’m not pulling away,” she said quietly, but the uncertainty in her voice didn’t do much to reassure you.

you narrow your eyes at her, trying to believe her. you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “okay. if you say so.”

the air between you felt thick, tense, and it was hard to shake the disappointment that clung to you as you watched her pack up her things. you wanted to be close to her, wanted to feel that warmth again, but right now, it felt like she was slipping through your fingers.

this left you spiraling even more, trying to figure out what went wrong. hanni walks over to watch the others, letting danielle cling onto her and not visibly getting nervous or anything like that. was it you? it had to be.

—

soobin was like the big brother you never had, and you were forever grateful for that accidental meeting while you were a trainee and he was a rookie—when he’d spilled his coffee all over you. it had been embarrassing then, but now? it was the reason you had biweekly catch-up sessions—usually over facetime, since no one in the industry liked to see a girl group member breathing the same air as a boy group member.

but today was different. today, the two of you were in one of the company lounge areas, sharing snacks from the convenience store and sipping on the flavored milk soobin had brought. he watched you quietly, eyes filled with concern as you sank into your chair, picking at your fruit gummies without much enthusiasm.

“have things been rough? are they pushing you too hard?” he asked, his voice soft.

you shook your head, your lips pressing into a thin line. “i think my coworker hates me.”

“as in… a member?”

“yeah.” you sighed, popping an orange gummy into your mouth and chewing it slowly.

“may i pry?” soobin asks, stealing a gummy from your pack.

you nodded. “yeah, go ahead.”

“who is it?” he questions, chewing his stolen gummy.

“hanni.”

soobin froze mid-chew, his brows furrowing. “wait, hanni? but— the internet’s always talking about you two. i mean, i know you can’t trust everything online, but i’ve seen it too. you guys seem close.”

“yeah, well, i think she hates it. all the physical stuff, everything i do…” you trailed off, sinking deeper into your seat. “am i terrible?”

the hood of your sweatshirt slipped over your head as you slouched, messing up your hair. soobin couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, tilting his head as he looked at you. “you’re not terrible, y/n,” he assured you, his voice steady. “maybe she’s just—”

“i think i’m in love with her.” you blurted out, groaning as you covered your face with your hands. “i’m in love with her, i think. no, fuck that, i know.”

soobin stared at you, wide-eyed. “you what?”

“i’m in love with her,” you mumbled again, sinking even lower into your seat, hands covering your face. “god, i realized it last night while i was sulking in bed at midnight. and now, everything makes sense. i want to be close to her all the time because i want something more. and i feel like a creep because—am i weird? am i… am i a predator for being so touchy with her? what if she hates me for it?”

he watched as your expression shifted from miserable to horrified, your body practically sliding off the chair now. his deep voice cut through your spiral, calm and steady as ever. “you’re not a predator. trust me. the fact that you’re aware of how your actions might affect her shows that. you’re self-aware, and you care enough to try and make things better.”

“but… this could ruin everything.” your voice was small, defeated.

“it won’t,” soobin says firmly. “i know you.”

“do you know her?”

he shrugged, smiling softly. “i don’t need to know hanni as well as i know you. you always get things done, y/n. you always work it out. remember when we had those dating rumors? you handled that pretty well.”

you groaned at the memory, but it did lift your spirits just a bit. the whole two-week ‘scandal’ had been absurd. someone had noticed that you and soobin both had the same roblox sticker on your phone cases in your selcas, posted just two days apart. it blew up online, spiraling into dating rumors that, frankly, neither of you could believe.

the whole thing was based on a sticker. a roblox sticker. beomgyu had given soobin the sticker, and soobin, thinking it was dumb and funny, gave you one too. somehow, the internet made it a conspiracy.

you had to lie, saying you barely knew soobin, and that you found the sticker on the floor of the hybe building, thinking it was funny. it was the only way to get the fans to calm down. soobin had to pretend he barely knew you as well, but the two of you had giggled over facetime because of it—which was great for your mental state while you noticed the forced hate towards you.

“ugh, that was so weird,” you mutter. “if only they knew we’re—”

“completely off the radar,” soobin finished for you, chuckling. “like some future lavender marriage if the media doesn’t get off our asses.”

you snorted at that, “gross,” but your smile quickly faded as the weight of your current situation settled in again.

he shrugged, his smile gentle. “i don’t need to know hanni as well as i know you to be sure of this. you’re the kind of person who works through things. you always have, and you always will. you’ve told me how close you two were during your trainee days—there’s no way she’d want to throw that all away. besides, isn’t it better to have her in your life, even if you’re in love with her, than to lose her altogether?”

for someone so stupid, he’s equally as wise.

you bite your lip, a sense of helplessness settling in your chest. “i don’t know,” you say, voice soft. “sometimes, i just want to pull away, distance myself so i don’t screw it all up, but… but then i’m around her, and she’s just so... so hanni. she’s adorable and funny and makes me feel so warm inside. and then i'm close to her, and it’s like this weird feeling that makes me want more, but… i don’t want to scare her off. i don’t want her to think i’m weird.”

you could feel tears of frustration prickling at the corners of your eyes, your hands trembling as you spoke. admitting your feelings out loud made them feel so much more real, and that terrified you.

soobin leaned over, placing a hand on your shoulder, his deep voice a steadying force amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

“you’re not weird,” he repeated gently. “you just care. and that’s a good thing. but you need to trust yourself, y/n. you’re good at this—at reading people, at figuring things out. if hanni ever felt concerningly uncomfortable, you’d notice. just... be careful. take your time. you’ll figure it out. i know you will.”

you stared down at your hands, twisting the edge of your hoodie in your fingers. the weight of your confession hung heavily between you and soobin, but there was also a strange sense of relief in having said it out loud—like you had finally let go of something you’d been holding onto for far too long.

“yeah,” you said softly, nodding. “i guess so.”

—

two days after spilling your alleged unrequited love to your wonderful, amazing, stupid, and very gay bestfriend you had gotten dating rumors with—you're sent to a prada show.

being one of the faces for the brand meant being sent to fashion weeks, shows, and various other schedules that had you showing off the designer brand. and each time this happened, you went viral, because prada never fails to impress, especially when it's you.

you’re set for a photoshoot, this time for the cover of vogue. the weight of it feels significant, but not overwhelming. you’re wearing a prada crop top that shows off your toned abdomen, the result of months of dedication and hard work. the black blazer and slacks, perfectly tailored, give you an oversized yet effortlessly chic look, striking that balance between casual and captivating. everything fits like a glove, intentional but laid-back.

you admire yourself in the mirror, your eyes tracing the sharp angles of your makeup. the subtle eyeshadow that makes a statement, the clean lines, the way it accentuates your features—you can’t help but praise the makeup artist, murmuring compliments as you run a hand through your messy, artfully tousled hair. it’s wild but controlled, you snap a picture quickly for your fans.

when it’s time, you step onto the set, the bold red backdrop making you stand out even more. the lights hit just right, casting shadows that emphasize your figure, and for a moment, as you strike the first pose, you think to yourself: wow, this is for the girls.

after shooting is done, you monitor your pictures and are caught off guard from how great they look. you weren't that confident about oyu rvisuals back then, singing and dancing you could od well, but visuals got to your head. you've learned to love yourself more the more your members and the internet praised you, but mostly because hanni used to compliment you a lot even with your bare face, you wish she still did it.

"woah," you say, snapping pictures of the monitoring screen to post to bubble later.

...

hanni is sitting at the dinner table, a snack in hand as she absentmindedly scrolls through her phone. the dorm is quiet, most of the members tucked away in their rooms, and hyein isn’t around tonight since she's with her family. it’s been a long day, but she finds some comfort in texting her sister, filling the silence with their usual banter. she's distracted enough that she almost doesn’t notice the notification from the official newjeans account.

her thumb hesitates before clicking on it, already assuming it’s something from your vogue shoot. everyone knew you were out for the day, busy with your big shoot, so it seemed natural. but what she didn’t expect was how stunning you’d look.

the first picture stops her cold. you’re lounging on some plush couch, leaning back with that casual confidence she’s only ever seen in person—half smirk, half knowing gaze. hanni’s heart stumbles in her chest. you look beyond good. you’re breathtaking. the makeup, perfectly done but not too much, the messy hair that somehow looks effortlessly styled—it’s too much. she gulps without even realizing, eyes locked on the screen as she stares for longer than she cares to admit.

thirty seconds go by, maybe more, before she hesitantly swipes to the next slide. each new picture draws her in further, and it’s not getting any easier to look away. you’re a vision in every shot, and her chest tightens with each one. she knows she’s been trying to distance herself, trying to get her feelings under control, but how is she supposed to do that when just seeing you on her screen makes her lose her cool like this?

“you’ve been staring at that for a while, haven’t you?” danielle’s voice cuts through her thoughts, light and teasing. hanni jumps in her seat, turning to see danielle settling in next to her. she leans over, her eyes landing on the picture of you still displayed on hanni’s phone. “she looks pretty.” danielle adds.

“um, yeah,” hanni mutters, hurriedly swiping out of instagram, but the heat in her cheeks is unmistakable. she sets her phone down as if that’ll somehow help her case.

danielle smirks, raising an eyebrow as she gives her a sidelong glance. “you seemed to like that post, huh?”

“i was just… zoning out,” hanni tries, but the uncertainty in her voice betrays her. it sounds unconvincing even to her own ears.

“seemed like more than that to me.” danielle’s voice is light, playful, but there’s a glint in her eye that says she knows exactly what’s going on.

hanni lets out a forced laugh, trying to brush it off. “what are you even saying?”

“i’m saying,” danielle starts, leaning in just a bit closer, “that it’s quite odd of you to stare so hard at her. not just at her on the cover of vogue, but in general.”

hanni swallows hard, trying to play it cool, but the flutter in her chest tells her otherwise. danielle’s right, and the worst part is, she can’t even deny it.

danielle’s eyes linger on hanni, clearly not buying her act. hanni feels the pressure building, but she stays silent, forcing a simple shrug as if nothing’s wrong. she knows danielle is waiting for her to crack, but she’s not ready to let everything spill. not yet.

"so…" danielle starts, her voice teasing but gentle, “you’re really gonna act like that wasn’t you staring at y/n’s photos for, what, five minutes?”

hanni scoffs, though it sounds forced. “it wasn’t five minutes, and i wasn’t staring like that.”

danielle crosses her arms, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “right. sure you weren’t. you only jumped like i caught you doing something illegal.”

“i was just… scrolling,” hanni mutters, turning her attention back to her phone, trying to seem unbothered. she swipes through random apps, but danielle’s quiet presence next to her makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

“scrolling, huh? that’s what you’re going with?”

“yep.”

“uh-huh. so if i ask again why you were so focused on y/n, you’re gonna say… what?”

hanni huffs, leaning back in her chair. “danielle, it’s not a big deal. i just zoned out, okay? she’s my friend. we work together. seeing her on my feed isn’t weird.” her tone is defensive, too defensive for her liking.

danielle raises her eyebrow, unrelenting. “zoning out on the same picture for thirty seconds? then the next one? and the one after that? you sure it’s nothing?”

hanni’s lips press into a thin line, irritation bubbling up, though it’s more with herself than with danielle. why is this so hard? why can’t she just brush it off? but danielle is looking at her with that piercing, curious gaze, and hanni knows she’s not letting it go. plus, it's danielle.

“you’re imagining things,” hanni tries, though her voice wavers.

“am i?” danielle leans forward slightly, her tone is soft but persistent. “because i know what i saw. and this isn’t the first time you’ve been weird about y/n.”

hanni blinks, her guard starting to slip. “what do you mean ‘weird’?”

“you’ve been acting strange around her for a while now,” danielle points out. “you avoid her, then get all flustered when she’s near. and now you’re sitting here, staring at her photos like you’re in a trance. come on, hanni. something’s up.”

hanni clenches her jaw, trying to hold onto the last bits of defense she has. “it’s… it’s not like that. she’s just—”

“just what?” danielle cuts in, her voice more patient than accusing. “you can tell me. whatever it is, i’m not judging.”

hanni sighs, her resolve beginning to crumble under danielle’s persistent questions. she opens her mouth, but no words come out, her mind racing to come up with some kind of excuse, something that’ll make danielle drop it. but there’s nothing, and hanni knows it.

danielle’s watching her closely now, not pushing too hard but clearly waiting for hanni to finally let it out. “hanni, it’s okay. i’m not gonna force you to talk if you don’t want to. but i’m just saying, i’m here if you need to get something off your chest.”

hanni bites her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. she can feel the words bubbling up, the truth she’s been trying so hard to suppress. but how can she admit it? how can she explain that being near you makes her feel like her heart is about to burst, that every touch and smile from you sends her into a spiral? she's beyond fucked.

“danielle, it’s not… it’s not what you think,” hanni starts, but even she knows how weak it sounds. she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting away from danielle’s.

danielle lets out a soft sigh, her tone turning gentle. “hanni, it’s okay to feel something for her. you don’t have to keep it all inside.”

“i don’t—” hanni stops herself, the words catching in her throat. “it’s not… ugh, i don’t even know how to explain it.”

danielle stays quiet, waiting for her to continue.

hanni rubs her face, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “i don’t… i don’t know what to do. she’s just—she’s everywhere, danielle. i can’t even breathe when she’s around. she’s always so close, always so touchy, and it’s driving me insane. i can’t handle it.”

danielle’s expression softens further, nodding slowly as if to encourage her to keep going.

“and it’s not like i don’t like her or anything,” hanni continues, her voice wavering. “that’s the problem. i like her too much. and i don’t know how to deal with it, so i’ve been pushing her away. and now she probably thinks i’m a complete jerk, but… i don’t know what else to do.”

danielle raises her eyebrows. “you’ve been pushing her away because you like her?”

hanni groans, slumping down in her seat. “yeah. because every time she's close to me i feel like i’m gonna explode. she’s so—ugh. she makes me feel things, and i hate it. i don’t know how to be around her without freaking out.”

“so you’re in love with her,” danielle says simply, no judgment in her tone.

hanni freezes, her heart skipping a beat at the words. in love. she opens her mouth to protest, but the truth is already sitting heavy in her chest. she exhales shakily, realizing there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“yeah,” hanni mutters, almost too quietly for danielle to hear. “i think i am.”

danielle leans back, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “well, that’s a start. at least now you’ve admitted it.”

hanni buries her face in her hands again, feeling the weight of the confession settle over her. “what am i supposed to do? i’ve been acting so weird around her, and she probably thinks i hate her now.”

danielle shakes her head. “hanni, i don’t think y/n could ever think that. if anything, she’s probably wondering why you’re avoiding her. you should talk to her.”

hanni groans again. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way? what if i ruin everything?”

“you won’t,” danielle says confidently. “you’re both close. i don’t think y/n would throw away your friendship over this. but you’ll never know how she feels if you don’t talk to her.”

hanni knows danielle is right, but the thought of confronting her feelings—and you—feels terrifying.

"and if it makes you feel better..." danielle continues, "i don't think the chances of her not returning the feelings are high. she cares for you a lot and she's not nearly as touchy or close with any of us—just you han."

"oh."

hanni bites her lip, fighting every worry in her head. as she does so, the root of her crisis returns home.

both her and danielle look up to see you sighing as you close the door, waving at them tiredly as you walk towards where your room is. danielle tilts her head, looking at you closely: your shoulders are sinking a bit, your hair is messier than before, and you look exhausted.

"how was everything?" danielle asks you, ignoring hanni beside her who's trying to recover from her feelings taking over. "your makeup is still intact."

"i fear." you say tiredly, rubbing your eyes. "it was cool, but they made me do a lot of promo and interviews. it's over now at least."

you glance at hanni, who's failing to meet your gaze.

"well," you start, "i'm going to go wash up and pass out. night guys."

"night!" danielle beams, smiling.

you look at hanni, waiting for a response. she finally looks you in the eye, then seemingly scans your face and hesitating before she also says, "night y/n, rest up okay?"

"yeah, of course han." you smile softly, waving to them once more before disappearing into the hallway.

danielle looks at hanni immediately after you're out of their sight, and speaks as soon as she hears the door close.

hanni just groans, hiding her face in her hands as she mumbles, "she looks too good i can't possibly--"

"don't be like that." danielle scolds, "it'll be fine."

hanni can barely look at you these days, the fact that she has to face you while knowing everything she feels is real and inescapable—hanni might be on her deathbed soon.

—

the room is warm, sunlight streaming through the thin curtains and casting a soft glow over the space. your blanket is tangled around you, your loose pajamas wrinkled as you lay sprawled across your bed. hanni stands quietly in the doorway, staring at your still form with a soft sigh. she knows she should wake you up; you've overslept, and the rest of the members have already started their day. but as she stands there, watching the rise and fall of your chest, something holds her back.

your hair’s a mess, sticking up in all directions, and you’re wearing that loose t-shirt she gave you months ago. it’s oversized, slipping off your shoulder, and the sight of you like this—so comfortable, so unguarded—makes her heart skip a beat. there’s something about how peaceful you look that makes hanni want to crawl into bed with you, to be close, but she knows she shouldn’t.

she swallows, shaking off the thought, reminding herself why she’s here. she’s supposed to wake you up, not… whatever it is her mind keeps drifting to. taking a deep breath, she walks closer and kneels by the edge of your bed.

"y/n," she whispers, poking your cheek gently. "you’re gonna be late if you don’t get up."

you don’t move, still lost in whatever dream you’re having and turning away. hanni shifts awkwardly, not sure what to do. she leans down and lightly pokes your cheek again. "come on, y/n, wake up."

nothing.

with a tiny huff, she pokes you again, this time a bit harder. "seriously, you can’t just sleep all day. you’re going to be late!" she whisper-yells.

you still don’t stir, and hanni finds herself smiling despite her frustration. you look so... soft like this. relaxed. carefree. she’s really tempted to lay down beside you now, more than before. she wants to pull the blanket over herself and close her eyes, pretending for just a moment that things are the way they used to be—before all this weirdness between you two. she could pretend there’s nothing on the schedule, she quite literally has free will, she could do it and nothing would stop her.

but she can’t. she knows she can’t.

instead, she pokes your cheek one more time. "y/n," she whispers, leaning closer. "please get up."

without warning, you move, but instead of waking up, you grab hanni’s wrist and pull her closer, dragging her halfway onto your bed. she yelps, startled, but you don’t seem to notice. you just snuggle into her, wrapping your arm around her waist as if she’s your pillow, your face pressed against her stomach.

hanni freezes, her heart pounding in her chest. you’re still half-asleep, clearly not realizing what you’re doing, but that doesn’t stop the warmth from rushing to her cheeks. she feels like she’s on fire, caught between wanting to escape and wanting to stay right where she is. your warmth, your scent, the way your body feels against hers—it’s overwhelming.

"hanni?" you mumble groggily, eyes still closed. "what are you… doing?"

"uh," hanni stammers, trying to keep her voice steady. "you need to get up. you’re gonna be late."

but you don’t move, just hum in response, your hand moves to loosely hold hers. hanni swallows hard, her whole body tense as she tries to ignore the warmth of your skin, the soft feel of your fingers intertwined with hers.

this is too much.

"hanni?" you mumble again, voice thick with sleep, your hand instinctively pulling her a little closer. "just five more minutes."

hanni can barely breathe, her mind scrambling for some kind of excuse to get out of this without completely losing it. she manages to slip out of your hold, her heart pounding as she sits on the edge of your bed, trying to compose herself. "you need to get up now, y/n," she says, a little firmer this time.

you finally stir, blinking up at her with bleary eyes, confused by the sight of hanni sitting at the edge of your bed. "hanni? what are you… what are you doing here?"

she shifts awkwardly, trying to keep her tone casual. "you were sleeping in, and i came to wake you up. the others are already in the dining room."

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as you look at her. something feels off between you two, a tension that wasn’t there before, something bigger than before. you can feel it too, even in your groggy state. the silence hangs heavy in the air, the unspoken distance between you making everything feel… strange.

"hey," you mumble, running a hand through your messy hair, "we, uh… haven’t really talked much lately, have we?"

hanni glances down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "yeah," she mutters, her voice soft. "i guess we’ve both been kind of... distant."

you nod, still trying to shake off the sleep. "i don’t know why it’s been like that," you say, your voice quiet. "feels like something changed, and i don’t really get it. i’ve been wanting to talk to you, to be honest.”

hanni’s heart tightens at your words. she knows why she’s been distant—because you make her nervous, because she’s terrified of her feelings, because she doesn’t know how to act around you anymore. but she can’t say all that. not now. not like this.

"i’m sorry," hanni finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. "i didn’t mean to pull away. i just… i didn’t know how to handle things."

you look at her, a faint frown creasing your forehead. "handle what?"

hanni shrugs, avoiding your gaze. "just… everything. i guess i got overwhelmed, and instead of talking to you about it, i kind of shut you out. i didn’t mean to."

you’re quiet for a moment, processing her words. it doesn’t really make sense, but it’s something. "i thought you were mad at me," you admit softly. "i didn’t know what i did wrong."

hanni’s heart aches at that. "you didn’t do anything wrong," she says quickly, shaking her head. "it’s not you, y/n. it’s me. i’m sorry for making you feel that way."

the two of you sit in silence for a while, the tension slowly easing as you both realize how much you’ve missed each other. there’s still so much left unsaid, so many things neither of you are ready to admit yet, but this… this is a start.

"i missed you," you finally say, your voice quiet but sincere.

hanni looks up, her heart swelling at your words. "i missed you too."

the weight of the past few weeks lingers in the air, but for the first time in a while, it feels like things might be okay again. even if neither of you is ready to fully address the feelings you’re both clearly harboring, at least you’re talking. at least you’re trying.

and for now, that’s enough.

—

hanni and danielle sit side by side on the couch in the waiting room, both scrolling through their phones. it’s a quiet break, the kind they savor between the chaotic schedules, but their attention keeps drifting to where you’re seated, getting your makeup done. you’re chatting softly on the phone, smiling as you talk to your parents, completely at ease in the chair.

hanni, however, can’t seem to focus on anything else. her eyes flicker over to you every few seconds, as if drawn by some invisible force. she watches how you laugh quietly, the way the stylist’s brush glides over your face, how you seem so naturally pretty even in this hectic setting. her mind is still spinning from your recent talk, even though it was brief. it lingers with all the things unsaid, all the questions still hanging in the air.

next to her, danielle finally breaks the silence.

"so," she starts, her voice casual but curious, "did you and y/n talk?"

hanni’s fingers freeze mid-scroll, and she glances at danielle, unsure of how to answer. after a moment, she sighs. "yeah, we talked… sort of."

danielle raises an eyebrow. "sort of?"

hanni shifts in her seat, picking at the edge of her sleeve. "we addressed the distance. like, we apologized for being weird with each other, but… i don’t really know where to go from there. it’s like, we acknowledged it, but it didn’t fix everything. i still feel…" she trails off, struggling to find the right words. "i don’t know. confused, maybe?"

danielle watches her closely, nodding slowly in understanding. "well, that’s a start, right? at least you talked about it."

"yeah," hanni mutters, but there’s a tinge of uncertainty in her voice. she glances back at you, still on the phone, still pulling her attention without even trying. "but it doesn’t really feel settled, you know? like, we just put a band-aid over it."

danielle sighs softly, leaning back against the couch. "stuff like that is complicated," she says, almost as if she’s speaking from experience. then, after a moment of silence, she turns to hanni with a teasing smile. "by the way, you’ve been staring at y/n this entire time. i can’t believe she doesn’t know that you… you know,"

hanni’s face flushes, and she quickly looks away, crossing her arms defensively. "i was not."

danielle laughs, clearly not buying it. "uh-huh, sure. i��ve been watching you. every time she moves, your eyes follow. it’s like you’re in a drama, and she’s the lead you can’t get over."

"i’m just… i’m just making sure she’s okay," hanni tries to defend herself, though the heat rising in her cheeks betrays her. "she’s on the phone with her parents. what if something’s wrong?"

"oh, please," danielle says, her smirk growing. "you’re just using that as an excuse to admire her. you’ve been acting like this for weeks, hanni. just admit it. remember her prada post?"

hanni opens her mouth to argue, but the words die in her throat. she knows danielle’s right, and that makes it worse. instead of responding, she just sinks further into the couch, burying her face in her hands.

danielle pats her on the back with a chuckle. "don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. for now."

hanni groans, peeking through her fingers at you again. you’re still deep in conversation, oblivious to the way she’s been spiraling.

"you’ve got it bad," danielle teases softly, her tone more understanding now. "but it’s okay. maybe just… give it time. you two are good together, even if you don’t know where to go from here yet."

hanni nods, grateful for danielle’s support, but her eyes drift back to you. she can’t help it—there’s something about you that keeps pulling her in, no matter how hard she tries to resist.

—

it’s late, and the dorm is quiet. hanni sits on her bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen. she’s been thinking about you all week (she’s always thinking about you), the tension that had built between you two finally dissipating after your brief talk. things have felt… fine, normal even, but it’s almost too normal. like the distance you both addressed had just been covered up with another flimsy bandaid, never fully resolved.

the problem is, she can’t stop thinking about you. and danielle, who’s oddly observant, keeps urging her to clear the air.

"just talk to her," danielle had said earlier, as they watched you laugh with the others during practice. "y/n wouldn’t let this mess up your friendship, you know that."

and now, as hanni sits there, her fingers hover over her phone screen, wondering if she should actually text you. she taps out a simple message before she can second guess herself:

hanni: you up?

the reply comes almost instantly:

y/n: yeah, what's up?

hanni: can’t sleep

y/n: aw me neither i was calling my mom earlier and after that i couldn’t close my eyes for more than a minute

hanni: :-( sorry to hear

hanni doesn’t know what else to say, but you beat her to the chase.

y/n: come over?

her heart races for no reason, and before she knows it, she’s standing in front of your room. she hesitates for a moment, then knocks softly before opening the door.

you’re sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. you’re worried that you scared her off again after being left on read. thankfully there’s a knock at your door a minute later, and when you see her, you offer a small smile. "hey."

"h-hey," hanni says, feeling a little awkward as she steps inside and sits on the edge of your bed. there’s a brief silence, the kind where you can both feel the unsaid words hanging in the air. she picks at her fingernails, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. you’re still in your pajamas, hair a little messy, looking so comfortable that it’s hard to look away.

after a beat, you exhale, breaking the tension. "fuck this," you mutter, shifting to lay down on the bed, patting the space next to you. "come on."

hanni blinks, then, after a moment’s hesitation, lies down beside you. the bed feels small with both of you so close, but she’s trying to act normal, like her heart isn’t doing backflips just from being near you. you both stare up at the ceiling for a moment before you start talking, and to hanni’s relief, it feels natural.

you talk about everything—the group, your recent worries about the new routines, the photoshoots you’ve got lined up, how excited you are about the new choreography. hanni listens, nodding along, occasionally chiming in about her own thoughts. it feels comfortable, almost like it used to be, like there’s nothing between you but shared conversation.

"i’m really liking the new choreo," you say, turning your head slightly to look at her. "it’s intense, but it’s fun, right?"

hanni nods, her voice soft. "yeah, i love it. i think it’s one of our best routines."

there’s a pause, the kind that feels more like a breath than an interruption. she glances at you, and for a moment, everything feels lighter. like maybe this is enough—just talking, just being close like this.

"you’ve been doing great, by the way," you add quietly, eyes meeting hers, and suddenly both of you are all too hyperaware of how close and physical this is. "i know things have been weird, but i’m glad we’re good."

hanni swallows, her throat feeling tight as she stares at you. for a moment, she considers saying more, opening up about everything she’s been feeling. about how she’s been avoiding you because being close makes her too nervous, how danielle’s been pushing her to be honest, how she’s been daydreaming about you too much for her own good; she considers dropping the fact that she’s in love with you. but instead, she just gives you a small, appreciative smile.

"yeah," she whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "i’m glad too."

maybe it’s because it’s late and you’re too tired to keep pretending, sick of shrinking into some shell. maybe it’s because hanni is right there, looking like a dream, even more than that. maybe you’re young, stupid, and undeniably in love with her. the tension has been building all night, and before you can stop yourself, the words leave your lips, making your chest feel impossibly tight.

“i need to be honest with you,” you murmur, picking at your fingers beneath the blanket. “and you can pull away and leave after i say it.”

hanni frowns, sitting up slightly. “what?”

you swallow hard, the weight of your confession heavy in your throat. you sit up and put your face in your hands. “hanni, i like you. i like you the way people do in love songs. i like you like people yearn for each other in half the songs on your playlist. i don’t know any other way to say it, i’m—i’m sorry.”

there’s a beat of silence, a long, agonizing pause where you feel your heart shrinking into itself. hanni stares at you, her brows twitching, mouth slightly open, and all you can do is pray that this isn’t the moment everything falls apart.

“are you serious?”

you flinch. “i’m sorry—”

“no, no.” hanni shakes her head, turning away to stare up at the ceiling, hands covering her face. "i need a minute."

your heart shatters, the weight of rejection sinking deep. “hanni, i’m so sor—”

“don’t be.” she lifts her hands just enough to show her forehead, a wide smile breaking across her face. "oh my god. i like you too. i’ve been trying to tell you, i didn’t know how. danielle has been telling me to confess for weeks, but i was so scared."

your breath catches. "wait—seriously?"

hanni nods, still grinning, and suddenly everything shifts. the tension that had been suffocating you both breaks, leaving the air light and giddy. you both can’t look at each other for a moment, the sheer happiness boiling up inside making you fidget, trying to contain the laughter threatening to spill out. it’s a nice contrast from the (what seemed like) years of pining.

your hearts are pounding, faces flushed, and the awkward energy between you only makes it all the more real. now you’re both sitting next to each other like two middle schoolers in love—something like that—giddy, flustered, and shocked.

hanni glances at you through her lashes, then covers her face again, laughing softly. “i can’t believe this.”

“i can’t believe it either,” you admit, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

for a second, neither of you move. then, on a whim, you reach out and take her hand, the touch sending a rush of warmth through your body. hanni turns to you, her eyes meeting yours with that same mix of nervous excitement. it feels like time slows down, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. and before either of you can talk yourselves out of it, you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a soft, tentative kiss.

the world stops for a moment.

when you pull back, both of you are breathless, grinning like losers.

"oh my god," hanni says, eyes wide, voice barely above a whisper. “was that too quick? did we rush it?”

you laugh softly. "probably. but i think i would like, die if we hadn’t… yeah.”

without saying anything else, you both lay back down, facing each other on the bed, your fingers still intertwined. it feels easy now, like a weight has lifted, and the giddiness that lingers makes it impossible to stop smiling.

eventually, the talking fades, and you both drift off, tangled together, feeling a sense of peace that neither of you had realized you were missing.

everything feels right for the first time in weeks---hanni in your arms, your arms wrapped around hanni, being close to hanni, hanni close to you---and there's nothing that makes you happier in the moment.

#kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans hanni #hanni pham x reader #hanni x reader #pham hanni x reader #hanni pham #newjeans imagines

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miwiheroes · 2 months ago

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Mike Wheeler and his Promise

"It means something that you can't break. Ever."

A huge part of Mike Wheeler's hidden character arc is set up in season 1, episode 2 with this scene right here. It's pretty much the motivation behind many of his actions towards El and Will, can be a partial explanation for his internalised homophobia and explains why he seems like to have a saviour complex.

Narratively, promises are made to be broken. When writers decide to make a promise 'important' and emphasise that this promise cannot be broken, ever, it will always come back to bite that character in the ass. Promises are either made to be broken in stories like these, or they are made to make a character feel trapped. Promises are rarely ever used in a romantic fashion unless the character cannot keep their promise or they feel like they are forced to.

What makes it really seem like Mike and El are a doomed couple to me is that the writers chose Mike to say: Ever.

No word is misplaced in writing a script. There is no such thing as an unintentional line in Stranger Things tbh, and this word in particular means two things:

Mike will always keep his promises throughout time.

Mike will keep his promises no matter if circumstances change, no matter if his feelings change.

There is no reason for this line to be in there other than to foreshadow the fact that Mike will eventually have to eat the words from his naive 12-year-old self. He will eventually regret promising something, but he'll feel like he can't go back. Ever.

The domino effect Promise begins:

*Smiling* "And we can go to the Snow Ball."

*Smiling* "Promise?"

*No longer smiling* "Promise."

This promise was made in order to foreshadow that it doesn't come true right? Because that is often what happens to promises narratively, and of course, it can't come to be because they get separated and Mike thinks she's died.

But.... the promise does come true.

So instead, this promise was made, narratively, to trap Mike. While this seems harsh of course, this young Mike has no idea that what he has just promised to himself is not only to go to the Snow Ball with El (which was a promise made to comfort her here, to make her feel like she will survive). He doesn't necessarily seem happy about making this promise. He seems more... indifferent. Knowing that this is something he just has to do.

Yeah, because this is definitely the actors' expressions and lighting and scenery you want for a first kiss, right?

So not only has Mike promised to go to the Snow Ball with her, he has also promised to save her, he has promised to be with her. And he can't break this promise, ever.

Even when his feelings change:

The writers separated Mike and El and put Mike with Will in season 2 for a reason. They used it to build up a good development of Mike and Will's dynamic of course, but it was also to change Mike's feelings.

It eventually becomes apparent to the viewer that Mike has resigned himself to not finding El. In season 2 episode 2, the last time we see Mike on the walkie, he walks away. Music swells and El looks onwards. Instead of looking happy, she seems disappointed that her bond with Mike is not as strong as she thought.

Mike, after his talk with Will in the same room, has begun to give up.

And over time, he figures out that maybe... maybe finding and choosing to Will's friend is the best thing he's ever done instead. Once he figures this out, he cries, he's not loud, he's not angry. But it's at least the thing to bring Will's message forward.

Then El comes back, and Mike feels like a liar.

I've never really figured out why Mike shouts 'LIAR!' many times towards Hopper when he's clearly projecting as he starts to cry. Until now. It's the guilt that he didn't keep his promise. The promise he had made back when El had almost died, back when El had clearly thought promises could never be broken. EVER. Even when feelings change.

Of course he'd felt pissed at Hopper. Hopper was the one to keep El safe, not Mike, which is not the thing he had promised.

When El returns, Mike says:

"I never stopped looking for you."

Woops, Michael, that's a bald-faced lie, and you know it. But he also knows what a promise is, something that can't ever be broken.

Mike is now committed into this relationship. He's ready to keep El as his girlfriend for many reasons, but the next commitments he makes (i.e. saying 'I love you') are not intentional.

In season 3:

Saying 'I love her' happens on accident, she's never meant to hear. The next time he's asked about it, he fumbles and wants to deny ever saying it. But when El says it back, he realises... oh shit. I really am in this now. I can't escape, even though I know my feelings are different.

In the famous words of Hopper. "I don't want things to change." "[I want] to go back to how [we] were."

Throughout summer, before the Mindflayer, his relationship with El was easy, it was fine. He could deal with this because he can still go to movie theatres with Will and his friends and El can't go out in public. His relationship isn't real, and the fights they have are just 'silly, stupid fights'.

But then she says she loves him too and now what? He realises this is real, he can't go back on what he's said again. Because no matter what, a promise can't be broken.

Now:

He has to reject childish things and pretend to be 'normal' (but only around El).

He has to keep away from Will, who has the potential to break his promise to El forever.

He still can't say 'I love you' because of this great big commitment, this potential for change, and El clocks him, despite his best efforts to keep up the same relationship he was trying to have in season 3.

When he no longer has the threat of this great big PROMISE looming over him, when he feels that El has no broken up with him through that note signed 'From, El', he now suddenly has the ability to act close to Will. When he's confident that El's safe and that they just need to get back to Hawkins, he's able to express how he really feels.

He can finally, finally work with Will without feeling guilty.

That is, until El's in danger again. Until Argyle reminds him of the ramifications of his girlfriend being missing, reminding him of the promise that he's always made.

That's when this intimacy with Will suddenly feels taboo again:

The next time he needs to make a commitment towards her, it's through pressure. The bottom line is, Mike likes being a hero, he wants to be a saviour, but he was never ready for it to feel like this.

When Will reminds him that he's the heart of the Party in Surfer Boy Pizza, he believes that it could never be Will that needs him, but that Will's telling him that it really is El that still needs him. And that she always will.

So he holds her hand, exactly like he did back in season one, and makes his Promise again, this time, knowing that he's trapping himself.

Now, instead of a naive kid, he's a teenager, he's changed, despite not wanting to. He's resigning himself to a life without truly being able to express his feelings. He's not just some kid going to the Snow Ball with a girl that he cares about, he's promising to love her, knowing he's trapped himself in this promise again.

After all, he's already promised to save her, and if he thinks saying 'I love you' will save her, he's gotta do it no matter his true feelings right?

In season 5, someone, someone needs to tell this poor boy that he does not need to keep his promise. El needs to tell him about her growth, what she has learned from her time at the lab---that is, that she does not need Mike to love her, which she seems to have understood. She has already accepted that her lover won't arrive at the train station.

And Mike should realise that saying 'I love you' did not in fact save El. It was the reminder to fight, that Max is in trouble, that there are more important things, bigger than their relationship, that allowed her to escape the vines.

So when Mike hears that he no needs to keep up this promise, that he no longer has to hate himself for being a 'liar' to someone he cares so much about, that he can open himself up to happiness and understanding again, he'll probably feel pretty complete.

What do you think?

#byler #byler endgame #byler nation #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #stranger things 5 #byler evidence #byler proof #byler analysis #mileven is bones #anti mileven

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dekariosclan · 1 year ago

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Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.

And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.

So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.

And then it happens again. And again.

And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.

So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?

Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.

He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.

So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.

————

Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.

…and then he meets Tav.

At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.

Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.

But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.

…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.

Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…

But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.

And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.

One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?

Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?

He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…

He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.

It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.

…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.

————

Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.

But it still all came to nothing.

Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.

Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.

Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.

Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.

Just imagine.

#Please enjoy this huge dissertation about Gale #(which was unintentional)#I originally wanted to talk briefly—BRIEFLY—about why the weave scene is so important to him #And then I….kept writing lol #Please also note that while this focuses on successfully channeling the weave I also LOVE the talk you have with him if you ‘failed’ it!#The same themes apply there because when you tell Gale you still think about being alone together he replies that he hopes to embrace you #It’s all about Gale finally finding someone who appreciates him just as he is and being able to connect with them #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #bg3

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ceesimz · 5 months ago

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the love you have is better spent in some other place

knowing love and accepting love are two different things.

despite the menacing title+summary, it's not all doom and gloom :)

The funny thing about Alexia Putellas is that she's the version of herself she always imagined to be when she was younger. Yet, at the same time, she's nothing like she thought she would be.

She's as good at football as she knew she could be. All the titles one could want, she has them under her belt. There are all kinds of awards scattered around her apartment, as well as her family home in the care of her mother. Stadiums chant her name in the same way she witnessed at Camp Nou with her father's hand in hers as a young girl. The combination of her name and number is spotted on the back of nearly every Barcelona shirt around the world, treasured near and dear to millions of hearts in the same way she cherished her Xavi shirt.

Her wildest dreams had come true when it came to her career. But in her personal life, things weren't quite the same.

Alexia had known from a younger age than most that she would end up marrying a woman rather than a man. That she would be the best spouse she could possibly be for her own wife. And when that opportunity seemed to arise, having a partner to love who is at her side throughout everything, it came at the most inconvenient time for her.

She acknowledged that, but failed to be the greatest version of herself for the woman of her dreams. Just as she was back from her injury, after winning the most notorious trophy of them all with her country and feeling like the world was hers, it all came falling down. The timing of it was exceptionally awful.

Football wasn't quite the same for her. Something was off. Her knee felt heavy, and it was evident in the way she played. Every game, it got worse and worse. With that came the anxiety, the doubt, the shame that she wasn't who she once was. And maybe she never would be that version of herself again.

That's when you came in. A saving grace, almost. Just one day in November weeks before her arthroscopy, the last attempt to recover and reinstate her name into the sport she loved, you and all you were walked in and flicked the lights in her desolate heart back on. You were a reminder of who she could be, you gave her a reason to change her ways, and if she never returned to football again, at least you never knew that part of her. She could take the fresh opportunity with you and grow into it, without having to face the embarrassment of no longer being the dominant figure of European football.

But she couldn't change her ways. Despite the fact that she didn't have to shy away from who she was, despite the fact she recovered and the surgery was as successful as it could be, she couldn't change her ways.

If Alexia had known about the deep-rooted problems she had surrounding love, she wouldn’t have put you through those first few months of your relationship. That time of her life was a dark one, where she hated the world just as much as herself, until you came along. Like the light at the end of the tunnel, she headed towards it, but with each step she took, the light never got any closer. It stretched on, slipping between her fingertips like water. The affection you gave her was there, but she never quite accepted it for herself. And it ate her up inside, gave her even more reason to loathe what her life had become.

In no way was it your fault, she knew from the moment she left you the night of your first date that there was so much wrong with her. Instead of working on those things, she chose to be selfish. She wanted you, despite the fact she didn’t want herself, and sure, maybe it did work out in the long run. But if time travel became a thing, it wouldn’t take her longer than a second to decide to go back and change her whole approach to falling in love with you. For her, that period of time was tarnished by her internal torment, when she should have given in to the desire to fall into your arms with no second thought rather than ruminate on all the wrong-doings she had been through.

Something had to change, she had to change, to ensure that didn't happen. She just didn't know how. How does one fix something that's been broken for years? Where does she even start?

Love was something everybody chased, whether that be platonically or romantically, and it was a bizarre concept, really. Was it a universal thing, or just something that occurred in this world only? What happened on the other planets? If there is life out there, what do they chase? Love, or something else?

Alexia began to think it was the latter, and that there was something so deeply wrong with her for her to reject such a beautiful idea when it was all anybody longed for. Almost as if her problems were alien to everyone else, because even her friends and family looked at her in utter confusion when she first stated she didn’t intend to go on a second date with you. Underneath the facade, there was nothing she wanted more than to chase the love you had to offer. She needed it, like food, like water, like oxygen. Why couldn’t she accept it for herself? It was something she wasn’t able to understand, and it felt unnatural to reach out and tell you how much she enjoyed the evening with you when her skin crawled at the hands of the devil on her shoulder, spewing all kinds of hate and insecurities in her ear.

She did it anyway, and it had worked itself out eventually. That’s how she had got here, months later, laying on her sofa with your arms around her and her head on your chest, finally at a place where she could accept your love with no second thoughts. However, the guilt still ripped through her whilst you were none the wiser (or so she thought), and she wanted that to change. That filled her with fear, approaching a topic she could barely stomach thinking about, but you had stuck around all this time and if it scared you away now, she was the only one to blame that she couldn’t have relished in your love longer.

—

The first time that you noticed something might be amiss with Alexia was after the third date. You’d known each other for a number of weeks now, and spoke near enough everyday. It was hard for the footballer to find time in her schedule to fully dedicate her time to you, which is how you ended up texting each other almost all day every day. But on the fourth date, when she joined you for breakfast one morning, she walked in like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Each time you had seen her, there was a look in her eye that drew the image of a dark cloud following her wherever she went, but as soon as she settled into your company, it went away. She smiled, she laughed, her eyes creased with unfiltered joy when she was with you. Yet, when it was time for you to go your separate ways, that cloud loomed again. It weighed so heavily upon her, it was almost as if you could feel it too. Still, that didn’t deter you from falling in love with her.

There was something different about her though, on that fourth date. It was hard for you to not feel a little anxious when she sat down and that cloud didn't drift away like it usually did. The thought consumed you; maybe she was growing tired of you, since you didn't seem to have the same effect on her anymore. As it turned out, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Just as you were about to leave for work, she reached out to take your hand as you bid each other goodbye outside of the café, and she leaned down to kiss you. It wasn’t the first kiss you had shared, but for some reason it felt like the last. There were too many emotions tied into it, and instead of getting that fluttery, lovesick feeling you got when you kissed her, all you felt was dread.

However, before you could ruminate on that thought, she saved you the anguish and pushed through the mental roadblock that tried to stop her from being honest, and told you what was on her mind. She went against her instinct and opened up, for your sake.

“I am having surgery after Christmas. It’ll be some time before I can go on a date like this with you again and I don’t expect you to wait for me. So… I am giving you an out.”

The look in her eyes had darkened, a facade built to temporarily shield her from the pain of hearing you agree and watching as you walk down the street, out of her life. Because how could you be with someone that was putting their weakness on show? How could you want to stay with someone that’s admitting there is something wrong with them? It went deeper than just a medical procedure, this surgery, it ran so much deeper and Alexia knew that you understood that, it didn't take a genius to piece the puzzle together of what was weighing her down. That’s why she was giving you an out.

You didn’t want an out. You wanted to stay. And you would go to the ends of the earth and back to make sure Alexia knew that.

“No. I don’t want an out. I want you to let me in, to let me stay.” You told her definitively, taking a step closer and looking up at her with concern etched all over your face. If the way she leaned into the hand that rested on her cheek after that was anything to go by, you knew she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her emotions at bay. “I don’t want to go. I want you, Alexia, and all that comes with having you. And most of all, I want you to believe me when I say that.”

Everything in her body told Alexia to refute that, to shake her head and to walk away for you. She knew she couldn’t be the partner she wanted to be, with all that came with having surgery, and she adored you too much to sit there and watch you shrink into yourself as a result of her own fatalistic miserableness.

However, she went against her instincts once more, and simply nodded once as her lower lip quivered. That gave her away; her whole demeanour cracked then, as you wrapped her up in your arms and hugged her tightly. It didn’t last long, Alexia wouldn’t allow that for herself, but it was enough for you. You’d take it for now.

Even despite the confirmation from you, Alexia didn’t believe you would stay. That wasn’t a problem because of you, it was because of her. The blonde thought the world of you, but not for herself. She had been labelled the best in the world countless times, but the events of the past eighteen months had caused her to strip herself of that title. In her mind, she wasn't worthy of your time and care, you deserved better than the grumpy version of her that she would be until she heard back about her surgery results.

And to no one’s surprise, it was her insecurities that underestimated you. Because you showed up the day after her surgery with open arms and love in your heart.

Alba had somehow gotten your number whilst Alexia was in the operating room, and had formed a plan with you. The younger Putellas had heard about you very briefly from her sister over the last weeks, and though she couldn’t pull more information from her sister no matter how hard she tried, it was unfortunately a gene in the Putellas-Segura family that everyone held their true feelings in their eyes. It just didn't help that Alexia wore her heart on her sleeve too.

Alba thought of herself as somewhat of a professional when it came to reading Alexia, and she could see it in Alexia’s eyes how much she adored you. That point was further backed up by how Alexia, under the influence of some strong pain medication, spoke about you so lovingly as tears trailed down her cheeks. She spoke quietly, because even when she wasn’t sober, her subconscious knew what a sensitive topic it was for her, despite how the doubtful voices had been silenced.

And it was then that Alba had snuck out of the hospital room and called you, forming a plan for you to visit Alexia and inject some light back into her life as she recovered. It would be some time before the results of her arthroscopy were clear, and Alexia was anything but patient especially when it came to football. Everyone close to her knew she would be miserable, stuck at home on the couch or in bed, and there was hope that you would cheer her up.

You did. Though it took some time to extract that truth from her, you did cheer her up from the moment you walked in. Alba greeted you when you first arrived, speaking in a hushed voice for a few moments outside the front door to update you and ask how you were, before she left the two of you alone.

“Hey Ale.” You smiled, slowly making your way over to where she was sat up on the sofa with her leg resting and bandaged.

“What are you doing here?” Alexia asked in a slight grumble, though that same dreamy look in her eyes made an appearance for just a second. You caught it and instantly felt reassured by that one small notion, a little more confident.

“I thought I would come and surprise you. Cheer you up a little bit.” You told her, sitting down beside her but being mindful of leaving a space so as to not overload her.

“But it is Christmas. You should be with your family.” You just shook your head at that.

“The woman I'm falling in love with just had surgery. I wanted to come and check on her.” A glimpse of a smile appeared then as you shuffled closer and gently took one of her hands.

“Falling in love, huh?” Alexia teased after a quiet moment with a smirk, dropping your joined hands into your lap and squeezing yours.

“You're not? I think you would be leading me on then.” You grinned shyly, giggling as she rolled her eyes and tutted.

“I… I am. You do not need to worry about that.”

You could live off of that admission forever. The little moments like that, the small gestures, you quickly learnt that they were how she showed her adoration. That was her being vulnerable, as much as she could, and you could handle that then. When some might have been deterred by it, you gave her a chance. You had a near infinite amount of patience for this woman, because she deserved the world and more. Your goal was to help her understand that.

She had her reasons for having her walls so high, for struggling to let people in, but you had gotten this far already and you'd be foolish to give up on her.

During that day, you were able to identify something about Alexia. And as the hours went on, it only became clearer and clearer. Even though she was the one hurting, mentally and physically, she would only have it so that she was the one holding you. If you tried to reverse the positions, she didn't let it happen. She would wordlessly reject the idea and carefully move you back to how you were, with no explanation. No matter how many times you tried, she just didn't let it happen.

Even when you tried to make dinner for her, she urged you to sit back down as she tried getting up and cooking instead. That was your final straw. You had patience, sure, but you weren't perfect.

“Alexia, let me take care of you, okay? Let me help, let me be there for you. I'm not above begging, so just let me be a good partner, please?” You sighed in exasperation. A flash of hurt consumed her eyes, but like always, she disguised it in an instant. But it struck your heart like a dagger, knowing you had accidentally targeted her most insecure spot. You couldn't tell if she realised it came from a place of love or not.

“Sorry. I'm sorry.” The blonde muttered under her breath before clearing her throat, her eyes dropped to her hands on her lap.

Exactly what you were trying to stop, you had made worse.

“Ale.” You murmured softly, placing both hands on her face to get her to look at you. Yet, she still found a way to keep her eyes averted. “Ale, look at me.”

“Do not apologise. You don’t need to.” One of her hands came up to rest on your forearm as her voice cracked and trembled. She sounded so dejected, it tore your heart in two. “I am difficult, I know that. So please… do not apologise. I do not deserve it.”

“What?” You whispered uncertainly, taking a moment to process what she had said. When it clicked, you frowned as you stroked your thumbs over the lines of her cheekbones. “Why would you say that?”

“The way I am, it… it is making you doubt what a good partner you are. But you’re not good, you’re the best I could ask for. And I am pushing you away.” Alexia fretted so quietly her words were almost intelligible. Key word almost.

“No, you are not pushing me away. I am right here, aren’t I? I told you, I’m here to stay.” You paused for a second, a silent moment that caused Alexia’s anxiety to spike. Your next words didn’t exactly help either. “I’m going to ask you a question, okay? Let me ask you something.”

“Okay.” Alexia nodded dutifully, hoping you didn’t see the nervous gulp that followed.

“I want to be your girlfriend. Will you let me be your girlfriend?”

You gazed at her, eyes full of hope that this would be the moment she let you in. It wouldn't be smooth-sailing from here, you were more than aware of that, but this could be the start of something that would improve both your lives for the better. The start of a life together that could make you better people.

“Sí. Sí, quiero que seas mi novia. I would love nothing more.” Her reaction was better than you could have wished for.

In an instant, she melted into you; her forehead dropped against yours and tension you didn't even know was there in the first place left her shoulders. You offered your arms out and she leaned forward into you with no second thought. You hoped that was a sign of things to come.

As you expected, though, it wasn’t always that simple. Some days, she was still distant. Not in her affection or attitude, it was just that she was stuck in her own mind more often than you had expected.. Being able to spend more time with her as her girlfriend meant you came to spot the signs, and despite the fact that you didn’t yet live together, things were even more noticeable than before.

Like, for example, when she was especially struggling, but she tried with all her might to hide it. Sometimes, when she was going through a tough week, you could see in her eyes of course the turmoil that dragged her down more everyday. It wasn’t all doom and gloom, there were countless occasions where she was smiling up into her eyes and the two of you were happy together, but for the footballer, joy wasn’t a permanent thing. It wasn’t her average mood.

Her physical fitness could take her up the highest mountains, but over the years her mental stamina had been stamped on, it had reached its limits, and it couldn't quite break out of the confines of her insecurities. They had no boundaries, they showed up when they wanted and silently tore through her. Those eyes you adored, more often than not, were weighed down by burdens that you probably didn’t even know half the truth about.

There was one evening, a while after her surgery when she was flying through rehab, that everything reached its peak for her. You decided to surprise her by being at her flat when she got home one day that week – what you were met with was far worse than you could have predicted.

Your excitement at the sound of the door opening and shutting was swiftly replaced by overwhelming concern at the sound of sniffles that followed. You left the kitchen where you had just ordered Alexia’s favourite takeaway and headed in the direction of your girlfriend’s footsteps that went straight towards the bedroom. Seemingly she hadn't heard you, a curiosity instantly proven true by the sounds of choked cries coming from the figure that was slumped over, her fists leaning on the bed as her chin was to her chest whilst she cried.

Not for a second did you hesitate rushing over, coming to stand by her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She startled, unsurprisingly, and moved to hastily wipe the tears away in an attempt to mask the emotions coursing through her nervous system at that moment in time. It was too late, she knew that, but it didn’t stop her.

“Q-qué haces aquí?” Alexia asked, her voice stuttering and shaking as she spoke. Your arm stayed around her, your other hand wiping her tears with a tenderness too soft for her, she thought. “No, por favor.”

“Ale, talk to me. What’s the matter? Please let me in, please don’t shut me out when you’re like this.” The pleas fell from your mouth before you could properly think of what you were saying. It wasn’t the best thing to say, adding guilt to the list of things she was struggling with wasn’t your smartest idea.

“I can’t do this, amor.”

The statement shocked you, the ease of which it left her mouth was unusual. But the shock wore off quick, making way for the worry that sprung to your mind because that short sentence was enough to signify just how terribly she was feeling.

Her voice was uncomfortably rough as she spoke too, despite her only saying five words, you could tell that she had spent the drive home forcing back her cries. It takes a lot of energy to break down and release everything in sharp sobs, but it takes even more to hold back all that emotion. Forcing back tears hurt, and it wasn’t a surprise that her voice was hoarse and hardly there at all.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You weren’t sure if something specific had happened that day or if this was a build-up of everything, but no matter what it was, you urged her into a tight hug, ensuring she was engulfed in the love you held for her. “You will be okay, Ale, I promise.”

It took some time for her to calm down enough to talk, but whilst she did, you moved the pair of you onto the bed so you could hold her properly. She didn’t even put up a fight when you urged her to lay on top of you, your arms wrapped securely around her back as she hid her face in your neck. All she did was cry out the mass of emotions that were consuming her, and you just prayed that being there for her as she did so was enough to ease it, even if it was only a miniscule amount.

Feeling concerned for her wasn’t a new experience for you – feeling downright devastated and grief-stricken for the woman sobbing in your arms was new. Never before had you seen her like this, and it scared you to death. All the possibilities that could be making her feel like this seemed insurmountable, like they were too big a challenge to tackle.

That didn’t matter to you. You would try for her, always.

“Do you feel like you could try to talk to me? Getting some of it off your chest might help.” You said softly, one of your hands slipping under her shirt to trail your fingertips up and down her back, something you knew soothed her. She gave a minute nod, which you felt more than you saw, and it gave you a brief feeling of relief. “Okay. In your own time, Ale.”

A few quiet minutes passed by, the footballer on top of you allowing herself some time to relish in the infrequent position she found herself in. She loved it. And it only gave the insecure voice in her head more ammunition to use against her; why can’t she allow her girlfriend to do this? She can never bring herself to accept it, but the day’s exertion had battered her defiance and left a hollow shell of her persona. If she looked in a mirror, she would probably be unrecognisable to herself.

Sometimes, in her weakest moments, she thought you were better off without her. Better off not being dragged down by her miserable nature. You, the definition of beauty and light, with someone that exudes negativity and weakness. Someone that is the embodiment of imperfection with a person that is priceless. It didn’t make sense to her still, she wasn't sure it ever would.

“Every… everything is just so hard.” She spoke, letting out a shaky breath into the skin of your neck. You hummed sympathetically, giving her the space to elaborate whilst acknowledging what she had said. “Rehab is so tiring and I do not know why. I am not being given the space I need by the team to recover, they still expect so much from me and there is so much pressure. People online, the media and the fans, are talking about me a lot more than usual, which I do not understand because I am not even on the pitch. Some things that are being said are bad. And… I think I am not what you need, or deserve.”

Her face stayed hidden in your neck whilst she spoke, and you let her do that. Being vulnerable and open like that was hard, you didn’t underestimate that, and you would take it in any form because it was progress. You weren’t happy with what she had said because it broke your heart, but it was the first step of her opening herself up to help.

“Alexia, it is okay to feel overwhelmed. That sounds a lot like what you are feeling right now.” You started, your hand still slowly trailing up and down her back. “I’m so glad you told me, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling like this. There’s things that can be put in place to help you.”

You plant the seed, subtly, that she can get help. But really, all you can focus on is the fact they are all things you can help with. With the majority of her admission, they are things that can be changed to lessen the load of her newfound daily life after her second surgery. The last part, you know you can help with indefinitely. It won’t be quick, nor will it be easy, but reminding her of how much you value her is something you planned to do for the rest of your life anyway. Perhaps you just had to do it a bit more than you initially thought.

“You can talk to the team, tell them exactly what you need. They’re sensible, you know that, they’ll do whatever you need them to do. You just need to have the bravery to ask for help, which is a difficult step in itself, but I know you can do it. You’ve told me what’s on your mind and that’s something I’m not taking for granted because I understand it doesn’t come easy to you, and for that I’m so proud of you. So proud. And if you want me to help you come up with a plan of what you need or what you will say to the club, I can help you with that.”

“You will help me?” She murmured, lifting her head up to look down at you with red, tired eyes and tear streaks down her cheeks. You smiled up at her and nodded, unwinding an arm from around her to brush the damp tracks away.

“With anything. Anything at all, I promise.” You told her, hoping the mixture of your words and the sincerity in your voice conveyed all that you wanted her to understand. “I also think you would benefit from a break from social media and most things online. Why don’t you ask someone on your team to run your accounts for you for a little while? Or ask your agent to hire someone to do that? I think it will be good to step away from that so you can focus on the important things.”

“I have thought about it before.” Alexia revealed a moment later. “I will do that. I should have done it a long time ago. I am thinking about going to see the psychologist for some… help. I will book a session with her tomorrow.”

She seemed to be doing better than she was when you first walked in on her. Her voice wasn’t so rough, it no longer sounded like it was taking every ounce of energy to get her words out, and her breathing was a lot more even than it was a few minutes beforehand. Accepting help didn’t seem so terrifying when the words were coming out of your mouth.

Where before, she was deterred by the idea of reaching out, too focused on her shame to find a way out of her turmoil, now she didn’t feel so scared by it. For so long, the world seemed like a tunnel with no end, but now there’s a crack, however small, giving her a glimpse of what life she could live without being restricted by her burdens. The idea that help is available felt foreign to her, and though she might still be uncertain about the path that had been offered to her, in your arms comforted by the thought of having someone to guide her down it, she found that she could breathe a little easier. There’s a sense of possibility, of no longer having to walk alone.

Hope was beginning to brew inside of her, and she felt compelled to reach out and grasp it with both hands. There was a quiet flicker of warmth that took the place of the cold numbness that once lived on inside her. Neither of you had all the answers in that moment, change doesn’t happen overnight and you both know that, and because of that there is a delicate balance of fear and relief that settled between you.

It’s the first time since Alexia can remember that she felt like maybe things could change for the better.

“Good. Both those things will be so good for you. I’m so proud of you.” You said, turning to kiss her forehead.

“It’s not up to you to decide what I need or deserve. I do need you, and I do deserve you. You’re the only one I could ever want, now that I’ve met you I know I could never be with anyone else again. You are struggling, and that’s okay. I’ll be here at your lowest, I’ll be here at your highest, and I know you would do the same for me. You know I love you, right?”

At your declaration, especially the last part which she had heard a few times now, her heart clenched as she squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to sob again, but out of pure happiness, because regardless of how many times you would say it to her over your lives, it would still be the most important statement to her. Hearing it at that very moment was so important.

“I do. I really do, amor. I just… sometimes I do not understand why.”

You pursed your lips at her response, wondering why the world had to treat her so poorly that her self-worth had been reduced to something so unimportant to her. You know for a fact there’s probably millions of people out there that idolise her, think of her as a hero, the perfect role model, but you also know that the insecurities she had weren’t on Alexia Putellas’ behalf. They were on Ale’s behalf. There were two versions of her, and the powerful woman that adorned the armband day-in and day-out for the club she’s committed her life to wasn’t the one combatting all these issues. It was just Ale, your girlfriend, her mother’s daughter, her sister’s older sibling, her aunt and uncle's niece, the ever-reliant and trustworthy companion of her friends.

Alexia knew that, and you did too. You couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult that must be to juggle for Alexia, leading two extraordinarily different lives in one lifetime. You hope, with the right help, she can learn to allow them to co-exist together and not be so far away from each other. She had expressed similar thoughts to you before, how difficult she finds it switching between the two everyday, though you knew she probably hadn’t even scratched the surface about how much it affected her.

You were content with not being fully clued in, because there were some things that people preferred to keep private, and for Alexia one of those things was her thoughts. Your mission was to help her deal with those healthily, unlike how she had for the past god knows how long. Whatever worked for her, worked for you.

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m secure in my love for you, and that’s enough. I know you love me too. That’s all we need.”

After that day, it was as if a switch had been flicked. There was a distinct difference in her, in all aspects of her life, and she seemed truly happy. You had come to understand that you couldn’t wholly fix her, especially not just with words. All you could do was love her, which you would do for as long as she would let you.

So you met her defiance with kindness, her feigned confidence with support, and her insecurities with reassurance. And slowly, you began to see the progress in her. Truthfully, it might be one of the most beautiful things you'd ever had the privilege to witness. Allowing yourself to feel every ounce of your joy made it easier for Alexia to grow and settle into that prospect of living too.

Not only did the counselling help her mental health, it made her better at communication, understanding, and just about every other thing that you didn’t even think needed improving in the first place. Each day, you adored her more and more. It takes a lot to accept help, but it’s an entirely different thing to wake up every morning and get out of bed, knowing what lies ahead was unexplainably difficult to overcome but facing it head on anyway.

However, the biggest evident difference came when she was cleared to play football again. With each milestone, came a newer, happier version. First it was being substituted on, stepping foot in a game after months of waiting, and straight after, it was her first goal back. The rain couldn’t dampen her spirits that day, nothing could, because thought past-Alexia would be disappointed with how scrappy the goal was, the new version of her was just happy to have a ball at her feet and making a difference for her team. Maybe past-Alexia would be angry with that fact too, at how overjoyed she was with a goal like that, but she didn’t dwell on that for too long. She was trying to change and she was making better progress than she could have dreamed of, she wasn’t going to stop that.

Her hard work was clear to see in the ache in her cheeks from the amount of time she spent smiling, something she didn’t even realise she had missed. Months down the line and she was in the best place mentally than she had been all her life. With that realisation, came the understanding that sometimes things have to fall down before they can be rebuilt again. She had that moment where she broke, in your arms, and since then she had rebuilt her life. The bad goes in hand with the good, and the highs are undoubtedly worth the lows.

Though, she still wasn’t perfect, no matter how badly that irritated her. Every part of her had improved, apart from the one thing she did it all for. It did happen less often, but she still doubted her capabilities as a girlfriend. She still worried she wasn’t good enough for you. The cloudy days of anxiety were nowhere near as frequent as they used to be, but they didn’t magically stop. That was still something she had to come to terms with.

—

A particularly harsh bout of anxiety hit one day, something that filled her unease because she thought these kinds of days weren’t supposed to happen anymore. Yet, here she was, lay in your arms as the toxic cycle of doubt circled endlessly in her mind. She tried, with all her might, to shove the thoughts to the side, to rebuke them and not let them ruin her evening, but they came thick and fast and there was simply no stopping them.

Something her psychologist had told her was that sometimes she just has to sit and let those feelings be. Thinking about how much she loathed them wouldn’t help, that would probably just make them worse. And taking the doubts and fuelling them by ruminating wouldn’t help either. But sitting there and letting them consume her as she did nothing to stop didn’t feel useful. So she let them come, and she took each knot of insecurity and made them bigger.

Nearly every moment of the last few months was tainted by the regret she felt. She really would give anything, she'd sacrifice it all, to go back and show her affection and appreciation more. From the moment she saw you, she knew you were special. She felt like she did a terrible job to show that, to the point where she wondered how she even found herself here right now with you.

Alexia had never really experienced impostor syndrome before, and she wasn't exactly sure that was the right term for the cloud of anxiety she was experiencing. She didn't doubt her love for you, in fact she was sure she had never loved a human as much as she loved you. It's just that, even after all this time, she still didn't think she deserved to be on the receiving end of such an idyllic thing, especially at your hands.

Her biggest fear, after all this time still, was losing you. Out of all the emotions that she had experienced in the past months, there was one that reigned superior throughout: disappointment.

Disappointment that was aimed entirely at herself. Disappointment that had so many things tied into it, she could hardly keep up. Guilt, shame, embarrassment, when she dumbed it down it all led to that same disappointment she just couldn’t get rid of.

She knows where she’s gone wrong all this time, she sort of knows why now thanks to her psychologist, but she has no idea how to stop that pattern of thinking, that she doesn’t deserve you. And because of that, a certain feeling of distaste for herself had grown over time, and it sat nestled in the back of her mind. It’s there, always, and it’s not afraid to make itself known. In the most unsuspecting moments, it comes seeping through the cracks of her mind, weaving its way into each and every aspect of her life, whether that be her memories or the present. Another fear of hers was that this disdain wouldn’t ever leave, even with hours spent in counselling and working on herself.

Like now. Even when she’s in your embrace, all she could think about is the guilt she had harboured for so long now, that at this point it felt like a tumour she had ignored for too long, one that had grown so big that it was now impossible to remove without causing more damage than good.

“Ale? You okay?” Your voice brought her back into the room, adding another crack to the fragile glass box Alexia kept her thoughts inside. The blonde felt like that box could shatter again anytime soon, and that would mean all of them could come spilling straight out. And that would be the end of it all, for good this time. Not like the other occasion where you welcomed her with open arms. Surely you would finally recognise you were sick of her when she inevitably falls apart once more.

“Hm? Sí, bien.” She smiled, a tight-lipped one that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes.

You knew what that was a sign of.

“Ale.” You said softly, hoping you didn’t have to fight her for her to admit there was something wrong.

“I’m okay, mi amor. I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I will be back soon.” She rose to her arms, surging forward to leave a kiss to your lips before you could protest. Then, she was gone, rounding the corner of the lounge into the apartment corridor, leaving you confused.

Five minutes passed by and you let her be, giving her her privacy. But then five minutes turned to ten, and ten to fifteen, and you couldn’t hold off any longer. Just as you expected, when you passed the main bathroom, the door was open and the light was off. It was then, when you looked to your left, you saw Alexia through the crack left by the ajar bedroom door, sat on the edge of the bed facing away. Her shoulders were slightly slumped, her elbows were on her knees, and she was looking out of the window across from her. The only positive was that you couldn’t hear sniffling coming from her this time.

The door creaked as you lightly pushed it open, but the blonde didn’t acknowledge it. At that, you stepped in and kneeled on the bed, making your way to sit behind Alexia and wrap your arms around her as your legs fell either side of hers whilst your cheek came to rest in between her shoulders.

Neither of you spoke; you didn’t want to pressure her into speaking just yet, and Alexia was building up the courage to finally get the last plaguing insecurity off her chest. It’s late evening, the sun growing ever-closer to the horizon, and the only light in the room was the orange haze of the sky, softening every feature of your girlfriend’s face with a golden touch. The light added to her vulnerability, acting as a lamp that displayed the most beautiful artwork you could imagine in a gallery.

For some time, there’s no movement within the room. Alexia doesn’t tear her eyes away from the sunset before her, though the look that’s embedded in the hazel and amber there is distant, lost in a maze of her own mind that she desperately tried to escape from so she could give you the answers you’re hoping for. The only movement you make is the sporadic kisses you dot over her back, as well as the soft, comforting movements of your thumb over her ribs where your hands sit.

The silence was weighted, though not with awkwardness or impatience, but with understanding – a silent invitation to speak without any pressure or expectations. In the quiet space you've provided, no words are needed, only the steady warmth of your body against hers that offers a subtle, grounding reminder that Alexia is not alone, and she never will be. You would always be there to give that to her.

“I love you.” Alexia broke the silence but not the bubble of serenity, producing a sentence that was far more layered than anyone outside of this room would ever understand.

“I know.” You reminded her, hugging her tighter back against you.

“I wish I could go back and redo it all.” She stated, a heaviness to it that had you smiling sadly.

“Redo what?”

“Our relationship.” The footballer didn’t miss the way you tensed ever so slightly, nor did she miss how you lifted your head up from its place on her back. “I am so happy I met you. I feel so lucky that you love me, that you chose me, even when I have been a mess. I would only change how I acted, because I feel like I have not properly shown you how much I love you. How special you are. I wish you had got the love you deserved rather than the coldness I showed because… I don’t think I have been a very good partner to you.”

Some time ago, you had guessed this was a part of Alexia’s anxiety, and that point had been proven when she admitted a few months back that she felt you deserved better. But you didn’t know that it troubled her to this extent. She believed the doubtful voice in the back of her mind so much that she truly thought she wasn’t worthy enough of this relationship. That killed you, because she had been nothing but perfect, despite her personal struggles, from the moment you met her.

“You were not cold, Alexia.” You started, kissing the back of her neck before continuing. “You were the opposite. You were warm and kind-hearted. You were compassionate and honest. I look back on those days so fondly because of how you made me feel. From the very first date, you allowed me to be myself and that was something that meant so much to me. And since then, you still surprise me all the time with how amazing you are. To put it simply, Ale, I wouldn't be here if you were cold or a bad partner. There is nobody else for me, it's only you and it'll always be you.”

Maybe this was the one inadequacy you could fix with your words.

“You really think of me like that?” Alexia asked in a sheepish whisper, turning her head slightly to look at you over her shoulder. You smiled brightly, nodded, and shuffled to sit beside her. One hand came up to rest on her cheek as you leaned forward and kissed her, soft and tentative, to convey all you could never find the words to tell her.

“I do think of you like that.” You whispered against her lips, foreheads together as your thumb lightly brushed over her lower lip. “And I hope one day you can look back and not see your flaws, but instead see the woman I fell in love with.”

She nodded because quite frankly she was speechless. And then there were tears filling her eyes that neither of you expected, which had you moving again as you slotted yourself into her lap. Her head fell to your chest, pulling you against her in a tight embrace. Your arms came around her neck, one laying across her shoulders and the other resting on the back of her head.

Your words slowly began to sunk in, finally, which was a weirdly cathartic feeling for Alexia. She wasn't sure why it was this specific moment that something snapped inside of her, but it did. What was once a topic that consumed her, took over her every thought and switched it with a venomous onslaught of overthinking suddenly started forming into a thing of the past.

All along, Alexia had no idea just how deep your understanding ran about her insecurity with the love she has to offer. She thought you weren't aware of the guilt she felt and the struggles she experienced, but you were. That, and more. She could never repay you for that. All she could do was love you for a lifetime and hope that was enough.

Half a year ago, you were just two people getting to know each other. You liked her and she liked you. You looked into each other’s eyes and saw a future together. Then, you both took that hope, nurtured it, and made a life for yourselves, together.

To anyone on the outside, this wouldn't seem like such a huge milestone. But to you and Alexia, this was a major turning point, for the better. Something like this wasn't expected when you first met, but that's the thing about love, isn't it? Nothing good comes easy, a part of life that Alexia had come to accept. Because it was so, so worth it in the end.

—

this fic was a little different but i hope it was good. first one that i have posted in the midst of my writing anxiety so i may or may not be terrified of posting this but well it's out now anyway. hope you enjoyed it <3

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso community #woso fic #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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ellieslittleslutt · 2 months ago

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Late Nights

cw: fluff?? vi calls reader cupcake and princess once but that expected. some vague mentions of insomnia i guess.

a/n: uhm so first vi fic that’s wild, defo going to write more roommate vi bc im yearning and i need her so bad it’s not even funny.

wc- 0.5k

🐛°‧🍂⋆.ೃ࿔*:･───────────────

you had problems with sleeping sometimes. wether it was going to bed at a reasonable time or even just getting a deep sleep it was always a problem with you.

tonight was no exception. you were lounging on the couch of your guys’ apartment, doom scrolling on tiktok mindlessly liking whatever you found the slightest bit relatable. it’s was around 1 am which wasn’t too bad but still not ideal. on the coffee table sat a your favorite mug full of sleepytime tea in hopes that it would coax you back to sleep, but like every other time it never worked and didn’t even taste that good.

you were huddled up in the blankets when you saw your pink haired roommate coming out of her room, hair messed up wearing sleep shorts and a sports bra. she didn’t notice you at first in the dark, but then she accidentally sat down on you causing you to yelp smacking her arm “vi get off of me” you groaned.

“shit sorry princess” she mumbled half asleep scooting over. that god damn nickname always got you. you huffed going back to your phone “why’re you up?” you mumbled glancing at her. “i could ask you the same thing hm?” she hums sipping your tea “eugh fuck, this taste like dirty cardboard water” her face in a tight frown putting the mug down. “why do you think it’s half full idiot”

she leaned back against the couch sighing “so wait why’re you up?” she asked glancing over at you. “couldn’t sleep” you hummed resting your head against your elbow looking at her “and you?”“fucking jayce kept calling me” she mumbled with a yawn “asking about how to get bitches.” you chuckled softly shaking your head “viktor?” you asked “you know it.”

you hummed looking over at her kind of star struck by how she looked. you swear you had cartoon heart eyes beating out of your eye sockets. she looked at you with a soft smile patting your shin “wanna watch a movie?” she asks snapping you out of your trance and you just nodded clearing your throat “oh yeah” you said awkwardly pushing yourself up reaching for the remote.

you two both agreed on mean girls because why the fuck not. you sat closer to her your head slowly lolling itself onto her shoulder, vi looked down at you wrapping an arm around you so that you don’t slump down “you’re gonna hurt your neck if you fall asleep like that” she whispered rubbing your arm.

you hummed sleepily in response your lashes resting against your cheeks. vi made the connection that you weren’t going to get back to bed on your own so she paused the movie, and got up slowly lifting you into her arms to carry you back to your room lying you back down onto your blankets tucking you into how you liked.

you don’t know why but just for some reason you felt comfortable around vi, more relaxed and like your self. this is one of the few nights you fell asleep before 3 am and without a melatonin.

vi walked to the door turning off the lamp “night cupcake” she said softly before shutting the door walking off to her room.

from that night on vi would meet you in the couch just so you could yes fall asleep in her arms, totally platonic though… right?

🐛°‧🍂⋆.ೃ࿔*:･───────────────

@autisticintr0vert wifey: @bugbit3ss

#arcane vi #vi arcane #violet arcane #vi #arcane season 2 #arcane #roommates!vi #tlou2 #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #loser!ellie #abby anderson #tlou abby

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mimikyuno · 1 year ago

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love and hope and kindness being the running motifs in madoka magica and the forces that can single-handedly save and curse someone.

madoka’s love and kindness being what saves homura from her suicidal tendencies, but also what ultimately dooms madoka to die at the hands of the walpurgisnacht. homura’s love for madoka and undying hope to save her what curses her to repeat time and traumatise herself over and over again, while also increasing madoka’s karma and by default, cursing her too. madoka’s refusal for homura’s hope to be in vain being the driving force that grants hope to all, but also ends madoka’s existence. sayaka’s love for kyousuke and her altruistic, heroic ideals being what gives her confidence and hope at first, but when confronted with misogyny and unrequited love (even when you told yourself you would not expect him to love you back just because you sacrificed yourself for him) being what curses her. kyouko’s love for her family being the catalyst that leads it to break apart, because in all her childlike devotion to her parents, she couldn’t see her father for who he was. mami’s kindness forcing her to put up a brave face and resulting in her demise.

but it all does not end in despair! sayaka’s newfound love for kyouko being the reason kyouko is no longer lost and angry and alone. mami’s kindness finding a recipient in nagisa, to whom she can finally be a parental figure. in one universe nagisa was the one to end mami’s existence, but now they can both heal and not be alone anymore. madoka’s love for homura encompassing time and space and saving her, every time, over and over again. even when homura does not want it. even when she refuses her hand. madoka will always reach for her and find her and save her and show her kindness, even when homura thinks she does not deserves any, even when she’s willing to die in her own personal hell. homura’s love being yes, what commits the unforgivable sin and tears god apart, but also it is only through her “selfishness” and “terrible” act that the others get a shot at a normal childhood/adolescence. kyouko and sayaka can be together at last, mami and nagisa find each other, madoka can live with her family again.

this is what i hope will be explored in the next movie. this intrinsic relationship between hope and despair, love as a lifeline and a curse. kindness and selfishness coexisting and influencing each other. i hope the girls manage to finally tip the scale between hope and despair towards the light. i hope madoka’s love will keep on reaching homura even when she thinks she’s evil incarnate, a devil. even when she thinks her existence as antithetical to madoka’s true nature. even when she thinks herself beyond salvation. i hope they get a shot at happiness, together this time.

#im going crazy if you cannot tell #im still running a fever so im sorry if this is like. nonsense #madoka magica #pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #walpurgis no kaiten #madohomu #kyosaya #madoka kaname #homura akemi #sayaka miki #kyouko sakura #mami tomoe #nagisa momoe #holy quintet #mine

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martinluvrr · 10 months ago

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FLATLINE | PAIGE BUECKERS

⋅˚₊‧ paige x fem!gf!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: y/n and paige experience what it means to be in a long distance relationship, but with the distance between them, can they overcome it?

⋅˚₊‧ warning : secret relationship, angst (kinda) ,long distance.

⋅˚₊‧ duayaps: first post🥳🥳🥳.

⋅˚₊‧ inspired by flatline by justin bieber.

⋅˚₊‧ nav ||

"I'LL MISS YOU" paige muttered against her neck.

"it'll go by before you know it" y/n said pulling away from the hug. When college applications started being filled, she took a big risk and applied for Politecnico di Milano, a fashion uni in Milan, Italy. She had already said goodbye to her parents, thinking that was the hardest goodbye she could imagine, but the tears in her eyes from saying goodbye to her girlfriend right now, told her she lied to herself a while ago.

Paige and y/n had always had a rocky side of their relationship, for one, it was a secret waiting to bomb the world, two, they always knew that long distance was going to be a thing for them. With Paige going to Uconn and Yn going to PDM, 'it was already doomed' said by most people. But overcoming the rocky side of their relationship, there was the fairytale side. The one where they in love, where they supported each other in everything, where they took each others first kisses, first everything. They were each other's lifelines in a way, they didn't go a day without speaking to each other.

They both hoped that these future 4 years, weren’t going to change their feelings of each other.

✩

Lately you've been busy, wondering if you miss me

Why did you go against me? I just wanna know

How come you act so different? Talk to me, I'll listen

All the love I'm giving, don't act like you don't know

“…leave a message after the tone” y/n sighed as she hung up the phone. It was 7am and her alarm had just gone off, Paige was most likely asleep. It’s 1am at Storrs.

If you put the time difference aside, they were doing well. Both of them spent at least 2 hours everyday on the phone and haven’t had an any problems yet.

But it’s only been 5 months. 7 months and 3 years to go.

Y/n was glad Paige settled in great, she got along with her teammates and had a great support system there. Paige became a media star, with that came many fans. While y/n wasn’t the jealous type, these fans were wild.

She opened her instagram app, and slowly started to scroll through stories. When she stopped, went stiff. “Oh” she muttered, her girlfriend’s teammate, Aaliyah, had posted a story with the Uconn women’s basketball team having fun ,at what she would guess, a bar. Paige is in the background , a girl sitting next to her, whiles shes on the phone. Y/n quickly checked when the story was posted,10minutes ago.

‘Okay so she could’ve just posted this when she came home’ y/n quickly assured herself. Paige wouldn’t just ignore her calls, especially on a night out, right?

As those thoughts filled her head, a notification sound came from her phone.

pb 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽

gm baby. can’t talk, tired, going to bed.

y/n didn’t think anything, she couldn’t. She just typed ‘sweet dreams💗’ and hit send.

no i love you, no ily, not even an emoji.

‘Stop, don’t overthink this ,shes just tired’ she told herself. She shut her phone off and got out of bed, leaving her thoughts about P in her comfy bed.

It had been a month since the bar incident, and everything seemed normal, until a week ago.

Y/n just got out of work, a small intern job to help her graduate early. It was 6pm in Milan, and 12 in Storrs.On her way home, y/n called P.

The phone rang, 1,2,3 times before she hung up. Tried a gain, 1,2,3. User is busy.Paige had hung up on her, she didn’t think much of it. ‘She’s probs busy’.

That was 6 days ago.

While they exchange texts, no calls were made this week. Paige was busy, like really busy, But not busy ‘not go out with her friends for the 3rd time this week’ busy. Y/n got it, freshman year, new teammates, she had to have fun. She also knew that their relationship was on the down low. Even though she assured Paige that it was okay to tell her teammates, P reluctantly agreed. ‘I don’t know, i’ll see’ She muttered to y/n, 2 weeks ago on their normal facetime call.

Y/n didn’t want to think much of it, she didn’t want her overthinking to brew a fight. The last 2 years she was back home, her and paige had never gone a day without speaking to each other, but so what it stopped now?, it was common sometimes to not call. So she let it be, but Paiges text became more and more rare,more dry and definitely more weird.

But y/n knew, paige was just busy.

✩

Girl you always catch me at the bad time (Bad time) When I know you probably think it's a lie (A lie) I know I told you last time was the last time (Last time) How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

On the other end of the phone. Y/n hit the red button, and ended the call. She hit her head on the wall behind her in frustration, thankful that the call wasn’t on facetime and Paige could see her sad face.

Y/n had called in sick at work so she could watch Paiges game in peace, her boss gave her an earful, because it was one of the more busier seasons in the fashion world, but she let her be ‘sick in bed’. She was proud of Paige, and was the happiest for her.

But the mood drifted when she heard the voice tell her they need her. ‘I need her too’ Y/n thought. This was the first time in a month that Y/n heard Paiges voice. Her heart clenched when she heard her sound weird, it sounded like she was frustrated. Frustrated with who though, with y/n?.

As time went quick, it felt like Paiges texts were more rare, and even more dry. And Y/n didn’t know if Paige was aware of the way she was acting, she also didn’t know if she should say anything, Paige was a freshman in college having fun, alone,without Y/n next to her.

If Y/n were to say anything, she didn’t want to seem like the bitchy jealous girlfriend that only wanted Paige to spend time with her, she just wanted Paige to spend some time with her.

It felt like their relationship was a bomb, and their time was running out quickly.

How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline? (Flatline) Cause when I hit you, you don't even reply (Reply) How could you pull the plug and leave me flatline?

✩

Not breathing, what is it I'm not seeing Said she's leaving, damn I can't believe it It's like my heart's bleeding knowing that you don't need me Shut my heart down, now I don't know what Imma do now

“… i just need some space y/n” Paige said with frustration, a sigh coming after. Y/n’s heart dropped.

It all started an hour and a half ago.

Paige went out with her teammates after a late night practice, forgetting that y/n was waiting on her phone call that she promised she would do after practice.

After she came home, she was bombarded with messages from Y/n. 8 to be exact.

y/n💍

hey did you finish practice?

- 8:15PM

you ready?

- 8:18PM

paige?

- 8:20PM

paigeeeeeeee???

- 8:30PM

pbabyyyy

- 8:35PM

pls tell me u didn’t forget

- 8:45PM

paige are you fucking kidding me

- 9:45PM

it’s our anniversary

- 9:45PM

call me when you get home and make sure you’re not busy

- 9:50PM

And when she called, the yelling happened. It was the first fight they’ve had in a while. While Y/n finally exploded demanding to know what’s happening with her, Paige only had one thing to say.

“I think we should take a break”

“What?” Y/n whispered after a long pause.

“i’m not ready to be in a relationship Y/n/n, i’m still questioning what i want, and i don’t know if its you yet.” Paige said. “I’m sorry, i just need some space Y/n”

Y/n heart dropped, she didn’t know what to say or think. While Y/n knew that not everything lasted, Paige was a sure thing. Paige was her lifeline. What was she going to do?.

Y/n gulped and said the only thing she knew she could say “It’s okay”.

‘It’s okay?’ Paige was taken back. Had Y/n want to breakup before?, and then Paige shockingly felt hurt in her chest, her stomach slightly dropped. Why was she feeling like this? why isn’t she feeling relief?. This has been on Paiges mind for the past 3 months, wasn’t this the solution?

“Go be a superstar but don’t expect me to wait for you while you figure out what you want to do” Y/n said, her voice sweet. Not even a slight tone of bitterness.

Y/n still wasn’t able to move from her spot on the kitchen counter. Tears were streaming down her face, and before a sob sound could come, she hung up the phone. All Y/n knew was Paige, but know she didn’t even know that.

She had literally left her clueless, without her lifeline. now flatline.

✩

- 5 MONTHS LATER -

Paige stood there, watching from her afar.

“That’s her?” a croatian accent asked. She felt Nika sit beside her. “Yeah” Paige answered still in awe of her.

“She’s really pretty” Nika said. Paige nodded agreeing with her. She was wearing a flowy white short summer dress with cowboy boots.

It was Drews birthday today, and as the team had some off time, Drew invited them to his barbecue party. And the weekend before his birthday, he ran into Y/n. Of course the boy was oblivious to the breakup and while he asked still asked Paige for Y/n, she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they broke up.

So when Drew begged Y/n to come to his birthday party, Y/n didn’t know what else to say but yes. He could literally get whatever he wanted out of everyone.

At first, Y/n debated if she should just call Paiges stepmom and cancel, or she should just go and pray that Paige couldn’t make it.

Well, Paige had come. And so did the rest of the huskies. When Y/n saw them, she sighed. Although she was friends with Azzi, she didn’t know the rest of them, but by the look on their faces when she came in, she knew that Paige had told them her history.

Azzi, being the sweetheart she is, excitedly came running to Y/n and hugging her tight. The whole party they caught up with each other, with Azzi telling her about Uconn and Y/n telling her about studying abroad. For the past 30 minutes they’ve been talking, not once have either of them mentioned Paige.

Y/n turned, meeting Paiges eyes. The two of them made eye contact with each other again. Y/n then heard Azzi laughed, when she snapped her head to look at her friend. She saw a small teasing smile on her face. “Don’t even start” Y/n said, glaring at her. She got up and made her way to the other side of the backyard, where there was no Paige in sight.

“Y/n/n” she heard a child scream. Drew was suddenly hugging her legs. “Hi Drewsky” she laughed, beginning to tickle him. She felt the boy starting to laugh, and start to kick her hands away, while Paige and her were together, Drew became a big part in their relationship. Paiges parents often made Paige babysit Drew, and Y/n just tagged along. Through that time, Drew and Y/n became close, Y/n considered him as a baby brother. She would miss him.

“Paigeyy help me” Drew screamed laughing. Y/n became stiff, the hair behind her neck stood. She could feel her ex behind her as she let the little boy go and stand up.

Paige and Y/n stared at one another. Paige was thankful her teammates weren’t around right now, they would be on her ass all day after this.

“Hi” Y/n whispered, looking away from her and to the ground.

“Hey” Paige said back. “How’ve you been-“

“Paige please no small talk, what do you want?” Y/n cut her off. This was already awkward enough, no need to make it even more.

“Uh” Paige stuttered, a sigh coming after. “I missed you” Paige admitted. Y/n’s blood boiled, now she missed me?

Paige could sense Y/n anger, she placed a hand on Y/n elbow, tugging her from leaving. “Please just wait” Paige pleaded “I’m sorry, i just didn’t know what to do i kept having all of this kind of feelings and i know i was busy but i swear just one more chance-“

“Paige” y/n cut her off

“- and i’ll promise i’ll try harder-“ paige continued

“-stop-“ she tried to stop her

“please just give me one more chance”

“-okay” she agreed. Paiges eyes went wide, she didn’t think she would get her to agree that easy.

“I only needed you to apologize P, i only want you to make some time for me thats all. And if were really trying this again you have to be sure you want this because i don’t know if i can handle loosing you again” She said still looking at the ground.

Paiges heart dropped hearing her voice break. Although she knew how Y/n felt, Paige had been nothing but moody,grumpy and miserable these past few months. Seeing Y/n today, brought her hope that she had a second shot with her.

Y/n slowly picked up her head, and looked up at Paige. Paige was jaw dropping hot, and she knew that, her head couldn’t get any bigger by her ego.

Paige reached a hand towards her waist, pulling Y/n towards her. When she did, she slowly dropped a sweet kiss on her girlfriends lips, when she pulled away, her forehead dropped to Y/n’s.

She felt like she could finally breathe, her chest no longer hurt. She had her lifeline back.

✩

#Spotify #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers imagine #huskies #uconn #nika muhl #azzi fudd #aaliyah edwards #paige bueckers headcannons #wnba #lesbian #dua writes

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wileys-russo · 10 months ago

Note

hi! laura freigang, 'can i use a picture of you as my phone's background?', locker room please?

lockscreen II l.freigang

you woke up to a flash in your face, ducking your head beneath the covers with a groan. "go away lau!" you moaned kicking out at your best friend who only grinned, tugging the covers away from you.

"it was for the collection!" laura explained as if that was completely normal as you tiredly glared up at her. "get out of my room, its not even eight yet!" you realised with a groan, shoving her a little harder than intended as she went rolling backwards off the bed.

you sat up with a start, covering your grin with your hand as the blonde moaned clutching her head which had collided with the carpet.

"sorry?" you tried with an innocent smile as she sat up and fixed you with a venomous glare. "idiot!" she huffed unappreciative of your efforts. "in my defense i have warned you before about not waking me before nine unless its an emergency." you reminded with a shrug.

"i was waking you because i made breakfast but now i think i will go give it to that cranky lady next door, she would be more appreciative!" the blonde grumbled standing to her feet with a shake of her head, stretching out her back.

"no no, no need! thank you." you shot up from bed, kissing her cheek in thanks before racing off toward the kitchen too fast to see the way the girls face burned beetroot red at the tiny gesture of affection.

laura had been pining over you for months now, and it was painful that it was obvious to absolutely everyone but you, even her teammates teasings only causing you to roll your eyes and dismiss them with a wave when they joked you were secretly dating.

laura could only wish to be so lucky, and only wish you'd finally see that all the little things she did for you was because she was crushing on you hard.

ever since you'd moved to the club the girl felt her knees wobble a little when you were introduced to the team, the first to put her hand up to show you around and within a couple of weeks the two of you were thick as thieves and laura had offered you her spare room while you hunted for a place of your own.

it was an offer which beat the pull out sofa you were currently sleeping on in an old school friends one bedroom loft who'd moved to germany for university and just never come back.

you'd be lying if you said without laura you'd have lost your mind and probably quit to move back home. she helped you set up everything, get better at the language, offered friendship and a comfortable bed beneath your back, cooked everyday for you and showed you around new places each weekend between matches.

you hadn't realized it just yet but you were also crushing hard on the blonde, only you'd grown up with four older brothers and attributed nearly every strong feeling you had toward a woman as just a longing for friendship.

it was idiotic how blind you were really.

"so." you looked up from your spot at your cubby, training finished for the day as you were icing your ankle you'd rolled, most of the team having already left for the day laura was kindly waiting around until the physio came back to check you over, currently in a meeting.

"as you know i've been making my phone look nicer." laura started as you chuckled, amused by her sudden interest in aesthetics which was spurred on by a late night tiktok doom scroll as you lay together 'hanging out' in complete silence in her room the other night.

"i found a lockscreen-" she turned to show you a photo she'd taken at the markets on one of her film cameras, smiling at the familiar setting. "-but, can i use a photo of you as my phone background?" she asked hopefully as you groaned.

"what!" she huffed, a little offended by your reaction. "not if its one of those awful pictures you always take of me sleeping, or eating, or at that gross zoomed out angle but super close and-" you started to protest making her frown switch to a grin.

"no schatz, not a bad photo." she patted your knee reassuringly, sliding closer to you as your head fell to her shoulder, missing the way she tensed up a little, clearing her throat.

"i have nice ones. i will even let you choose!" laura promised as you hummed and she clicked into her camera roll, selecting an album with a little sun emoji.

"see? look these are all candid ones of you. at the farmers market, out at dinner, cooking at home, when we went to ikea, when we went to the night festival, getting coffee-" as she scrolled slowly through, something suddenly clicked in your mind.

in nearly all of these you and laura had been hanging out, but always just the two of you. you took turns paying for things, you were always laughing, she was always surprising you with little adventures or taking you to new places and forcing you out of your comfort zone.

but it was always just with laura, and then it clicked for you, it was laura, you loved laura.

the girl was too busy recounting the story behind one of the hundreds of photos in the album with a soft smile on her face to notice you pull your head away to look at her, finally seeing the slight blush on her cheeks and not missing the twinkle in her eye.

so maybe, just maybe, laura loved you too.

"lau." you interrupted, cutting her off mid sentence as she looked up and caught your eye, blush intensifying as she did. "was i rambling? oh god i was rambling wasn't i? i told you when that happens to snap me out of it or tell me to shut up or-" she started again making you smile.

"lau?" "yeah?" "shut up." you grinned as she did too, tips of her ears flushed pink which you found quite cute, suddenly now noticing a lot of little features you'd taken for granted.

"do you trust me?" you asked softly and the blonde nodded without a moments hesitation, but in her most wild of dreams she'd never expected what came next as your hand moved to settle on the back of her neck and you leaned in until you were barely a hairsbreadth away.

"is this okay?" you whispered, checking one last time as all the german could do was nod, dumbfounded and unsure if this was actually happening until you leaned in just that tiny bit further and pressed your lips to hers.

this was really happening, and as laura dropped her phone into her lap, tugging you even closer and kissing you back like you were her last breath of air, you realised that yeah, your laura did love you back, and this was the start of a brand new adventure together.

#woso community #woso #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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mywritersmind · 3 months ago

Text

DOOMED FOR ONE ANOTHER - LN4

summary : Forced to never forget. He loved her, she loved him. It seemed easy but the moment those words met the cool air, everything changed. They had the type of love that wasn’t in story books about romance, it was the type that was in horror stories.

listen up : crazy moody today ig. hope u like bc it’s actually interesting and deep for once. dual pov!!

word count : 2040

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The first time they met, he saw her sitting at the bar.

She was alone, in a cocktail dress with her legs crossed, sipping on a martini. There was a faux fur coat hanging over her chair. She wasn’t on her phone, or listening to music, she was just sitting with the world around her.

Lando Norris was well acquainted with the female species. He’s met pretty woman, he’s dated pretty women, he’s fucked pretty women.

She wasn’t just a pretty woman.

“I’m Lando.” She didn’t shake his hand, didn’t smile or giggle… she just nodded.

“I know who you are.” She brought the martini to her lips again and Lando felt his mouth open a bit, “Do you know who I am?”

He slipped into the seat next to her, “No. Should I?”

Then it happened, the corners of her perfectly lush lips tugged upward. “Nope.”

And thus started a beautiful friendship. Yes, I say friendship because neither of them expected to fall in love with each other. Even if everyone seemed to hope they would.

⋆༺

Her apartment was a mess like usual. I pushed open the door with two coffees in my hand, house keys, and the purse she made me bring all the way from Monaco to New York.

I managed to get to her room without stepping on any of her loose clothes, books, or instruments. She was lying on her bed, her head hanging off the side and her hands lazily strumming her guitar.

She was wearing a pink nightgown that scrunched up on her thighs, a faux fur coat, and headphones. Her head finally tilted back far enough to see me standing there, staring at her.

I used to worry about her a lot because of her reaction time and how she never realized I was staring. Yet I stopped thinking about it after it allowed me to watch her before we would hang out.

That sounds creepy, I know. But just like the first time I met her, I could get a read on her body language or emotions, I would look at her outfit and how much jewelry she would be wearing, I would just look at her for one quiet moment.

“Lan!” She screamed far too loud and stood up at lightning speed, hugging me. “My angel, you’re back!” She grabbed the coffee she knew was hers from my hands and spun around, hopping back onto her bed and sitting on her feet.

I pushed the clothes off her chair and sat on it, “Someone came up to me and asked if I was your friend today.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee, “One day, we’re going to be walking around and people will swarm around you and ask who the idiot next to you is.”

She sighed, sipping her coffee, “And I’d tell them that if they’re true fans, they’d know who my best friend is.” She leaned back on her pillows and stuffed animals.

“Right!” I let out a laugh, “You would definitely say I'm some freak following you.”

Her eyes got serious for a second, “I’d never pretend to not know you, Lando.”

I shook my head, “How’s the writing coming along?”

“If you’ve come here just to bug me about my music, then I will kick you back onto the streets.” She’s a musician.

I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know her… but she had just put out her debut album and I had just officially become an F1 driver.

She claimed she wasn’t a fan of the sport, yet would text me non stop about ‘gossip’ she heard from her ‘credible’ sources. Her sources were F1 twitter.

She let me listen to her music, humming along to the songs without lyrics and singing without any instrument to the songs without background music.

I don’t remember when I fell in love with her. It wasn’t a specific time or place, I just sort of knew one day.

⋆༺

I always loved him in a suit.

I liked his hair and the way the curls just fit with something so neat and tailored to him. Lando looked bored, an expression I didn’t see on his face a lot when he was with me.

But that day and that banquet… it was so slow and I was so off my usual game. I had secrets and Lando could tell. I thought he was going to confront me about them when he brought me outside.

“Lan, there’s a speaker!” I whispered to him as he took my hand.

“When have you ever cared about shit like that? Come on.” His hand was cold, I remember that. I actually remember everything from that night.

We slipped out the back door and he started laughing. I didn’t know why, but I also didn’t ask a lot of questions.

The banquet was in a stuffy hall, but the back garden was beautiful and miles long. I laughed with him, hurrying down the steps as fast as I could in my heels.

He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. “I couldn’t breathe in there.” He runs a hand through his curls, tilting his head back so his Adam's apple is more pronounced and his eyes are looking to the sky.

“Wanna get out of here?” I asked because I was getting cold and could tell he needed a change of scenery.

That’s when I noticed a difference. The way he looked at me just then, it was like everything I had dreaded came true in one singular moment. “No.” He had said it quietly but I felt like he had a megaphone. “I need to talk to you.”

“Lando…” I said his full name that time because I wanted him to know that for once in my life, I was being serious. I was warning him.

“I love you.” He was breathless and I'll never forget the look on his face. It was almost as heartbreaking as the look he gave me five seconds later, when I didn’t respond.

I loved him, of course I had.

But I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for a relationship or for him. I wasn’t ready for everything to change or for him to suddenly start kissing me instead of hugging.

I wasn’t ready to be loved.

“Please…” He was holding my hands now, “I can’t not love you. I know you love me too.” That made me feel nauseous.

How could he know?

I kept everything close to me and had never tried to kiss him, I never even joked about it!

“I can’t…” Is all I said before pulling my hands away.

His face turned sullen, his arms limp at his sides, “You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not!” I didn’t mean to say it as defensively as I did.

“Bullshit.” Lando never raised his voice at me, but he did then.

“You don’t get to tell me my feelings!” I stepped farther away, ignoring every instinct to get closer.

His eyes were piercing me, “Tell me you don’t then.”

I was shaking my head as he begged, “Tell me you don’t love me! Say it to my face.” I couldn’t say anything, and he knew me too well because of it. “Break my heart, then. Do it.”

“Lan…”

“Don’t ‘Lan’ me!” He stepped closer, his hands going to my arms again, “Fucking break me or never talk to me again! I can’t pretend I don’t love you and I know you can’t stay friends with me when you know that I do.”

His voice broke and my tears started. Lando Norris knew every part of me. He watched my facial expressions, my body language. He watched me get dressed and he watched me break a million guys' hearts.

He watched me loudly do what I love but that was always music, and never him.

That’s why I had to walk away. It’s why I couldn’t admit loving him. It’s why I cut all contact, It’s why I hated myself. It’s why I pretended I didn’t know him, even though he haunted everything in my life.

⋆༺

I love my friends. But I think I'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

Carlos forced me to come to his girlfriend's party. Rebecca is nice and all but as I watch Franco get surrounded by models and Charles whispering in Alexandra’s ear, I’m seriously regretting saying yes.

I’m in a suit and zoning out with champagne in my hand, leaning against the bar as the noise around me gets louder.

“Lando!” I already know it’s Carlos, glancing back to see him hurrying over to me, “Lando!”

“What?” I ask, tired and wishing I was more drunk.

“Rebecca has a girl for you!” my immediate instinct is to run but he slaps his hand onto my shoulder and grips it tightly, “Hey! You’ll love her! She’s a musician and very pretty!”

I groan, “Carlos, no.”

“Mate, come on! You never date and I think you’ll actually love her!” He’s right. I don’t date. I have sex, I hook up, I have benefits but no friends. “It’ll be good for you.” And for a second, I believe him.

Maybe it would be good for me. It’s been over a year since my heart was ripped apart and stomped on by a type b, adhd, singer.

“Just meet her.” He says and I hesitate before shrugging, “Yes! Oh, here they come!”

I stand up straight and sip my champagne, hoping the alcohol will hit me fast. The moment I turn, The moment Rebecca smiles and starts to speak, I can’t breathe.

“Lando this is-” I don’t need to keep listening to know. She’s right there. In front of me.

The girl who ripped my heart out is right there, wearing the same shoes she stomped on it with. I’m not prepared for this, for her. Her face tells me she feels the same way but is far more calm than I am.

When she holds out her hand for me to shake, I feel sick. I shake it, not saying anything. She looks the same… but different.

Her hair is longer and her makeup is done differently. She’s wearing barely any jewelry but I can smell her perfume and I just know it’s the same one I got for her at some corner stone in brooklyn.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” She sounds strong. She sounds like she’s lying, but maybe that’s because she is.

“I wish I could say the same about you.” No one else would be able to tell, but after years of examining her, I don’t miss the way her mouth quirks. I say it because I would never pretend to not know her, no matter how hard it was to make eye contact with her today.

I know Carlos is horrified, “Norris!”

But I don’t care.

For once, I didn’t see her coming. I didn’t get to have that moment of peace where I could revel in her.

I avoided her, mostly. We never ran in the same circle… except for now, I guess… but I saw friends of friends posting about her concerts or new music. I saw her on Dominic Fikes album and I saw her kissing his cheek two days after that.

I heard the rumors and the second that one of the guys called her pretty, I clocked out.

I never saw her in person though. I would be paranoid every time I was at a music festival or even saw someone wearing close to the same faux fur jackets she adored. But I haven’t seen her for over a year, until now.

Rebecca looks uncomfortable and Carlos looks straight up scared. I’m lucky that they get pulled away but I'm unlucky that she gets closer to me. She used to tease me the same way she’s looking at me now.

I expect her to say something profound, maybe even an apology. But then I remember who she is. That Cheshire-like smile greets her lips again as her thick lashes blink, “I’ve always loved you in a suit.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x singer reader #lando norris angst

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erodasfishtacos · 11 months ago

Text

The Stranger & The Thief (roommate!abo)

prompt: YN needs a roommate but has never been around alphas. Harry is the alpha her parents warned her about.

word count: 9.6k+

author’s note: hii guys. enjoy there is currently six more parts up of this series on my patreon which you can join for $3USD!

+++++++++++++++

YN didn’t mind alphas.

Not at all.

YN had grown up in a solely beta household which meant out of all of her family, she was the only omega.

It was difficult growing up, trying to figure out all the intricacies of her secondary gender when her family had no idea what any of it was or what it meant.

Heat was something that had been tortuous to figure out because she did that completely on her own.

All her parents could do was put food and water outside the locked bedroom door periodically as the heat, the pain, the agony persisted for at least five days before she started to feel relief.

A depression always followed for another week.

Then anxiety would start to consistently hurt her chest in the week leading up to her heat because her body is dreading the impending doom, of being dragged through the cycle with nothing that seemed to soothe the ache for her.

YN logically knew the solution would be an alpha, an alpha would be able to solve the problems that she was able to figure out on her own, in the privacy of her bedroom.

However, she grew up in a community that was mostly consisting of betas and omegas, there were a few alphas but none that would have been an option for YN.

Alphas intimidated her.

They were aggressive, demanding, dominant whereas she grew up around betas and omegas who were nurturing, empathic, patient.

It was two different worlds and though her parents did not speak down on alphas, that had made it clear that they felt like YN should settle for a nice beta.

YN never thought anything of it.

She did not crave an alpha.

Well…only during her heats but outside of that, there was no desire to mate with one.

All of her partners up until this point had been betas, that had been just fine for her, none of them were too serious.

The closest she got to a serious relationship was Tate, a gentle beta who was nice, thoughtful, and everything YN thought that she wanted in a partner.

It had been going strong for a few months when her heat had hit.

Tate had come over to offer assistance like they had previously discussed but it had not worked out well at all.

YN was embarrassed, she knew she had to face her boyfriend sooner or later, and she put it off for two more days after her heat.

They met at the coffee shop that was an even distance between their apartments.

Tate’s demeanor was off from the minute he sat down, he refused to look at YN directly in the eye, and he didn’t reach out to hold her hand across the table like he normally did anytime that they were out together.

He was the one who spoke first, “This isn’t going to work out.”

YN’s eyes widen in utter disbelief, things had been going so well up until her heat, “Tate, you cannot be serious. I…I’m sorry I acted that way but I did not know that was how I was going to react! We…I won’t ask you to help me out again but we don’t have to break up over it.”

Tate laughs without any humor, “I truly never thought you were a knot-snob.”

YN tenses at the derogatory term, it felt venomous coming out of his mouth, “Why would you say that? I’ve never even been interested in an alpha!”

He shakes his head, lips curling upwards in the slightest, “Really? Because I came over to help you, brought groceries, other things to help take care of you, and when I walked into the bedroom, you growled at me like you were feral.”

YN swallows harshly, she remembers, very vaguely and almost through a fog but she knows what he is saying is truthful.

“You demanded I leave because I was a ‘poor excuse of a man’ because I was a beta,” Tate’s anger cracks into something more devastated which made her feel awful because that was never her intention to hurt him, she would never purposely do that, “You said that I must be delusional to think I could satisfy you. Only an alpha could.”

YN knows there’s tears brimming at her eyes, she was aware of how nasty she had been to him, didn’t fully remember everything she had said but she did believe him about what he was repeating because it’s what went through her mind.

She remembers feeling disgust at seeing him, none of that love she normally has for him was present in her mind at the time, just pure anger that a beta thought that they could please her.

“We just don’t have to spend my heat together, Tate,” YN tries, she truly liked him, loved him as a friend, and saw potential in loving him as a partner.

Tate scoffs, self-deprecating as he finally meets her eye, “I will never be enough for you, YN. I know you weren’t in your right headspace when I came over but your nature made it very clear that you would never be satisfied in our relationship.”

He takes a deep breath, “You…You were a whole different person when I came to you. I thought omegas were supposed to be sweet, pliant, and gentle during their heats. You were agitated, aggressive, and hostile in a way that truly frightened me.”

“Tate, please,” YN reaches for his hand but he retracts it instinctually back onto his lap.

“I…I am not doing this because I want it to be like this. I saw a future with you, truly, I did. I…I really think that you should be with an alpha because it’d be unfair for you and the beta if you continue to date them,” Tate sighs as he gathers his coat, he does have that same gentleness when he gives her a soft smile, “I do wish you the best of luck, YN.”

YN had curled in on herself after that, tucked away into a shell, and has been in there ever since.

It’s been about six month since she’d broken up with Tate and she had made the mistake of asking another beta for help during her heat, it was friend who knew what they were in for but she just had to really make sure that it was unsafe for her to be with a beta before she ruled them out of her dating life.

YN was only on the precipice of her heat, hoping that if the beta came while she was still more cognizant that it would go more smoothly.

That turned out to be an absolute mistake.

Trevor was coming with the idea that he may need to leave within a few minutes of being there or he could be staying for the length of her heat depending on how it would go.

She had given him the key to get into her apartment so that he didn’t have to wait around for her to answer the door.

YN unfortunately remembers the events that transpire but even though she was aware during their interaction, she felt out of control of her body as she typically did in heat where she couldn’t stop herself from reacting as her wolf mind wanted her to.

“YN? Are you alright? I’m here,” Trevor calls out, smiling when YN appears in the small hallway of the apartment, “Oh hey, sorry I was late but there was a line at the store -”

YN’s eyes are wild, unfocused, and her hair is already messy from rolling around in her nest that she had spent time meticulously building as she started to fall into her heat, “Get the fuck out.”

“YN, listen we talked about -” Trevor begins easily, undeterred at first by her words.

“What? Do you think that you’re going to help me through this heat?” YN laughs meanly, shaking her head with a sharp, cruel smile, “I can smell you. What a weak fucking scent. A beta comes into my home like they can satisfy my heat. You are a joke to think you could give me what an alpha could.”

Trevor swallowed harshly, trying not to let the words hurt his feelings, his masculinity, the security he typically felt in his secondary gender but YN’s words were meant to gnaw at his insides, make him question himself.

“YN,” Trevor replies firmer, standing a bit straighter despite his hands trembling.

“Beta,” She replies but it rolls off her tongue like an insult, “You are nothing to me. You think I would want pups from a weak fucking beta? I’d rather never have a knot in my life than the little you have to offer me. You will never be my alpha.”

Trevor has to bite back the insulting name he would want to call her, knowing that that wouldn’t be helpful but also that him being here was not going to be helpful nor did he want to stay because he was worried she was about to rip his throat out.

He shakes his head, a sour taste in his mouth at the rejection of the omega, he had already been insecure in comparison to the alphas around him.

However, he had a crush on YN, he was stupid for thinking that she would magically be okay with him supporting her through her heat, and now he was realizing that was an absolute mistake because he felt worse than he ever as has before.

In the moment, that was her goal to make him feel that he was less than and she had succeeded.

“I’m just going to leave,” Trevor tells her as he turns towards the door, his bottom lip was quivering as he hangs his head, trying desperately to rationalize this, this wasn’t the kind, sweet, YN that he normally knew, this was feral at best.

“Good,” YN coos as she stands defensively in the door, her eyes were darker than Trevor had ever seen them and the smile on her face wasn’t one that relayed friendliness, it was like she was about to downright murder him.

Trevor has never moved so fast in his life.

YN was lucid enough during that to understand why Trevor avoided her like the plague after that, never returning her texts, and the one time she ran into him at the gas station, well he acted like he’d never seen her a day in his life.

She held no blame or ill-will, the things she said were nasty, cruel, and unlike her normal character but it wasn’t an excuse.

YN sent him a few long messages detailing how sorry she was, how she regretted putting him in that situation because she valued him as a friend but they all got left on read.

After that, she stopped trying to find anyone to help her with her heat.

She deleted her dating apps and pushed off the idea of finding someone else.

YN also went to the doctor for her erratic behavior during these times.

“Heat-Induced Aggression and Rage Disorder,” The doctor had told her simply, unphased by her explanation of her symptoms, “Most omegas can spend their cycle with any secondary gender, even other omegas. However, the disorder occurs when an omega requires an alpha and will become aggressive when a beta or an omega attempts to help.”

“How do I solve it?” YN asks desperately, this meant that she would never be able to spend her heat with someone and she couldn’t possibly imagine actually being with an alpha, she’d never been around one, really.

YN, of course, came in contact with alphas on the day-to-day, it wasn’t like they were rare.

It was that she didn’t have any friends, coworkers, or connections to alphas because she was in such a densely populated beta area before moving to the city after she graduated college.

“You need to find an alpha who’s willing to spend your heats with you or continue to spend you heats alone,” The doctor shrugs without any better explanation, “Unless you wish to take medication to completely stop your cycle but that has major medical risks that I would advise against, especially if you ever wish to have children.”

That’s where YN is at, with a disorder that doesn’t have a treatment that sounds remotely reasonable to her.

Searching whether in person or online for an alpha partner was extremely unsafe which meant that she had resorted to the fact that she would forever spend her heats alone, in pain.

It made her jealous when her omega friends bragged about how enjoyable, how blissful their heats were spent with their partners.

YN wishes she loved hers but instead, she finds herself thinking death sounds more pleasurable than forever spending five days locked in her bedroom by herself, a slave to her own nature with no help from anyone.

++ a year later ++

YN was going to pull her hair out, it was official because why was it so hard to find someone who appeared somewhat normal to fill the empty bedroom in her apartment?

For the last three years, YN had lived in peaceful harmony with her beta friend, Eileen.

Eileen had started dating her girlfriend, Regina, right after they moved in together.

Two weeks ago, Eileen had let YN know that she was moving out and in with Regina after their recent engagement which meant that she no longer had any income to help her with the rent nor the utilities in less than a month.

YN could technically afford everything on her own, the lease was in her name but it made money tight enough that she had to budget down to the dollar which she despised doing - it was much more manageable when she had someone splitting the bills with her.

And because she would rather not have to cut back on her frivolous spending like her unreasonable expensive smoothies and sure, maybe everytime she sees a pair of socks that look exceptionally comfy she feels the need to buy them.

However, after a third interview with a potential flatmate, YN thought that this may be an impossible task and she should already start her budgeting because there had been issues with all three interviewees.

The first, beta, needed the bathroom from six to nine pm with no explanation as to why.

The second, an omega, stated that she would need to be able to conduct an in-person yoga lesson with six people every other day in their living room.

The third, another beta, demanded that they split the fridge storage fifty-fifty because their last roommate put milk on their shelf of the fridge which they defined as a ‘personal attack’ because they were vegan.

So hopeless is where she found herself after that third beta.

That’s where Niall comes in, her lovely lovely beta friend who sometimes she worries has rocks for brain and other times he’s absolutely the most brilliant being to ever walk the earth, it just honestly depends on the day.

However, she could kiss him when he arrives at her apartment with a bag of chinese takeout and something to solve all of her issues completely, “I have a mate from work who needs a place. He makes good money so I know he’d have no issue paying his part. He’s cool, I trust him enough to recommend him, I’ve worked with him for like six years.”

YN barely even hesitated, she trusted Niall enough to know that he wouldn’t have offered the solution if he didn’t think that it was a good option for her.

He does get sheepish halfway through, “I…I did forget to mention that he’s an alpha.”

YN pauses at that, narrowing her eyes at him because he definitely left that part out in the initial description.

“Niall-” YN begins to huff because it’s not that she totally objected but it was something for her to consider and he had just left that out.

“I know, I know,” Niall puts his hands up, “He’s cool though. He really keeps to himself. I know you’ve never been around alphas, let alone live with one but I really think it would be fine. Don’t you trust me? Plus, he really needs a place to stay.”

YN really should give it more thought.

“He just texted and said he’d be willing to pay three thirds of the rent,” Niall tells her as he looks down at his phone, “If he can move in as soon as possible. Plus he’ll cover internet and electric.”

YN really really should think on it.

She’d never been around an alpha, let alone lived with one, she needs to think about it, weigh the pros and cons.

“Tell him he can move in on Friday,” YN finds herself saying and before she can think better of it, Niall is quickly typing away on his phone and the text alert goes off.

“He said that works for him,” Niall gives her an oblivious thumbs up before picking back up his container of rice and clicking the movie back on like he didn’t just wheel and deal the quickest decision she’s ever made in her life.

She didn’t even ask his name.

YN typically isn’t this dumb.

She actually prided herself on her impulse control and rational thinking but as she flutters around the apartment on Friday evening, trying to make it as spotless as possible for her new flatmate, she really starts to question her own sanity.

YN realizes that she’s going to have to have serious conversations with this alpha about boundaries, what will they do when it comes to their cycles, and the thought that their scents will run rampant because they obviously won’t use neutralizers when they’re at home.

Niall had not given much more information beside the fact that his name was Harry, he was twenty-eight, and had a higher up position in the company than Niall so they didn’t always have much interaction, Niall had actually just overheard a conversation he was having on the phone.

YN finds out that he had lived on his own since college but after his landlord decided he was going to sell the house he was renting, Harry had to find somewhere else quickly, and that resulted in him moving in with a friend from university.

That friend was another alpha, which turned sour very after soon after moving in together.

Niall was a bit hesitant when he told her that the issue was Harry, not the other alpha.

Harry was territorial, more of the pack leader type, and it became apparent within days that Harry simply could not share a space with another virile alpha despite Harry forcing the other alpha to submit to him on multiple occasions, it didn’t matter.

Even though Niall assured her that it wouldn’t be an issue because she was an omega, it didn’t make her feel much better but she has too strong of a conscious to promise a place for Harry to stay to then to pull that away from him.

Of course, Niall, the twat, couldn’t make it over while Harry was moving in because he had to go to a family birthday dinner which meant that it would just be the two of them.

“It will just be time to get to know one another,” Niall chirped easily on the phone, unbothered and oblivious to the tension that was building in YN.

Harry was supposed to be here at six in the evening.

He quite literally knocks on the door at exactly six.

YN hesitates for a moment before opening the door, her heart was beating unusually fast, and when she opens it, it begins to pump even faster.

The man standing in front of her was clearly an alpha without her even knowing this information before hand.

It was interwoven into every aspect of his being, in a way that could be seen physically but on the other hand, it was unspoken, she couldn’t quite describe it but he was exactly what she imagined an alpha to be.

All of him was defined, sharp from his jaw to his nose to his arms.

His shoulders were broad enough that YN wondered if he could even fit through the doorway without squeezing them inward.

He was tall, taller than she had imagined him, and that added with his width and the pure heft of his bulky but lean muscles - he was fucking intimidating and could hurt her without a shadow of a doubt, she’d be defensless.

This is a bad idea.

YN should tell him he can’t move in.

Her parents raised her better than to let a six foot something, very capable alpha in her home to share with her without knowing anything about him.

The fact of the matter was, he did not even look friendly.

Some alphas were like golden retrievers, easy going and a bit airheaded.

Harry was the stark opposite end of that.

The type of alpha that people avoid because of how dangerous they can be.

If YN was walking down the sidewalk and he was walking towards her, she would without a doubt cross the road to avoid bumping into him but yet, she was welcoming him into her house and something within her felt like this was a good idea.

Her inner omega that is.

Who we all know craves an alpha like water and air.

She pushes that down, as much as possible when she notices how big his hands are and how they would look holding her hips -

He has a frown on his face, the light wrinkles it causes shows YN that he has that expression quite often as he looks at her with a mixture of boredom and exasperation, he should be so fucking friendly because of how much YN is overextending to help him.

He isn’t.

After a moment, YN realizes she’d been staring at him dumbly and has yet to introduce herself.

“YN?” Harry finally asks and his voice is deep, only like an alpha’s can be, no beta could even imitate the vibrato of that tone.

“Yeah, uh, come in?” YN’s voice is higher pitched than she’d prefer as she steps aside, her greeting coming out much more like a question than a statement.

Harry blinks dully at her, a backpack over his shoulder and a few boxes next to his feet, “If you do not want me to come in, just say it. If me being an alpha or a guy is too much, tell me now before I move all my fuckin’ stuff in. I don’t like playing these back and forth games.”

YN is startled by his attitude, she can’t recall a time when anyone has ever talked to her so bluntly or without politeness which again, inherently an alpha thing but it still had her off kilter a bit as his face doesn’t change.

“No, sorry, yeah. You can bring your stuff in, I haven’t changed my mind,” YN steps further back into the apartment, spreading her arms, “This is it. Sorry, I know it isn’t much but I guess a roof over your head is better than nothing.”

Harry doesn’t even bother to look around, doesn’t compliment the comfy furniture or the cute little decorations, “It’s fine. Where’s my room?”

YN knows her smile falls when she realizes this is going exceptionally worse than she had already been dreading, which means that she leads him around the apartment, showing him the bathroom, laundry, linen closet, and then to his room as he remains completely silent.

When he goes to begin to bring his few boxes in, YN moves to pick one up to help but he stops her abruptly, voice firm and demanding, “No. Put that down.”

YN’s eyebrows shoot into her hairline, “Sorry!” She apologizes for the millionth time in less than thirty minutes, “I was just trying to be helpful.”

Harry snarls his lip in the slightest, “Am I the alpha or are you?”

YN’s swallows harshly, voice small, “You are.”

“Right. I am the alpha, I will move the heavy boxes, I will unpack. It is my job, not yours,” Harry tells her as he brushes past her to deposit the box into his room before coming out for the next one without anything else to say.

YN should probably stand her ground, set those firm boundaries but she doesn’t, instead she hides out in her room with her cat, Beatrice, (who was also hiding from the unknown visitor) and does not plan to come out until tomorrow morning or until he’s asleep.

But no, when it’s nearly ten at night, YN finally gathers enough courage to knock on his bedroom door to set the house rules, the boundaries because she couldn’t make Harry like her but they could at least be civil.

Or so she thought.

Harry answered the door after a minute, his shirt was off and he was just in a pair of joggers, there was stuff all over his room that he was obviously in the midst of organizing but it also looked worse before everything fit perfectly into place.

“What?” He asks impatiently, like he has a timeframe and YN is disrupting something major.

YN’s mind goes completely blank for a moment because for the first time since he came in, probably because it was night time and his morning scent neutralizers had worn off but she can smell his natural scent for the first time.

It was stronger because he didn’t have anything blocking his glands, his chest was heavily tattooed, and unfairly defined, looking as if he never spent a minute outside of the gym with muscles cut in places YN didn’t even know muscle existed.

His scent was…unlike anything that she had ever smelled in her life.

It was rich, deep, and dark.

It made her dizzy, sleepy, like she could fall into a trance of getting lost in it.

Thick, warm waves of it seemed to short-circuit her mind and make it hard for her to even remember what her purpose was of standing in front of him.

She had never reacted so strongly to scent in her life, never even noticed most of the time what others smelled like but this was seeping into her veins and she couldn’t quite get enough of it as she tried to subtly breathe it in as much as possible.

“What do you want?” Harry reiterates, louder and definitely more annoyed as he crosses his arms.

YN has to blink a few times before she’s shaking her head, “Uh, I just wanted to go over like….house rules? Anything you need from me? Boundaries? How can we operate around each other since we’re going to be living together?”

Harry jaw clenches, his nostrils flared, and he looks appalled.

YN realizes then that he must be able to smell her and by his reaction, he must absolutely hate her scent which made shame and mortification run through her body, of being rejected by this alpha was absolutely confidence crushing.

YN swallows down the whine.

Harry’s eyes trace up to her once, “Here’s the house rules, stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. I’m not looking for a friend. I’m only looking for a place to stay. Understood?”

YN’s mouth is dry, her brain is having a hard time focusing on the harshness of his words because his scent is flashing bright sparkles in her eyesight at the same time, “What about your rut? My heat?”

Harry’s eyes narrow, turning a bit predatory, dangerous for a moment before he’s replying, “I’m sure you have help. If you bring another beta or omega here, that will be fine. I will not bother you. Niall told me you do not typically associate with alphas.”

“Um, okay…That works,” YN lies because she really can’t have another omega or beta here but if she has too, maybe she can try again? Maybe if they come over while she’s not yet in her heat? She’ll have to think about that later, “Your rut?”

“I have it handled,” Harry replies defensively, stepping back and putting his hand on the doorknob, “Just give me a heads up beforehand so that I won’t be blindsided by coming home to the scent change but I will also communicate that with you.”

“Okay, that sounds good-”

The door is shut on her without her even being able to finish her sentence.

“Rude ass fucking alpha,” YN mutters under her breath as she shakes her head, when she plops on her bed, she may or may not scream into her pillow for a moment because she just got herself into a worse situation than she could imagine.

But yet it hasn’t once crossed her mind to kick him out.

Why?

She doesn’t have a clue.

YN does not see Harry once during the first two weeks of him living with her.

Not even a glimpse.

And YN would actually wonder if he still even lived here if she wasn’t constantly overwhelmed by his scent.

He must come out of his room once YN is asleep, she does not understand how it is so thick, cloying on every surface of her apartment.

The second you walk in, it hits you, and lets anybody who enters know that an alpha lives here, there would not even be a doubt.

YN vaguely finds herself wondering one night as she sits on her couch whether or not Harry had scent marked the apartment, claiming it as his territory.

She had heard alphas do that, especially when they live with their omega to show that their mate has an alpha who protects them and their home.

However, that’s not the case here, and YN is pretty sure that Harry doesn’t even remotely like her, let alone want to live here so why would he want to claim it?

She rules that out as a possibility, mostly, but when she wakes up in the morning and he had already left for the day, well she can’t help but notice as fucking beautiful her house smells.

YN only gets her heat every six months with the suppressant she’s on but the entire month leading up to it, she finds herself starting to get more rooted in her omega tendencies.

Harry had been living with her for fourish months by this point and nothing had changed since the beginning.

He didn’t use the living room, showered early before YN would wake up and was already gone, and stayed out of the kitchen before she would go to bed.

In the four months, the sightings had been few and far between and she realized that he meant it very literally when he said that he’ll stay out of her way if she stays out of his.

In the sparse times they’ve shared space, whether it was in the hallway or kitchen, Harry’s lip would always curl up and his nose twitched which always incited a bit of insecurity about her scent.

She had always gotten compliments on hers, how light and powdery it smelled like clean laundry spritzed with a hint of orange blossom and vanilla.

YN did not understand why it was so unappealing to the alpha but he was in for a rude awakening as the month leading up to her heat began.

Her scent got noticeably stronger, she felt the urge to scentmark more items in her apartment to claim that this was her home and safe space.

As expected, Harry didn’t say anything the day it all started to intensify.

And to be fair, he never said anything to her.

The closest thing she would get was a low grunt of greeting but despite that, she felt safe with him in her home, and never had any worry that she was in danger.

The alpha made her feel an overwhelming sense of security, in fact, that she had never felt with any beta or omega.

It wasn’t necessary that he was mean to her or treated her poorly, he just…was there.

He didn’t bring anyone home with him, never asked if he could have someone spend the night nor has she ever smelled any visitors either.

However, things really start to change in the beginning of October, the month before her heat would crest and peak before the cycle started all over again.

The first major change she would notice was the difficulty sleeping.

Normally, she slept better than most without typically ever having to get up in the middle of the night or any tossing and turning.

When October hit, it felt near impossible for her to fall asleep and then when she was so exhausted that she did end passing out, it wouldn’t be long before she was awake again which made her always feel like she needed a nap.

It was late for a weekday, the clock showing that it was close to midnight, and she had to be up for work at six in the morning but her body did not seem to get the memo because after attempting to sleep since ten, it had not been successful.

YN decided to give it some time before she laid back down again.

YN grabbed a bag of pretzels from the cupboard, gave Beatrice one of the squeeze tubes of tuna-flavored goop, and cuddled up on the couch in the living room.

Of course, nothing sounded good as she flipped through the options, and decided on a romantic comedy that didn’t really interest her but it was her best option to make her sleepy, even if it was from the boredom of a corny film.

YN was about thirty-five minutes in when she realized that the movie wasn’t a helpful tool to fall asleep because she was completely interested in the plot line and she was even more awake than before trying to follow the story.

It made her jump in the slightest when the lock turns in the front door before it’s being opened roughly as Harry walks into the small entryway, shutting the door behind him, and beginning to shuck his coat without even realizing she was sitting there.

She hears him grumpily mumble, “Always leaves the fuckin’ television on.”

Which, yeah, she does forget half the time and the other half she feels like Beatrice likes it on for comfort.

Harry looked worn down, tired, and as beautiful as ever.

He had a duffle over his shoulder that most likely held his work clothes and gym outfit because YN was quite sure that after he was down at his office, he went to the gym which he was at for quite a long time.

She vaguely remembers Niall saying that he boxes occasionally for money and that he trains daily which was a pretty brutal routine of working out before work and after work with no time for relaxation in between.

After he’s lined his shoes up neatly against the wall, (YN notices that he also does the same with her shoes that she had half-haphazardly kicked off when she came home from work), he walks into the living room.

It was obvious that he was going toward the television to shut it off but he lets out the lowest growl of surprise when he spots YN tucked deeply into the corner of the couch with a blanket tucked like a burrito around her.

And YN had never heard, in real life, an alpha growl before.

Instead of being scared, she felt the sudden urge to purr, which scared the absolute shit out of her because why the fuck would she want to purr? She’d only done that when she was a pup and never in her adult life.

Why would she want to do that when this alpha was obviously on edge to the point of growling.

“What are you doing?” Harry grunts, voice sharp and annoyed, nostrils flaring as he must take in her smell.

“I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies hesitantly, eyes darting back up to the screen and then to him because his gaze was so intense and accusatory - it was her house, she could be wherever she wanted when she wanted no matter what time.

“Why?” Harry follows up, his arms crossing over his chest, and making his biceps look unfairly big.

YN grits her teeth, debating on whether she wants to give him a snarky remark to mind his business but then she remembers that she has to live with him and would rather not have them on worse terms then they already seem to be on.

“I always have difficulty sleeping the month of my pre-heat,” YN shrugs, a little embarrassed to be talking about something so intimate with someone who likely did not want to hear anything about her personal life.

“Is that normal?” Harry’s brow furrows, not seeming to like her answer to his question.

YN swipes her tongue across her front teeth nervously, “Um, not really. I…I have a lot of issues regarding my heats and that is one of many. Yeah, I see a doctor but there’s only so much they can do, I guess.”

Harry nods in understanding, doesn’t ask anymore questions or even acknowledge her again as he goes about making himself something to eat before disappearing into his room without another word to her which she was used to by this point.

YN rewinds the movie at bit, she couldn’t really focus when Harry was in the vicinity, and his smell was so fucking overwhelming as he obviously hadn’t showered after the gym and was waiting until he got home.

It wasn’t a bad smell, neither of sweat or filth.

No, it was just that his already delicious smell was stronger, darker, and just encompassing every molecule of the apartment.

It takes her a moment to refocus her attention back on the screen and remember where she had left off, vaguely hearing the shower start to run before he’s shutting the door to his bedroom a little more roughly than a normal.

The plot takes a very unexpectant twist at the end and YN didn’t realize that this rom-com had a sad ending which she really wasn’t used to in most films like this.

After working through all the turmoil and drama that kept popping up for this couple, they finally get it right, and the alpha was about to propose to the omega when he got in a car accident, and ended up passing away.

YN doesn’t not even recognize that she is sobbing like an absolute baby until Harry is standing in front of her with a twitch of irritation in his jaw and only in a pair of joggers, nothing stopping her from seeing the bare, defined muscle of his upper half.

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks as he looks down at her, arms crossed yet again.

YN wipes her face with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie, tears tracks surely making her face puffy as she sits up, “It ha-had a really sad ending I wasn’t expecting,” YN nods up towards where the credit were rolling, “Th-The alpha dies and doesn't get to pro-propose.”

“That’s got you all worked up?” Harry sighs as he moves to grab the remote, flicking off the television and motioning for her to stand up, “You need to try to go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” YN nearly whines, making tears start again.

Oh, did she mention she gets unreasonably emotional during her pre-heat?

“Try,” Harry insists and he gently grabs her wrist, pulling her to her feet, “For both of our sakes, please just try to get some rest.”

YN frowns at that, why does it matter to him?

She hates that she feels disappointed when he lets go of her.

“Okay,” YN agrees as she shuffles her feet towards her bedroom, despising that despite how unfriendly the alpha is, she finds herself wanting comfort from him which…it just doesn’t make any sense and she pushes those thoughts to the very back of her mind.

YN veers off towards the bathroom first and by the time she turns to say goodnight, Harry’s already back in his room with the door shut, and she just ends up sighing before shutting the door of the bathroom to use it before she tries to sleep again.

As she sits down, she notices a pile of fabric in the corner near the sink, and out of curiosity once she’s done, she plucks it up and holds it out.

It was the shirt that Harry had been wearing when he came home, the one he worked out in, and it was absolutely drenched in that smell that made YN weak at the knees.

Harry was meticulously clean.

He never even left behind as much as a crumb of a sandwich and so seeing a shirt of his was unusual because it had never happened before.

YN has no excuse for her behavior, doesn’t really even consciously realize that she’s doing it until she’s back in her room with his shirt tucked up into her hoodie.

She pulls it out and pathetically enough, brings it to her nose where it just smells of alpha, comfort, security, and everything she could ever imagine

It feels wrong, invasive to his privacy almost, and she has never done anything like this in her life.

There was something that outweighed all those negative feelings because she finds that as soon as she lays down and tucks the shirt around her pillow to lay her face into, her eyes instantly become droopy and in no time, she’s out like a light.

YN tries to push the whole shirt incident out of her mind the next day, blaming it on her pre-heat haziness, and absolutely nothing else.

Logically, she knows she should return his shirt to him, at least tossing it in his hamper but his scent lingered for days afterwards and there was a direct correlation to how much better she had been sleeping since.

When the scent was completely gone, it was like clockwork that YN began to not be able to fall asleep.

It leads her to another night on the couch, another night of Harry coming in late, and being irritated that she was still awake.

“You were fine the last few nights,” Harry notes as his greeting, no ‘hello’ or ‘how was your day’.

YN bites the corner of her lip, lowering the volume a tad on the television, “I know.”

“So why are you up right now?” Harry questions and god, are all alphas this blunt and impersonal or was it just this alpha in particular.

“Because I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies like it’s obvious.

Harry bares his teeth slightly, “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I told you, my pre-heat,” YN realizes that she’s getting a bit defensive because the real answer is much more mortifying and something she would never actually share with him.

He steps in, dropping his duffle unceremoniously, and walks closer to her.

Harry starts to speak slowly, precisely like he’s trying to get YN to understand, “I am not stupid. I understand that. I am asking you, what made you sleep the last few nights? You slept like a rock when I check-, when I walked past your room.”

YN shouldn’t react the way she does but she feels in a way that all the tension between them bubbles up.

Not to mention, it’s incredibly irritating to her how drawn her omega is to him, his scent, his presence, and she fucking hates it because he’s a dickhead.

“I don’t fuckin know, okay? Leave it alone. I’m allowed to be in my living room at whatever hour of the night I please without a fucking interregation,” YN snaps at him angrily, cursing when tears start to drip down her cheeks, and these hormones just sucked, amplifying every emotion she has ten-fold.

Harry lets out a low growl at that, just like the other night, and it doesn’t scare YN once again.

No, for some reason it makes her anger ebb just the slightest.

“Stop the attitude,” Harry replies evenly but his voice was deeper, “I was just checking in on you.”

Anyone else telling her to stop her attitude?

It would have escalated into a nasty fight.

YN instead just deflates, curling up further into her blanket, and covering her face because she just couldn’t get in control of the tears that were streaming down.

He must think she’s a lunatic.

Harry leaves her once again to go shower.

YN’s absolutely praying that he leaves a shirt rumbled on the floor again, despite how guilty that thought makes her feel.

She just wants sleep and for her hormones to even out.

YN feels a bit like a criminal when she goes to the bathroom, soon after Harry had went back out to make himself something for dinner, and there’s a massive disappointment in her stomach when the bathroom is as spotless as always.

She is craving the scent, she knows she can get another fix of it but it would definitely be in his hamper, in his room, and it’s such an invasion of privacy for her to go in there but then again, he’s frying something on the stovetop and he wouldn’t know…

YN’s never stolen in her life, not even gum or nail polish when she was younger, and it’s not even really stealing because she’ll give it back as soon as the scent wears off (but that’s not really true because she hasn’t returned his other shirt and has no intention of it).

She’s already opened his door, quickly scoping out the space, and realizing that his bedroom was the absolute fucking motherload of everything she could ever dream of.

If she thought their whole apartment smelled like him, his bedroom was if you bottled it in a jar, it was thicker, more cloying than ever, and she noticed a purring in her chest before she realized she was doing it and stopped.

If she was completely insane, she would try to grab as much as possible, until her arms are overflowing and she can’t carry out anything else without it falling.

But she’s not that far off the deep end that she did that, she felt creepy enough as she tiptoed over to his laundry hamper and snatched the shirt that was lying on top, the one that Harry had walked in the apartment wearing early.

YN wishes she could loiter a bit longer but that meant a higher chance that she was going to get caught.

She is surprisingly successful as she sneaks back into her room, proud that she now has two shirts to add to her nest.

YN always had a nest, it provided her comfort and security but she absolutely loved that she could intertwine the fabric together with her soft blankets.

This meant she was guaranteed a few more good night sleeps.

YN was running incredibly behind for work the next.

She had slept so well that she must have turned off her alarm instead of snoozing iit.

Because when she finally cracks her eyes open, the sun is breaking through her blinds, and her body knows that it is much later than six in the morning.

Her phone confirms that when she clicks on the screen she sees that it is seven-thirty-five.

Any other day, it really wouldn’t be that big of a deal because besides meetings she could make her own schedule.

Of course, of course, she sleeps on the day of an important presentation that she was the head presenter on.

It started at nine which didn’t give her much wiggle room because the commute takes a decent amount of time and that’s if there’s no hectic traffic.

“Shit, shit, shit,” YN chants to herself when rolls out of bed, glaring judgmentally at Beatrice, and muttering, “You wake me up every other morning for breakfast, but not today, of all days?”

Beatrice blinks slowly at her before she lifts her paw pointedly and nibbles on it.

There’s no time for a shower or the makeup she wanted to do.

The only luck that was on her side was that she laid her outfit out last night after being incredibly indecisive about what she wanted to wear in front of the board of higher ups.

She had tugged her hair up into a loose ponytail that actually passed for the messy updo style, and put on her best push-up bra right after.

YN figured that while she was tugging on her trousers that she could go out to feed Beatrice, the button was being finicky as it always tending to be so she was looking down as she begin down the hall, and nearly fell backwards when she runs into something hard, warm, and delicious smelling.

Harry’s big hands reach out and wrap around her bare arms, keeping her upright as she yelps in surprise, pants going unbuttoned for a moment as she grips Harry’s forearms for stability and looks at him with wide eyes.

His nostrils are flaring viciously, an irritated growling rumbling through his chest, and he keeps his eyes on her the full time.

They never once darted down to her chest, that not only was just covered by her bra but was also sheer enough that her nipples were completely visible through the nude fabric.

YN is confused by her own desire to just curl into his chest and feel his shirtless chest against her barely clothed one, and what the fuck.

“Wha-“ YN stammers in confusion, why is he home?

“Why aren’t you at work?” Harry asks pointedly, his jaw was clenched tightly enough that it must be aching with soreness.

“I-I overslept,” She replies shakily, his hands still gripping her arms, fingertips pressing in, “I need to feed Beatrice.”

“No, what you need to do is get yourself dressed. Do you walk around half-naked with every alpha you know? S’indecent,” He’s scolding her like a child as he finally steps back.

YN has been so nice up until this point, despite how wonky her hormones have been.

She’s typically never a nasty person.

She rarely ever gets angry either.

However, today was the wrong day to fuck with her.

“Fuck you,” YN snaps back out of her stupor, much to Harry’s surprise, “I told I was late and I didn’t think you’d be home because you’re always at work by now. I’m sorry I’ve offended you with my body, prick.”

YN turns on her heel, storming back to her room, and snatching up her phone to check the time to see an email notification from her work.

Good morning,

We hope this email finds you well. Our office has to be unfortunately shut down for the next few days due to a major power outage after flooding in the basement of the building. We are estimating a three to four day shutdown. To show our gratitude for your patience, these days will be marked as paid time off. Stay tuned for more information and updates.

Thank you,

Evergreen Financial Accounting

YN feels a huge weight lifted off her chest because not only does she get a few days to relax but now she isn’t going to be late to her important presentation .

However, she does not feel completely relieved because the anger chewing at her over her housemate is just as heavy, even more prominent, and has triggered her inner hormonal omega.

YN fees a flash of defiance which is never a good sign as she usually never tries to rock the boat or cause a stir, prefers to fly under the radar.

No, not today.

YN storms back out of her room because she was going to feed Beatrice in her bra and unbuttoned work slacks if she wanted to.

Harry was sat on the living room couch which was an uncommon sight, a protein drink in a shaker cup, and his eyes on his phone in the opposite hand.

YN goes back into the kitchen, deciding she might as well make herself a breakfast sandwich while she’s at it after she fills Beatrice’s bowl.

She can feel his eyes on her, intense and if it could, his gaze would be burning a hole in her back with how directed and annoyed it was.

YN moves slowly, now that she’s in no rush at all, and she feels stupid for being surprised when Harry lets out a snarl loud enough to echo in the space.

YN doesn’t turn around.

It feels dangerous, she’d learned over and over again growing up to never ever antagonize an alpha, and here she was.

When she doesn’t respond to the noise, it gets louder and makes her ears ring just the slightest, he’s trying to force her attention on him.

Bossy, ill-mannered alpha.

His voice is closer when he speaks, she never even hears him get up.

“Go get some fuckin’ clothes on,” Harry orders, his voice deeper, raspier than she had ever heard it.

But it also sent a very unpleasant spark of nervousness up her spine because the alpha in front of her was past the point of being annoyed, he was furious.

His shoulders were as broad as they could go, his teeth flashing at her, and his scent was richer, thicker, tinged with a sharp pine.

The playful, brattiness dissipates from her body as his growls stay loud, demanding, deafening.

YN doesn’t realize at first what a bad decision it is to flip her hair over her shoulder, putting her bare bond spot right on display in front of an agitated alpha.

To her utter dismay, he steps forward and their chests are nearly touching, his eyes were now completely focused on the curve of her neck.

When he reaches up, cupping the side of her neck, and curiously thumbs over the spot, YN cannot control the whine that leaves her throat.

His eyes move directly back up to hers, the noise drags him for his daze, and back into reality.

He actually does look her up and down this time, eyes lingering on her chest for a minute before he’s hissing at her once again, “Go get a fucking shirt on.”

With that, he’s turning and grabbing his duffle before storming out the front door, shutting it hard enough it vibrates but then she still hears him take the time to lock it.

Stupid fucking alpha.

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