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hedghost · 2 years ago

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alessia russo | make you my problem

sick of her family's endless questions about her dating life, alessia invents a fake girlfriend to get them off her back. unfortunately, now she has to deal with the consequences, which means dealing with you.

(fake dating fic inspired by business by catfish and the bottlemen)

word count: 13.5k

alessia stared down at the card in her hand. her eyes flicked over the perfectly printed calligraphy for the hundredth time that day. it was the first time she'd got it out since it had been delivered three months ago, when she'd promptly piled it beneath a stack of bills on the countertop, and tried to ignore it. unfortunately, the solution hadn't magically appeared as she'd hoped it would, and the wedding was fast approaching.

she read the words again, her expression burning lasers into the paper.

formally invited... et cetera et cetera... the wedding of luca russo... so on and so forth... invites alessia russo... and there was the kicker... plus one.

to really rub salt in the wound, her brother luca had scribbled a sharpie winky face next to the last bit, obscuring the ornate lettering with a scruffy, mocking squiggle.

let it be clear, alessia enjoyed her life the way it was. she enjoyed not being tied down by the constraints of someone else, she enjoyed her own space, her independence. she'd curated her own little routines, her own little preferences, and now she was free to bask in the luxuries of single life. but still, her heart tugged a little at the card - and its implications.

when luca had asked if she'd wanted a plus one to the wedding, months ago, she'd been tempted to answer truthfully, and decline. it was the look on his face however, that teasing smirk that was always so prevalent between siblings, that changed her mind. if she said no, she'd be subject to the usual smug commentary from her brothers, both of whom were happily partnered off, and the unbearably not-so-subtle questions from her parents about her dating life. and so she did her best impression of nonchalance, waved him off with a non-committal smile, and said yes.

she had braced herself for the comments, let it wash off her back when her mum asked her if she had 'finally found someone', or when her other brother gio gave her a vastly sceptical look, like he couldn't believe she'd ever bring a date. it was fine. she was used to this.

as much as alessia loved single life, it would be a lie to say it didn't sting when she turned up to every family gathering alone, watching everyone else with their partners. it would be a lie to say the ribbing and teasing from her brothers didn't hurt a little, that it didn't play on some deep-rooted insecurity she'd tried so hard to stamp out. she told herself it was better this way, but year by year, she watched from the side-lines as all her friends seemed to find their other halves, and yet here she remained, as luca had once said; a 'lone wolf'.

so she'd said yes, when the wedding had been months away, and she had all the time in the world to find a date. now, the wedding was a week away, and here she was. glaring daggers into a wedding invite, very much dateless.

her phone vibrated against the counter, where she'd dropped it unceremoniously after coming in from her match. it was undoubtedly luca again, who had been trying to call her all day. she knew exactly why he was calling. alessia considered declining the call, but she knew her brother would be persistent.

"hey luca," she sighed into the phone, leaning her head against the cupboard.

"less, hi! great game today!"

"thanks," she murmured. her head was beginning to hurt, and she was unsure if it was from the bone-deep exhaustion she felt, or the looming threat of showing up alone to the wedding.

"hey listen, i just wanted to ask you about the-"

"-the wedding, yeah i know," alessia racked her brain for a way out of this conversation, but came up short.

"okay cool, just because you never responded to my texts about your date, and i need to know if you're actually bringing one," luca paused, a muffled noise coming from the other end of the line. alessia assumed he was talking to his fiancée. luca spoke again, voice slightly softer, but still a little harried. "if you aren't that's alright, we just need to know like, right now. if it were anyone else i'd say it's too late to change stuff but since it's you, i'll let you off,"

alessia hesitated. she could tell him the truth. she really should tell him the truth. luca had just given her an out, perfectly plated up for her.

and yet, irritation stirred inside her. luca seemed so sure, so certain that she didn't have a date. she couldn't bear the thought of proving him right. she could already hear gio's remarks, see his smug smile. her mum's overly sympathetic expression flashed in her mind, not for the first time.

alessia loved her brothers, really she did. but that's not to say that, like most siblings, they couldn't be really, fucking annoying. honestly, most things alessia did in life were to spite them. even football, which at first had been her way of joining in with her cool, older brothers, soon became a way to show them up, to prove that anything they could do, she could wipe the floor with them at. alessia made her decision.

"no, it's fine, i'm bringing someone,"

"wait, what?" luca's shock was evident in his voice. alessia gritted her teeth.

"i'm dating someone,"

"seriously?" luca now seemed to be scrambling for what to say, clearly having not expected this answer. "oh, yeah, cool, well, in that case, we need to know his name for the seating charts and stuff,"

alessia cringed. both at luca's assumption of gender, and at the trap she'd just laid for herself. this was a very stupid idea.

"her name," she corrected, on instinct.

god, what was wrong with her? why couldn't she stop talking?

"oh! right sorry- good for you less. we need her name then,"

fuck. what was she doing? alessia had dug herself into a hole of epic proportions, and she really hadn't thought this far ahead. in all honestly, she hadn't really thought at all.

she couldn't back out now though. alessia racked her brain for potential fake suitors, someone she could convince to accompany her for the evening, someone who would raise very little questions. she considered ella, but alessia's family all knew she had a boyfriend. millie, maybe? god knows millie had a thing for dating footballers, but alessia also knew she was awful at keeping her mouth shut. she could try katie, but her brothers had met her on many occasions, they wouldn't believe it for a second. no, it needed to be someone her brothers didn't know well, someone who it would be very easy to erase from her family's memory once the night was over.

alessia felt her mouth move before she had the time to process what she was even saying. the regret was instant, but the words were out before she could swallow them.

"y/n,"

"wait, from united? y/n y/l/n?"

shit. shit, this was bad. of all the players, why had she unconsciously said your name. alessia swallowed hard, closing her eyes and wincing as she nodded to herself.

"yes,"

"oh shit, i didn't even know you guys were close,"

exactly, cursed alessia to herself, we aren't.

"its pretty recent," alessia said instead. god, this was bad. this was so, so bad.

"okay, does she have any food allergies or anything?"

as if alessia had any idea. she'd had maybe five conversations with you in total, and every single one had been utterly infuriating. why she'd said your name was a mystery, and one she was majorly regretting already.

"uh, i don't think so, i'll double check tomorrow," alessia winced as she spoke, very glad this conversation was not face to face.

"well, can you text her now?"

no, alessia thought, i cannot. she didn't even have your number.

"sure," alessia needed to end the call before she said something else she'd regret, "okay luca, i have to go, i'll speak to you later okay?"

"what less no! you just dropped a bomb that you're finally seeing someone, and you're just going to hang up without telling me a thing?"

"yes, i am. goodnight luca,"

after hanging up, alessia borderline threw her phone across the room. she collapsed into a chair, dragging her hands over her face.

"what the fuck have i just done?"

---

alessia woke up the next day, feeling entirely unrefreshed, and unresolved. she'd hoped to sleep on her options after her disastrous claims to luca last night, but the stress of it all meant she barely slept full stop.

at least she had the day off from training. the thought of facing you right now was honestly sickening. not for the first time, alessia cursed herself for saying your name. why she hadn't chosen someone she was actually friends with - someone who would actually go along with her ridiculous lie - was beyond her.

it wasn't that alessia didn't like you, per se, but the two of you had just never seemed to click. since your transfer at the start of the season, you'd become fast friends with pretty much all of the girls, except alessia. honestly, it had killed her at first. alessia prided herself on being likeable, on being able to get on with most people, but for some reason, it was like there was an invisible barrier between the two of you. okay, yeah maybe alessia just didn't like you.

alessia had tried to initiate conversations, but you'd respond with a standoffish comment, or a blunt joke that just didn't seem to land with her. everyone else would laugh, but alessia would find herself awkwardly drawing a blank on what to do or say. the few times you did speak, alessia just found herself getting irritated with you, with the way you seemed to constantly be mocking or teasing her for something, the way you always left her feeling frustrated, and flustered. she assumed you had some sort of vendetta agaisnt her, although she could never quite pinpoint what, or why.

she'd never really had to try to get people to like her before, never really had to force conversation, and for once in her life she hadn't known how to interact with someone.

and so, rather than try, she'd kind of just accepted it. if you didn't like her, if you had some sort of problem with her, then she'd just leave you alone. and so she had. you interacted in a purely surface level manner, as teammates - and no one could deny you were an attacking double act to be reckoned with on the pitch - but that was about as far as it went.

her musing was interrupted by a rather heavy pounding on the door of her flat. she dragged herself out of bed, expecting the postman, but instead was greeted by a very excited ella.

"why didn't you tell me?" ella said immediately, barging past alessia into the flat with the force of a bull on steroids. her eyes widened and she began to look around frantically. "oh my god, is she here?" alessia rubbed the sleep from her eyes. she was not awake enough for whatever this was.

"el, i- what?"

"y/n? is she here?" ella turned to look at alessia, honest-to-god beaming at her. "i can't believe you didn't tell me!"

finally, alessia's brain caught up with ella's tirade. right, y/n.

"you spoke to luca," it wasn't a question. ella didn't seem to notice alessia's sour mood, instead moving to look in alessia's bedroom, as if for some damned reason you'd be in there, god forbid.

alessia weighed her options carefully. on the one hand, she couldn't lie to ella. she'd be found out almost immediately. plus, once ella was involved, that meant the whole team was. it was one thing to lie to her family for one evening, but to lie to the whole team, who she spent hours each day in close contact with, was a whole other kettle of fish. of course, this was all assuming alessia actually spoke to you, and by some miracle, convinced you to keep up the lie. this of course would never happen, since alessia was still pretty sure you hated her.

alternatively, and probably the best idea, she could tell ella the truth. ella might even be able to help her out, set her up with a date or something. it crossed her mind that you were friends with ella, and maybe she'd be able to get you to help alessia out. she dismissed that idea pretty quickly.

"ella, listen-" she began, but ella cut her off immediately.

"oh, less i'm so happy for you guys, i knew you would be so great together!"

alessia was a little taken aback. the thought that ella had seen her interact with you, and somehow come to that conclusion, was honestly baffling. in alessia's shock, ella continued on, " i never understood why you never seemed to get on with her, because you know, she's literally the best, but now it all makes sense!"

"it...does?" alessia didn't really know what to say. she absolutely hadn't expected this reaction.

"you were being shy because you had a crush!" ella exclaimed, as though she'd come to an obvious conclusion. "fuck's sake less, you should've just told me you liked her, i could have set you guys up so much sooner-" alessia barely knew how to respond, she just knew she had to stop this before ella went any further.

"no, that's not-"

"aw less, this is so cute! i can't wait to tell everyone else!" that snapped alessia back to reality.

"no! i mean, please don't,"

"why not?" ella looked at alessia, eyes questioning. she needed to confess, to tell ella the truth before it spiralled. this was already getting out of hand and alessia needed to put it to bed, right now.

"we-uh- we aren't telling people yet. its pretty recent,"

oops.

"oh right, yeah totally less," ella nodded solemnly, and gave alessia a reassuring smile. she tried to return it, but she couldn't muster much more than a grimace, "okay, well, i only stopped by to ask you about it, but i'll see you tomorrow yeah?"

alessia only nodded, watching helplessly after ella as she disappeared down the corridor. she'd really gone and fucked it now.

---

she spent the rest of the day contemplating her options, but unsurprisingly, found no easy way out. she refused point blank to admit to luca it was a lie, espescially now that ella was involved, which meant only one thing. she had to ask for your help. alessia felt honestly ill at just the thought of speaking to you, but she resigned herself to it - it was the only option. it was one night, a single wedding. all she had to do was get on her knees and beg, put up with one night of your infuriating company, then endure a lifetime of embarassment from you. super easy.

ella's earlier words remained in the forefront of her mind. alessia knew that it would only be a matter of time before the whole team discovered the 'news', which meant she had to get to you before they did. she considered messaging you on instagram, but her finger hovered over the button, unable to move.

no, she thought, after opening your profile for the hundredth time. this was the kind of conversation you had face-to-face. although not that alessia had ever had to have this ridiculous conversation before. besides, surely it was best to leave no paper trail.

----

alessia had virtually no sleep for the second night in a row, sleeping though her alarm and therefore ensuing on a mad rush to get to the training ground in time. by the time she arrived, she was practically vibrating; a combination of nervous energy and the coffee she'd downed as she ran out her door.

alessia arrived at the ground in time for the morning meeting, which she listened to approximately none of, hyper-aware of your presence on the other side of the room. finally marc finished speaking, and she stood to try and catch you.

"y/n?" she called, voice borderline desperate. you turned to look at her, as did ona and aoife, who you'd been mid-conversation with. you didn't say anything, just looked into alessia's eyes expectantly. realising she had the attention of a quarter of the room, it occurred to her that now was not the best time to do this. alessia's voice trailed off, and she took a step back.

"uh, nothing," alessia mumbled, and you smirked a little. she gritted her teeth in annoyance, and walked in the opposite direction, just desperate to be anywhere but here, caught like a deer in your headlights. she decided to give it an hour, then catch you alone.

alessia lasted all of 15 minutes before the anxiety got too much, and she took off in search of you. she was so preoccupied that she didn't even see ella coming the other way. she barely even registered the collision, just questioning her on your whereabouts immediately.

"hey, have you seen y/n?"

ella raised her eyebrow, a shit-eating grin plastered onto her face within seconds. alessia rolled her eyes impatiently, knowing exactly where ella's mind had gone. god this was unbearable.

"not for that, i need to speak to her," alessia was getting anxious now, just desperate for this whole thing to be over, and ella's suggestive looks weren't helping in the least. ella seemed to notice when her breath picked up.

"you good, less?"

"can you please just tell me where y/n is?"

"i think she went towards the gym," ella calmed down, sensing alessia was in some distress. alessia took off without a second glance, trying her best to calm her shaking hands. this was fine. she just had to kindly explain, and then beg for you to help. maybe even offer you a hefty bribe or something, and just pray you didn't bite her head off.

alessia was so lost in her head as she marched towards the gym that she didn't notice you waiting for her in the corridor. she wasn't proud of the surprised yelp she let out when you grabbed her hand and pulled her, rather unceremoniously, into a storage cupboard.

"why have i just had someone tell me we're dating?"

fuck, thought alessia. this was not how this conversation was meant to go. she tried to speak, to explain, but, as usual when she was around you, she couldn't seem to get the words out. she blushed, stuttering around excuses.

"hello?" you smirked, clearly amused at alessia's panic. she looked up, meeting those dark eyes to find a hint of laughter. alessia blinked, her breath catching. the amusement in your eyes seemed to fade a little, and if alessia didn't know better, she might have recognised the faint concern laced underneath. "you good?"

"fuck, its my fault - i, i'm so sorry, i-"

"woah, alright, calm down," you reached out a lithe hand, hesitantly placing it on her shoulder.

alessia felt her face heating up, wishing desperately the ground would swallow her whole. it was now or never. she could feel your eyes boring into her, waiting for an explanation. she steeled herself, and let everything fall out in one mortified breath.

"i told my brother i had a girlfriend so he'd get off my back about my date to his wedding, only then he started asking questions so i panicked and said your name," the explanation is rushed, and you have to lean in to decipher exactly what alessia is muttering. she pauses, humiliation halting the next part.

"and then he told ella, who told everyone, so now the whole team thinks we're together, and also my family are expecting me to bring you to the wedding on sunday," her voice trails off.

you let out a laugh, a little taken aback by the comedy of the whole situation. alessia looked down at her feet, playing with the fingers nervously. you could feel the embarrassment practically radiating form her in waves. you felt a little bad. alessia stood in front of you, clearly stressed about this wedding for some reason, so much so she's caught herself up in a lie. a lie involving you, no less, who she seemed to hate, for some reason unbeknownst to you.

fuck it, you thought. you shrugged a little.

"alright," you said simply. alessia snapped her head up so fast you were surprised she didn't get whiplash.

"what?"

"alright. i'll help you out,"

"you- you'll what?"

"i'll help," you shrugged again, keeping your replies deliberately blasé, just to make alessia squirm a little. she was surprisingly easy to stress out, and it was fairly entertaining. "i don't have plans on sunday anyway,"

"you'll come to the wedding?" you nodded, "as my date?" you nodded again. alessia sounded confused, and a little sceptical. she was wary, you realised, expecting a trap, or some sort of condition. "seriously? i'll do anything you want,"

you smirked a little at the tail end of her statement. you were telling the truth; you were free on sunday, and honestly you'd been looking for a chance to break through to alessia for a while now, since she seemed to want absolutely nothing to do with you. you honestly would've done it just to be nice, but her words gave you an idea.

"anything i want?" you could tell alessia instantly regretted saying that. you'd caught her in a very desperate position. she nodded hesitantly. "okay, two conditions," alessia's eyes snapped back to yours, immediately on edge, "one, you give me some shooting practice," alessia interrupted you.

"what?"

"you heard me." you said simply, shrugging again, "i need to work on my shooting, you're our best striker. i want you to help me,"

it was true. you'd admired alessia as a player for a while now, and had hoped that coming to manchester would allow you to learn from her. you were an excellent midfielder, known for your creative play and chance creation, but despite all your ball control and technical skills, you had only scored a handful of times in your career.

despite your hopes however, alessia had never really let you in. while you made fast friends with everyone else, she had clammed up whenever you tried to talk to her. a few times she'd initiated conversation, and as soon as you'd give her a trademark witty comment back, she'd end the interaction, leaving you wondering what the hell you'd done to offend her. it'd been a disappointment, but you'd gotten over it, settling in with the rest of the team and ignoring alessia's subtle glares in your direction. now however, it was you in a position of leverage. maybe you could get something out of this too.

"okay, sure," she nodded, "what's the second thing?"

"stop acting so weird around me,"

alessia spluttered. her earlier embarrassment paved way for only pure indignation.

"i act weird? the fuck does that mean? you're the one who's always either brushing me off, or being a dick whenever i try and speak to you!"

"when have i ever brushed you off? i try to talk to you and you just forget how to speak or something, and then you walk off with a stick up your arse," you smirked, watching as alessia got increasingly frustrated.

"yeah, because you say stuff that doesn't make any sense, like how am i meant to respond to half the shit you say? or you say stuff just to piss me off! that's a pretty clear sign that someone doesn't like you, y/n!"

"i've never once acted like i didn't like you - it's called making a joke, alessia," you said, purposefully emphasising her name, "no one else has a problem with it, i'm just trying to make conversation with you,"

"why do you have to be so frustrating? it's like you have to win every conversation!" alessia cried indignantly. you took a small step forward, meeting her eyes with yours. alessia unconsciously stepped back, but she was already pressed up against the shelves of the small storage cupboard.

"maybe you're just very easy to frustrate, alessia," you said softly, lowering your voice, "maybe you should work on that,"

alessia had no response, only clenching her jaw and rolling her eyes. you stepped back, noticing how her shoulders dropped ever so slightly. you placed a hand on the handle to leave, but before you opened it, you turned back to alessia, meeting her eyes with a smirk.

"send me your address - i'm coming over later," when alessia opened her mouth to protest, you cut her off, "unless you don't want my help after all?" you raised a single eyebrow and alessia sighed.

"yeah, okay. fine,"

"bye," you turned and stalked out the cupboard, stopping at the door once more to look alessia dead in the eye, shit-eating grin plastered on your face, "babe,"

----

"so what exactly was your plan if i didn't say yes?"

"well technically i never asked for your help," alessia grumbled.

"you would've. i was just putting you out of your misery by offering first,"

"you don't know that. anyway, my plan was to maybe run away to mexico,"

"maybe you'd meet a date there,"

alessia huffed from her position on her sofa. god you were infuriating. it had only been a few hours of this charade, and you were already getting under her skin. alessia was starting to think that public humiliation courtesy of her brothers would have been the better option.

"at least then i wouldn't have to deal with you," alessia mumbled.

"oh but you were just starting to like me! look, you're using full sentences when you speak to me and everything!"

"get fucked," alessia said. you were right; at least now she was capable of holding a conversation with you. unfortunately, this graduation meant alessia now had to deal with a lot more of your infuriating personality.

you'd shown up at her flat almost immediately after training, leaving alessia to scramble to try and make the place presentable. now here you were, reclining lazily in her living room, an invasive species taking root in her safe space, and giving very unhelpful suggestions about how to fake a relationship.

"i'm thinking we say you fell madly in love with me at first sight and then-"

"we don't need to say anything!"

"no one is going to believe we're together if we don't even have a backstory, alessia!" you were enjoying this far too much, she could tell. "that might work for your uncles or something, but if you think the girls won't want every juicy detail you are sorely mistaken,"

alessia buried her face in her hands, not for the first time that evening. she felt the familiar rising of panic in her chest, tried to drown out your constant talking, and calm down. this was becoming way too much.

"what the fuck am i doing?" she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. you paused, and alessia braced herself for another round of teasing from you.

instead, she jumped when she felt your hand on her shoulder. your touch was firm, but grounding, and not at all what alessia had been expecting.

"you alright?"

alessia shook her head, trying to control her breathing and prevent the oncoming spiral. she felt you move to sit next to her, jolting a little as she felt the brush of your thigh against hers. it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't been this close to, well, anyone, in a very long time. she didn't dare look up.

"this was so stupid, i never should have gotten you involved," her voice was small, embarrassed, "i'm sorry, you don't have to stay,"

"can i ask you something?," you said, and alessia nodded hesitantly.

"why do you care so much? why lie at all?"

alessia sighed. normally, she would have her guard straight back up, but she'd done an awful lot of lying recently, and she was getting very tired.

"i just- i like being single, i honestly do, but, i'm just sick of people going on about it. every single time, its all 'when are you getting a boyfriend, alessia' or 'less, let me set you up with my friend'. it's my mum giving me these pitying looks when my brothers are with their girlfriends and i'm on my own, again,"

she was rambling now, gesticulating wildly as everything that had been building up inside her came out in a rant of emotion. you placed your hand gently on her thigh, and alessia jumped, but continued on, "it's my brothers constantly taking the piss, like they can't believe i could ever find someone. you should have heard how shocked luca was when i said i was seeing someone! and i'm fine on my own, really i am, but when i hear that, it just pisses me off and so i just said it to prove him wrong. even though he isn't wrong, at all,"

alessia stopped, breathing a little hard. she felt a tear prick at the corner of her eye, and willed herself to calm down. she'd already said far too much to you, didn't want to give you any more ammunition than she already had. she winced in anticipation of your teasing remarks, but none came.

"that makes sense. that would get to me too," you didn't move your hand. alessia shook her head.

"i'm sorry for dragging you into this, we should just forget this ever happened,"

"if you really want me to go, i will," you said, "but i want to help,"

"i can't ask you to do this, it's so dumb,"

"you didn't ask remember? i offered," you nudged her shoulder, and she let out a choked laugh despite herself.

"come on," you nudged her again, "i'm not really that bad, am i?,"

alessia shook her head, her gaze fixed on where your hand still rested on her thigh, your fingers absentmindedly stroking her leg. begrudgingly, she had to agree. maybe she'd underestimated you.

"okay," she nodded, finally looking up at you, "let's fake date,"

you smiled, and moved away slightly. alessia felt an unfamiliar twinge at the loss of contact.

"by the way, you're going to have to stop blushing every time i touch you,"

alessia almost choked, her face heating up even more, "i'm not!"

you just shrugged, that familiar teasing smirk returning.

"whatever you say, babygirl,"

alessia just rolled her eyes.

"okay, so what's the plan?" you said, making your way over to the kitchen. you began to root through alessia's cupboards, "why have you not got any real food in here?"

"i have real food-"

"no, this is just like, oats and stuff,"

"it's ingredients. stop going through my cupboards,"

"fine, i'll order food. what do you want?"

alessia just stared at you, utterly baffled. why you were acting as though this was a perfectly normal occurrence, for you to be stood in her kitchen as though it was your own, for you to be ordering her dinner, she had no clue. you stared back, clearly waiting for an answer.

"um, whatever you like," alessia gave in, still looking at you incredulously. you just hummed, and reached in her cupboard for a glass. alessia could only wonder how you even knew where the glasses were.

---

you'd agreed that the best course of action would be to take it slow, ease people into the idea of your relationship. admittedly, no one had ever seen you interact at training, so they were unlikely to believe a sudden 180 in behaviour. the both of you were fairly private people, so it wasn't like the others would be expecting you to launch out the pda immediately. a few gentle touches here and there, a couple whispered conversations, that was all you needed.

alessia didn't walk out to training with you, but the two of you made sure to stand next to each other where possible. you placed a hand on the small of her back when you saw ella eyeing the two of you suspiciously, only removing it when you saw her start whispering to millie. job done.

while you seemed to be playing your part with ease, alessia thrummed with nerves. she flinched when she felt you touch her back, and she swallowed at the spike of electricity it sent down her spine. alessia waited for you to remove it, but you only let it rest there. she breathed into the touch, relaxing enough to remember the plan. she gave you a performative smile, trying to school her features into those of a loving girlfriend, and you grinned.

“try it without looking like you’re in pain next time,” you whispered with a smirk, before running off to receive the ball. alessia stared after you, clenching her jaw in annoyance. this was going to be a long few days.

alessia turned her attention back to the drill, managing a successful twenty minutes without any you-shaped irritation. then the coaches called for you to partner up, and her luck ran out. she sighed as you came bounding over to her, grinning ear to ear like a love-sick puppy.

the two of you queued up, listening intently to the instructions. or rather, you listened. alessia could only focus on your hand, which had snaked its way around her waist and was tracing light shapes into her hipbone.

she was brought back to earth by the shout of her name. you laughed and nudged her,

“it’s your turn,” you smirked. alessia swallowed, realising she had no clue what she was meant to be doing.

“alessia! were you not paying attention?” the coach yelled from the sidelines. ella chose that moment to chime in.

“she was paying attention to someone else coach!”

millie wolf-whistled in response. alessia buried her head in her hands, feeling her face heat up. sensing her panic, you quickly pointed out what she was meant to be doing. alessia muttered a quick apology, running to take her turn.

she rounded on you as soon as training finished.

“what the fuck was that?”

“i should be asking you that!” you laughed. “careful alessia, anyone would think you were actually into me,”

the icy glare she sent your way could’ve frozen fire, but you just smirked.

“it’s not funny, you fucked up my whole training session,”

“i’m sorry! i didn’t realise little old me would distract you so much,”

“just don’t pull that shit tomorrow, alright?” alessia borderline spat, before turning on her heel and stalking away. you chased her down with a shout.

“hey, where are you going? you said you’d help with the shooting!”

fuck, you’d had alessia so riled up, she had entirely forgotten. she knew she needed to keep her promise, or risk losing your help, but the thought of spending another moment in your vicinity drove her insane. she needed to go home and calm down.

“after that stunt you pulled? we'll see about it tomorrow, alright?”

you thought about arguing, but seeing how hot and bothered alessia was, you decided not to risk annoying her anymore. you honestly didn’t know what her problem was - she’d asked for your help, hadn’t she? you nodded begrudgingly, watching after her as she walked to her car.

clearly, alessia was stressed, whether about the wedding or something deeper, you weren’t sure. as much as you enjoyed teasing her, you felt a little guilty about her reaction. you really hadn’t intended to distract her, but you’d seen how some of the girls were shooting sceptical glances at the two of you, and knew you needed to keep alessia’s cover. you resolved to be a little nicer tomorrow, hoping it might make alessia warm up to you somewhat.

back in her flat, alessia stared down at the invitation once again. there was no way all this was worth it, and she ran a hand raggedly down her face.

there was something about you, that was just so infuriating. the more you two were speaking, alessia just found herself increasingly frustrated. she’d previously pinned the emotion down to annoyance and irritation, but the longer it went on, she was starting to feel more flustered than anything. you always seemed to have the upper hand, and alessia was left stuttering to keep up. it was as if her brain just stopped functioning every time you so much as looked at her, or brushed her arm. it was extremely annoying.

alessia allowed herself a few moments to air her grievances, before dragging herself into the shower. she turned the temperature to cool, and tried to forget the sensation of your hand around her waist.

—-

the next day, training ran without a hitch. you made sure to fasten yourself to alessia’s side occasionally, but kept the touches and teasing to a minimum.

expecting a repeat of your antics from the previous day, alessia had showed up to training on edge. it seemed, however, that you were intent on keeping your word. it was an adjustment, getting used to your constant presence, but alessia found that without the constant teasing, she didn't mind too much. eventually, she relaxed into the familiarity of usual training, feeling more herself than she had all week.

without alessia to annoy, you'd turned your attention to light-hearted jokes at the other girls' expense. now that she was out from your spotlight, alessia found herself laughing along with the team. begrudgingly, she could see the funny side. maybe she was starting to see why everyone else liked you.

training finished, and alessia made her way over to where you stood chatting to the others. gaining a bolt of confidence, she snaked her arm around your waist. you jolted a bit at the unexpected contact. ever quick to recover, you flashed her a winning smile. she pressed herself deeper into your side.

"ready to go babe?" you asked, slinging a lazy arm around her shoulders. you didn't want to annoy alessia, not after you'd kept yourself in her good books all day, but you were increasingly aware of everyone else's eyes fastened on the two of you. alessia turned to look at you, all big blue eyes and smiling dimples. you wondered if she'd taken acting lessons since yesterday.

"i thought we could stay for some shooting practice?" she said sweetly. your eyes widened a little, pleasantly surprised she was going to hold up her end of the deal after all. you nodded, losing your words for a second. it was a little hard to think when she was looking at you like that.

"oh, uh, yeah- sounds good,"

alessia waved bye to the others, before she practically sauntered over to the goal. you watched, a little dumbfounded. clearly she was pleased with herself for having caught you off guard. after a beat, you said your goodbyes and jogged to catch her up, chuckling a little.

"so where do we start?"

"well, why don't we just run a few shots and we'll see where we go from there?"

you nodded and turned to grab a ball from the ball bag. it wasn't not unusual for players to stay after training, so most of the equipment had been left out. you glanced up to say something, but found alessia had disappeared.

"wh-?" you cut yourself off with a laugh when you spotted her grappling with a training mannequin on the far side of the field. as you watched her try to drag it over, she somehow managed to rather ungracefully trip over her own feet.

alessia swore, but looked up when she heard your bright laugh.

"oh shut up! just help me put this in the goal," she grumbled. you hoped you hadn't mistaken the hint of a smile in her voice.

"how are you so fucking clumsy?" you teased, lifting up the mannequin with ease. alessia followed as you walked to the goal, choosing not to answer. you placed it down. "here okay?"

alessia stepped back to judge the positioning. you couldn't deny she looked a little cute; hands on hips, head tilted, nose scrunched up in thought. you were broken from your musing as she stepped forward, dragging the mannequin a little to the left.

"hmm, a little more this way,"

"don't fall over it this time,"

"oh fuck off. so annoying," she mumbled, although the smile that appeared on her face betrayed her lack of annoyance. small wins, you thought.

the two of you began taking shots, alessia feeding them in as you whacked them into the net from distance. although you could often find the back of the net, your accuracy wasn't the best. you groaned after you failed to hit the top right for the third time.

"right, okay, i think i know what you're doing wrong," alessia said, as she fished the balls out the net. "you just need to position your body a little differently. here watch me,"

you fed a perfect pass into her - at least you had no problem with assists - and she struck the ball perfectly into the top corner.

"like this?" you said, trying to mimic the way she leant over the ball. alessia frowned.

"hmm, no, like-" she paused, clearly hesitating on her next move. the pause didn't last long though, as she planted her hands on your waist and physically manoeuvred you.

"so you want to move away from the defender like this," she swivelled your hips slightly, "and then, when you hit the ball, you want to sort of do this," she kept one hand on your waist, moving the other to your torso and guiding you through the motion. you tried to take in her words, but you could only focus on her body as it pressed up against yours. you nodded, suddenly a little flustered, but alessia didn't take her hands away.

alessia wasn't really thinking when she decided to touch you, but as she positioned your body, her thoughts drifted. your torso was firm underneath her hand, she noted, and her fingers slotted so neatly into the curve of your waist. her words trailed off, hands lingering a second too long.

alessia jolted as she realised where she was. she let go quickly, a little flustered. god, what was going on with her.

"um, yeah, try that," she said, taking another step back. she felt her face flush, but thankfully, you didn't turn to look at her.

trying to ignore alessia's lingering touch, and its subsequent quick departure, you geared up to take the shot. you tried to mimic what she'd done, and you grinned as the ball found its target.

"yes! that was it!" called alessia from where she stood, "now, let's run about a hundred more,"

when you finally walked off the training pitch together, you were pleasantly surprised by your progress. alessia was a good coach, now that she was actually acknowledging you. you looked over at her as she walked beside you.

the sun was setting by now, casting alessia in a warm orange glow. a piece of her hair had come loose from her braid. you wanted to thank her, but found you didn't want to break the comfortable silence engulfing the two of you.

alessia kept step beside you, contemplating her own sudden change of heart. now that she knew you a little better, the teasing remarks no longer spun her off kilter, and she found she was more amused than annoyed.

"i was thinking maybe i could come over tomorrow after training? to sort out plans for sunday and that?" she asked, turning to look at you.

"yeah sure, what time?" you said absentmindedly, lifting your shirt a little to wipe your face. despite the cool summer evening air, you'd managed to work up a sweat. alessia couldn't help the way her eyes drifted down to your exposed torso. she swallowed.

"alessia?" you prompted, turning to look at her when she didn't answer. she averted her eyes back to your face, before quickly looking away again when she made eye contact.

"oh, um, 7?"

"sounds good, i can make dinner?"

"should i be worried?" alessia smirked, recovering herself a little. jesus, she was all over the place lately. she tried to reassure herself it was just the stress of the impending wedding, pushing down the voice at the back of her head.

"fuck you, i'm a great cook,"

"i'll be the judge of that,"

---

alessia rocked band and forth on her heels as she waited outside your building. she contemplated checking the address yet again, but settled on messaging a simple i'm outside. luckily, it turned out you lived pretty close to her, so she had walked, the weather only a light summer drizzle.

training had run smoothly once again, with the two of you settling into the act comfortably. the nature of your job meant you were at liberty to keep it lowkey and professional, only having to share the occasional sly touch or whispered comment to maintain the facade. some of the others had finally given in to temptation and pressed you both for details. alessia had momentarily faltered, but was saved by you stepping in to proudly regale your concocted story. all she'd had to do was nod and smile in all the right places, content to sit back and eat her lunch while you took the reins. after everyone had left, you'd flashed her a smirk, and whispered "hook, line and sinker". then you'd ruined the moment by mocking her outfit, but she could forgive you for that.

alessia's careful musing on the day was interrupted by you bounding down the staircase. you threw the door open and beckoned her in.

"lift's broken so we have to take the stairs," you said, already making your way up, "try not to fall down them,"

"i'm not that clumsy,"

"could've fooled me," you shrugged.

thankfully alessia managed to keep her footing on all four flights, only nearly dropping her keys once. she hoped you didn't see that.

"okay, so i was thinking, for the wedding, we ne-"

"jesus, straight to the point, huh?"

"well, i was just-"

"you've literally just come through the door, we'll talk about it over tea,"

"stop interrupting me," alessia huffed, placing her bag down on the coffee table, "but fine,"

you made your way back to the kitchen area, and alessia took the chance to take in your open-plan flat. it was nice, she conceded, spacious but homely, decorated eclectically but well. she wasn't sure why she was shocked, as though she'd been expecting you to live in a cave or something.

she turned to join you in the kitchen, where you seemed to be plating up dinner already. alessia offered to help, but you waved her off, telling her to sit down.

"i didn't know you could cook," alessia said as the two of you ate. you hummed, shrugging slightly.

"you don't really know anything about me," you replied simply. for the first time, alessia felt a pang of guilt at not giving you a chance sooner. it was true - she could tell you any number of facts about the rest of the team, but she wouldn't even know where to start with you.

"well no but, i can learn," she said. you looked a little shocked by her words. alessia felt another stab of guilt.

"so, the wedding?" you prompted, eager to change the subject, "what's the plan?"

alessia began to run you through the itinerary, rambling a little. in her stress over the whole thing, she had managed to commit every little detail to memory. she wanted the day to run pefect for luca and his fiancee of course, but she also now had to contemplate bringing you into the midst.

"to be honest, you don't have to come to the ceremony if you don't want to," she added, noticing your wide eyes as you tried to take it all in.

"well, are your family expecting me to be there?"

"um, well yeah, but-" alessia trailed off. her earlier guilt at not being close to you had now morphed into an all encompassing guilt for dragging you into this whole thing.

"do you want me to be there?"

alessia faltered. despite all her planning, she hadn't really considered that. if you'd asked her at the start of the week, it would have been a resounding no, but as she mulled it over, she found that, actually, just maybe, she potentially did.

"um, yeah, i think i do actually,"

"cool, then i'll be there," you shrugged, and alessia nodded.

"so, i'm meant to be getting ready with my mum, but then we can pick you up on the way to the church?"

"i can meet you there if that's easier? less hassle for you guys, plus it might save us any awkward questions from your mum?"

"i mean, its a good idea, but to be honest i think you'll get questions no matter what. it's not a problem - you're on our way anyway," alessia said, and you nodded.

it was a nice change, seeing you like this. the way you seemed genuinely eager to help, making thoughtful suggestions rather than immature ones. the two of you sat at the table long after you'd finished eating, discussing the plan and making sure your story was airtight.

"personally i still think we should tell everyone you pined after me for months," just like that, your teasing suggestions were back, but alessia no longer found herself bothered by them.

"we're absolutely not saying that,"

"oh come on, you know you're obsessed with me,"

"so obsessed it hurts," alessia mimed an arrow to the chest, and you grinned. she felt a small sense of pride at making you laugh. it was a little unnerving. she turned her attention to more pressing matters.

"you do have something to wear right? i can lend you a dress,"

"a dress? absolutely not," you smirked, "don't worry, i've got it covered - what colour is yours?"

"why?"

"so we don't clash, duh,"

"oh," alessia still felt wary, "its like a navy blue, here i'll show you," she pulled out her phone to find the dress. you gave an appreciative look.

"yeah, i've got a suit that will go well with that,"

"i feel like you're going to show up in something stupid - should i be worried? i am worried,"

you stood up to clear the plates, whacking her shoulder playfully.

"do you need to be going?" you asked over your shoulder as you washed up, "i know it's a late kick off tomorrow, but don't feel obliged to stay if you want to get home,"

in all honesty, alessia didn't want to go just yet. she wasn't too worried about the match, it being an evening home game they were tipped to win, and she still wanted to iron out a few more things for sunday. besides, it was nice to not spend yet another evening alone in her flat.

"i don't, unless you want me to go?" the hesitance that crept into her tone was unbidden.

"nah i'm good. stay," you walked to the fridge and pulled it open, searching for something, "normally i'd offer you wine, but maybe not the best idea before a match," you held out a can of pepsi triumphantly, before collapsing onto the sofa beside alessia.

"only the best for my fake girlfriend,"

alessia took it gratefully, then realised she didn't quite know what to do with herself with you sat in such close proximity. she adjusted her position awkwardly, but it was only a small sofa.

"so, tell me about your family," you said as you switched the tv on, "any weird uncles i need to avoid?"

alessia laughed and began to give you a rundown on all the people you would need to know. she found herself relaxing as she spoke, her earlier awkwardness dissipating. you listened intently. your eyes didn't leave her face as she talked, but alessia didn't notice.

the topic soon moved with ease towards your own family, then you in general, and alessia sank into the comfortable flow of conversation. the two of you chatted for hours before alessia realised the time.

"oh shit, it's pretty late, i should probably be going,"

you yawned and nodded, "oh damn yeah, who knew you could talk so much?" alessia blushed, and began to mutter an apology, but you cut her off, "its cool, makes a nice change," you winked, "you could stay, if you like? it's chucking it down out there, plus it's dark, and you shouldn't walk back alone,"

alessia could get an uber - she had planned to get an uber. logically she should go home, make sure she got a good night's sleep before the game. despite this, she hesistated.

"is that alright?" she asked. you nodded.

"yeah of course, as long as you don't mind sharing the bed. i can drive you back in the morning before the match," you walked off, going to get her some clothes to sleep in, and alessia followed.

you fell asleep pretty much straight away, but alessia found herself unable to do the same. she stared at the ceiling, listening to your even breaths and trying to ignore the way your legs brushed up against hers.

she wasn't sure why she agreed to stay, to sleep in a bed with you no less, but, alessia realised, something had changed this week. she enjoyed your company, enjoyed you. she'd even maybe go as far as calling you a friend. for the first time, alessia found herself wondering what would happen after the wedding. she'd been so focused on keeping up the lie, she hadn't even considered it. the two of you had planned to keep up the lie a little longer, then stage a mutual and unexplosive breakup, but now, alessia wondered if you'd even remain close. what if your actions towards her were simply another part of the act, and once you got your shooting practice in return, would it go back to the way it was? alessia realised, with a very strong conviction, that she didn't want that at all.

---

alessia woke before you the next morning. the rain had cleared up, and the sun cast soft rays through your thin curtains. at some point in the night the two of you had shifted to face each other. alessia realised her arm was hanging loosely over your waist, and she pulled it back quickly.

she wasn't sure how long she'd laid there last night, thoughts racing as sleep evaded her. she lay there now, remarking on how much softer your features looked in sleep. your hair hung loosely over your eyes, and alessia had a sudden urge to brush it aside.

the thought registered with a jolt, and alessia extricated herself from the bed as quickly as possible. she tried to push down the feeling in her chest, point-blank refusing to acknowledge it.

this was bad - what was she doing? she couldn't be thinking like this. she needed to go. getting dressed quickly, alessia collected her things and slipped out of your building without a second thought. it was only when she was halfway down the street that the guilt settled in- she should have left a note or something. alessia settled for a text.

left to get ready for the game - thanks so much for letting me stay, see you later x

---

alessia was already there when you showed up at the stadium for the game. you gave her a wave, then moved to sit by your things. waking up alone had stung a little, and you wondered if you'd done something wrong. you'd thought the two of you had maybe crossed a bridge this week - that maybe you were actual friends now, rather than just accomplices caught up in the same lie. maybe you'd been wrong.

it shouldn't have surprised you. you knew alessia hadn't liked you before, although you were still clueless as to why, and maybe it was naïve to think that could've changed.

of course, the text she'd sent hadn't indicated any problem, it was an entirely reasonable thing to do, and she'd seemed perfectly comfortable in your company last night, but still, a girl leaving your bed at the crack of dawn was never a good sign. you knew with some certainty that, after all this was done, you didn't want to go back to how things were, but you had no clue if alessia felt the same. this could have just been all part of the lie for her.

that didn't matter now though, you had to focus on the game.

---

the first half was electric. alessia played well, if she did say so herself, and in all honesty, it was down to you. while before you'd had great link-up play as an attacking duo, now, the two of you were dynamite. you each ran circles around the defence, anticipating the other's moves with ease. so naturally, when alessia volleyed the ball into the back of the net, it was from a cross you'd rocketed into the box.

she ran to hug you, and you did the same, jumping into her arms and wrapping your legs around her waist. alessia had been wondering if she'd upset you by leaving early, and trying very hard not to think about certain other things, but that was long forgotten. she simply let herself breathe you in, holding you tight as she spun you around.

the game continued much in a similar way, the two of you cleaving through defenders like water. you were 3-0 up at 80 minutes, and still you pressed for more.

alessia took on a defender with ease, pressing into space. she could've attempted the shot herself, but she saw your run into the box. she passed the ball to you, and watched as you put into practice exactly what she'd showed you.

it was a perfect strike. you pumped your fists and made a beeline for alessia, squeezing her tight.

"fuck yes! that was all you lessi, all you," you yelled into her ear. alessia's eyes shone with pride, but the warm feeling that engulfed her was far, far more than that. suddenly, alessia couldn't breathe, her heart beating far more erratically than it should've been. she buried her face in your neck and held you tight. oh this was bad. this was so, so bad. if alessia thought the situation was complicated before, she'd definitely made it a whole lot worse now.

she let go, clapping you on the shoulder as she beamed, choking down the pounding in her chest.

"no y/n, all you,"

---

you were still riding the high of the win, and the goal, as you got yourself ready for the wedding the next day. you'd gone home feeling much better than you had before; alessia's reactions on the pitch seemed to confirm to you that there was no bad blood between the two of you. your heart fluttered slightly at the memory of how she'd looked at you - all beaming smiles and bright eyes.

a knock on your door shook you out of your reverie, and you tried to forget the memory. you couldn't be thinking like that. she was a friend - and just barely. you smoothed down your suit and pulled the door open.

"hey- oh. wow, you look-" alessia stumbled over her words as she took you in.

"told you i had it covered," you grinned, posing a little, "you scrub up alright yourself," you couldn't deny she looked absolutely stunning - it was taking every ounce of your effort not to stare, to keep your breathing relatively normal as you took her in.

"right- um yeah- are you ready to go?"

you nodded and followed her out, steeling your nerves to meet alessia's mum. you ran over the story once again in your mind, and from alessia's expression, you imagined she was doing the same. you reached out to grab her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"calm down, you're breathing like you've just ran a marathon," you muttered as you approached the taxi.

"ah, wow, thats such a helpful thing to say, thank you," alessia's voice dripped with sarcasm, and she didn't even look at you.

"we've got this okay? i'm great at lying," she nodded, but you could still see the tension practically radiating off her shoulders.

"i'm not," she mumbled.

"hey, it'll be fine, i promise. just let me know if you need anything - i just want you to enjoy your brother's wedding, alright?"

alessia nodded again, before you reached the car. you waved through the window at her mum, before sliding into the back of the taxi with alessia.

"mum, this is y/n, my girlfriend," alessia spoke confidently, but you'd spent enough time with her this week to hear the faint waver in her voice. you put on your best meet-the-parents voice as you chimed in - you had promised alessia you'd be on your best behaviour today.

"hi, it's so great to finally meet you! alessia's told me so much about you,"

"you too, sweetheart! we're so glad she's finally found someone to look after her," her mum replied, turning from the passenger seat to smile at you. you could see where alessia got it from.

"well, i do my best," you smile back, "she deserves it,"

alessia groaned next to you, face a little flushed.

"mum..."

"well it's true, honey! you know we worry about you getting lonely up here on your own," you were tempted to slide alessia a teasing smirk at that, but thought better of it. god knows she didn't need you adding to the stress.

"yeah, alright, alright," alessia mumbled, still firmly averting her eyes from yours, "how's luca doing?"

"he's doing well, he's with gio and your dad at the church now,"

alessia nodded and smiled, taking a deep breath in. in a brief moment of daring, you reached for her hand and squeezed. she squeezed back with a small smile. the car fell into a comfortable silence, and you turned to look at the window, watching the cars pass by, and trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

with alessia being the sister of the groom, she was swept up into wedding business as soon as you entered the church. you'd agreed it would be best to save the introductions for the reception, so you slid into a pew a few rows behind and watched on as alessia greeted her family. you smirked a little as you watched alessia's mum point you out to her brothers, who clapped alessia on the back in apparent congratulations. you sent them a little wave, then for good measure, blew alessia a kiss. she sent you a death glare in return.

the ceremony was beautiful, even as a total stranger. your eyes kept drifitng back to alessia, watching as she beamed with pride, tears shining in her eyes. it warmed your heart to see her like this; you knew she was close with her family, but it was nice to witness it in full. she caught your eye in the crowd, soft smile growing when you grinned back at her.

alessia beckoned you over to her side as the crowd gathered to watch luca and his wife leave the church in the wedding car. you slung an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into you.

"happy?"

"very," she nodded, "thank you for coming,"

"anytime,"

you were interrupted by gio clapping both of you on the back.

"not going to introduce me less?" he grinned. alessia rolled her eyes.

"gio this is y/n. y/n, gio," you stuck out a hand, and he shook it before pulling you in for a hug.

"pleasure to meet you, y/n," he grinned, before turning to alessia, "where've you been hiding this one, lessi? took you long enough,"

"fuck off gio,"

"i'm joking, i'm really happy for you," he turned back to you, face suddenly serious, "if you hurt my baby sister i will kill you, understood?"

"loud and clear," you grinned, and he laughed.

"yeah, i like her less, good job," gio walked off, presumably to greet someone else, and you turned to alessia.

"that went well,"

"shut up please,"

alessia was dragged off for photos pretty soon after, so you spent your time milling around the reception area, and taking advantage of cocktail hour. you had a few run-ins with some cousins and family friends, word apparently having travelled fast, but you put on your best loved-up smile, and spent about an hour gushing about alessia. you tried not to think about how easy it was.

alessia returned after a while, making a beeline for you. or rather, for the drink you held in your hand, which she took without a word and downed rather hastily.

"having fun?"

"all anyone wants to talk to me about is you," she muttered, "even luca! you'd think it was our fucking wedding, not his! i need another drink,"

"on it," you said, walking to the bar with a small laugh. you returned with two cocktails, placing one into alessia's hand. she smiled in thanks.

"just one evening, less, you got this," she nodded, already halfway through her cocktail.

"oh there she is- alessia!" alessia groaned as she heard her mum's voice.

"god, here we go," she grumbled, before plastering a smile to her face and turning around. you waved as her parents approached, swiftly followed by luca and his wife.

"this is y/n," alessia said. you shook her dad's hand, greeting him with a smile.

"it's great to meet you," you turned to luca, "and congratulations! its a beautiful wedding, thank you so much for having me here,"

"yeah thank you," he beamed, clearly caught up in wedding ecstasy, "and of course! you're part of the family too now," you nodded, a small pang of guilt at your lies hitting you squarely in the chest, "plus, as if we were going to let less get away with not bringing you,"

"luca-" alessia attempted, but he waved her off.

"she never brings anyone to anything, honestly i don't even know if she's ever dated anyone seriously, we were all so relieved when she said she was finally bringing a date,"

you didn't miss the way alessia's fingers tightened around her glass, or the way her jaw muscles clenched.

"i mean, seriously, we were starting to get like, worried, you know? like we get you're busy with football less, but come on!"

you were concerned alessia was going to break the glass if she gripped it any tighter. you snaked an arm around her waist, rubbing your thumb slightly over her hipbone.

"well, nothing to worry about anymore," you joked good-naturedly, "i'm just lucky she got there in the end," you flashed her a smile, and her eyes betrayed her thanks. she relaxed into you a little, nodding.

"i'm glad, treat her right, yeah?" luca said, and you nodded. you were getting used to these shovel talks by now, "anyway, you guys should probably get in your seats- speeches soon!" he turned with a wave.

being alessia's date, you of course found yourself on the family table, nestled between your fake girlfriend and her brother. luckily, the attention of the group had finally switched back to the wedding at hand, and you gave yourself a moment to relax. all this lying, this play-acting at being alessia's girl, hadn't felt too difficult in the moment, but now that you weren't under the scrutiny of prying eyes, you realised how much it had taken out of you. you tried to focus on the speeches, taking the moment to collect yourself.

try as you might though, your attention never drifted too far from alessia. you snuck a sideways glance at her, watching as she listened intently. her eyes shone with tears as her dad spoke, and so, emboldened by the copious amount of champagne, you placed a hand gently on her thigh. her eyes never moved from her dad, but her hand moved to rest on top of yours. you felt a little giddy at the intimacy of it all, her fingers tracing a pattern against yours. you told yourself it was just the alcohol making you feel this way, but this small private gesture implied otherwise. it wasn't like anyone could see - there was no one to keep up the pretence for.

gio swept you up into conversation pretty quickly once the speeches ended and the food arrived, seeming genuinely interested in you and your life. his plus one, his girlfriend of a few years, joined in, and you spent most of the meal chatting to the two of them. alessia was uncharacteristically quiet, sharing only the occasional exchange with her parents. you longed to know what was going through her mind, but despite the charade, you knew it wasn't the time to ask. it probably wasn't even for you to ask at all. all you could do was watch as she subdued herself, only moving to refill her champagne yet again.

by the time the first dance was done, and the party began in full, you were already feeling the effects of the alcohol. from her more relaxed manner, you guessed alessia was too. the two of you had been left alone at your table, and you took the opportunity to check in with her.

"you good?" there was nobody in your close vicinity, with everyone dispersing onto the dance floor, but you kept your voice low regardless.

alessia nodded and hummed, closing her eyes a little.

"are you pissed?" you laughed. she snapped her eyes open at that, looking at you indignantly.

"no, are you?" you chose to ignore her defensive tone, instead slipping into a wide laugh.

"yep, hammered,"

that got a laugh out of alessia, and she smirked.

"yeah, me too- let's go dance,"

you nodded and let her pull you towards the throng of people. the two of you danced for a while, just enjoying the atmosphere. alessia's parents soon materialised, the two of them grinning from ear to ear. you laughed as alessia's dad brought out the full set of dance moves, glad that alessia seemed to have eased up as well. it didn't last long however, as the four of you soon sank into chairs and began to chat.

"we're thrilled you're here y/n," alessia's dad began, his wife tucked under his arm. you could see why alessia had high standards for relationships. "lessi's always so busy, we never get to see her relaxed like this,"

you almost choked on your drink. you were pretty sure alessia had never been less relaxed in her life.

"i'm sure you'll look after her, we've been waiting for her to find someone who makes her this happy," alessia sipped at her own drink, not even looking up.

"all our children finally growing up and starting their own families, it makes us so happy," her mum nodded, chiming in. at the mention of a family, alessia finished her glass, and turned to you. it only took one look to see the frustration in her eyes. you went to say something, but were cut off by the arrival of a group of people you hadn't met.

"oh my god, hi! you're alessia's girlfriend right? i'm her cousin, everyone's been talking about how she finally brought a date, we had to come meet you! took her long enough!"

you nodded and introduced yourself, shifting your chair a fraction closer to alessia. before you could say anymore, however, alessia cut you off.

"y/n, could you go get me another drink?" you hesitated - the last thing you wanted to do was leave alessia alone in the lion's den. the desperate glint in her eye, the slight quiver in her lip, told you exactly how you she was feeling though, so you nodded and stood, waving a quick goodbye to what now seemed to be the entire russo family.

standing at the bar, you kept your gaze on alessia, who now appeared to be being bombarded by questions. you tapped your fingers impatiently on the counter, eager to get back to her and mitigate the damage. it was becoming increasingly apparent that, although she may have avoided the questions of why she was alone, your presence here had just opened up a whole new can of worms. lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the girl who sidled up next to you until she spoke.

"bride or groom?"

you turned to her, a little taken aback. your identity as alessia's girlfriend had mostly preceded introductions up until now.

"oh, uh, groom,"

"that explains why i didn't recognise you - i'm the bride's sister,"

"oh cool," you smiled politely. the girl's suggestive tone gave you a clear indication of her intentions. normally, you would have flirted back- you couldn't deny she was attractive - but you only wanted to get back to alessia. you glanced back over to the table, but her chair was now empty.

the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, and you took them quickly.

"uh, sorry, i should get back, but nice to meet you," you muttered, before practically jogging back.

"where did less go?" you said, putting the drinks down, and turning to her mum with a smile that you hoped didn't betray your concern.

"oh just to the bathroom love," she replied. you nodded. it was probably nothing, but you had a strong urge to go and check on her.

"oh, i might go as well, could you watch our drinks?" you barely gave her time to answer before you dodged your way through the crowd.

"alessia? you in here?" there was no reply. a quick check determined all the cubicles were empty, save for one very drunk bridesmaid who you had to practically extract yourself from.

you came back out, racking your brain for where she could have gone. catching sight of a door slightly ajar, you stepped outside.

"hey," you began hesitantly. alessia sat with her head in her hands, her breathing shallow. she didn't look up. "you okay?"

you contemplated sitting down on the bench next to her, but the moment felt suddenly very private. it was quite possible that you were the last person she wanted to be around.

alessia mumbled something, but her voice was too muffled to understand. you stepped a little closer.

"what was that?" you kept your voice low and your movements cautious, as though she were an animal you didn't want to spook. she looked up, and your heart broke a little as you took in her red eyes and tear-tracked cheeks.

"why do you care? you're not actually my girlfriend," her voice was tired, resigned almost.

you couldn't deny it stung a little, but you weren't going to let that deter you. you weren't leaving her like this.

"well no, but i'm your friend," at your own words you faltered a little -were you? you knew how your position on the matter had switched from before, but you still held some doubt that she had ever changed her mind about you. your voice was hesitant as you spoke again, "are we not friends, alessia?"

"we are but," she sniffled and shook her head "it's none of your business,"

"i respect that, and if you want me to go i will, but you're upset, and i care about you, and i want to help. i want it to be my business less,"

she looked up at you, properly this time, before burying her head in her hands again.

"it's just- too much," she whispered, a small sob escaping her. you rushed to sit next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders immediately.

"what is?"

"all of it," she exhaled, finally letting the dam break and her words spill out, "i thought you being here would help, that they would finally get off my back, but now they've all just made it even more clear that they were just waiting for me to find someone, yet they're all so shocked that i finally have, like, did they all just think i was fucking lonely and desperate this whole time?"

she paused to take a shaky breath.

"and i was happy on my own, i really was, but they say shit like that and suddenly i'm an insecure teenager all over again- like if my own family expect me to be alone then surely i'm not good enough for anyone to want me, and i didn't know what to say, or do, and i just feel really, really shitty, you know?"

you nodded, stroking her back as encouragement to continue.

"and they all just started bombarding me, and i didn't know what to say without you there, and i just-" she swiped furiously at her face. "and then i wanted to go find you, but that girl was flirting with you, and then i just felt so guilty for dragging you here when you could be out with other girls who aren't a fucking mess like i am, and now you're being so nice and tolerating me when i'm drunk and crying, when i'm literally not your problem and i just-"

"less, you don't get it - i want to be here. i want to tolerate drunk you. i want you to be my problem,"

alessia shook her head frantically, tears still flowing as she continued her rant.

"i'm just so sorry - i've been so stressed all day, everyone has been all over me and i should've been thinking about the wedding, but all i can think about is you, because i know you were faking it today but i just couldn't stop wishing you weren't, and i-"

she stopped suddenly, realising what she'd confessed. you tried to look at her, but she kept her eyes glued to the floor. your heart pounded as you deciphered her words, unsure if you'd mistaken their meaning. you bit your lip, wanting so desperately to say the words that, you realised with some certainty, had been begging to be let out for a while. fuck it.

"i haven't been able to keep my eyes off you all day, alessia," you murmured. she risked a hesitant look up at you. nothing in her expression told you to stop, so you kept talking.

"i know you're happy on your own. i know you don't need anyone to 'complete you' or any of that other cliché crap. and i don't either. but i've got to see the complete you this week, and she's amazing. i haven't faked a second of today. and if i'm barking up the wrong tree here you can tell me to fuck off - you can go back to hating me like before and i won't say another word, but alessia, i don't want to just be your fake girlfriend anymore, i want the real thing,"

alessia smiled, and your breath caught at the sight. your hands shook as you awaited her reaction.

alessia leaned forward, inching closer to press her forehead against yours. her hand found your cheek, her touch as soft as satin. her breath ghosted against your lips as she spoke.

"so do i,"

you closed the gap. her lips were softer than you could've anticipated. they pressed into yours, slowly at first, then with a deep urgency. the kiss was messy; tear-stained and drunken, but the feel was electric. the dam broke on all the tension that had built between the two of you, and every ounce flooded out as pure desire. you wanted her, needed her, with a desperation you hadn't realised you could possess. your bodies curved into each other; the aftermath of every faked smile, every pretend touch, culminating in the most real feeling you'd ever had.

you broke away at some point, hazy and grinning. alessia's breathing was heavy, her eyes shining.

"we should go back. you probably shouldn't miss your brother's wedding,"

"right, yeah, of course," she smiled, wiping at her cheeks to try and fix the tear-stains as she stood. you reached out to help, then pulled back to take her in. you smirked.

"were you jealous of that girl?"

she smacked your shoulder, but there was no bite in it. she leant in for another kiss.

"so fucking annoying," she muttered, smiling widely against your lips.

me saying i'm writing a short fic then posting the shittiest fucking slowburn you've ever read.

anyway, hope you enjoyed! love, hedge xx

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #alessia russo imagine #muwfc x reader #woso #woso x reader #lionesses

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saey707 · 1 year ago

Note

I SEE YOU HAVE ALREADY SEEN "HEARTSTEEL" I LOVE THEIR INTERACTIONS ON TWITTER AND EVERYTHING (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA) It's cool, just cool :') Well, the point is... could you do a Yone x fangirl!reader? (I've been thinking about an anonymous online friendship and then a BIG surprise when they just meet face to face) Anyway, have a good day <3 -🍄

✿ Prompt: You have a chance encounter with Yone ✿

♡ champion focus: yone ♡ tw: none! ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: YES HELLOOO! ૮₍´｡ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ｡`₎ა Thanks so much for requesting! I tried my best to get the premise of your idea in, but I did make some changes to improve the flow of the short and make it more authentic! Hope you enjoy! ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡

You and Yone met through an online board long before he went off the grid- hell, you met long before Yone even became legendary!

While it wasn't the conventional way to meet someone, you couldn't help but become fascinated by him and all the discussions he participated in. It's not every day you meet a (kind) man so invested in the history of Japanese warriors, DJ'ing, cold brew, and meditating!

You've never met Yone in person, but you figured from his messages alone he was either an old man or a kind soul... Even both. Every email Yone sent you was well punctuated and wise. He always knew exactly what to say, to an extent where you didn't know if he was just researching everything he was telling you or was telling you something based on his life experiences!

The day Yone sent a photo to you was the day you were convinced he was an old man now. It was clear that the photo was printed when he took a picture of it. His long, black hair was neatly kept, and he stood tall and sharp in a suit... Not to mention, there were orbs on the edge of the photo, and his eyes were as red as a demon!

You knew, eventually, your anonymous pen pal would stop replying one day, but it still hurt all the same. For years, you wondered if Yone was okay. You wondered where he was now, what amazing things he was doing. You wondered if one day he would ever email you back again... You wondered if he was dead.

"Hey, Warrior! I know it's been a few years since we last spoke. I know you won't respond, and I don't carry any grudges against you for it. I just can't help but wonder: How have you been? Were you ever able to get that red motorcycle you wanted? Are you still DJ'ing?"

That was the first email in years you sent to him... And you couldn't help but find some comfort in having a one-sided conversation. In a way, it felt like it healed the past few years you were left wondering and waiting.

"Hi, Warrior! You won't believe what happened yesterday: I finally got myself to meditate for 30 minutes straight! I'm still not sure how you can do it for an hour, but maybe someday I can get just as good as you. Hope you respond soon. I miss you!"

It became a regular habit for you to email him, even knowing you would never get a response. But maybe someday he'll be able to see what's going on in your life. Maybe someday, he'll open up his emails and respond to you... It's just wishful thinking.

"Have you seen the new band going viral? They're called Heartsteel! Their producer has the same name as you and even rides a red motorcycle in the music video! Isn't that cool? I know it isn't you, but at the very least I can imagine that it is you. I can imagine it's you out there doing great things with great people. And maybe it makes sense to me now why you won't respond. But just know I'm proud of you. No matter what you're doing out there. I'll email you again in a few days. Bye, Yone."

You sent the email, shutting your laptop now.

Waiting in line for a cold brew, it came as a surprise to you when you saw a man in front of you looking down at his phone, not even realizing that the line had already cut down to his turn to order.

You waited a few seconds... Then another. Then another.

Soon enough, you were annoyed. "Uhh, hey?! It's your turn to order..!" You tapped the man's shoulder, watching as he turned his head to you, confused as he shook himself from the alternate dimension his head was just in.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him for a moment, taking in the intricate details of his face. You recognized the sharp look in his eyes. You were familiar with the shape of his jawline. From the moment you got a good look at him, you knew it was him.

And while it seemed as if he didn't recognize you, the moment you spoke, his eyes lit up. It was you.

"Warrior?"

"Deer..."

#saeybaewrites #request #short #heartsteel #heartsteel yone #yone #heartsteel yone x reader #heartsteel x reader #yone lol #x reader #yone lol x reader #yone league of legends #lol x reader #yone league of legends x reader #league of legends x reader

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dronebiscuitbat · 3 months ago

Text

Give me a Reason: Chapter 19 - "Best Freind"

N: U sure ur okay?

Uzi sighed as she crashed into her mattress, body feeling sore and head full of cotton balls. Tessa had just pulled out of the driveway and N was already texting her.

She wasn't sure when they'd actually become friends, maybe somewhere between ghost hunting and getting kicked in the gut she'd somehow made that connection. But she was absolutely not used to someone being this worried.

He'd incessantly asked what had happened for her to get so injured. And she'd incessantly deflected, either saying that it was nothing serious- which was bullshit, it hurt like hell. Or, at the cost of her ego- she lied and said it was an accident.

She just wasn't sure how he'd react to the truth, he'd probably be even more worried then, knowing that someone did this to her on purpose.

Or… he'd laugh at her. Because she was weak, because she'd put herself in a vulnerable position and then couldn't take a little pain an-

N: You can talk to me.

N: No pressure.

N: Just worried about you :(

The new messages stopped that train of thought. No. He wouldn't laugh. Even her chronic cynicism couldn't convince her of that.

Finally, instead of staring at his messages, she responded.

Uzi: Promise you won't say anything? Or laugh.

N: Promise

She sighed, here goes nothing…

Uzi: I got kicked in the stomach, u know how I seemed upset that I knew someone in my math class? It was them.

The reply actually took a minute to come back.

And that was because N had all of air knocked out of him at that reply. She'd been hit? Purposefully? And hard enough to give her a serious injury? Why? She was so nice! And cool!

N: Who?

Uzi: Lizzy, she's a teachers aid now, but she was in my class last year.

Uzi: It's not the first time she's thrown a punch, just caught me off gaurd this time.

Once again, N was floored, a teachers aid!?

N: I'd never laugh at you. But you should report her, she shouldn't be working with students if she thinks that's okay.

Uzi huffed through her nose, a half-laugh that was drenched in a depressing kind of acceptance.

Uzi: It's not like they'd believe me. I'm not exactly a model student.

She sat her phone down and shucked off her jacket and beanie, hissing as her side throbbed dully. This had been such a day…

Her hand instinctually reached for her stash drawer before she even realized, and in another, she was looking at it's false bottom.

As tempting as it was- and it was very tempting. Drug mixing wasn't smart even if one of them was just an over-the-counter pain reliever, and adding a bad trip on an already shitty day didn't sound fun.

So instead she wrapped herself in the biggest, comfiest shirt she could find and grabbed her laptop, maybe she could distract herself with YouTube.

N: What do you mean by that?

Oh right, she'd never mentioned the fact she'd been held back to him, whoops.

Uzi: I was held back a year. I'm 19.

N: Oh wow! You're older then me!

N: Still it can't have been that bad. Failing a class isn't a reason to not belive you.

Uzi smirked, fingers clicking on the keys of her laptop as she tried to find something to watch- settling on an analysis video of one of the shows she was watching.

Uzi: I was high in class and a teacher called the campus police.

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to respond to that.

N:Sorry, got home and had to get up to my room.

N:You were WHAT?!

N: That's a crime!

Uzi: And so is trespassing on JCJenson private property to ghost hunt.

N blushed, now laying on his bed in a grey pajama shirt and pants with dogs printed on them, he held his phone close to his face as he grumbled, she had him there, but that hadn't really felt like a crime at the time…

N: I think you're a bad influence.

N: Also you're deflecting, drugs are bad! And unhealthy!

Uzi rolled her eyes at that, he wasn't the first person to tell her that. But you know what was worse? Dealing with herself unmedicated, without her stash, her head just got fuzzier and fuzzier, and before she knew it… she'd be having a full mental meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which she hated, she never felt like herself during those…

Uzi: Probably. But you see why they won't believe me over miss perfect.

N: Yeah okay, now I'm gonna be worried tho. I don't want you being hurt.

She smiled at that, this boy was so endlessly empathetic, and thankfully, her unloading some not-so-great facts about herself didn't seem to put him off either.

Uzi: Ew, don't worry over me. That's gay.

And yet she couldn't help but make a joke over it.

N: ???

N: how?

N: how does my worry make me gay?

Uzi: It's not manly.

Uzi: Empathy is a girly emotion.

She was snickering to herself, she didn't actually believe that of course, but she could almost see his reaction to it. That stupid, confused and amused smile that he wore when she made a particularly dumb joke.

N: Guess I'm gay then.

N: Cause I'm always going to worry. You're my freind.

N:Best Freind?

Her heart fluttered full of butterflies at that. Is that what he wanted? From her? She was so convinced he'd find someone else to hang out with but here he was, asking to continue this…

Whatever this was.

Uzi: Always knew I'd end up with a gay best freind.

Uzi: u can't borrow my makeup.

N: Awww, but it would look so good on me!

Uzi thought about that for a moment, imagining N with dark eyeshadow, lipstick, and black nails, and she about choked, she wasn't sure if it was funny or weirdly attractive.

Uzi: Dude that mental image.

Uzi: It's so cursed, I about choked.

N: Blursed

N: It's Blessed and Cursed

The conversation continued, the fuzz in her head slowly dissipating even without the assistance of her stash, and it continued late into the night… up until she heard Khan pull onto the driveway at 2am.

Uzi: Oh god, it's 2am. We need to sleep.

N: I didn't realize! We're gonna be zombies…

Uzi: More of a zombie u mean?

N: Yeh. U still in pain? Are u going to sleep ohay?

N: Okay* oof, sleepy fingers.

Even while about to pass out. He was still worried…

Uzi: I'm okay, pain isn't bad. U need sleep N

N: Ok, text you tmmrow, Uzi. Goodnight.

Uzi: Night N.

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #give me a reason #looks at my very much not consistent uploads this past week #i'm so sorry

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taesanluv3r · 7 months ago

Text

pas de deux

hip-hop dancer! kim woonhak x ballet dancer! reader (ft. myung jaehyun & lee hyein as their best friends!)

rivals to lovers, a moderate amount of cuss words, lowercase intended, excuse any grammar / spelling mistakes </3

wc: 7,942

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

“woah look at that, first place gets a cool trophy and everything!”

kim woonhak tells his best-friend jaehyun, eyes gleaming as he looks at the new poster that had just been put up on the school’s bulletin board. “guess that means i’ll be going home with a cool trophy then!” the all too familiar snarky voice is followed by the sound of feet strutting towards him. the boy turns around and is met, much to his dismay, with his sworn rival and arch nemesis, yn ln and her own best-friend, lee hyein. see, the young pair had been enemies since the elementary school talent show. he just couldn't believe that his powerful and energetic hip-hop routine tied with some flimsy ballet. and similarly, she just couldn't get past the idea of her graceful performance having the same score as his repetitive moves. and so, stubborn and arrogant as ever, the competition between the two continued on through middle school and up to this very moment right now, in the heart of their shared high school campus, right in front of the bulletin board.

“you wish!” the boy's friend says sternly, inflicting an eye roll from the rival girl. “no wait, he’s right…” hyein begins, her own eyes wandering off to inspect the poorly printed poster. “it’s a duet competition this time” she finishes, a finger pointed at the bold writing that very clearly said:

star academy’s annual DUET competition. pas de deux, or don’t!

“so?” yn scoffs, “i’ll just have to find a partner to beat you with” her words are sharp, her eyes shooting metaphorical lasers through his own narrow ones. the boy just laughs, adjusting the strap of his bag against his shoulder, “if anyone even wants to partner with such a prissy princess like you” his words make her smile, “aw…” she drags out, clutching onto her satin pointe shoes as she takes one more step closer to him, “you think i’m a princess?” the girl’s eyes are big, batting her eyelashes mockingly at the now fuming boy. the silence had become too loud, the hateful pair cussing each other out with just the fiery looks on their faces. “alrighty then!” hyein says, breaking the tension and pulling her friend out of the petty staring contest. “you’ve got a partner to find so let’s get going!” she continues, tilting her head to the side as she drags the girl away. “good luck finding someone to willingly dance with you!” yn yells one last time, catching a final glimpse of the boy’s middle finger up in the air before he was out of her line of sight.

౨ৎ

“i just don’t get it!” yn groans, head falling against the lunch table as she does so. “why won’t anyone partner up with me?” she turns to her friend who’s busy munching on the mystery meat-loaf that tasted a little too good that day. “maybe it’s because you’re an extremely pretentious prick?” hyein says while simultaneously chewing on her food. “ugh, this stinks!” her voice is hoarse from all the complaining she had been doing, “if you weren’t recovering from some stupid food poisoning, we could’ve done it together!” the ballet dancer whines, playfully hitting her best-friend on the shoulder and receiving a nasty look in return. “not my fault! i didn’t even know the cake was expired!” the girl sighs, deciding not to take all her frustrations out on her friend. “whatever, i’m gonna go blow off some steam” yn gets up, grabbing her pink duffle bag and water bottle. “don’t drive yourself insane, yn. i’m sure your knight in shining armor will come to you soon” hyein assures, still stuffing her face with her lunch. the girl smiles at her friend’s sweet words,

“let’s hope that happens soon, the competition is only two days away”

౨ৎ

“bro fuck this!” woonhak’s feet drag against the marble floors as he enters the classroom. “still no luck?” jaehyun asks, mindlessly stacking up his playing cards into some sort of structure on his desk. “seriously! why doesn’t anyone wanna dance with me? i’m literally the kim woonhak. i’m the best hip-hop dancer in this whole school!” the boy exclaims as he slumps down on a chair, the strength of his words sending his friend’s card structure to fall apart. jaehyun sighs, “dude, maybe if you weren’t such an arrogant asshole, someone would actually willingly work with you. just a thought” he ends his sentence with a click of the tongue before beginning to pick up his cards again. “ugh, whatever! it’s just so stupid…” the frustrated boy hunches over, the contact of his lips against the fabric of his jacket muffling his voice. “why don’t you dance with me, jae?” he suddenly suggests, head tilting to the side hopefully, but his friend just sighs once again. “and what? risk hurting the leg i just finished healing again? nah bro, you’re on your own for this one” the hip-hop dancer lets out one last annoyed groan before he suddenly gets off of his seat, causing his friend to look up at him confused. “where are you going?” jaehyun asks him, wondering why he was beginning to grab all of his things. “to get my mind off things, i’ll see ya later bro” woonhak bids, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “don’t stress so much, man. you’ll find someone soon, trust”

“yeah, i better”

the kim boy doesn't know what to do. he had tried everything, and had asked everyone but he still had no one to dance with. that and with the competition being only two days away, it felt as though the boys head was about to explode. sulking, he wanders off to the academy's sports centre, his feet guiding him towards the dance room at the very end of the hall. his mind is all over the place, he doesn't even think to knock before he enters the room, it's usually empty anyways. the boy is lost in his thoughts for a moment, just a moment before the sound of piano enters his ears.

woonhak looks up, quietly shutting the door behind him as he does so and that's when he sees her. yn's eyes are shut, far too lost in the music to even notice his presence. he doesn't make it known either, watching in silence as she twirls on her toes, arms flailing up and down so gracefully as she turned. his eyes begin to glisten, the sheer passion in the way that she moves, 'has she always danced like that?' her feet tapped so delicately against the glossy wooden floors, her energy was strong, it was fierce and yet so vulnerable, like the slightest wrinkle in her light blue leggings could just ruin it all. the boy is in awe, eyes never leaving as they followed her across the room. her eyes remain closed, the piano number getting faster as she waltzed over to one end, preparing herself for the climax of her routine. taking a deep breath, her arms extend and a single leg lifts up into an arabesque. slowly, she returns into the fourth position, one foot crossing over the other, and her arms resting in front of her lower abdomen. yn twirls into a double pirouette, her arms swinging to her side as she leaps into a grand jeté. she's done it, her killing move that's supposed to win her all the roses, but just before her toes could grace the floors again, a loud thud had shaken her out of focus, causing her to slip against the ground and fall.

catching her breath, the confused girl looks up to find the culprit. her eyes wander over to the mirror, narrowing angrily as she watches her sworn enemy pick up the bag he had dropped just a moment ago. the bag that had made the loud noise that ruined her routine. yn gets up from off of the floor, fixing her leg warmers as she walked over to him. "what the fuck is your problem?!" she yells, not giving him enough time to explain before yelling some more. "i was literally about to land that jeté off so clean and then you just had to come in here and ruin it, didn't you?!" if this were a kid's show, there would be cheap cgi steam blowing right out of her bright red ears. "and you're not even gonna say anything? what are you, stupid?!" her breaths get heavier, partially from the routine she had just done and partially from the immense anger she was feeling. woonhak stares blankly at her, breathing softly before he finally speaks.

"woah"

the girl scoffs, shes at a lost for words, the singular person she hated the most interrupts her alone time and the only thing he can bring himself to say is "woah?!" yn's about to throw a fit, veins popping out of her forehead in rage. he notices, finally pulling himself back into reality. "no, it's just..." woonhak finally speaks coherent words, her eyebrow raises, unsure of what idiotic thing he was going to say next. "i never noticed how good you are at what you do" his voice is hushed, as if he were embarrassed to speak any louder, and his words shock her, a faint gasp escaping her lips. the ballerina's features soften, as though all the anger had left her body in the blink of an eye. "huh...?" she asks, still taken aback. "no, seriously. i don't think i've ever seen someone dance with so much..." he pauses, eyebrows furrowed as he searches for the right word, nodding his head slightly when he finds it. "passion. i've never seen anyone dance so passionately like that. the way you move so effortlessly yet with so much energy...i mean i hate to admit it but, that's impressive" yn doesn't understand where this was all coming from, what happened to the mean and arrogant woonhak, why was he being so sweet?

"oh...thank...thank you" shes never been complimented this way before by anyone, much less by her sworn nemesis himself, she didn't know how to react and all she could do was just stare at him blankly. they held eye contact for a moment, it was different from their usual staring contests though. this time, instead of pure hatred for one another, there was some sort of peace. after about a minute the girl feels reality seeping back into her skull, she clears her throat before awkwardly averting her gaze over to her water bottle that was sitting atop the wooden shelf to her right. "so um...what brings you here again?" yn asks after taking a large sip of water, her voice going back to normal as she straightens out her back to look at him. "nobody wanted to be my partner for the competition so i came here to blow off some steam, that's all. i didn't know you were in here...sorry about that" woonhak scratches the back of his neck and to his surprise yn laughs, the boy swears this was the first time he had ever seen her smile- well, genuinely smile at least. "what's so funny?" he asks when she keeps laughing, his tone going back to it's usual intensity. "nothing. i just...never thought i'd be talking to you like this. you know...with out the whole cussing each other out every two seconds thing? i guess it's just kind of...silly" yn bends down to pack up her things as she talks, woonhak watching as he leaned against the barre in front of the mirror. "yeah...i guess so" he says, trailing off and not really knowing how to continue their conversation. "anyways, i'm done in here so i guess i'll leave you alone now...have to find a partner anyways" the hip-hop dancer nods, watching as she begins to leave. the door shuts closed and the boy is left with this pressure in his chest and a weird feeling in his tummy. an idea begins to simmer into his brain and the boy is left in dilemma. 'no, no, it's a bad idea- no, just do it! no don't it won't work no-' he sighs,

"ugh, fuck it!"

within seconds the boy is running out the door, "yn!" he calls out and the girl stops in her tracks. "what do you want now?" she asks, rolling her eyes tiredly as she turns to face him. "well..." he stutters, mind suddenly melting into mush as he hastily gathers his thoughts together. "you don't have a partner yet, right?" she rolls her eyes once more, "woonhak, if you're just here to rub my loss in my face just get it over with already!" the girl remembers he's her enemy, the atmosphere going back to it's competitive ways, juxtaposing the peace they had before. "no, that's not it- just listen to me" he practically begs, a side of him she had never seen before, intriguing. she takes one step forward, so as to invite him to continue. "the competition is in two days, and neither of us have partners and i saw you in there just now, i saw your talent and i just..." he rambles for a moment and then trails off, taking a deep breath in before letting it out again. "okay, have you ever seen honey 3?" his question confuses her, "i mean yeah...it's one of my favourite movies but what exactly is your point here, woonhak?" yn raises an eyebrow, beginning to get impatient. "melea and ishani hate each other but they come together to work on that show and it turned out amazing! i'm just saying...your ballet and my hip-hop..." he drags, nodding slowly in the hopes that she'd get what he was trying to say. yn snickers, looking down at the floor as she slowly makes her way closer to him. "are you suggesting we combine ballet and hip-hop and enter this competition together?" she asks and he nods almost hesitantly. she lets out a long sigh. a sigh that worries him a little bit. "c'mon its just one competition, and i know you want that trophy as much as i do" the ballet dancer's ear perks up at the sound of the grand prize, her eyes trailing up to meet with his own hopeful ones. "i guess it would be cool to combine ballet and hip-hop..." the moment those words came out of her mouth the boy felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. shooting her the brightest smile, a smile she had never seen before, "so you're in then?" woonhak asks one last time, his now shining eyes full of hope. yn rolls her eyes as she nods finally,

"as long as i get to bring the trophy home"

౨ৎ

"so you found a partner for the competition?" asks hyein as she walks closely beside yn, their arms intertwined as they entered the school's cafeteria. the ballet dancer nods, "mhm and we're gonna be busy working on the routine, so i'm gonna have to skip out on our fro-yo run today" she says and her friend hums in response. "so...who is it?" hyein wonders, widening her eyes with curiosity as she inquires her best-friend. "i'm...i'm not telling!" yn replies, a rosy tint painting the tips of her ears and her cheeks as she did so, as if she were embarrassed. suspicious, hyein thought, but she just sighs, deciding to let her friend do what she must and not really wanting to pressure her into telling. she was going to find out anyways.

on the opposite end of the hallway, the kim boy and his friend are on their own journey towards the cafeteria. "c'mon man, you're seriously not going to tell me?" jaehyun complains when woonhak shakes his head for the hundredth time. "no. you'll find out later, i'm not telling you- you'll laugh" the tall boy says, stroking a hand through his dark hair. "ugh fine...i wonder what's for lunch" his friend trails off as they enter the large dining hall, stomachs gurgling slightly as a familiar scent entered their noses. the two guys exhale in unison, "pizza"

"look who it is" the voice shakes the boys out of their trance. "if it isn't mr. hip-hop wonder boy and...and" hyein racks her brain trying to find a good enough nickname for his friend. "ugh, i got nothing. loser" she says finally, a hint of spite in the way she spoke. jaehyun rolls his eyes, "hyein" he responds, eyes squinting slightly. "hey..." yn suddenly speaks, looking up awkwardly at the tall dancer boy. "'sup" woonhak responds in a similar tone, an arm reaching up to scratch the back of his head. their friends look at each other confused, why are they being so...weird? just then the boy's stomach makes another loud noise, to which he clears his throat in embarrassment. "well um...gonna go eat, see ya around" the usually obnoxious hip-hop dancer nods softly at the ballerina before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving the girl and her best-friend standing there dumbfounded.

"see ya around?" hyein repeats his words, a look of blatant confusion present on her face. "what was that about?" she asks, looking over at her best-friend who seemed to be staring off into space. "huh? what do you mean?" yn asks back, fixing her posture and the fold of her knit bolero that was beginning to slip down her arms. "yn, do you even realize what just happened? that was your literal enemy and you guys just interacted without arguing or trying to kill each other!" the girl's statement is dramatic, over-emphasized, and her eyes are wide like she had just seen a ghost. her friend just shrugs, "so?" her voice is calm, but there was a hint of hesitance. hyein just sighs, taking a seat beside the girl who was acting so very...

"strange" jaehyun states, taking a large bite out of his slice of pepperoni pizza. "what is?" woonhak asks after swallowing a bite of his own. "you. you and yn" the boy is confused by his friend's words, "what about me and yn?" jaehyun sighs, pushing away his now empty disposable plate as he takes a sip out of his water bottle before turning to fully face the other boy. "you guys just talked to each other without uttering a single cuss word, and to be real with you bro, the last time that's ever happened was like before the elementary school talent show" the dancer rolls his eyes, shrugging as he did so. "so what? i can't talk to her normally for once?" woonhak was defensive all of a sudden, his friend taken aback by his attitude change. "i'm just saying man...it's just strange, that's all"

౨ৎ

"okay i gotta get to practice, i'll see you at the competition tomorrow, right?" yn asks her friend, looking up from where she had bent down to tie her shoe. "mhm! i'll be there...i really want to know who you're dancing with- i can't believe you still won't tell me! i mean he can't be that bad!" hyein rambles, her arms crossed over the purple note-book she had pressed against her chest. yn rolls her eyes as she gets up, stretching softly before fixing the strands that stuck out of the top knot on her head. "you'll see tomorrow, i gotta go now. love you, see you!" the ballerina bids her friend goodbye, walking away towards the sports centre. "something tells me you'll see me a little sooner..." hyein whispers to herself as she watches her friend disappear, a mischievous smirk playing against her lips.

"i'll catch you later bro. good luck" jaehyun tells woonhak, turning around to leave as the dancer boy entered the sports centre. his steps are slow at first, lifting his phone up to check the time as he walked. "fuck" he cussed, picking up his pace when the numbers on his screen registered in his head. panting, the boy finally makes it to the front of the dance room, the sound of faint music seeping into the atmosphere as he opened the door.

"you're late"

yn looks annoyed, her forehead twitching slightly as she paused the song to glare at him. "by like ten minutes! relax a little" he rolled his eyes, dropping his back-pack down on the floor and taking off his jacket. "yeah, ten minutes of our precious time wasted!" the girl spat, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. woonhak chuckled, "i knew ballerinas were all uptight but damn, you really are something else" his words are laced with mockery as he begins to walk towards her. she's fuming, gathering up all the strength and composure in her body to stop herself from pushing him right out the door then and there. "i hate you" she mutters, a pout taking over her complexion as she turns away from him angrily. the boy laughs, "c'mon princess let's start this thing before we waste anymore of our precious time" the condescending tone paired with the sudden nickname catches her off guard for a moment, a pink tint that matched her pink track-suit growing against the skin of her face. he noticed it, smiling to himself proudly when she wasn't looking.

"and one, two, three and four and jump down, pop and lock. there you go!" the boy claps as he counts, watching her moves closely from the mirror. the girl pants, bending down with her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. "that was good...finally" he smirks sarcastically, a prideful look on his face when she shoots him a breathy "fuck you". yn stands up straight again, her face is red and stained with sweat from the intense sequence of dance moves she just did. woonhak can't help but laugh, "i didn't know ballerinas could sweat" he teased, tossing her a towel in the process. the girl just sighs, "whatever" but that only fed into his ego, "those weren't even the hardest hip-hop moves and you're already struggling" his words brewed a sort of fire in her veins, "i'd like to see you try landing a grand jeté en pointe" she says sternly, staring him straight in the eyes. the boy scoffs, "your fancy french words don't scare me" she takes this as a challenge, a smirk placed prettily on her plush lips as she throws her towel across the room.

"follow my lead"

he watches as she twirls over to the center of the room, even in a pair of sneakers, yn grows an inch taller as she effortlessly stands on her toes. her arms form a perfect circle above her head as she spins once, then twice before jumping off the ground as though she could fly. without making a single sound, the girl lands right back down on her toes, her heels never once making contact with the wooden floors until she returns to the fourth position, her torso bending forward and her arms stretching back like a swan. the ballerina stands back up again, the edges of her mouth cracking into a proud smile when she looks in the mirror to see the amazed look on his face. chuckling softly, she turns around. "your turn"

locking back in, woonhak's face goes from stunned to arrogant in a matter of seconds. his chest puffed out as he walks over to the center of the room. "watch and learn" he says, eyebrows knitted together as he begins to recall her moves. the boy twirls over before trying his best to stand on his toes, stumbling a bit as he did so. his form almost makes her cringe as he attempts at her signature double pirouette, she winces as he leaps into the jeté, if you can even call it that, on the wrong foot, sending him flying almost stupidly in the air. she could feel the punchline coming, giggling quietly as she pulls out her phone and begins recording. the hip-hop dancer is about to make his landing, his breath hitching softly as he begins his descent onto the floor. for a moment it was perfect, the boy landing right on his toes. just for a split second though, before he slips down and falls right on his bottom and onto the ground.

"ah!" he groans, laying his back down in frustration. yn laughs out loud, walking towards him with the camera right at his face. "stop it" he whined, hands moving up to push her away and then to cover his face in embarrassment. "aw, cheer up woonhak! look, i got you stellar landing on video!" she teases, still recording the poor boy as he rolls around in despair. yn laughs, putting her phone away before reaching an arm out for him to grab and helping him up. "so you agree that ballet is just as hard as hip-hop now?" she asks, smiling in victory as the boy massages his sore feet. he rolls his eyes, "i guess...but in my defense that was probably like an extremely professional move or something!" he argues, not wanting to lose to her. the girl laughs, "whatever you say..." yn pauses to have a sip of her water, trying her best to ignore the way that he stared at her. woonhak shoots her a smile before making his way to the speaker.

"now come on, let's finish this routine"

the next three or so hours are spent perfecting their performance, pausing every now and then to monitor their moves and go over every meticulous detail. when they felt complacent with their practice, the supposed rivals sit down beside each other on the floor, their backs leaning against the mirrored walls as they watched the recording of their routine on his tablet. yn's eyes are sharp as a hawk, not blinking once as she goes through every single second of the duet, breaking into a slight smile when she likes something. similarly, the boy's lips are pursed as he focuses in on the video, letting out little hums every now and then along to the beat of the song.

"aye~" woonhak says as the video comes to an end, clapping his hands in satisfaction before turning to look at the girl to his right who displayed the same pleased expression. "you're really good" yn says plainly, her tone coming off a little shy, perhaps because she had never complimented him before. his breathing gets louder, stunned by the sudden praise. "thanks. so are you" he says quietly, the room falling silent as they sat and stared at each other. the moment lasts longer than usual, it felt like the world around them had just stopped. there was something new about the atmosphere, were his eyes always this bright? , did she always smell this sweet? about a billion questions ran through their heads but not a single word was uttered within those five minutes of solitude. just then, the buzz of her phone snaps them out of their daze. yn shakes her head, blinking rapidly as he clears his throat, looking anywhere but at her.

"shit, it's getting late- um, we better go home and get some rest. it's the day tomorrow so..." the ballerina stutters, something people rarely ever see her do, but he's been seeing it a lot recently. the boy nods, getting up after her and beginning to gather up his things. woonhak waits for her, watching as she carefully puts all her belongings in her duffle bag. he noticed the way she organizes, the biggest things going in first and then all the smaller ones. "okay" yn says, de-tangling her wired earphones as she walks up to him, finally looking him in the eye again. they share an awkward smile before the tension in the room started to feel...silly. the girl laughs softly, covering her mouth with her hand as she did so. cute, he thought, but he didn't have the heart to say it out loud. "c'mon" woonhak says, tilting his head towards the door. the pair walked quite close to each other, making small conversation about their competition that was just one night away. at one point he makes some cheesy joke, it wasn't that funny but it sent the girl into a fit that made her stomach hurt.

they were about to exit the sports centre, his hand already on the handle when a figure (or two?) emerges from the shadows. "HAH! you've been caught!" it's hyein, "so your partner is..." and jaehyun. the supposed rivals' best-friends look each other in the eye before turning to look back at the pair in shock, "YN?" - "WOONHAK?" they spoke, or rather yelled, in unison. the dancers' eyes widen in surprise at the sudden appearance of their friends, her mouth fell open to speak but no words seemed to have come out. "look over there!" woonhak exclaims, pointing at the roof, waiting for his friend, and hers, to look away before grabbing yn's hand and running out the door.

the dancer duo laugh manically as they skipped through the cobblestone of their high school, their feet tapping on the ground in sync as they began to slow down near the gated exit. woonhak tries to catch his breath, his hand still intertwined with hers. yn is the first to notice, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to let go. maybe it was the sunset illuminating against his hair, maybe it was the slight shimmer of his sweat, combined with the giddy feeling in her heart that she just could not describe, but it was perfect. something about this whole sequence of events just felt right.

unbeknownst to the both of them, their friends stayed close by, watching from behind the bushes at the scene unfolding before them. hyein snorts, finding it all to be just so amusing. jaehyun sighs, a joyous look on his face as he turns to the girl. "you thinking what i'm thinking?" he asks, eyebrows wiggling up and down as he did so. hyein nods before her gaze falls back onto the so-called enemies.

"they're soooo into each other"

౨ৎ

that night yn couldn't bring herself to sleep, her stomach swarming with a million butterflies and her mind just clouded with anxiety as she ran through the choreography over and over again. woonhak's night was no different, his dinner felt like it was about to exit through his mouth as he silently danced in front of his bathroom mirror. he could lie and say he was nervous to perform, he could lie and say that was why he felt so uneasy, but the truth was that it was her. no matter what the boy tried to do that night, when he tried to sleep, when he tried to dance, even when he so much as tried to think, his mind would go back to her. yn ln, the so-called arch nemesis that he seemed to be hung up on all night.

eventually though, the dancer duo did sleep. the exhaustion from non-stop practices finally crashing onto their tired teen bodies. a loud beep wakes the girl up, an arm reaching out to turn off her obnoxious alarm. yn lays there for a moment, gathering her thoughts before sitting up, stretching her torso forward until she touched her toes. she yawns quietly as she gets off of her bed, waltzing over to her desk and unplugging her fully charged phone. she smiles softly as she skims through her best-friend's countless of texts from last night, letting out a sigh as a new notification from her calendar pops up.

'D-DAY! take home that trophy, yn!'

over in the neighbouring complex, kim woonhak is woken up by his mother's voice. "woonhak! don't you have a competition to go to?" the woman's words wake him up almost immediately. sitting up straight and reaching to grab his phone from the bed-side table next to him, a large grin takes over his face at the countdown timer,

'just a couple hours remaining! go get em' tiger!'

the rest of the pair's morning was spent preparing for the main event of the day. she took a shower, spreading her outfit out on the bed before taking the time to do her make-up so that it was just perfect. the boy did the same, even taking the time to shave the hair he barely even had on his face. before leaving the house, yn checked her reflection in the mirror, she wore her light-pink leotard and her favourite lilac leg warmers but, to feed into their duet's concept, she wore her hair down and paired her leotard with oversized denim jorts and some sneakers. it was different, definitely something you'd rarely see her in, but it made her smile. something about this new look on her felt good, she felt...

"pretty" woonhak says as he stands before her in their usual dance room at the academy's sports centre. "huh?" yn asked as if she didn't catch what the boy had said, but she could hear him loud and clear, she knew exactly what he said. "pretty" he repeated confidently, much to her surprise, as he walked closer to her. "you should wear your hair down more often" the girl could not believe her ears, her mind going blank as a blush crept up against her cheeks. woonhak laughs at her flustered face, smiling to himself as he passed her and over to the speakers.

"let's run through the choreo once more, shall we?"

౨ৎ

what felt like a split second had gone by and the pair were suddenly back-stage, standing amongst a bunch of other duos scrambling around to rehearse once more before the show had to start. five minutes before the show hyein and jaehyun came by to wish their friends good luck, telling them to have fun and whatnot before they left to get to their seats in the crowd. the show begins shortly after, the mc making a few opening comments before bringing in the first few contestants. yn watches from behind the curtains, her breathing getting unsteady the more she did so. "damn...they're good, but we'll be better, right?" woonhak asks, turning to his left when he hears no answer. "right, yn?" but the ballerina that once stood beside him was long gone, disappearing right before his eyes.

it only takes the boy two minutes to find her crouched down behind an abandoned prop, her knees to her chest and her head resting down on them. "yn?" he calls out softly, taking cautious steps towards the shaking girl. "what's wrong?" woonhak crouches down in front of her, his head tilting off to one side in confusion. he had never seen her this way before, the ever-so-confident girl was...

"nervous?" she nods shakily at his inquiry, slowly lifting her head up to look at him. "i um...i kind of have like...stage fright" the boy is dumbfounded, he looked so lost. how could a star ballerina like yn ln have stage fright? woonhak took a seat next to her, "but you always do so well on the stage? i thought you loved it" he speaks, his tone calm and, to the girl, somewhat comforting. "no, i do. i have no problem when i'm on the stage...it's just the moments before it- like right now, it freaks me out" for some reason it ached him to see her this way. the girl who never showed fear being so vulnerable just for him to see, it made him feel something like a burn in his chest.

"listen..." he starts all of a sudden, moving his body fully so that he faced her. "i know we're sworn enemies and everything but i've seen you dance long enough to know that you've literally got nothing to be freaked out about" the boy's eyes are big when he talks, like he was speaking straight out of his heart. "like those duos out there? they don't stand a chance against us! i mean ballet and hip-hop? they won't see us coming" he ends his short pep-talk with a smile, a contagious one that causes the girl to mimic it. "when did you get so civil? i like this new civil woonhak" yn laughs, finding her rival's switch in demeanor strange. "you make us lose this one and civil woonhak is gone forever" he jokes, earning an eye-roll in return. "well i guess we better win then" she says just in time for their names to be called out through the large speakers that synced with the mc's microphone.

"let's go show them. you know, like the french say..." the boy trails off. "pas day do or don't" she cringes at his awful pronunciation. "it's pas de deux. and no, i don't think the french say that." yn teases, "but yeah..." she shoots one last smile at him before they climb onto the stage.

"let's go show them"

the infamous rivals' entrance to the stage is followed by a round of applause and a couple surprised gasps and whispers. getting into position, woonhak and yn look each other in the eye, mouthing faint good lucks before the music began to play. just as choreographed, the routine begins with a somber piano tune, the girl showing off her technique as she twirls into the ballet portion of the piece. her partner gets into character, moving along with her, their arms and legs moving in sync. the piano music quiets down as the pair begin to circle each other, their feet waltzing coordinately when the musical number gets faster and faster. with fierce eyes the girl skips to the other side of the stage, still en pointe, and he trails closely behind her, catching her in his embrace as she gracefully poses in his arms. the music fades away as the pair stare into each other's eyes, woonhak spins her around once and then twice before lifting her up into the air. yn's arms flail up delicately, her eyes shut and her head titled towards the sky. they hold this pose for a beat, a singular beat before the music changes, her head turning to face the crowd with a cocky smirk and a wink. woonhak tossed the girl down, yn landing right into the starting position of their transition into his style.

the dancer duo part ways, jumping around to hype up the audience for the second portion of their routine. following the beat, they reunite right at the center of the stage, shooting each other a cheerful look before the beat drops and they fall right back into their choreography. the hip-hop tune is loud and up-beat, juxtaposing the previous classical number. woonhak gleams as he does what he knows best, his arms waving energetically as his feet glide smoothly against the floor. yn, who worked extra hard to adapt to his style, follows right beside him, the two of them having too much fun getting lost in the music. coming to the end of the song the boy kicked off the freestyle portion, his legs ricocheting as he finishes his criss cross into a dougie. the girl giggles when he bows down to her, offering the center of the stage for her to show off her own moves this time. yn smiles, taking a moment to let the beat sink into her body before she gets on her toes again. the feeling of doing ballet to a hip-hop track was new, but like all the new things she had experiences these past few days, it felt just right.

yn ends her freestyle off with her usual double pirouette, landing right in front of the boy before dropping into the pop and lock move he had taught her the day prior. woonhak's mouth drops at her sudden dance, head turning towards the crowd who began to cheer all too loudly. the dancing pair nodded at each other, signalling the grand finale of their unexpected duet. to the beat of the song, yn spins over to one end of the stage, opposite the boy who had freestyled his way to the other side. suspense builds as the girl stretches one leg out, her torso bending towards it as she hits the infamous swan pose, hastily getting up on her toes, preparing herself for the grand jeté. she breathes in deeply as she runs, building up the momentum for her final leap. yn's legs at a perfect angle, her arms curving over her pretty face, it looked like she was floating. below her, woonhak had hammer-timed half-way through the stage, striking a pose reminiscent to that of michael jackson's as he awaited his partner's landing. about a second later yn lands soundlessly on the tips of her feet, wasting no time before twirling once and twice, finally reaching his embrace again. the song comes to an end, woonhak and yn holding eye contact for a moment before turning away from the crowd, hands intertwined as they sashayed further into the stage. they stopped, turning back to face the audience as they ended their performance off with a deep curtsy.

౨ৎ

"hell yeah!" woonhak cheered as he and yn made it back-stage. she laughs happily, lifting both her hands up for a high-five, which he gladly returned. the duo shared gleeful conversation as they caught their breaths, heading straight to their water bottles to quench their thirst. being that their performance was closer to the end of the event, it didn't take long before the mc's voice struck through the speakers once more, inviting the contestants to join him on stage for the awarding ceremony.

nervously, the ballerina and the hip-hop dancer make their way back onto the stage of their school's auditorium, waving slightly when they make eye contact with their best-friends in the audience. the pair sat down beside each other along with the other contestants, who were complimenting each other and wishing each other good luck. "the judges have decided, and i've got all the scores right here in the palm of my hand" the mc speaks, his mic ringing faintly at the feedback. "but first, the prizes!" he says, moving to the side to reveal the medals and the giant gold trophy. yn's eyes twinkle at the sight, mouth almost watering at the thought of having such a pretty trophy to add to her collection. woonhak notices this, chuckling to himself at the girl's longing expression.

before long, the mc speaks again. this time, to finally announce the winners of the school's annual duet competition. "at third place..." as usual, he drags out his words, inflicting suspense- and impatience- from the contestants and the audience alike. "hikaru and bahiyyih!" the crowd cheers as the female duo get up from their seat, a short dark-haired girl and a taller blonde who did a modern dance performance. they got up on the podium, being awarded the bronze medals before posing for some pictures. "second place..." yn gets anxious, only two more winners left. woonhak grabs onto her hand, causing her to turn to him confused. he just smiled, squeezing her hand in his own as a means of reassurance. "jungwon and riki!" as the runner ups get onto the podium, suspense fills the atmosphere. the ballet dancer and hip-hop one hold their breaths, eyes shut as if to escape from reality. "and in first place...an unexpected duet..." their eyes open once more at the mc's words, it can't be...

"woonhak and yn! congratulations!"

the world stops for a moment and they find themselves drowning out the sound of loud cheers and claps. "dude, that's you! go!" the contestant behind them says, tapping the shoulders of the stunned pair. alas, they get up, finally breaking into large grins as they make their way up to the top of the podium. "congratulations, you two" says one of the judges as he hands each of them a gold medal before finally handing the boy the golden trophy. woonhak catches yn's envious eyes through his peripheral vision, chuckling before nudging her arm making her look at him. "here" he says, letting her hold the grand prize all to herself for the cameras.

"winner, winner, chicken dinner!" jaehyun cheers as he and hyein walk over to their victorious friends. "congrats guys!" the ballerina's friend says, handing them each a single rose. "spent my allowance on fro-yo...that was the best i could get you guys" she said, scratching the back of her neck. "thank you, hyein-ie!" yn exclaims, wrapping her friend up into a big hug. "no problem, girl. and i'm so proud of you- first place!" the boys laugh from beside them, "damn yn, i guess you really do always get what you want" jaehyun jokes, causing her to roll her eyes at him. "what princess wants, princess gets!" woonhak too, teases, patting the girl's head in the process. "whatever...." she trails out, her eyes wandering down to the trophy in her hands.

"what's wrong?" the hip-hop dancer boy asks, his face softening as he looked at her. "nothing....it's just..." yn looks up at him again, pushing the prize onto his chest. "you keep it" his eyebrows furrow at her words, "no..." he begins, pushing the trophy back into her arms, "you keep it. you're the one who wanted it so bad" she scoffs, not wanting to succumb to him, "no you!" their friends watch in silence as the rivals, if we can even call them that anymore, tirelessly bicker, pushing their shared prize back and forth towards each other.

"fine!" the boy finally says, putting an end to their short-lived argument. the girl is about to scream in victory but is interrupted when he starts to speak again. "i'll keep it....if!" woonhak emphasizes the if, the ballerina gulping as he walked closer to her. "if you let good ol' civil woonhak to take you to the movies this weekend?" what was meant to be a clear statement came off as a hopeful question, the boy biting his lip anxiously as he awaited an answer. she wants to tease him, she badly wants to say no, but there's this pathetically hypnotizing look on his face she just can't refuse. "alright. but only if that means civil woonhak is here to stay forever" she finalizes, proposing an end to their on-going rivalry. woonhak smirks, "why? got a little crush on him or something?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows menacingly as she glared at him in annoyance. "shut up before i change my mind about our date" her voice in monotone now, her face expressionless. "that's not a no~" the boy continues to joke, only stopping when she had balled her hands into fists, threatening to have a go at his face. "okay! okay! i'll stop! don't hurt the face- anything but the face, please!" he pleads and she laughs. "so i'll pick you up tomorrow at 6?" he brings up the date again, smiling sweetly at the ballerina who just nods. "come late and i'll kill you"

"of course, princess"

౨ৎ

"who's civil woonhak, again?" hyein whispers to the boy beside her, watching as their friends get lost in their own world, forgetting about the fact that they were still standing there. "beats me" jaehyun says, "but something tells me they don't hate each other anymore..." the girl nods in agreement, a moment of silence shared between the two.

"called it"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

finally finished this fic! i've been planning n writing it this whole week, i can't believe she's finally done! TT reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated! hope u guys enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3 also if ure a dancer, apologies for any inaccuracies TT

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor imagines #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak

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probablybadrpgideas · 2 years ago

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Weird Dice Wednesday

@maniculum:

I believe they’re still around, and have other lines of dice as well, but at the time I got this die (and a few others of theirs), Crystal Caste was known for one thing: they made polyhedral dice that were a different shape than the standard ones. I believe that’s something other companies do now too, but this was a while ago — I bought them because of a print ad in Dragon Magazine, to give you an idea of the era. Most of the neat little crystal-shaped dice are great; they roll well and look cool. The d4 is actually more intuitive than the caltrop-style ones we’ve all seen. It’s a little harder to distinguish between them because they’re all roughly the same shape, but you get used to it.

But the d20… well, it was pretty much immediately banned from our table. (Okay, “table” is talking it up, I got this when I was a kid and my sibling & I usually just sat on the basement floor for games.) Twenty thin, wedge-shaped sides make it less of a crystal and more of a cylinder. When you roll it, it just keeps going, and when/if it stops, you have to look close to see what side is uppermost. I think it’s pretty unambiguous, but my sibling and our friend C insisted there was too much room for interpretation. The other crystal dice were neat, and I think I still have most of them somewhere, but the d20 is virtually unusable.

I genuinely don’t remember where it came from, and I’ve yet to find a use for it, but here’s a d60. And a d30 of the same design next to it for reference.

@hamlets-last-words: Googly-Eyes

(Yes, they move when you roll them)

@tiwaztyrsfist: Hey, here's some stuff for weird dice Wednesday.

@lost-addict: Yall still looking for dumb dice? I have a d60

#probably bad dice

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simp-ly-writes · 7 months ago

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Betting on Hearts (pt.2)

Cross-over: Contemporary! Peaky Blinders x The Gentlemen (2024)

Pairing: Edward "Eddie" Horniman x afab!Shelby!Reader,

Summary: It has been some time since you had last seen the Duke of Halstead and his business partner, Susie Glass. With the help of your family, you invite yourself to a surprise meeting, striking up a potential deal while dealing with the aftermath of your's and Eddie's earlier encounter. What will result from it all?

Warnings: 4000~ words, mentions of drinking, drugs, and anxiety.

A/N: Thank you for the ask and messages @kyros420! :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | un-edited.

You wear a blue double-breasted blazer, the fabric is wool to match the pants of your suit; the articles fighting against the crisp English weather in early spring. A breeze gusts down an alleyway, crashing into your side as you huff out in annoyance, heels picking up their pace as you navigate the city streets.

Red light. Tapping your foot against the pavement as you look at your watch, still making good time if you don't get stopped at another intersection. Feeling around your handbag, your fingers slip past the cool metal of your gun, locked and loaded- ready for a misadvernture. You sigh out in relief once feeling the double-stapled papers, and with that, a green light flickers above your head as you shove through the crowd and towards the newest "Garrison" location.

Arthur is already making his rounds around the bar, the late lunch crowd has the space filled to the brim. The bell rings above the door as you step inside, smiling at a few of the employees who greet you and point towards your brother currently leaning over a table. Suit a bit wrinkled but his leather shoes freshly polished as he claps an officer on the shoulder, setting down another shot before he spins around your way to the sound of your voice.

"Arthur!" you shout, walking towards him, dodging various bar-goers already drunk on a late Tuesday afternoon.

"No need to shout now, haven't lost my hearing yet," he retorts, loosening his bowtie while tipping his head up the stairs towards his office and the staff break-room. You nod, gripping the banister as you make your way up the uneven stairs. "You really must get these fixed, Arthur. I have no clue how these got approved by the health inspector."

"Says the smuggler," your eldest brother fires back, pausing on the stairs as you crash into his back. He sends you a toothy smile, leg rising backwards as if to kick you down the stairs, "you wouldn't dare-"

"-or would I?' he voices back childishly, leg extending back further as you start to lean back with a grimace.

"Arthur," you strain his name in a tight tone, "I can't believe you are the eldest at times," telling him off like mother used to as his hands come up, leg falling back to the stair before he more swiftly continues the climb. Shaking your head you enter his office, locking the door behind you both. Arthur moves towards the bar cart, "Gin, Whiskey, or lukewarm wine?"

"Do you have tea?" Taking a seat in one of the leather chairs positioned in front of his desk. You cross your legs, a tea cup almost shattering with the force it gets slammed down with into your hands. "Wonderful service," you sarcastically comment, ripping one of the sugar bags placed on the saucer before delicately stirring it into your drink.

"Only the best for family, now why come to me and not fuck off to Tommy like you usually do?" You take a long drink of your tea before setting it on the desk, disregarding his comment and throwing the files onto the table. Arthur leans forward, squinting at the papers before you shove his glasses in front of him.

You watch as he nods along to the printed text, skipping a few pages before falling down to the empty signature line. He taps the dots in a row, eyes looking over the white pages as you level his stare. "You want me to sign this or somethin'?"

"No. Just... need some help is all," you mumble the rest, eyes falling to your lap as you pick at your nail-polish.

"Come again?" Arthur asks, hiding his grin behind the papers as he taps his ear, faking not being able to hear you. "Fucking hell, Arthur, I need your help! There," you huff out, falling back into your chair, gripping your tea as you choke down the rest of it.

"Then help is what you shall receive." Arthur drops the papers on the desk, standing before crouching down beside you. "Happy you came to me for this," he states in a softer voice, head tilted- awaiting your response.

"Don't let it get to your head now," you say back, hating the way the his soft words crack through your anxious-feelings. "What can I do?"

"Can you fit into your old uniform?"

And to think Tommy's house was outrageous- was an understatement, you say to yourself while walking up to the Halstead estate. The gravel crunches under each step of Arthurs boots as you held onto his arm- doing your best not to break an ankle. A swift three hard knocks across the wooden door sounded in the countryside as you took a step back to the sounds of footsteps approaching.

Plastering a smile, you tipped your head towards the member of staff as Arthur removed his hat in greeting. "Good afternoon, sir."

"Afternoon, ma'am, officer. Is there a reason for your appearance here today?" The butler's eyes furrow, examining Arthurs uniform with a raised brow before scanning over your designer handbag, meeting your eyes as you flash him another smile as he quickly adverts his gaze.

You tap your brothers arm thoughtfully, casting your head down, smiling fading. "Yes, we are some of Eddie's friends when he was deployed, is he in today? We would love to see him before my brother here gets called back and my vacation time gets used up."

"Ah, I see. I hate to report to you but-"

"What guests do we have here today?" An older woman comes down the stairs, practically gliding across the tile floors as the staff member prompt bows their head and moves to the side of the door. "Your grace, they are here to see the Duke- friends from overseas."

The woman looks over you both, clapping her hands together before inviting you inside the home. Your shoulders drop once hearing the door close behind you both. "Eddie never told me of his friends from deployment, it is a great pleasure to meet you both, I am Sabrina, Edward's mother. I'm sure you have many stories to share but please, is there anything we can serve you?"

"Thank you for your kindness and for allowing us into your home, your grace," eyes casting down to the waiting chairs in the foyer yet you stay standing. "I'm alright, Is there something you would like brother?"

"No, I'm fine," Arthur comments, eyes distracted over viewing every rare collectable and hand-crafted accent in the home. "Is there any where my brother and I could sit and wait for Eddie? I hate to intrude on such short notice, your grace, but-"

"Oh! Yes, I do apologies, you both must be tired from your travels, Edward always went straight to his room after coming back home. If you will follow me, the study is just up the stairs here." Sabrina leads you both further inside the house as you admire the wainscoting and rich-wood's of the hall. The group stops to a pair of heavy oak doors that groan to open.

The space if further divided into a desk room with a bay-window looking towards the pond as a small waiting space is already prepared with tea and lunch, hot on the coffee table before you. You crinkle yours eyes in confusion, wondering how quickly the staff were able to prepare everything before your arrival. Eyeing the room, a bookshelf is offset against the wall answering your question as you and Arthur take your seats.

Pouring out the teapot, Lady Sabrina leaves you both, the oak doors softly closing behind her as you lean back into the leather sofa, it creaks as you shit your weight, placing one leg on top of the other. Arthur stands, already restless as he unbuttons the top of his uniform and rolls up his sleeves. "Fuckin' puts Tom's office to shame," he comments, moving to stand in front of the window.

You shake your head, opening your handbag as move towards the desk room, settling the papers across its surface and un-caping your pen atop the stack. Seating yourself into the nearby chair, Arthur walks over to you, leaning on its arm- observing your precise actions. Next you place your gun in your lap, safety is on, the weight of the metal in your lap helping to ease your nerves as Arthur sniffles, feeling into the various pockets of his jacket.

"I am fine now, brother. If you need powder, smokes, or whatever-" your hand circling in his face, "you can leave through the staff-halls to outside, just don't take the car."

"You sure, I can stay-"

"I am fine, Arthur. Thank you for serving your role," you say with a smile, reaching up to tussle his hair as he huffs out, mockingly reaching out to mess with your own. The glare you send has him standing straight, casting you a playful wave goodbye as he exits the space. The newfound silence of the room catches you off-guard, the ticking of the clock getting on your nerves as you fix your appearance in your phones camera.

Yet that silence is swiftly broken as horridly-somewhat-hushed voice and footsteps cast down the hall, making their way into the room. You keep fixing yourself up, smirking at the hitching of a breath as your phone clicks closed, falling back into your bag by your foot. "Hello, your grace, Susan," you greet them both, not bothering to stand as they both still in the doorframe.

The Duke is dressed in a three piece suit, a brown with blue plaid running through it. His neck-tie is delicately patterned around his neck, complimenting his handkerchief and light blue dress-shirt. Your smile only grows seeing the distant mark of all those night ago just barley visible underneath the left side of his jaw that current clenches and unclenching, drinking in the appearance of you.

To ensure he remembers your last meeting with one another, you lean your body towards the arm of the chair. Your suit flexing more skin down your chest, his eyes trail upwards, seeing that all-too familiar mark against your skin. He shifts his necktie, eyes refusing to meet you own as he makes his way around the desk, the sun casting an outline of his broad shoulders. Your fingers begin tracing the chairs carvings, your head tipped towards him, you bite your lower lip, letting it fall slowly just as your hand moves from the chair, down to your thighs.

Eddie gulps, eyes now trained on the black metal settled in your lap, pointing outwards in a crude manor as you caress the weapon, circling your finger muzzle. You emit a few soft laughs through your nose, enjoying the attention of the room being casted upon you.

Susie walks up to the desk, footsteps never faltering in precise movements before leaning against the wood. Her hands settled in front of her body, eyes watching your own as you cast her a wink. Enjoying the way her eyes snap away from your own only to return a split-second later, darkly glaring as you lick your lips in delight.

Her grey pin-stripped suit does wonders for her long legs as your foot shifts closer to her own, heels barley touching each other. You hold one another's gaze, searching each others eyes for who would be the first to dare speak. Yet Edward beats you both to the trigger, "I see you have brought forward the contract we discussed during out last... meeting. I hope that your presence also allows for Miss. Glass and I to offer a proposition?"

Your tone loses humour as your sentence progresses, "I am not one to break my word, your grace. Now speak."

Arthur would be lying if he was not relieved to be out of the walls and greeted by the crisp English air. His cigarette smoke floated out of his mouth as his fingertips relished the burn of the bud before stomping out the remaining sparks with his boot. Starting to reach into his jacket pocket, looking for phone a cough makes him fumble with the device, flicking his head upwards- his hair flipping back into place as he glares towards a dishevelled man, cigarette unlit in his hands.

"Mid if I borrow your lighter?" Freddy asks, already beginning to walk over to Arthur, standing at full height as he adjusts his uniform, eyeing the other eldest son from head to toe. "Here," Arthur holds out the metal lighter, a gift from his wife that holds an engraving of their wedding day. Freddy hums out, pressing his cigarette closer to the flame, blowing his smoke away from the two.

"So..." Freddy takes another drag, cigarette dancing between his fingers as he swashes it near Arthur. "...What are you doing here? I didn't think Eddie hired any new staff recently, nor mum."

"M'not staff, here with my sister who is currently speaking to your brother," Arthur clarify, attention now drawn back to his phone, checking it over for any cracks before sorting through his emails and text messages. John had sent yet another cryptic message of emojis and phrases that he couldn't quite grasp.

"I'm Freddy," the robed-man introduces himself, not bothering to stop out the remainder of his cigarette once dropped to the floor. He extends his hand as Arthur looks it over, "Arthur." His hand is smooth, hardly a callus or scar to displace the skin the Shelby notes, yet holds a firm few shakes.

Freddy proceeds to open and close his mouth, trying to start conversation as Arthur turns back to his work, absent-mindedly nodding along to whatever he says before walking away to take a call through the stables. Freddy walks behind him, continuing his one-sided conversation about his newest investment idea that was sure to work this time.

You pick up your gun, going to stand just as Susie straightens beside you, stepping closer to interfere as Eddie raises his hand, the room in a pause to your chuckle. You place the gun in the back waistband of your pants, wiggling your hands in a playful gesture. "A pity, how much trust you lack in me, I did patch you up, your grace," you tease, now walking around the office, hands drifting over the various collectables before setting on a record to fill the remaining space in the room.

You lean against the bookshelves, looking between the pair and then the table where fresh ink stains the papers with the Duke's signature. "So, you wish to give me a undisclosed share of your... medical business for me to manage your import/export AND get you a meeting with the rest of the Shelby clan. My oh my, Edward I know you are new to this business but Susie-darling, I expected better of you. But! I respect your father, I am willing to be lenient with your brothers antics in my industry yet you surely must understand that your side does not hold enough for me to accept this deal. I already have given you my presence for no added cost but this, this is rather silly, for lack of a better word."

Susie flings herself off the desk as she walks across the room to stand in front of you. Her eyes squinted into slits, cutting through your words as you swallow down the rest of your speech. Her mouth is tipped in a rehearsed smirk as you stand up straight, head tilting upwards to look at her. Leaning forwards, you watch as her shoulders tense, foreheads nocking against one another before shifting your head closer to her ear. You bathe in her ruining composure, her manicured hands pulling into fists at her side, you are fed by the chaos of it all as Eddie rounds the desk, watching in need to separate the both of you if necessary.

You lift up your hand, her breath hitching in wait as you place a hand on her shoulder, your lips part as she takes a sharp breath inwards. "Don't make me have to talk to your father about this deal, Susie. I know you can figure something out. You both can, but until then my time has been served here."

You drop your touch from the woman, moving around her towards your bag to pack the contract away yet you are stopped by her voice, commanding you to turn back around to face her. "I will go up to 15% of revenue share and will take the tax of any operations cost for our product's travel."

"20%," you counter-offer with a knowing smile, watching as her eyes flick up towards the ceiling before closing, working out the details in her head. You can imagine the words and numbers floating around her head as Eddie comes to your side, bag and contract in hand. You press a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

"The highest I can go is 18-"

"25% then," you state, making your way towards the door, hand starting to turn the door handle. You can hear their posh mumblings behind you. Eddie fixes the watch on his wrist as Miss. Glass's tone strains, fabric shifting before the room stills once more. "23%, taxes paid, and product for your brother's."

The door clicks open, you can see the hall, the sun dipping through the windows as evening nears. The downstairs lobby is pattering with house staff preparing for dinner, you can her the Lady of the House ordering things around and the familiar gruff tones of your brother conversing with another. Yet you turn around, both of your hands clasped around the handle of your bag.

You allow the suspense to build, the song slowly fading to an end and just as the last note falls. Eddie takes a long blink, Susie grips the back of the couch, "offer taken," you smile at them both and with that, the double doors slam behind you, heels clicking against the wood down the hall as your car dings open. "Lets go Arthur!" you shout into the lobby, his hurried footsteps follow after you as he voices his thanks to the house before closing the passengers door.

"We got ourselves a deal?" He questions, looking at the side of your face for an indicator as you hold solid, turning the car into drive, the gravel crunching underneath your wheels once more.

You don't give him an answer right away, "Put everyone on call for me please." His hand move across the dash, a series of three rings before a Birmingham accent allows you to release a held in breath. A smile coating your lips as you lean back into your seat. "Give me news, sister," Tommy demands, you can hear his children running rampant in the background. "No bath, no!"

"I think you should help your lovely wife before I-"

Johns voice squashes your conversation as he enters the call, "Who's dead, married, or havin' a child? I sure hope its you Arthur, your wife has been looking at Tom's kids with those eyes again..."

Arthur groans beside you, "Fuck off John."

"I don't think this family needs anymore children, we already have three boys," Ada pops up.

"Hey Ada," you greet her.

"Don't you 'Hey Ada' me now, how did the meeting go?" she asks, you can hear the giggle in her voice, the underlying tone that you both would be having another wine-filled event in your living room later tonight.

"Yes, how did the meeting go," Tommy asks, his tone rigid before he mutes himself, probably telling the children off. You can hear the banging of metal in the back of the call, John still at work, you shake your head knowing his wife was already preparing yet another speech about sharing enough time together, 'as a family,' just the same way that Arthurs wife did.

"I got us a deal Tom, yet Bobby wants to see you again. Didn't specify to me no matter how much I pried," you comment with annoyance, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as you wait at the lights, the streets empty yet you had been in your fare share of accidents to know not to cross the lights without a signal.

"Good," Tommy simply says back, "Now go home."

"Already on it," you answer sweetly just as he jumps off the call.

"Hey- I got a few last meetings, we still doing dinner at your place sis?" John asks Ada as you turn down the next street, dropping Arthur off as he shouts his goodnights to everyone before slamming your car door close. You wince, worrying the damage to the body of your car before backing out of the driveway and back towards your place.

"Yes, remember 4pm sharp everyone!" Ada announces and with that, you end the call, sighing to yourself, eyes casting heavy as you exit the vehicle and enter your near silent home. Your pets greet you at the door, their feet tapping against the floor, tails wagging back in forth within your presence.

Coming out of the shower, towel wrapped around your body and head you startle seeing a delicately placed box at the foot of your bed. Cautiously looking around the room, no signs of forced entrance or violence appear. You examine the box, checking each side without touching in case it was a placed bomb yet you feel or hear nothing coming from it.

Slowly you pull the bow away, letting it fall onto your covers as you gently lift the top off and your breath hitches. You see Eddies signature once more, your fingers trace over the dried ink with thoughtfulness as you take in every handwritten letter pressed into the card-stock.

Miss. (Name) Shelby, I owe you many thanks in recent times, for helping to mend on old soldiers wounds, for accepting Miss. Glass's and I's deal, and for reigniting a part of myself I haven't felt in such time. I hope that it is not too selfish of me in asking for more of your time and in requesting for you to join me for dinner within my social circle. Within this box, you will find the dress I owe as I await your answer. Your Grace, Edward Horniman.

You read over the note a few dozen times, a smile only growing as your cheeks warm. Pressing the card to your chest, you catch the faintest scent of his cologne coming off the card as you chuckle through your nose at the detail. Setting it delicately on your bedside table, you pull off the paper to find an elegant dress. You pull it out, letting it unravel to your feet as you spin around to the mirror, inspecting it over your body.

Stepping back you curse out, picking up your foot abruptly with a hiss. Looking down a small pin, a set of two birds looks up at you, gleaming in the warm lighting of the room. You settle down on your knees, picking up the accessory while looking back towards your closet where the original dress hung, freshly washed yet still stained and you didn't have the heart to rid yourself of it.

Looking back towards the nightstand, your smile only grows before you are dressing yourself and darting to find your handbag. A small business card poking out between the papers. Oh Edward, you sigh out to yourself, already pressing the numbers into your device.

The phone rings, anxiety starts to overtake you as you walk up and down the halls before moving back into your room- worried to waking any of the staff within the residence. "This is Edward," his baritone voice fills your ears as you look out your window, fingers playing with the bottom of your shirt.

"Hello, your grace," you tease out, doing your best to hide the growing giggles overcoming your anxiety, filling up with excitement as you bite your lip.

"Hello, Miss. Shelby. I do hope this call means well..." His voice trails off just as yours starts once more, "It will if you can answer something for me?"

"Anything."

"Can you take the dress off me too?"

↳ Taglist: @daffodilstark @leavemeslowly @iamasimpingh0e @kneelarmhstrung @surazim @milllieeee

↳ A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this!!! I am running out of ideas, I have a few sentences for different ideas but cannot come up with something I am happy with for an episode-by-episode series... always open for ideas like usual!

#eddie halstead x reader #x reader #eddie x reader #the gentlemen #the gentlemen x reader #netflix #the gentlemen netflix #fanfic #fanfiction #simp-ly #simp-ly-writes #eddie horniman #eddie horniman x reader #edward horniman #edward horniman x reader #the gentlemen 2024 #peaky blinders #the gentlemen 2024 x peaky blinders

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avocado-writing · 1 year ago

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Yello! I want something fluffy but funny so I thought I’d request an aziraphale x crowley x reader where the reader is tech savvy, and by tech savvy I mean just basic knowledge of gadgets and such, but to crowley and aziraphale, tech savvy. Reader introduces them to a lot of gadgets and they’re both so amazed.

Bonus points for nina and maggie confused in the background because it’s literally just basic things but crowley and aziraphale act like it’s fucking magic (also ik crowley has a smartphone, but still!)

notes: I love this request so much. I really enjoyed writing it! (And don’t worry just because Crowley has a smartphone doesn’t mean he actually knows how to use it, take a look at almost any person above the age of 60)

pairing: aziraphale x gn!reader x crowley

rating: G

“Darling, the printer isn’t working.”

“Have you tried pressing ‘Control + P’, Aziraphale?”

“Yes. It’s not doing anything, devilish thing.”

You sigh, put your book down, and head over to your angel’s desk. He’s trying to print out a screenshot he’s taken of a picture you sent him the other day. It’s a cat meme. He’s rather taken with them, and likes to have copies to look at across the bookshop. You have explained he can just save the image itself but he doesn’t quite seem to understand that.

“Ah you see Aziraphale, the problem is that you haven’t actually turned it on.”

“Oh!” he exclaims as you reach over to the power switch. The printer lights up and begins to spit out a dozen copies of the image Aziraphale has now lined up in its queue. As you try to force it to stop, Crowley saunters up behind you.

“Can you help me get these to connect? They’re not—”

“Yes, one second,” you say, thumping the machine as it makes a sharp noise, and handing a pile of print-outs to Aziraphale. “Headphones again?”

Crowley nods, a little petulantly. You fish out the buds and put them in your ears, waiting until you see they’ve connected on the Bluetooth.

“Here,” you sigh. You wonder if any of this is actually worth it. Yes, it’s nice for the three of you to have a group chat, but having to constantly remind them that most of these devices have to be connected to electricity is grating on you a little.

“Oh, I’ve just got a message from Nina on my mobile telephone!” Aziraphale announces. You see him pause over the passcode screen and you brace for him to ask you what it is, again, but he remembers at the last second. “She asks if you can go over and help with the tills, she says they’re… well, I’m not going to repeat what she’s written here but in nicer terms they seem to have broken.”

“Aziraphale please stop telling her that I’m some sort of tech genius. I’m not. I just know how to press buttons correctly.”

“Come on, believe in yourself,” yells Crowley. You roll your eyes and take out one of his headphones.

“Crowley, I can hear you over your music! You don’t need to shout!”

He sniffs. “It’s a podcast actually.”

“I can tell her that but she might be disappointed,” Aziraphale says, looking at you with Those Eyes. He’ll win, he’ll always win, because you can’t say no to him. You groan.

“Alright. Tell her I’m on my way - but not to get her hopes up!”

Aziraphale beams at you. As you leave the shop, the printer tells him it’s run out of ink, so he goes about ordering an entirely new one off the internet.

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker @ilyatan @civil-groupie @foolishprincipalitee

#aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader x aziraphale #crowley x reader #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #request

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hestzhyen · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 58 Welp Posting

Hello kind void. Short (for me) yap this time... it's mostly just pain this chapter, after all. So much pain.

Very rough TL of the editor's notes:

First page: 漆羽の命滅契約は一体…? [Uruha no meimetsu keiyaku ha ittai...?!, What in the world happened to Uruha's lifelong contract...!?] Last page: 信念のもと漆羽を殺めた座村を前に… [Shinen no moto Uruha wo ayameta Samura wo maeni..., Standing in front of Samura, who killed Uruha due to his conviction...] Google Translate or DeepL can probably do better than me on this one, so go ahead and copy/paste that text into one of those instead for a better idea. Just note that 漆羽 (Uruha) usually gets auto-translated to "Urushiba" and 座村 (Samura) to "Zamura".

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Pregame Mini Meta Rant: If I hear a SINGLE complaint about how many panels were reused this chapter Imma get heated. Yeah, there's been a lot of copy-crop-paste stuff going on in the past two weeks. This chapter alone re-used Hakuri's exhausted seal pose four times. But the major scenes still hit hard as fuck and the new art is holding up. Let the author do what it takes to avoid burnout and health issues just as his series is getting the major promotion treatment, okay? Dude's had to do a lot of extra work recently with the cover and colour pages in addition to the usual volume redraws and accompanying filler sketches/doodles.

These chapters were probably being written and drawn about the same time as the extra materials. It's not like the author starts drawing on Monday and sends the chapter out by Friday so it can be published Sunday- they're finished weeks in advance before they're released. I recommend checking out a short manga called The Right Way to Make JUMP! by Takeshi Sakurai if the practical details of getting manga out to thousands of readers in both print & digital simultaneously every week seem interesting!

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Uruha vs. Samura

I interrupt this ramble before it even begins to do a little celebratory dance. I got most of what I yapped about last chapter right for once! Yay! ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪ I won't have to recap the Samura motivation/mindset yap with the new information! (This will probably never happen again.)

Anyway...

Let's start with this because fuck it was so cool and sad.

I love how every character in this manga holds fast to their convictions, man. But I didn't expect Samura to be so cold about killing his former apprentice y'know?! Not even a hint of remorse from this guy. Between this and the subdued greeting Uruha gave him, the lack of warmth in their dialogue together... I wonder if they had a positive relationship. Uruha certainly respected Samura's skills but the contrast between how he thinks about Kunishige and the man who presumably taught him everything he knows about fighting is striking, isn't it? He was pretty unemotional about having to duel his master to the death despite being such an emotive guy. Yet now we'll probably never know... (sigh).

Here's something I missed on my first read: Samura didn't use Tobimune to face Uruha; he was just the quicker draw with a regular katana.

His sword is closer to being sheathed, while Uruha's sword is still farther out.

In case anyone still wants to believe that Uruha is alive or can come back somehow after this... more power to you. The Sojo copers can probably give you some tips if you need them. But there is one small smidgen of comfort to be had, if one wants to interpret it as such.

Not using Tobimune can be read as respecting Uruha's determination and facing him on equal footing. I know he unnecessarily double-tapped Uruha when he was laying on the ground- he didn't need to slash the guy again with Tobimune to make the kill. I get it, the Enchanted Blades are tools of death. Just let me have this. I need it.

Uruha deserved better. He deserve to live, dammit. I didn't get nearly enough of him. But what a way to go. Standing up for what you believe, your dead (boy)friend's last words telling you to live no matter what running through your head. Fighting for your life to honor his wish even though it's a completely lost cause... fuck what a tragic character. He was such a passionate guy despite the losses he suffered. Uruha, man... I really wanted to spend more time with him, but I guess all we'll get of him are flashbacks about him from other people or during scenes recounting what happened in the war.

The worst part of saying goodbye is that it felt like we had so much more to see and learn about him. His story's incomplete but it's over all the same. That's what hurts most when authors kill these characters- the sense of real loss because of all the loose ends. Anything we learn about him will be retroactive for context. No more growth, no more silly faces... damn you Samura...! Fuck this author makes good villains in a short span of time.

Whatever incident was covered up 18 years ago has to be incredibly awful to drive Samura to become an avenger for the truth. I'm talking "establishing a whole fucking international court system to process it for over a decade" levels of bad. Which it may well be, if this flashback from Sojo's PoV in chapter 8 remains unchanged when we revisit it for context:

Hello, probable war crimes.

Yeah I'm banking on that mystery kid being Magatsumi's current wielder. Whether he was a child soldier or picked up the sword by accident somehow, this might be the clue to The Incident that turned Samura against his allies. The point about how anyone can use the Enchanted Blades is made repeatedly during and after the Sojo arc- why not a child? Covering up a massacre like that would be in a lot of people's interests.

Unfounded spitball theories aside, now that Hakuri and Chihiro are both clued in that some real bad shit went down, we can expect to learn more about it. Hopefully sooner rather than later because I'll definitely be judging the shit outta Samura based on how awful it is. I'm very interested in his moral dilemma but I've got unreasonably high standards as to what kind of event could drive someone to do something so awful (in fiction, at least). IRL people are messy, but fiction demands justification. And the way this incident is being hyped up makes me believe it's different from the other horrors of war sinking in and slowly driving someone to resent everything they did for the cause. Whatever the Bearers and the Kamunabi covered up is going to cast them all -Kunishige included- in an extremely unflattering light.

Burnout

He just looks so cute being carried like that even though he's so exhausted and roughed up…

... Yeah. Poor Hakuri.

I won't take up as much space here as I want to yapping about him because most of it's just retreads of things I've been saying for weeks already. But man. Man.

This guy awoke to his powers, killed his dad and brothers, put an end to his family's cruelty, saved a bunch of lives at great risk to himself, passed out, and woke up to try and do this crazy mission with Chihiro all in just over 24 hours. He's so fried he fell asleep while being carried piggy-back and can't even move any more! But he's still kicking himself for not summoning Kumeyuri for Uruha when he had enough adrenaline to sort of stand up on his own. Never mind the brain haemorrhage- he's got lives to save. Ms. Makizumi's words about pushing himself too hard being dangerous just go in one ear and out the other. These people want him to care about himself for the mission and because he deserves it but he just refuses to take it to heart...

Then the person he promised to protect is killed in front of him right after he made it his life's mission to prevent exactly this sort of scenario.

Fuck.

Can't even turn this into a ship moment I'm so bent out of shape. Someone strip me of my fudanshi creds.

It looks like Hakuri did summon Chihiro in a panic after all- he couldn't even call out to Uruha so reaching for Chihiro instead was his first instinct. He just wasn't fast enough because his body and mind are on the brink of totally shutting down. If he's truly unable to use sorcery again after finally gaining his own strength at long last... oh, that will hurt so bad. I'm not ready for how hard Hakuri's going to be on himself when he eventually wakes up despite doing his very best.

Hakuri's gonna be out of commission for sure after this event.

I'm close to 100% positive he'll temporarily lose his powers now. If it comes to be, then Kagurabachi will have passed my bullshit "don't say they'll die if the consequences don't match up to the risk" test. Being paralyzed and powerless for a while is good enough to convince me that death really was a possible outcome. See, it's really that easy. Totally not unfair and arbitrary.

Regardless, there's a lot of suffering ahead for Chihiro and Hakuri. Not only did all of this shit go down the day right after the Rakuzaichi, but there's still whatever the blood test will reveal hanging out there... the political and practical price of this failure with the Kamunabi... processing the guilt of not being able to save a life... coming to terms with how much they don't know... so much has happened to them in a short 24-ish hours, huh? And neither of them have anything good to look forward to in the short-term.

I gotta wonder what Hakuri will do this arc if he's literally unable to move for a while. His PoV gave us the info that there was a specific incident that was covered up, but that doesn't mean he'll be involved in that plot line. But let's save that stress for another time- gotta see how badly he fucked himself up and how things shake out between Chihiro and Samura first.

Chihiro vs. Samura

(Ch. 50) A long-awaited reunion.

What will go down next week? I'm sure as hell not gonna try to guess. Could be anything from casual conversation to an actual skirmish. At least one thing will definitely not happen though.

Neither Chihiro nor Samura are dying here. Chihiro cannot die until the last fight in the series is finished, so that's out (boo joyless nerd take no fun booooooo). Samura's simply too strong to go down to an exhausted Chihiro and we still have to learn the history behind his motives. So he's gonna stick around for a bit longer to cause trouble. Wouldn't be surprised if he's the arc boss! Hiruhiko's got his own training arc ahead of him and all (and some arms to reattach), so he'll be more of a recurring villain than someone to defeat as a character growth moment for now. It's looking like Samura vs. Chihiro for the foreseeable future IMO.

If I can reveal a selfish hope, I want Samura facepalming Chihiro and feeling the scar to be the means of getting insight on how he feels about Chihiro's situation. Samura's probably the one who tipped off the Hishaku about Kunishige's location thanks to accidentally finding out when Momma Shiba took Chihiro to the local festival. Oh boy, if Chihiro learns that Samura was the one that sold him and his dad out... that would be some incredibly potent angst. His hero, a monster? Say it ain't so. Would have told you sooner if I could, Chihiro.

Hm, Kunishige and the Bearers who were entrusted with his vision...

(Chapter 1)

(Chapter 9)

(Chapter 58)

I feel confident in thinking that Samura is basically Bad End Chihiro now. He's been tormented by guilt for nearly two decades and has decided to do everything himself. He'll kill his former comrades and the Hishaku or go down swinging- and kill himself if he actually succeeds. He's on a doomed mission to scorch the earth and take out as much evil as he can. All scum go to hell! Including the guy who's so mired in grief that he does a lot of murder to cope. Those scars of his don't look like tear tracks in some shots for nothin'. (Wait, wasn't I talking about Chihiro for a bit there?)

Chihiro's well on his way to following Samura's path already... he's not the type to kill his comrades, but he's definitely got the "guilty sinning avenger" thing going on strong. So if Samura is Chihiro's "Bad End", what will he force Chihiro to realize? Every major foe reflects a part of Chihiro back at himself and forces him to answer difficult questions, after all. Sojo- forced him to accept that there are multiple ways to interpret and use his dad's legacy

Kyora- forced him to look at his own devotion to his dad's legacy and admit he doesn't know as much as he needs to

Hiruhiko (round 1)- forced him to admit that he thinks of himself as a monster for the lengths he's willing to go to

As for Samura, I think it'll be along the lines of "is it necessary or justifiable to sin and/or commit oneself hell for the sake of a cause?". Maybe "can I be redeemed at all?" (or if redemption is even necessary in the first place). Legitimately can't wait to see what goes down between them next week to get more clues! God I love this manga so much. I haven't been so consistently engaged week to week like this in ages.

...One last thought. This is probably looking too far ahead as an angst merchant and I was rightly rebuked for mentioning it. I should know better than to share the worthless depressing bullshit that goes on in my head. But these posts are supposed to just be some yaps into an ambivalent abyss so... sorry, kind internet void, but you get some of my depresso espresso.

"The least I can do is refrain from causing harm to others and take you Hishaku bastards to hell with me." - Chihiro (ch. 53)

With all the deliberate parallels drawn between Samura->Chihiro and Uruha->Hakuri, I wouldn't be surprised if our favourite protagonist/deuteragonist pair has the same exchange later down the line. Definitely not under similar circumstances! I can imagine scenarios where Chihiro is trying to kill Hakuri but they're so far removed from canon that they make absolutely zero sense.

But there could well be a time where Chihiro decides to leave because he really does need to bear this burden alone and Hakuri tries to call him out on the ridiculousness of that mindset. I think it would be a happier result for Chihiro and Hakuri compared to Samura and Uruha if only because Chihiro isn't as far gone as the blind traitor rat is. But yeah I'm just sticking that in my back pocket to see if it manifests in the future.

Time to write some hurt/comfort and hope canon eases up on the pain soon. It's either that or setting up a bingo sheet with all the angst scenarios I've got written down in my drafts and notes... I choose the one that I can create my own happy ending for. Until next time, dear void.

#kagurabachi #Imagine how awful it would be if Samura left and there were no “trustworthy” witnesses to prove that Chihiro & Hakuri didn't murder Uruha #I hate Samura as the traitor because it denies us a follow-up on the scent gag with Chihiro “reeking” of Hakuri #Definitely got my priorities in order #Listen I'm still trying to cope with Uruha's death so there's gonna be some yaoibachi bs in the tags for a bit I'm sorry

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tossawary · 9 months ago

Note

I think SVSSS as a 2D cartoon would be the best moving medium for it imo.

I mean, personally, yeah, that's how I'd enjoy seeing it as well! My ideal slightly pretentiously artsy SVSSS screen adaptation would probably look only a little more detailed than linograph prints (2D or shaded 3D?) (someone hit me up in like two weeks to draw an example of what I mean, if I don't remember on my own, I don't have access to art stuff right now), very stylized and vibrantly colorful, because that's one of the art styles that I particularly enjoy.

I'm not a personally a fan of the 3D SVSSS show because I find the characters a little too doll-like and same-facey for my tastes? It's fine! It works! It's serviceable! It's just all, backgrounds included, a little... safe? I tend to like over-the-top bright colors and intricate details and impractically weird shapes and yet also coherent world production design in my fantasy, which is a lot to demand of any production, perhaps especially with animation productions, which are always squeezed for time and money.

(EDIT: I know the SVSSS show was under heavy constraints and the results are impressive considering their resources; it doesn't change the fact that I just don't like the art style and nevertheless find the results underwhelming. I don't like a lot of "realistic" modeling / rendering styles, not just "anime" ones, even if they are extremely technically impressive. Believe me when I say that I know the vast majority of the entertainment industry is overworked and underpaid and creatively restrained.)

Slightly tangential general note: I don't think 2D is inherently superior to 3D (EDIT: NOT trying to imply asker is saying this, just having some general thoughts), especially because, with the realities of production, each have their advantages. 2D has a lot of stylistic advantages still, but 3D shaders are catching up and doing some incredible things these days! More advanced puppet controls and particle effects and such are doing some beautiful things for 2D shows as well these days. A lot of stuff has been subtly mixed media as soon as 3D became possible. It is potentially possible (note: not saying any studio would actually greenlight this) to do an equally slightly weird and artistically stunning 3D SVSSS show, given the freedom to work. (Good boarding and writing is also sooooo important in both mediums, obviously, it's not just about the art design. You can get away with incredibly limited animation with good boarding, writing, and art design.)

Another slightly tangential ramble: both 2D and 3D have the potential for stiff animation and poor character acting, which also comes down to production limits and animator skills? (I often think of character animators as a type of actor!) There are a lot of 2D shows that I don't really like because I find the animation incredibly stiff, both puppet and handdrawn (there's great 2D puppet stuff out there these days), which pretty much always comes down to production limits (deadlines and budget and software, saving up their animation for the coolest scenes). One of my favorite things about Studio Ghibli films (which as features get a lot more space to focus on art compared to the demands and restraint of television) has always been the squash and stretch in otherwise relatively realistic action, making things like hugs look SO nice for example. But 3D stuff is getting better at that these days! The ways characters slumped into each other in "Nimona" for example was great. And it's just fascinating to look at the elasticity / stylized sculpt of expressions in "Puss in Boots: The Last Wish" compared to the technical limits of the models / rigs in "Shrek" or "Shrek 2".

Adding these side notes because I want to be clear about my respect for both 2D and 3D artistically! A lot of video games are doing cool stuff in 3D that looks very close to 2D with stylized shaders, which you can sometimes spot by the large or small rotations in character action / acting, which is difficult (and therefore often expensive) to do in 2D with all of those extra drawings / angle poses. Also, I think the current push towards funky shaders in 3D is so cool and it's hard not to gush about them!!!

#foreverliminal #tossawary svsss #ask tossawary #long post #tossawary watching

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lemonnsss · 7 months ago

Text

Moral of the Story: Chapter 8

Warnings: Mild tangent based off of an actual conversation I had (I'm actually from D.C. so this was fun), one singular bad pun- it deserves its own warning, and probably strained warning.

Feedback is always appreciated

MotS Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.8k

“Apologies but until you had agreed and were here it was still considered confidential.”

“O-okay, um, where- or how should I start?”

The director stood across the bed from me, eyebrows furrowed, the room filled with silence apart from the constant, steady beeps of the machinery.

“How the hell should I know? You’re the one with the super-abilities.”

“Right, sorry, that was dumb. Do you know if any of his internal organs were damaged when he went under? Or have you had the chance to run any tests yet?”

“I’m sorry, what crash are we talking about?” Tony said, still standing in the doorway.

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance before responding, “When the Captain here decided to take a trip twenty thousand leagues under the sea he was in a, shall we say, pseudo-nazi aircraft with a fixed route on its way to the states. His options were to let the ship take its course and let millions die or take a nosedive, he took the latter, rather obviously. Speaking of,” the attention turned to me, “how did you know that?”

“Sir, I’m a licensed teacher from pre-k to high school- I’m not by any means immune to misinformation; although, I do have a bit more knowledge on the topic than most people- not to mention my…” my mind trailed off for a moment before coming back, “former colleague taught history, rather fitting as he lived through it, too.”

His one eye began to look me up and down, “Remind me, where did you work last? Aside from with the X-Men that is.”

There was an uncertainty in his voice that made the agents who went down the elevator with us glance at each other nervously. What I had seen twice in my less-than-a-day stint of knowing this man seemed uncommon or unsettling for those who had known him longer.

“I don’t believe I said. Besides, doesn’t your file on me say?” We were both fishing for information, a push and pull I’d grown adjusted to on the flight over.

He remained silent, motioning one of the residents to come over.

“S-so we ran s-some tests-,” he took a moment to breathe and calm himself down, he spoke with a light stutter, likely to have been more prevalent in his earlier years. It sounded like he had gotten speech therapy, and was likely better, nervous, but better, “a lot of the scans were, well are, useless. His blood, everything about him really, was frozen, barely mobile. So the extent of the internal injuries he potentially sustained upon impact is uncertain. I sent for some new prints of the scans we took last week, but they haven’t come in yet; they’ll probably arrive today but it’s pretty touch and go sometimes.” He finished talking with a meek smile, likely proud of how he handled the situation.

“You did the scans last week and they’re only coming in today?” I could feel the look of confusion that overtook my face, he chuckled lightly and rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, we don’t have the equipment to produce the scans here so we send them over to the hospital over in Takoma Park to print- they have the most up-to-date machinery, and they were the only ones willing to work with us privately- so it takes a bit of time.”

“Perks of D.C., eh? Either have the most outrageous tax or go out of district.”

“Exactly! Say, did you grow up ‘round here?”

“No, up in Salem. I used to teach. I planned enough ‘government trips’ to last a few lifetimes.”

I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter a few “cool” s under his breath before he spoke up again, “It was nice getting to talk with you, but I kinda have some other patients I gotta check up on.” he moved by Fury, a “sir” slipping out as he passed and a little wave to me as he left.

The four who accompanied me in the elevator looked at each other, all but Tony practically questioning if this was normal for me.

The director cleared his throat, calling my attention back over to him, "When can you start?"

"Oh! Any time. I was only wondering how badly he was hurt so I can give you my best estimation for how long it'll take me to finish this."

“Will this not be a one-time excursion?”

“...No? Not likely.”

I was done with conversing, done with this nonsense. Placing my hand on the captain’s chest the area where we touched began to glow with a golden hue- I’d always been told my eyes did the same. It was unlike healing Tony a year ago- I didn’t have to rush, it wasn’t life or death- I could take my time and triage.

His biggest issue was hypothermia, unsurprisingly. I felt the cold move through his body to mine. A deep chill settled in my bones.

I pulled away, “Do you know if there’s a heating pad somewhere? Or something like it?” I hadn’t looked at them, afraid of how they would react. A few seconds of silence passed before I turned to them- Tony looked confused, maybe he didn’t see what my powers looked like, and he probably had some blood loss going on at the time; Fury stood unwavering with the smallest tent in his brow, but then again who could read him; the male agent who’d gone with us was standing, mouth slightly agape; and the female agent was gone slipped out without a sound- weird.

She looked like she’d be the ‘hard-ass’ type despite her being, what, 5’3”-5’4”. She was maybe Tony’s age, though it was difficult to tell, her seemingly ageless golden skin a potential factor, Tony’s substance abuse didn’t exactly help his cause though.

She walked back in, a wired heating pad in hand, she lifted it in the air inquisitively before tossing it to me.

��Thank you, Agent-”

“It’s no problem.” She cut me off gruffly.

I set the heating pad up in a chair and sat down, placing my hand back on the captain, and, over a few hours, I healed him as much as I could before returning to the hotel for the night. A comfortable cycle that lasted for a few months.

I walked into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s office for what would likely be the last time, at least soon.

I walked up to the agents who had escorted me on my first day- Agents May and Coulson I’d learned.

“Ready for your last day?” Coulson asked a melancholic tone laced his voice.

“Are you excited to be done with babysitting me?” I teased.

I’d gotten more comfortable around Coulson, though it wasn’t exactly difficult with his rather ‘easy-going’ nature, and comfortable enough around Agent May to talk to her. We walked along the rather familiar path to Captain Rogers’ room. I made quick work of healing what remained of his injuries.

He still wasn’t awake. For whatever reason I thought Cap would wake up when I had finished healing him.

Coulson and I talked for a while before heading to the entrance once I’d gotten word back from Tony that his chauffeur was there to pick me up.

“I’m gonna miss you, kid.” he whispered, pulling me into a side hug.

“I’ll miss you too, Phil.” I replied, “ It was nice getting to know you, Agent-”

“May, call me May.” She cut me off, “And, unless you quit within the next year we’ll probably see you soon. Stark has an odd habit of getting in trouble with almost anyone and everyone.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

A car horn was blaring outside for a minute and I knew it was Tony, “Guess that’s my cue, goodbye.” I sent them a soft smile and a wave before I got in the car.

A few months passed by with ease with the Stark Expo taking up more time and paperwork than I could’ve imagined. I walked in one day to see Coulson in Tony’s office.

“Phil? Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you! What’s got you across the country?”

“It’s good to see you too, kid. I’m here because S.H.I.E.L.D. is requesting Mr. Stark’s presence.” He spoke rather cooly about Tony, a stark contrast to his normal.

“TONY! Did you break the Geneva Convention?!” Tony looked at me speechless, feigning hurt I would even think of it, Coulson stood beside me struggling and barely holding back a chuckle.

“No, unfortunately not. ‘We’ need to borrow him, more specifically the ‘Iron Man’ suit. As I was saying before, we have a helicarrier waiting for your arrival.”

“Okay, Tony. Please, stop being a bitch and get your shit. You’re lucky they step in enough to keep you out of prison for some likely war criminal activity. Suck it up and grab your bags.” I walked to Tony’s desk and put down his coffee before walking into my office and grabbing the duffel I had stuffed in the corner of the room.

I walked back out, “Where’d you say the plane was?”

Coulson showed me to the plane where we waited for about twenty minutes before Tony walked over with his bags. We piled in and got up to the helicarrier, a giant airbase I was told was legal.

May was waiting for us on deck and showed me to my room before leaving me to unpack.

I had to have been walking through those damn near identical hallways for half an hour before giving up.

After yelling into my hands I spoke, to no one but myself, “How do people even get around these things? It’s a whole death trap, I swear.”

“Exactly!” A voice called out from behind me. I turned around to find a familiar face, Captain America, “I guess you don’t work here either?”

“Oh, um, no. You couldn’t pay me to stay on this thing.”

He laughed revealing a warm smile that fit his beautiful, angel-like face perfectly.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Kyrie Eirsson- I’m Mr. Stark’s personal assistant.”

I saw his eyes widen in recognition at the second half, “Oh! You’re the person I’m supposed to find.”

“What? Oh, fuck, that’s embarrassing.” I held my face in my hands, my face flushing furiously, I moved my fingers to see the Captain’s face. He stood across from me, face turned away, fist in front of his mouth in a failing attempt to hide his wide grin.

“In any case, Stark’s having a fit without you on the bridge. Shall we?” He held out his arm for me to take.

“I disappear for what, forty-fifty minutes and he goes nuts without me, shocker.” I took his arm gleefully, laughing at how ridiculous the situation was.

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #mcu #mcu fanfiction #xmen x reader #xmen #fanfic #phil coulson #melinda may #director fury #nick fury #tony stark #iron man

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live-from-flaturn · 2 months ago

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Oh my god there was only one bed, monster under it edition

Ohhhhhh boy. Buckle up. You've unleashed the beast (me). It starts emo and gets cute and then gets weird?

*these are not being proof read, this is a writing exercise. If you see any mistakes... No you didn't. <3

---

A shaky 13-year-old Kim flops into bed after an endless day of brutal martial arts training. His body aches, the result of hour spent working with his Father's most loyal, talented bodyguards. A handful of black-and-purple bruises have already bloomed across his ribs and down both legs. An ache settled deep in his muscles shortly after their minimalistic lunch and hadn't budged since.

In short, he doesn't have the energy to get up again and shower before passing out. All Kim can manage is a weary groan, momentarily alarmed by the brief hallucination of glowing green eyes that dance in his vision before dark exhaustion drags him under.

He dreams of soft, pale hands cooling his fevered skin and wakes to find the worst of his bruises nearly healed.

Three weeks after turning 16, Kim moves out. He's tired of his Father's lying, domineering, manipulative ways. Sure, moving out doesn't exempt him from experiencing those things on ocassion, but it takes him out of Korn's direct line of fire.

He can lick his wounds in peace. Unsurveilled because he's picked the entire place apart five times and found nothing. The first night still feels impossible, though. He paces the apartment from one end to the other until his muscles give out and he collapses beside the bed. Forehead pressed to the cool wooden floor.

He dreams of those strange, pale hands again. When Kim wakes this time, he's on the bed and two large hand-prints mar the comforter to either side of Kim's face - as though someone (or something) tucked him in last night.

Unsure how else to respond but not one to neglect a kindness paid, Kim offers an awkward "Thank you" before hurrying to get dressed.

Kim comes home, slams his door shut, and flings his guitar case into the closet. He throws his jacket on the floor and falls into the mattress with a scream. Fists pound down across the pillows and white-hot tears of shame pour from his eyes.

He can't believe Korn paid the judges to humiliate him live on television. What an idiot he'd been to think an opportunity like that was meant in earnest - a chance to sing his first original single and it had been a sham.

"Why?!" he sobs. "Why couldn't I have had a normal family."

Eventually Kim cries himself to sleep. The morning comes without a single trace of sticky tears or tacky slept-in makeup. His face is clean and all his clothes are put away. After his shower, a message that should scare him shows up in the steam: "You have a great voice, Kim."

This time it comes out confident and strong: "Thank you."

When Kim is 21 he passes out from bloodloss with his fingers barely past the limit of his bedroom door.

"Thank goodness you fell within my boundary!" The unfamiliar voice is musical and sweet. "That means I can help!"

The hands - pale hands. So cold wherever they touch.

Those eyes glow above him. Beacons in the darkness as he bleeds sluggishly into cupped palms. A sharp smile turns comiserating. Apologetic. "This is going to hurt a little, P'Kim..."

Kim is nearly 250 now, as he tangles his fingers with those of a familiar hand.

"How did you sleep?" Chay asks, pressing a kiss to his husband's cheek.

"Very well, and you?"

"Splendidly. Now, shall we tend to our charge?"

"Of course, darling. We can't all be unconventional and fall in love with them, can we?"

Chay rolls his eyes and slides from beneath the bedframe, hiss already brewing low in his throat. Kim follows after, as he will in every lifetime.

#faye you're really killin it tonight #kimchay prompts #kimchay ficlet #creature chay #human kim #happy halloween flaturn fills #kimchay #kimchay fanfic #kimchay prompt fill

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grapejuicestyless · 1 year ago

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i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖

Bad People

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.

FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS

The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.

The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.

All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.

Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.

The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.

So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.

“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.

He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.

“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.

“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.

It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.

It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the snow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.

Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.

A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.

He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.

“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.

“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.

“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.

Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.

When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.

The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.

His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.

Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.

He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.

He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.

It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.

“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.

I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.

Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.

When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.

“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.

For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.

He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.

He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.

When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.

When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.

“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.

My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.

How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.

“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.

He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.

He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. He was colder, more distant. Quiet.

But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.

Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.

Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.

Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.

I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.

He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.

I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.

“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.

“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.

When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.

I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.

Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.

After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.

We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.

We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.

We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.

Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?

The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.

Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.

There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.

Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.

“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.

It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.

He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.

Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.

We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered why I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.

“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.

“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.

“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?

His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.

“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.

“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.

“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.

“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.

“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.

Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.

“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.

Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.

And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.

A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.

I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.

“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.

My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.

“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.

I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.

When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.

I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.

I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.

I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.

But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.

Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.

Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.

“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.

Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.

I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.

Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.

When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.

She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?

Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.

The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.

“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.

I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.

He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.

“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.

He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.

“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.

“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.

“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.

“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.

“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.

I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.

“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.

I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.

I ring in the New Year alone.

The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.

He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.

Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.

After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.

After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.

A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.

I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.

We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?

I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.

Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.

My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.

“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.

“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.

“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.

“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble all in one breath, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.

“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.

The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.

“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.

“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.

“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.

“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.

“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.

“No.”

“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.

“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.

“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.

“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.

“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.

“Harry I could never hate you.”

“But you could never love me.” He argued.

“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.

“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.

“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.

“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.

“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.

And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.

But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.

“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.

“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.

“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.

“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.

So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.

“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.

After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.

Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.

Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.

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