#everyone wants to ask you to leave but is too polite to actually say it

[artificial-transmutations]

Historically Accurate

"I'm telling you, Hollywood is going down with all the woke crap! You know what they say: Go woke go broke!"

Julian and Wallace were on their way back from the lunch room and the former was listening to the latter complaining. Julian had tried to avoid any topic like this, but, really, it was a mine field with Wallace. Just about *every* topic had the potential to turn out political.

"I don't see what's wrong with a little inclusion in pop culture." Julian said, not wanting to argue but also not wanting to leave that opinion unopposed.

"Everything! It's just plain wrong, and it's brainwash, too. I mean, it's like a mind virus, poisoning everything! There's a western coming out next week. But it's all bullshit woke agenda again. The cowboy is black and gay! Literal brainwash and historical rewrite."

Julian frowned. How could an intelligent person like Wallace be so stupid at the same time?

"Why does that even bother you? I thought you hated westerns."

"Yes, that's not the point. Fact is, it's historically inaccurate and just pushing the woke agenda."

"Actually, I think it's not even historically incorrect." Julian pondered as they entered the lab using Julian's keycard and an iris scan of both scientists.

Wallace was borderline angry now.

"What are you talking about? Everyone knows that cowboys were the whitest and the straightest people there were."

"I'm not quite sure", Julian said. "Weren't there freed slaves and so on? And I would guess if you were underway with another guy for prolonged periods of time, not everything staid straight, too."

"Bullshit! Everyone knows cowboys weren't fags, and they were white."

Wallace seemed agitated now, and his usual stiff demeanor became even more pronounced.

Wallace was in his mid-forties, but the way he was talking, he seemed way older to Julian.

Julian on the other hand was awfully young for the position he had. Being 25, he still didn't look like he had finished college, even though he had his doctorate already.

It was really a bit sad, he thought. Two of the brightest minds and they were bickering over basic, meaningless distinctions like ethnicity or sexual orientation.

"We could just ask the computer." he proposed, but Wallace frowned.

"We are not supposed to use the equipment for private research." he said.

'The computer' was part of the highly secretive project they worked on. When finished, it was supposed to be a time machine, simple as that. The actual time travel device didn't work properly yet, but a part of it, a chronoton boosted quantum computer that was able to access history itself to answer questions about the part, was already functioning quite well.

"But we are supposed to test it from time to time. Are you afraid of the answer it might give?"

"Of course not." Wallace grumbled. "Fine. Computer! Is there any historical evidence of gay black cowboys?"

The voice activated system acknowledged the request with a beep. While waiting for the answer, Julian checked the parameters of the system and found them in near-perfect condition.

Finally, the system answered, with the neutral male voice it was programmed with.

"A significant portion of cowboys consisted of people with African heritage, especially after the freeing of slaves after the civil war. Homosexual acts and attraction were common among cowboys, especially during the trail drives. Demonstrating..."

"Hrmpf." Wallace said, clearly not happy.

Julian, who was still checking the readings, scratched his head.

"Did you remember to disconnect the capsule before making the query? It seems to be drawing power."

"Ah, crap. That's just because of all the bullshit talk. Computer, stop!"

"Unable to comply. Demonstrating... Target: Montana Frontier Area, June 1865..."

The white walls of the chamber started to glow in an ever brighter white that was beginning to hurt the eyes.

"Crap. Julian, cut the power!" Wallace said, now with a clear notion of fear in his voice. The younger scientist didn't answer but tried to do as he was told - but did not succeed in time.

Suddenly, with a flash, their surroundings changed and the two of them found themselves in the middle of a rugged mountain range, on the border of a pine forest. It was late afternoon and the scientists found themselves in a just set-up camp. Two horses were standing nearby, and a small herd of cows was grazing at a meadow.

Wallace sighed and shook his head angrily. "Just great. Look at the mess you just put us in. Now we have to wait until we're rescued. And, apparently, we have to meet some black homo cowboys."

Julian looked around but couldn't see anyone around.

"I would have also guessed so, but there doesn't seem to be anyone there."

His heart sank as he had a terrible suspicion. He had been experimenting lately with a normalization circuit that would embed the time travelers into history instead of superimposing them onto it. That was - according to his theories - a rather elegant way to resolve the repelling effect the historical structure had, but it wasn't finished by any means. It had never been tested and even theoretically, it wouldn't be able to achieve a partial embedding, only a full one at best. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it had still been connected to the system.

As Julian thought about how to break it to Wallace, he noticed something strange about the other scientist. It could be a trick of the light, but he looked way more tanned than before.

"Uhm... It might actually be somewhat worse than that. I think my normalization circuit was still active when you activated the machine."

"What? What does that mean?" Wallace looked at him, furiously now.

"Well, I would guess..." Julian struggled and gave up. "Look at your hands, I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Wallace looked down at his darkening hands and paled. Even now, he still had a considerably darker skin tone than before, darkening with every passing second.

"Shit." he said. "That's what you get for fucking around with a half-finished experiment."

Julian didn't even dare to mention his suspicion. If his normalization circuit was really active, that would make Wallace an actual, black cowboy, and not just him. Julian was also a time traveler, so he, too, would be affected.

Meanwhile, the changes in Wallace seemed to have proceeded. His facial structure looked like it was in motion before finally settling on a generally broader, manlier shape: The jawline became more pronounced, and his cheekbones raised.

"Is there... anything going on with me as well?" Julian asked.

Wallace looked over at him.

"Yeah, your hair color is changing, and I think your eye color. Blonde and blue-eyed, how cliché. But most importantly, you're not becoming fucking a fucking Black man."

Wallace didn't say Black man.

For some reason, this didn't bother Julian half as much as it should have. He felt rather at ease, and the untamed wilderness around him awakened a sense of adventure inside of him that he didn't know was in him.

Meanwhile Wallace was also feeling a change within. A surge of confidence emerged from within him that was entirely alien to the deeply insecure man at first, but quickly became more and more part of his personality. It was like his core was solidifying into a confident and assertive nature, a boldness and quiet he secretly always wished he had. At the same time, his body structure changed considerably.

Where before, Wallace had been a physically unimpressive mid-forties man, it now seemed like the years melted off of him, and for every year that he lost, he gained three pounds of muscle mass and beef. His shoulders widened, his height increased, and his frame expanded in order to accommodate the new body mass.

"It's not that bad, ain't it?" While Julian's body had not changed much besides the hair and eye color, his voice sounded entirely different now. It had a southern lilt to it, but it was charismatic and charming. It was the kind of voice you could listen to for hours without end, perfect for reading an audiobook - or telling campfire stories.

"Well now, I ain't too sure 'bout that." Wallace's voice had changed even more considerably when he answered. He had gained a thick southern accent, and his voice had dropped to a low and smooth voice that sounded commanding even if he didn't intend to.

"Ha, look at that, your skin's startin' to change now, too!"

And really, Julian's skin had started to adapt as well, but it was quickly becoming apparent that it went a different route than Wallace's. Instead of darkening to the almost black tone that he was sporting, Julian's skin became rougher and got a sun-kissed tan instead. His facial features sharpened, as his cheekbones looked chiseled all of a sudden and a rugged beard texture was adorning his chin. Julian seemed to notice it, too, since he started touching his new face immediately.

"Cool! Always wondered what I'd look like sportin' a beard." he said, apparently not too unhappy with the changes.

There was no denying Julian looked good, which made Wallace feel a touch of jealousy. In his opinion, it wasn't fair that he was the only one having to deal with the black skin. That feeling quickly faded, though, as his changes continued. His hair became very short, curly and dark. At the same time, a short beard formed on his chin and upper lip, giving him an even manlier appeal. At the same time, chest hair sprouted, sparsely of course, as it was normal for a man of his heritage. A strange feeling overcame Wallace. He wasn't necessarily *proud* to be Black now, but he also didn't mind it anymore. He was proud of a lot of secondary assets, though, like his bulging muscles or his handsome face. As his eyes became a dark brown, he had to smirk as he sat down by the fire, readjusting himself in the process. And, of course, his big cock, which might also have been positively influenced by his new ancestry.

Wallace watched as Julian turned around and tended to the horses. His body was now, finally, also changing. It didn't become nearly as bulky as his own, but instead lean and agile, with narrow hips and a well-distributed surprising strength, as Wallace knew. While Julian was busy with the horses, Wallace had a good view of his ass. It filled out the jeans just so well, and Vallace only noticed now that the other man's attire had changed. He was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a vest and, of course a Stetson now, and Vance always thought that this outfit accentuated the best parts of his partner quite well. He preferred black leather, himself, since the material was sturdier and felt better on the skin.

Vince felt his cock hardening in his leather pants and readjusted himself again while also leaning back and spreading his legs to make more room for the erection. He wasn't afraid of anyone seeing his rude behavior. The only other man within a wide range was Jesse, the owner of that juicy ass. And he was allowed to see... well, everything.

Vince waited patiently until Jesse returned to the campfire, with a big smile on his face.

"How them horses holdin' up, partner?" Vince asked.

"They're good. Just a tad worn out from today's ride." Jesse answered.

"Well, there's somethin' else needs tendin' to, if you're free to lend a hand. Or an ass." Vince grinned and made his cock throb in the confines of his tight leather pants.

Jesse grinned at the display of masculinity and massaged his own cock.

"Hell yes!"

As Jesse moved over in his usual graceful movements, Vince leaned back. There really wasn't anything better than being a big, black cowboy. Especially not with a partner like Jesse, who was always happy to make the nights in the wilderness a little less lonely.

Certainly not poor and lonesome! Also check out this awesome writer!

There are a few more versions of Jesse and Vince, over at my tip jar.

#male transformation #straight to gay #muscle transformation #racial transformation #cowboy #historical transformation

[c-e-d-dreamer]

.

#truly the worst combination #is being mentally ill and also on your period #like I'm not even joking #I hate it #I would like to get off this ride #I don't need my brain telling me everyone hates me #telling me all my friends are pretending and don't really like me #telling me that every message is actually a backhanded comment #a dig or a vague or whatever #it's all about you Caty #everyone wants to ask you to leave but is too polite to actually say it #it makes me want to curl up and cry #it makes me want to delete all my apps #and go like full silent for however long #even if I know somewhere in the back of my mind that's illogical #anyways #enjoy these late night ramblings #I'm sure I'll delete this in the morning

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (part 1)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Y/n wonders if she thinks too highly of herself.

She thinks she’s pretty. Not in an obnoxious, self-obsessed way! She knows she’s not a supermodel, and she definitely has a lot of days where she looks and feels totally dead – but at the end of the day, she’s not hideous. She splurges on pretty makeup products, does her hair in the mornings, spends a decent amount of time planning out cute outfits… you know, little things to make herself feel pretty!

She brushes her teeth twice a day, showers regularly, flosses. Wears pretty perfumes that smell like flowers and lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There’s a stash of gum in her bag that she’s always chewing on, so she knows she doesn’t have bad breath; and she carries an extra deodorant in her backpack too, so you can’t tell her she’s repulsive or anything like that. 

She’s kind. She smiles at strangers and always laughs at people’s jokes (even if they aren’t funny)— holds the elevator door open and says a polite “good morning” or “hello!” with her happy, cheery voice. And even though she’s a bit shy, she tries her best to spread love and kindness in the world. It just makes her happy to make other people happy!

Plus, being nice means that everyone else is nicer to you. So even if she’s in a bad mood, she’ll fake a smile and pretend like she’s happy y/n.

But, she wonders... if she has all of these amazing qualities– if she really is as pretty and kind and wonderful as she makes herself out to be– then why hasn’t she been kissed yet?

She loves her friends, of course she does! But how is she so different from them? Why do all of her friends get asked out on dates and have amazing boyfriends while she’s still a lonely virgin who hasn’t even been kissed yet? 

It’s not like she’s this super virginal person who gets grossed out by boys! She wants to be kissed, she wants to get fucked! She’s toyed around with the idea of just downloading tinder and losing it all to some stranger in one night stand, but her romantic heart just can’t stand the thought of it. 

Yes, she’s desperate… but she’s also romantic. Love is on her mind 24/7. It’s what she thinks about before she falls asleep, what she daydreams about whenever she gets bored. She could spend hours with a romance novel, hyper fixating on the little things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at. The way the boy’s hand cupped the girl’s jaw while they kissed, or how their fingers brushed as they walked down the street. Little things like forehead kisses and prolonged glances across a room. 

She craves it for herself, desperately aches for the affection that she reads of. She wants to rest her head on someone’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as she falls asleep, feel their fingers playing with her hair, or their lips skimming her cheek. Wants to laugh under the covers and share secrets and be vulnerable and in love. She wants it more than anything in the world! 

And yet, she hasn’t even been kissed! 

Everyone else seems to do it so easily – find a nice guy, go out on a date, and fall in love. So why is it so hard for her? Her friends tell her that she's the prettiest and sweetest girl out there, and that the right guy simply hasn’t come around yet… but y/n can’t help but think, is any of it true?

Is she even that pretty? Is she actually likable?

What’s wrong with her?

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Harry hates these stupid college parties.

They’re loud and stuffy, with way too many people crammed into one room for his liking. The alcohol is cheap, the music is annoying. The entire apartment smells like weed, and there’s not even a secluded corner for him to mope around in without some group of drunk girls completely invading his personal space. Everything about these parties sucks.

If he could, he’d leave. But he’s meant to give a ride home to his roomie Blake, and Blake’s currently hooking up with the host of this party. 

So Harry’s stuck here. Great. 

He checks his phone, and it’s nearly midnight. Blake should be done soon, right? The blonde girl who’s been talking to him for the past 20 minutes is getting awfully close, her hand trailing on his biceps and migrating towards his chest, and she’s blinking up at him with fluttery bambi eyes. 

Any other night and Harry might be into whatever this girl is hinting at, but he’s 100% sober and 100% not in the mood to hook up with a girl who’s taken one too many shots. He grabs the girl's hands and peels them off of his chest gently, muttering something about needing to use the restroom (he doesn’t even need to use the bathroom, he just needs a minute away from the pounding music). 

He sends her off in the direction of her friends, who are giggling to each other in a corner across the room and not-so-inconspicuously checking to see if their friend has managed to successfully get with Harry. He’s sure they’ve realized that he rejected her when they all glare at him. Sorry to disappoint, he thinks to himself. 

He’s nearly positive that any bathrooms in this shitty college apartment will probably be occupied, either with someone throwing up all the drinks they’ve had or with a couple hooking up. But no harm in trying anyway. 

The first door that he tries to open is locked. The second door opens up to reveal a coat closet. 

The third door however, opens up to a bedroom. 

The walls are decorated with posters and pictures, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and tiny pots of succulents placed all over the room… but the one thing that stands out the most is the overwhelming number of books scattered all over the room. There’s a bookshelf on each wall, cluttered with books of all colors and sizes. Stacks of books lie on the nightstand by the bed, a stray book sits on top of a dresser, and a pile of new, untouched books sits pristinely in the far right corner of the room. 

Books, books, and more books all over the room. And, a book in the hands of a girl sitting quietly in her bed, staring at Harry. 

Dressed in a hoodie and some fuzzy pj pants, the book that she’d once held up closely to her face now rests on her lap as she blinks up at this strange intruder. She sits upright, closing the book but sticking her finger between the pages so that she doesn’t lose her place. “Um… hi?” she says quietly. 

He steps into the room, and looks at her blankly. “Hi.” She blinks at him. “S’this room taken?” he asks.

“Um. Well,” she looks at him curiously. “No, I guess not.” 

“Okay, good,” he responds, quickly closing the door behind him. He sits on a spinny chair that he pulls out from under a desk and leans his head back, letting out a deep sigh of relief. 

The girl, with her finger still lodged between her book, stares at him confused. Who is this guy? 

He’s cute, and she’s mildly embarrassed that he’s come into her room when she’s looking so… sleepy. But he also seems kinda grumpy and is obviously not in the mood to talk. He’s leaning back in her chair and closing his eyes, gently rubbing his temples as if he’s meditating. 

She observes him with wide eyes. Then after a minute of silence she awkwardly picks her book back up and tries to resume reading. 

Kinda hard to do with some random guy sitting in her bedroom, though. 

In this secluded bedroom, the sound of the music has decreased dramatically. Harry’s pounding headache starts to fade away, and he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party. He looks around the room that he so luckily stumbled into. 

The desk in front of him is, to no surprise, cluttered with more books. A laptop is plugged in in front of him, and there’s a cup full of colorful pens and markers sitting against the wall. Hanging on the wall is a string of pictures starring the same girl with different groups of people. 

He looks at the pictures hanging from the walls. Then he looks back at the girl laying in the bed. 

“S’this your room?” he asks, finally connecting the dots.

She looks up from the book again and nods. 

“Oh,” he hums, surprised. He supposes he should’ve realized it as soon as he walked in. Girl in a room full of books, reading a book. Face clean of all makeup, snuggled up in a blanket, nice and comfy as though she’s just about ready for bed. It’s a bit silly that he only made the connection once he saw her pictures up on the walls. “Why aren’t you out there partying?” 

“Um… not really my scene,” she says, closing the book and looking at Harry properly. Her nose scrunches up, “And it smells really bad in there.”

“Jesus, tell me about it,” he groans. “Could hardly breathe in there. In fact–” he says, already standing up, “d’ya mind if we open up a window? Still feels stuffy in here.” 

She shows no resistance as he slides the window open, accepting the fact that she’d be sharing her room with this stranger until the party was over. Harry sticks his head out and takes a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Much better than the sweaty, smoky, sickly smell going on inside the apartment. 

When he turns back around, the girl has rearranged herself. She sits criss-crossed on her bed and looks up at Harry, fidgeting nervously with her lip bitten between her teeth. 

She’s kind of cute. 

Harry breaks the silence again. “I think your roommate is hooking up with my roommate right now.” 

“Oh.” She blinks. “Is your roommate Blake?” 

He nods.

“Yeah, Maddie’s been saying that she, um… you know,” she looks down at her hands as they play with a loose thread on the hem of her pants. “Wants to hook up with him or whatever.” 

He nods his head, leaning back against her wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. As refreshing as the air is, the night time breeze is cold. 

“No offense,” he says, “But you don’t seem like you’d be friends with Maddie.” Maddie (y/n’s roommate) has jet black hair, wears heavy eyeliner and black lipstick everyday, and is at least a little bit high 90% of the time. Y/n, in comparison, has flowery bed sheets, a stuffed bunny tucked in next to her, and is hiding in her bedroom while a party being thrown in her own apartment. 

She just smiles softly. “Yeah, we met online. But she’s really nice.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “She seems like a bitch.” 

She defends her roommate immediately. “She’s not a bitch!” But then she thinks about it for a second. Maddie can definitely come off a bit… harsh at times. “Well… she’s usually really nice to me, at least.” 

That makes sense. It would be very hard to be mean to this girl, he imagines. She’s too nice. It would be like being mean to a puppy or something. 

Good thing Harry isn’t mean. He’s just… a bit of a grump. 

She taps her fingers against the cover of her book awkwardly, staring at Harry as he looks up to her ceiling and closes his eyes. He just wants to be in his bed right now. 

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry pushes himself off the wall. “I think Blake should be done,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “I’m going to leave now.” 

“Okay,” says the girl quietly. She watches as he leaves with a nod of his head, and shuts the door behind him. 

That was weird, she thinks. 

Whatever, though. She opens her book and forgets about it. 

+++

Don’t people say that drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving? What constitutes drowsy driving? Should y/n even be out on the road right now?

She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Maddie woke her up with a phone call at 2 AM, asking if y/n would come pick her up from Blake’s apartment cause she was too high to get back on her own and she doesn’t want to stay the night there. 

Y/n, being the sweetheart that she is, obviously wants her roommate to get back safe. So she’s in her car, at 2 AM, yawning every three seconds as she drives to the location Maddie sent her.

She texts Maddie from the car, but Maddie doesn’t respond. She calls her, then sends another text, but still no answer. After 10 minutes of no response, she goes up to the door and knocks. 

Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, it’s Harry.

His eyebrows furrow as recognizes the girl from that party he’d been at two weeks ago. She looks just as comfortable as she did then, in a big pink hoodie and a pair of sweats. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice confused and his eyes doubting. Not many people come knocking at his door at 2 AM.

Unlike y/n, who looks like she just rolled out of bed and drove here (that is exactly what she did), Harry looks like he’s been up all night (he’s been playing COD). He’s not wearing a shirt and has a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, showing off a chiseled abdomen that acts as a canvas for a multitude of pretty tattoos. Y/n finds herself staring at the swallows that lie under his collarbones, the butterfly painted above his stomach, and the ferns lining a yummy pair of v-lines that point downwards… she swallows thickly and forces herself to look away. 

“Um,” she covers her mouth as she yawns, hiding her cold fingers with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Maddie needed me to drive her home.” She blinks sleepily, and can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she looks so dead.

“It’s 2 in the morning,” he scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She blinks sleepily again. “I was.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. If it were him, he would not have gotten up and driven all the way over here. Someone else’s problems are not enough to get him out of bed. But, this girl… she’s too nice. 

He leaves her at the door and goes to Blake’s room, pounding on the door rudely. “Hey!” he yells, irritation evident in his tone, “your roommate’s here.” 

He hears a bit of shuffling, before Maddie stumbles out of Blake’s room, makeup askew and clothing only half on. She giggles up at Harry and apologizes playfully, but he just glares at her. Her eyes are glazed over and the whites of her eyes bloodshot, very obviously high if the way she couldn’t walk straight wasn’t enough of an indication. 

He feels bad for the stupid girl who drove all the way over here in the middle of the night because her roommate wanted to get high.

Maddie trips over her own feet and falls into y/n, who uses all of her strength to keep her roommate upright and walks her slowly down to the car. “Are you feeling okay?” Harry hears her ask quietly. He scoffs to himself.

He doesn’t get it. How the fuck has this girl not lost her shit? Her irresponsible roommate woke her up at 2 am and made her drive all the way to some stranger’s house, and yet she still manages to be so… gentle. So kind, to someone who barely even deserves it. So caring, to someone who seems to care so little. 

As y/n helps Maddie get into the car, she looks back up to the apartment and sees Harry watching them from the doorstep. They make eye contact for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze makes her heart stutter, a chill running down her spine. He looks… upset. Almost like he’s mad at her.

It makes her frown. She wants to say something to him, apologize for ruining his night… but then Maddie sticks her head out of the car and vomits. 

Harry shakes his head and turns away. 

That girl is too nice for her own good. 

+++

“Hey.” Blake pokes his head into Harry’s room, where Harry’s busy playing a round on his computer, “Do you mind if Maddie and her friend come over?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mumbles, uninterested, not looking away from his game. 

“Sick,” he turns around to go back into his own room, but stops when Harry suddenly pauses his game and calls out to him.

“Who’s the friend?” Harry asks, turning around. 

“Y/n,” Blake answers. Harry stares at him, his brows furrowed. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Her roommate.” 

“That quiet girl?” Harry clarifies.

“Yeah, that one.” 

Oh. So her name was y/n. 

Good to know. 

+++

It’s dark out when Harry finally turns off his game, sliding his headset off and stretching his back. He lets out a long groan as he feels his spine crack, a delicious feeling after being hunched over his controller for three hours straight. 

Standing up, he scratches at his stomach lazily, throwing his headset onto his chair. His arms feel a bit sore, having been to the gym earlier that day, and his hair is still wet from when he showered. He puts on a sweatshirt, finding his apartment too cold to be roaming around shirtless, and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat. 

He stops in his tracks when he finds y/n sitting in his living room all alone. 

She’s got a book in her hands, a thick, worn-out novel that looks older than herself. She’s sitting comfortably on their couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt, so engulfed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t even realize that she’s not alone anymore. 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen her outside of her sleep attire. She’s wearing a pair of loose, comfy looking corduroy pants, and a tight top that cuts off just below her ribs. Her chest rises and falls steadily, eyes skimming across the pages of her book so quickly that he wonders if she’s actually absorbing any of the words or not. She chews on her lip as she reads, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

When Harry finally speaks, it makes her jump in her place. “Where are Blake and Maddie?”

Her book nearly falls out of her hands as she whips her head around. When she sees it’s him, she relaxes. “Oh. Um,”  she sits upright, closing her book, “They’re in his room.”

He nods slowly, squinting his eyes. There’s no nice way to ask his next question, so he just spits it out bluntly. “Why’d you come over if you’re just sitting out here while they hook up?” 

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling a little shy under his intimidating gaze. “Maddie was my ride to campus today. And she wanted to stop by here before we went home.” She shrugs quietly, “So I kinda had no choice.”

He huffs. Of course. 

Y/n says that Maddie’s nice, but Harry really doesn’t like her. How weird is it to drag your friend somewhere just to have them sit alone while you go hook up with someone? 

“How long have you guys been here?” he asks.

“Like, an hour.”

“So you’ve been sitting around doing nothing for an hour?”

She pouts. “I had my book.”

He blinks. She just sat here reading for an hour, while her roommate abandoned her to go hookup with Blake… and she’s okay with it? 

She is too nice for her own good. 

“Do y’want some pizza?” he asks, already opening the freezer.

Normally, y/n would say no. She’s kind of an unwelcome guest and she doesn’t want to be a burden on Harry. But… she hasn’t had anything since breakfast. And Maddie still hasn’t come out. She’s kind of starving.

“What kind?” she asks politely.

“Umm… cheese or pepperoni.” 

“I don’t like pepperoni,” she confesses shyly. “But also I could just pick it off if you want pepperoni. Whatever you want.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoving the pepperoni pizza back into the freezer. He wants to scream at her to stop being so nice! Stop being so considerate and just say what you want!

He puts it in the oven to bake, setting a timer for 15 minutes, then takes a moment to contemplate his next move. He could either go back into his room, where he could lie in bed and nap until the pizza was ready… or he could stay in here and sit awkwardly on the couch so that y/n wouldn’t be all alone. 

99% of him wants to just go back into his room where he can be grumpy and alone in peace… but then he looks over at y/n, who’s sitting on the couch all by herself. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place, tracing her thumb over the raised up font on the hardcover in her hands.

The 1% of him that feels bad for her wins. He sits down next to her on the couch. 

He nods his head towards the worn out book, which looks thicker than anything he’s ever read. “Are you reading the fuckin’ bible?” 

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly. She runs her fingers over the grooves of the title, a feeling so familiar that it comforts her when she’s feeling so out of place. “It’s Wuthering Heights.” 

He furrows his brow. “Never heard of it.” 

“It’s good,” she says. “Kinda dense, but I’ve already read it a few times. It’s one of my favorites.” 

He nods again, tapping his fingers on his thighs as silence overtakes the apartment once more. He looks around the living room, trying to find something else to say. 

Y/n’s heart pitter patters in her chest nervously. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous around Harry. She’s pretty shy in general, and Harry’s stoic demeanor certainly doesn’t help her relax. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Um… what’s your major?” A feeble attempt on her end at a conversation. 

“Math.” 

“Just math?” she parrots.

“Mhm,” he cracks his knuckles. “Pure math.” 

She huffs out a quiet breath, a pout on her lips. “I’m in a math class right now.” Her fingers pick at a piece of fuzz that’s stuck on the couch. “Calc 1. It’s really hard.”

“Mm, yeah.” Harry hums, “Took that during my first year.” 

She looks at him with wide eyes, “Did you pass?” 

He holds back a smile. It’s amusing, how earnestly she’s asking him – a math major – if he passed Calculus 1. That class was generally easy for him, mostly just beginner stuff compared to the math he does now that he’s in his third year. But he doesn’t say that. “Yeah, I did,” he says simply, not wanting to make her feel bad.

She nods, looking back down at her book. “I’m kinda scared. Our first midterm was really hard.” 

He hums sympathetically. Even though it was easy for him, he knows that calc class is infamously hard for others – especially for those who aren’t math inclined like himself. “How about you? What’s your major?” 

His legs are spread apart so that he takes up nearly half the couch, whereas y/n sits curled up on the other corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Bio,” she readjusts herself so that she’s sitting crisscrossed, her book still clutched to her chest protectively. “With a concentration in ecology.” 

Ew. He hates biology. Actually… he hates everything except math. Math is easy for him. 

The oven beeps. A rush of relief fills his chest, finally free from this awkward conversation, and he eagerly abandons y/n on the couch to get the pizza out. He’s hungry, starving, and doesn’t bother with a plate or anything before grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth. 

“Come have some,” he mumbles, mouth full.

She timidly walks over to the kitchen counter that he’s standing at, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and takes a slice as well. Blowing on it, she takes a much smaller bite than Harry did since it’s still so hot. She doesn’t know how he managed to already finish a whole slice. 

Now that they can focus on eating their food, there’s no need for any more small talk. They eat comfortably in silence, only acknowledging each other when y/n asks for a napkin. He nods towards one of the drawers, asking her to grab him one too, and then they’re back to eating in silence. 

Blake and Maddie burst out of his room a few minutes later.

“Harry made dinner!” exclaims Blake, coming over and reaching for a slice of pizza. 

Harry yanks the tray out of his reach. “Get your own pizza,” he mumbles, putting the pizza back down in front of y/n. He looks at her, and nods his head towards the pizza, inviting her to take another slice. 

Maddie stops her before she can reach for a second slice. “Ready to go?” she asks. 

Y/n nods, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Thanks for the pizza,” she whispers to Harry, quiet enough so that only he hears. 

“Yeah,” is all he says. He barely looks at her, too busy scarfing down his third (maybe fourth) slice. 

She grabs her stuff and follows Maddie out of the boys apartment. 

+++

“Hey!” Maddie pushes her way through the stuffed apartment, reaching her hand out towards y/n. “Listen, I’m gonna go home with Blake.”

“W-What?” Y/n’s head is foggy, her brain a little clouded from the few drinks that she’s had. Y/n doesn’t normally drink, so the little bit of alcohol in her system has had its intended effect and gone a bit further as well – her cheeks are warm, and she feels the world sway a little bit as she looks up at Maddie with a pout. “But– but what about me?”

Normally, y/n stays home whenever Maddie wants to go out and party. She prefers the comfort of her own bed and hates the anxiety she feels when she’s drunk and wobbly and surrounded by a bunch of strangers. But Maddie had assured her that they’d be together all night, that she’d take care of her if she got drunk, and that she’d drive them home whenever y/n wanted to leave.

She’s broken all three of those promises. 

When they got to the party, Maddie abandoned her as soon as she saw Blake across the room. Luckily, y/n saw some of her own friends that she was able to hang out with, some girls from her ecology class who gave her a yummy strawberry smirnoff. They talked and laughed and y/n was having a good time, slowly but surely getting a little bit tipsy. The drink was so yummy, and Maddie wasn’t there to keep an eye on her, so she didn’t realize that she’d gone a bit over her tolerance. 

She’s a bit tipsier than she’d like to be in a public setting, surrounded with people she doesn’t know, and it’s too dark outside for her to get home safely on her own. And now… Maddie wants to abandon her? For Blake? 

“Don’t worry!” Maddie exclaims, completely disregarding the worry flickering in y/n’s glazed eyes. “I’ll order you an uber home!” 

Y/n bites her lip nervously. An uber? At this time of night, when she’s all drunk and stumbling around like a sad little baby deer?

“Um… can’t you take me home before you go with Blake?” 

Maddie rolls her eyes, “come on, really? I’ll pay for the uber. It'll be fine.” 

Y/n’s heart beats loudly in her chest, “I-I’m scared of going by myself, Maddie. I think I had too much to drink, I don’t feel safe.”

Her roommate purses her lips in a firm line, as if she’s annoyed. She looks around the apartment, tapping her foot impatiently, then she lights up with an idea. “Stay here,” she tells y/n. 

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way back to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!” 

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated. 

“Can you drive y/n home?” 

He blinks. “Huh?” 

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?” 

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.” 

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes. 

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?” 

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up. 

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.” 

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza. 

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously. 

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now. 

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment. 

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides. 

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot. 

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes. 

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly. 

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump in her throat as the drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light they stop at and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

He stares at her befuddled, brows furrowed and eyes a piercing green, but she refuses to meet his gaze. She just looks outside the window in a melancholy haze, lost in thought, eyes unfocused as tears drip down her face silently. 

He sighs deeply and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, praying for the red light to turn green so that he can get this girl home as soon as possible. 

+++

When they arrive at her place, he sits in his car and watches as she stumbles up the steps of her apartment. She mumbled out a soft thank you through her tears and managed to climb out of his car smoothly, but the way she wobbles on her feet makes Harry worry that he shouldn’t leave until he’s sure she got in.

She stands in front of her door for a solid two minutes, trying to find her keys, and Harry taps his fingers against his thigh impatiently. When she finally finds them, she struggles to fit the key in the lock, hands shaky and her vision still blurred from the tears. Aaaand then she drops them. 

Harry sighs and puts the car in park. By the time she’s picked the keys back up, Harry’s already gotten out of his car and reached the top step. He takes the keys from her and easily unlocks her door. “In,” he mutters, ushering her into her apartment impatiently. 

He follows her into her bathroom and turns the light on for her. Their eyes meet in the mirror as he asks, “can you get yourself ready for bed?”

She nods, looking down at the ground sheepishly as he leaves her to take off her makeup and brush her teeth. She opts to skip her skincare routine and doesn’t even bother with putting her jewelry back in her jewelry box, simply just leaving her earrings on her bathroom counter to deal with tomorrow. 

Harry’s probably gone back down to his car by now, she thinks. It’s so embarrassing, how he had to drive her home and guide her into her bathroom. He seemed annoyed with her. He probably thought she was so messy – an annoying, overdramatic girl who started crying in his car for no reason. 

More tears bubble in her tears as the hot wave of embarrassment washes over her. She was such a mess, of course she’s never been in a relationship. Nobody would want to date someone like her. 

She takes off her clothes and whips off her bra, sniffling to herself sadly. Slipping on her favorite sweatshirt, a huge pink one that goes down to her mid thighs and covers her hands, she uses the sleeves to wipe away the excess tears in her eyes. She stumbles over herself a bit and bangs her foot against her dresser as she reaches for a pair of sleep shorts and it only makes her want to cry even harder. Drunk y/n is extra emotional, and every little thing is sending over the edge. 

As she’s stepping into her pair of sleep shorts, her bedroom door opens, Harry walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other. She trips over herself as she tries to pull her clothes on as soon as possible, but it just makes her lose balance and stumble to the side. His eyes widen and he turns around quickly, muttering a quick fuck to himself. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Are you decent?”

Y/n regains her composure, cheeks burning as she pulls her shorts over her hips. This night could not be going any worse. “Yeah,” she says quietly. She hopes it’s dark enough in the room so that he doesn’t see her flaming cheeks and puffy eyes. 

He turns around and hands her the water, which she immediately starts chugging down. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been until she’d seen the glass in Harry’s large, tattooed hand. 

“Slow down,” he grunts. He pops open the pill bottle and takes out one Advil for her. “Take this.” 

She grabs the pill from him obediently and swallows it down with the rest of her water. Then she looks up at him, as if waiting for his next instructions. 

“Bed,” he says, nodding his head towards her daisy printed sheets. She goes to climb in but trips over her shoe that she’d messily discarded on the floor. Harry grabs her waist before she can fall to the floor though. 

“Jesus,” he murmurs. This was like the seventh time she’s almost fallen over tonight. Is she always this clumsy or was it the drinks? 

He grabs her hand and physically guides her into her bed, making sure she lays down properly and lifting the sheets for her to climb under. Grabbing her ankle, he literally has to guide her under the blanket, then lets the duvet fall over her gracefully. 

“All good?” he asks, once she’s tucked nicely into her bed, teeth brushed and medicine taken so that she wouldn’t wake up feeling gross tomorrow. 

She looks up at him, eyes no longer tear filled but still clearly sad. “Yeah..” she says quietly, however her eyes flicker around her room as if she’s searching for something. 

He furrows his brows, and glances in the direction her eyes have landed. A stuffed bunny lies on the floor next to the shoe that she tripped over. He bends over and picks it up, handing it to her questioningly. She takes the bunny and snuggles it into her neck, eyes fluttering as if she can finally relax. “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Harry nods curtly and heads for the door. When he turns around one final, y/n is watching him with sleepy eyes. “Bye, Harry,” she squeaks out. 

He stares at her for a second. “Bye.” Then he closes the door behind himself.

+++

Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and an upset tummy.

That was mortifying. 

She’s never gonna be able to face Harry again. He was so annoyed with her, she just knows it! The way she dragged him away from that party, cried in his car, and tripped over herself like a stupid goat with clanky legs… oh, he probably thinks she’s the worst! 

She wishes she had more control over her emotions, that she could’ve held in the tears until she was alone in her bed… but she just felt so miserable last night. She had wanted to start crying literally when Maddie first yelled at her at the party, but she tried to stay strong. Kept herself together so that she at least didn’t start crying in the middle of a party.

But then… getting in the car with Harry. God. The deafening silence, the irritation radiating off of him… it made her feel terrible. She felt like a nuisance, like an annoyance and a burden. 

And she completely humiliated herself in front of Harry! The cute guy that she maybe sort of had started to have a tiny little crush on, simply because he was cute and mildly nice to her and she has a habit of romanticizing small interactions.  

There was no chance he’d ever want to be in a room with her after this. He probably wants nothing to do with her. 

She stumbles out of her bed and plants her feet on the ground, her head spinning a little bit as she squints her eyes. Her little stuffed bunny has fallen onto the floor again, and she picks it up and places it onto the bed next to herself. She remembers how Harry had picked the bunny up and given it to her before she fell asleep last night, like she was some little kid that he was stuck babysitting. 

Ugh. She’s never going to talk to him again. 

+++

Harry stands outside of his lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed angrily. His eyebrows are furrowed in classic Grumpy Harry fashion and his lips are pursed in a disgruntled frown. 

He’s annoyed. 

He stares at y/n, who’s sitting on a bench not too far away. Her tote bag sits on the floor next to her feet and there’s a book in her hand, her finger in between the pages as a temporary bookmark to not lose the page she’s on. 

There’s something about her that just… annoys him so much. He can’t quite explain it.

The way her cheeks dimple as she smiles up at the guy talking to her, tucking her hair behind her ear gently when it falls into her face… it makes his jaw clench angrily as he watches her from a distance. She’s so nice. Too nice. 

She laughs at something the guy she’s talking to says and it makes his stomach feel sour. He doesn’t like it.

Blake’s hand snaps in front of Harry’s face. “Bro. Stop staring.” 

Harry forces his eyes to look away, brows still furrowed grumpily. “Wasn’t staring,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the wall and going into the lecture hall. 

“You were,” he responds, following closely behind. “She’s really nice… I dunno why you hate her.”

“Who says I hate her?” Harry scoffs. “I never talk to her.” Especially as of late, she’s quiet as a mouse around him. He was over at her apartment to pick Blake up the other day and she’d only said a quiet “hi” before scurrying back into her room, like a scared little bunny in the presence of a snake or something. 

“Well… I mean, you could be nicer.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

Blake hesitates. “Like… I dunno. Maddie says you made her cry.” 

“Huh?” He thinks back to that night… “How was that my fault?” All he’d done was driven her home and tucked her into bed? She just started crying on her own!

“She’s just kind of sensitive,” says Blake. “I know you probably weren’t trying to mean, but you’re definitely not sunshine and rainbows. You’re scary, did y’know that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Everyone seems to have this preconceived notion that Harry's this huge dick who never smiles… and though it’s true that he rarely smiles in the presence of strangers, he’s not an asshole! He just doesn’t feel like wasting his energy in pretending to like people he doesn’t actually like. Or smile when it’s much more comfortable to furrow his brows and pout grumpily. 

And he finds that usually his grumpy demeanor works in his favor – people stay out of his way, and he gets to avoid the headache that comes with interacting with people. But now this girl… this sunshine girl who always has her nose in a little book and always says please and thank you and is nice to everyone and stumbles over herself like a little puppy who's learning how to walk… she’s gone on and made him feel bad about it. 

How annoying is that? To have the nicest person on the planet think you’re scary?  

“I wasn’t trying to make her cry,” he mutters, irritated. “I didn’t even say anything to her.”

“Well maybe that’s the problem. Like… just try. I think you’ll like her.”

He doesn’t think so. She’s too nice. They probably wouldn’t get along. 

+++

There are three things y/n does a lot.

The first is studying. Her grades come first, always. She’ll be at the library for hours at a time, snuggled up in a booth with an iced coffee and her color coded notes, studying until she can barely keep her eyes open. It’s unhealthy, and she really should take breaks more often… but she just gets really nervous about her grades! 

She’s used to being at the top of her class, and has always been a straight A student.  But recently, she’s been struggling. She’s doing fine in her chemistry class, and absolutely thriving in biology. But calculus… calculus is her worst enemy.

The second thing she does a lot is reading. She’s been a bookworm for as long as she can remember. Her most frequent genre is romance (obviously!), but she’ll dabble a little bit in the popular fantasy series, maybe pick up a thriller every once in a while. And if she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll try to read one of the classics… something philosophical, like Camus, or maybe something a little heavier, like War and Peace. But those situations are rare. She prefers her little world of romance.

The third thing that y/n does a lot… is cry. 

She’ll cry if she watches a sad movie, she’ll cry over a sad book. She cried when Finnick died in The Hunger Games, and she cried when she finished Of Mice and Men. She cries every single time she watches Pride and Prejudice (2005), sobs her eyes out when Mr. Darcy says, “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love- I love- I love you.”

She cries if someone yells at her, and she cries if she thinks someone doesn’t like her. She cries almost every time she’s drunk (example: when Harry drove her home), and she cries in the middle of the night when she’s feeling homesick. She cries for no reason when she’s getting close to her period… and sometimes, she cries because she’s just lonely.

Now, you might be thinking… y/n sounds super annoying. But please don’t think that! That would also probably make her cry.

She’s just a tad bit sensitive! She has so many emotions in her little heart, and she’s trying so hard to be responsible and manage life as a young adult but at the end of the day she’s just a girl!!! She’s just a girl, and she’s tired and stressed out and lonely and touch deprived, and sometimes she has a hard time keeping everything together so she just… cries.

If she could control it, she would! Do you really think she wants to be crying in the library? Of course, not! It’s embarrassing, and she’s trying really hard to keep her sniffles quiet and to suck the tears back into her eyeballs… but when she’s sad, she can’t stop the tears.

So now she’s crying in the library. And it’s all because of Issac Newton.

Why did he have to invent calculus? Like, what was even the point? Why did she, as a girl studying ecology, have to take this stupid class?

She buries her face in her arms, the tears unstoppable at this point, and just hopes that anyone walking past will think she’s napping and not crying her eyes out. 

She’d studied really hard for that last midterm. Like– she’d literally been in the library for a week straight, just doing calculus problems over and over again. She went to office hours to get help on all the questions she was stuck on, and was watching the Organic Chemistry Tutor’s videos religiously. She did so much math that she was literally having dreams about doing calculus. 

And yet, even with all of her studying, she still managed to fail the midterm. Like… she seriously failed it. As in, if she doesn’t get an A on the final, she will literally have to retake the class.

She’s so sad. She’s never gotten a grade this low, ever in her life. And she’d tried so hard!!! The morning of the midterm, she’d actually felt confident! She thought she had it in the bag!

She was so, so wrong. 

She feels stupid – not just because she failed the midterm, but because she’s literally having a breakdown about it in the library. 

This is stupid. Everything is stupid. School is stupid, Issac Newton is stupid, calculus is stupid–

“Y/n?” 

Uh oh. She tries to wipe away her tears discreetly, licking her lips and clearing her throat and desperately hoping that it’s not obvious that she’s been crying. 

When she lifts her head, she finds Harry standing in front of her. “Why’re you crying?” he asks bluntly, looking down at her with his brows furrowed.

Ok. So it is obvious.

“Um,” she sniffles, “Hi Harry.” She hopes that maybe if she pretends like everything is fine, then he won’t pry any further. 

It doesn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again. There’s not much compassion or comfort in his voice. Same old grumpy Harry, so blank and impassive. 

She shrugs her shoulders, feeling small and embarrassed. “I– it’s silly,” she stammers, looking down at her fingers. 

Harry doesn’t say anything, staring at her and waiting for her to continue. 

She swallows thickly. “I failed my midterm,” she whispers, her voice catching as a new lump grows in her throat. 

“How bad?”

One lone tear falls down her face as she shakes her head disappointedly, which she wipes away quickly. “Really bad,” she whimpers. Her cheeks burn hot as she realizes that she can’t hold back the tears any longer. She quickly averts her eyes from him, staring into her lap and hoping that he can’t see her face.

This is the second time he’s seen her cry, which is two times more than she would like. He probably thinks she’s some silly, over emotional girl… probably thinks she’s so annoying. She just wants to curl up in a ball, hide in a dark hole and cry by herself. She can’t handle Harry’s judgment on top of her shitty midterm grade.  

He stands there silently for a moment. Her lower lip has pouted out cutely and he can hear her sniffling quietly. “Was it math?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” she grumbles sadly. Stupid math. 

He hums. After another tense moment he asks, “Do you want help?”

“Help with what?” She stares down at her fingers, her tone dejected. The happy glimmer that usually sparkles in her eye is gone. 

“With math,” he clarifies. “I can help you.”

She looks up at him curiously, still pouting. “You’d help me with math?”

He nods, pulling out the chair next to her. “Let me see your midterm,” he says, nodding his head towards the packet of math problems she’d just been sobbing over. Embarrassingly, the front page is stained with a few tears, but she hands it over nonetheless. 

He scans over the first page quickly, reading the question and seeing how she answered it. “Do you know why you got this one wrong?” 

She sniffles and shrugs. She hadn’t even tried to look over the questions, too mentally exhausted to even try and understand what mistakes she’d made. 

“Look. You tried to cancel out the tan3x, which would make sense in any other case… but since it’s to the power of 4 you could really easily have used integration by parts.”

“Wish I knew that before I took the fucking midterm,” she huffs.

“Hey,” he tsks. “Learn from your mistakes so that you don’t make them again. You need to know this stuff to do integral tests later.”

She shakes her head. “I tried so hard, Harry,” she barely whispers, her voice exhausted. “Like I studied so much, and I really really tried to make it all make sense. But it’s just so hard for me.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Harry. 

She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to give up.

He purses his lips, brows furrowed. There’s something about seeing y/n upset that just feels so wrong. She usually brings so much… light into a room. Seeing her cry makes it seem like the entire universe has gotten a little sadder. 

“You’ve got the right idea when you’re solving these…” he tries to comfort her (though he’s never really been good at comforting people), “It’s just little things that you’re doing wrong. And it’s probably because you’ve got a shit professor who just has you copy down problems.”

“That’s literally all we do!” she whines, not even caring if she sounds like a baby. “He does the problems so fast and then I have to go home and try and figure out how he did it all by myself!” She sniffles and puts her head in her hands, more tears dropping from her eyelashes. She’s exhausted, her head starting to hurt as she exhales a shuddery breath. 

He lets her cry a little bit. “Listen,” he says gently, turning to face her. The normal furrow in his brow is gone, his gaze a little bit softer. “Next time you come over with Maddie, bring your notes and we can go over them together, okay?”

She sniffles. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” 

“Like actually?”

“Yes,” he says again exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He stands up from the table and puts her midterm back down in front of her. “Lighten up, sunshine. One bad score is not the end of the world.” 

She feels a bit silly now that Harry’s witnessed her having another breakdown in the library. But, despite how little he said… he actually helped her calm down. This was not the end of the world. 

“Okay,” she whispers, “thanks, Harry.” 

He nods and walks away. 

Maybe he doesn’t hate her, she thinks to herself. 

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

“I’m going out,” Maddie says as she walks into the kitchen, discarding her half full coffee mug on the counter as she grabs her car keys from the hook in front of the door. 

“Your mug!” y/n tuts like a mother. Maddie rolls her eyes as she pours the last of her coffee down the sink and puts the mug in the dishwasher. Y/n ignores the dramatic eye roll, knowing that Maddie’s just playing around, and asks, “Where are you going?”

“Over to Blake’s,” she responds with a wink. She’s been telling y/n about how she’s been waiting for Blake to text her all week because she doesn’t want to be the one texting first all the time… weird situation-ship stuff that y/n’s never experienced before. Seems like he finally texted her, with how excited Maddie is to be going over. 

Just as Maddie is about to step out the door, y/n remembers Harry’s offer. He’d been serious, right? He hadn’t just said that because she was crying… right? She really hopes not, because she really could use his help. She’d been up for hours last night, trying to do the homework, but ultimately giving up because she got too frustrated with herself. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to help her?

“Wait!” y/n calls out, “Um… can I come with you?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “Why do you want to come over to Blake’s apartment?”

Y/n turns a bit shy, “Harry… he’s, um, helping me with math.”

“Harry?” Maddie’s eyes glimmer curiously. “He’s literally such a dick. He’s helping you?”

“He’s not that bad…” y/n mumbles, remembering the ounce of kindness he’d shown to her in the library the other day. He’s just a little bit… reserved, she’s started to realize.

“Please. He literally never smiles. I dunno how you got him to talk to you, he always ignores me when I’m over.” 

(Honestly, she doesn’t blame Harry for not talking to Maddie… she sometimes ignores Maddie in her own apartment too…)

“You have two minutes to meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you!”

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

With her schoolbag in hand, y/n taps lightly on Harry’s door. Blake had told her to just go in, but she feels like that’s rude, so she stands in front of his door nervously and waits patiently for him to open. 

“What?” he grunts, opening his bedroom door. “Oh.” The furrow in his brow softens the slightest bit when he sees it’s y/n. He’d thought it was Blake bugging him about something. Y/n is a much… nicer surprise. 

“Hi,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lip nervously. “I was wondering if… um, you could help me out with my calc stuff?” 

He stares at her for a second, then says, “yeah.” 

He opens the door wider and she follows him in. His room is messy, but not gross. The bed is unmade, three half full water bottles on his nightstand, and there’s a pair of sweatpants on the floor… but at least it doesn’t stink!

His computer screen is paused mid-game, and she realizes that he’d still been holding his controller when he’d opened up the door for her. He throws a jacket that had been thrown on the back of his chair onto the bed, and motions for her to sit. Then he pulls up another chair that was sitting in the corner of his room to sit next to her. 

“Let’s see it,” he says, shutting down his computer. 

“So…” she takes her laptop out of her bag, setting it down on his desk and turning it on so that she can open up her homework assignment. While it loads, she unlocks her ipad to the scratch work she’d done last night. “I was trying to do the homework last night, and I think I’m supposed to be doing integration by parts but honestly I’m not even sure how to do that… so I’m kind of lost.” 

Harry leans over her ipad and looks at the work she’d done. It’s… wrong. 

“Can I see your notes for integration by parts?” He asks, trying to figure out how she ended up with 1 as her answer when it should be a much larger, much more complicated mix of trig and integrals. She scrolls up until she lands on a page titled Chapter 7, and points to the second example on the problem. Her notes are cute, written in pink with girlish, bubbly handwriting. However, it’s clear that she’d been struggling to keep up with the lecture, some of her work completely scribbled out and replaced with messy numbers and formulas. Next to one of the big portions of scribbled out math, she's written “WHAT???” along with a sad face doodled underneath it.

Clearly she’s a bit confused. 

“Okay…” he scrolls down to a new page in her digital notebook and copies down the example problem that had confused her. “Let me show you how you do integration by parts first, and then we’ll look at the homework problem, okay?”

“M’kay,” she hums compliantly, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her sleeves. She feels a bit… nervous. She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s stupid. But she’d rather have her ego a little bruised than fail the next midterm too. 

“So… you do integration by parts when you can’t just do normal integration… usually if there’s e^x in there or a natural log then you know that you have to do integration by parts.” 

She nods, following along quietly. 

“In this one… you have x times e^x dx… you have to break it up into two parts, U and dV. And then you take the derivative of U and find the integral of dV. And you plug that into the formula. Do you know the formula?”

She blinks at him. “Um…” she shuffles through her notes and finds it. “It’s this.” 

“Good… so what you do is you assign x to either U or dV and then e^x(dx) to the other… and then you find dU and V based off of that. Should we make x be U or dV?”

She purses her lips, “Make x=U?”

“Yes…” he nods. “Do you know why?” 

She shrugs. “I guessed.” 

His lip quirks up in the first smile y/n’s ever seen from him, a slight dimple popping up in his cheek. “S’cos we have to either find the derivative of U, or find the integral of dV. It’s way easier to use the derivative of x, cause it’s just one. If we made x equal to dV… then we’d add a fraction and a power of two to our equation and it’ll just make things ugly.”

“Oh.” She stares at his hands as he writes down what he just said in math terms, scribbling in his boyish handwriting that U=x and dU=1. “Okay.”

“So if U=x, then dV is equal to….”

“e^x?” she answers. 

“Good,” he says gently. “And what is V?”

She stays silent for a moment, searching the paper as if it’ll give her an answer. He senses her confusion and helps her out, saying, “IF V is the integral of dV, and dV is e^x…” 

“Well Isn’t the integral of e^x still e^x?” Her voice is unconfident, looking up at Harry with wide, round eyes.

“You’re right,” he says encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. “Stop doubting yourself so much.”

A reciprocating smile spreads on her face, feeling a little more confident with Harry’s praise. 

“All you do now is put your numbers into the formula. Can you do it?”

He hands the pen over to her, their fingers brushing. Her hair falls in front of her face as she leans over the page to write down her answer, and Harry watches softly as she tucks it back behind her ear. He notices how long and delicate her eyelashes are as he stares at her side profile.

“Is that right?” she asks quietly, trying hard to be confident but still so nervous that she’s done it wrong.

He tears his eyes away from her face. “Almost,” he says, leaning forward. Their arms brush against each other, the space that they initially had set between their chairs having shrunk as they worked on the problem together. She can feel his breath as he quietly murmurs next to her ear, “You just need to add +C at the end.” 

She furrows her eyebrows and turns her head towards him, and feels her heart stutter as she realizes how close their faces actually are. “What does the +C mean?”

“It’s just like… it’s supposed to represent any constants that we couldn’t find. Because when you take the derivative of a constant it just ends up being zero, so when you’re given an integral and doing the anti-differential process… you don’t know if there was actually a constant there or what it was. So the +C is just representing any constant value that could’ve been in the answer, even though you don’t know what the number is.”

She blinks at him. “Um… okay. I’ll just pretend like that made sense.”

He chuckles, the first time she’s probably ever heard him laugh. “It’s honestly not that important to get it. Just remember to add +C every time you take an integral.”

“Got it…” she says, adding the +C. 

“Think you can do the next one on your own?” 

+++

“Harry,” y/n pouts. “It says I’m wrong but I dunno why.” 

He pauses his game and slides out of his seat, going over to y/n. She’d relocated to his bed after they did a couple more problems together and felt confident enough to do the rest by herself. His chest brushing against her back softly as he leans over her shoulder, going over her work. “What’s the integral of sin(x)?”

“Cos(x),” she says confidently.

“Not quite…”

She sits there for a second, brows furrowed. “Oh!” she adds a negative in front of the cos(x).

“There you go,” he grins down at her. 

She lays down on his bed, her hair splaying out behind her as she throws her ipad on his bed, relieved. “Harry. You’re a genius.” 

He laughs, a quiet huff of air that passes out of his nose with an amused smile on his face. “So it makes sense?”

“I think you should be teaching our class. You’re so good. Thank you for helping me.”

He hums, giving her a satisfied smirk, and goes back to his game while she finishes her homework. It's a strange setup, sitting in his bed and doing her homework while he plays, but she doesn’t mind it. 

In fact, it’s kind of nice.

Harry’s kind of nice.

She kind of likes Harry.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

hope u guys loved it!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (july 29) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine - part 2 (already posted on patreon!) : In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #grumpyrry #grumpy harry #mean harry

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

----

some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

#kind of want to write more bestfriend!felix at some point #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

[ghostlywhiskey]

“oh, come on,” your mother pleads on the other end of the phone. the majority of the phone call thus far revolving around the fact you broke the news about seeing someone new. and in motherly fashion, she immediately started asking away about his name, age, occupation, and everything in between. but of course, the main question and request she had was: can you send me pictures?

“mom,” you sigh as you move around your apartment with her on speaker as you tidy up. “you’ll meet him when i bring him for dinner this weekend.”

it wasn’t that you had a lack of photos or anything, but you knew your mother better than anyone else. the second you send those photos, it would be sent to family members, the neighbors that knew you since birth, and her close friends.

“please?” she begged again, which immediately caused you to accept defeat. you'd never hear the end of it.

quickly selecting two photos from your camera roll, you sent them over to her and quietly mumbled that she should have gotten them.

“oh, sweetheart,” it was practically a squeal from her end, the sound of her typing catching your attention as well. those photos were about to be shared with nearly everyone she knew. “he’s so handsome. how old did you say he was again?”

sighing quietly and away from your phone to avoid her hearing, you politely figure a way to end the call. “i love you, but i have to go. promise you can ask all the questions you want when we come for dinner.” when the words leave your mouth, you realize you’ll regret them when dinner actually happens.

and its later that night when your phone rings, your body sat on price’s lap. his hands reach to hold your head in place to prevent you from pulling away, mumbling to let it just go to voicemail. tugging your head away, you pull from the kiss and see 'aunt rebecca' lighting up your phone screen; your finger quickly presses the accept call button as you sit upright on price's lap.

"hi aunt becca," you speak into the phone, eyes glancing up at the ceiling briefly before looking back down at price. his hands resting on your thighs to give them a gentle squeeze before moving them up and down soothingly while you take the call.

"your mother told me about your new boyfriend!" her exclaim blaring through the phone speaker, and you can't help but press a hand to your forehead and drag it down.

"did she? i'm assuming she sent you photos too."

"darling, you better hold onto that one," she cooed, her excitement for your new relationship evident and praise loud enough for price to hear. a grin forming on his face indicating he can hear aunt becca's end of the call.

"photos?" price mouths up at you, hands giving your thighs another squeeze, but this time slightly higher up which causes you to squirm on his lap. your free hand reaches to gently swat at one of his hands, embarrassment running through your body. the poor man was the talk of your hometown thanks to your mom and he didn't even know.

"mhm," you hummed in response to your aunt, a forced chuckle vibrating your upper body. "i plan on it, aunt becca. listen, i'm a bit bus-"

"oh, he's right there, isn't he? i understand. i'll leave you two to be. tell him i said hello and i can't wait to meet him," she cheerily spoke, her goodbye quick and giving you no time to respond as the line went dead.

"so, photos?" this time, price spoke out loud and the grin still present on his face.

"shut up," you huffed, leaning back down and placing the phone on the nightstand before grabbing his face. lips quickly silencing him and anymore questions he might have.

#john price x reader #john price x reader fluff #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price fluff #captain john price x reader fluff #captain price x reader fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price cod #price cod #nic talks price #gw sfw price

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main part 6

Masterpost

This town is weird. Jason knows he shouldn’t be one to judge, considering Gotham and his own attachment to it. But this place is like a nightmare, stuck in time backwards-ness intermingled between the people and the place itself. It reminds him of Fawcett, which is not a good thing. He feels judged just walking down the street.

The head into a diner looking restaurant, fast food by the looks of it, that is in fact named Nasty Burger. Jason knows he shouldn’t judge. He’s doing it anyway.

There’s a girl behind the counter who seems to be glaring at Jason. Or Danny, but since he’s Jason right now, he decides he doesn’t need to deal with whatever her issue is. With little faith, Jason tells Jazz to order for him and goes to sit in a booth. 

The couple in the booth next to him watch him as he heads to his booth and gape at him as he sits down.

“Danny, come on.” The guy whines, he and the girl both stand and come over to sit across from him. “What was that? Don’t want to sit with us?”

 Jason tenses. “Uh.” 

“Hey guys!” Jazz says, coming to sit next to Jason. She places a tray with a burger, fries, and a soft drink in front of him and he eyes it warily. “This is Jason.”

They two across from them get these stupid dumbfounded looks. The girl behind the counter is listening to their conversation.

“Jason, these are Danny’s friends, Sam and Tucker.” Jazz motions to the girl and then the boy.

“Nice to meet you.” Jason inclines his head at them, and decides to try a fry.

“Is he…” Sam stops herself. “Does he know about Danny?”

“Not much, but they haven’t officially met yet, obviously.” Jazz is eating her food like it’s normal, so Jason follows her lead on the burger as well. “Danny should be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Where is Danny now?” Tucker asks, concerned.

“With my family.” Sam and Tucker look at him strangely. He can tell they’re concerned for their friend though. “He’s being driven back now, they’re rotating drivers so they don’t have to stop for the night. He’ll be here as soon as he can.” 

“Danny will be fine until he gets back.” Jazz comforts them. “Danny was more concerned about Jason, considering the food at our house.”

Sam and Tucker tense in response. “Right. I’d be worried about that too. Might want to stay at the house after this anyway.” Sam says lightly. Jason can tell he’s being talked around. Can hear them talking about something they don’t want him to know under the guise of their conversation, but he doesn’t know enough to make sense of it. 

“Let us know if anything comes up of course, but Danny won’t be able to hang out for a while.” Jazz smiles at them, but her eyes are concerned.

“Sure thing.” Tucker says. 

“If you guys want to have a chat where you can actually talk to each other, I can leave you along for a bit.” Jason tells them all. 

“No!” Tucker says quickly. They don't seem like they care that he caught on, there's no shame to be excluding him. They all just seem worried about something. “Best you stay with Jazz.” He turns back to her. “The GIW tools were deactivated. The whole fiasco yesterday was a lot for everyone. But they should be up and running again by tomorrow.”

Jazz nods at them and Sam and Tucker leave, whisper-arguing to each other as they go.

They eat quietly for a minute, but Jazz stiffens as she looks at something out the window.

Jason follows her gaze to see her tracking a man outside. He’s pretty smarmy looking. Long grey hair, in a full suit, seems like more Brucie’s crowd than someone who would be in a place called Nasty Burger. But he’s spotted them through the window and does seem to be on his way in. ““Hey Jason, would it be cool if you went to the bathroom for a second? Nevermind, there’s no time, follow my lead.”

The man walks right up to their booth.

“Daniel, Jasmine, lovely to see you both.”

“Vlad, can we help you?” Jazz asks politely, Jason just glares at them man.

“You know I always love to see you, but I would like to speak with Daniel for a moment.”

“Unfortunately, Danny and I have places to be, Vlad. I’m sure my parents would love to speak with you though. Dad has been meaning to stop by.” Jazz gathers the trash and remnants of their meal and stands, going to throw them away. Jason gets up to follow her, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He feels a tickle in his throat and his next breath comes out cold and foggy, visible in the air. 

“Daniel, don’t you want to have a talk?” The hand on his shoulder is forceful.

“Don’t touch me.” Jason turns himself out of his grasp, backing away towards the door. Jazz pulls him quickly back onto the street towards home.

“Who the hell was that guy?”

“Danny’s godfather, friend of our parents. They went to college together.”

They’re walking past an alley when Jason feels that tickle again, he stops as his breath comes out cold, then something rams into him, pushing him to the ground farther in the alley.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dead on main #soulmate au #danny phantom #red hood #my writing #fanfiction

[werecreature-addicted]

Do you remember your writings about a minotaur and a farmer girl? Well, how about this, one night there is a party in the small town, you know, and that day both humans and monsters attend, it is a day when everyone can have fun and relax, humans, werewolves, half-snake creatures, orcs, minotaurs, etc, anyway, in the town the minotaur realizes that the girl he lives with is somewhat "popular" among some humans and monsters, since it shows that some have an interest in her, you know, they are in love with her, and well this is something that makes our minotaur jealous 🤭

part one, two, three. and for those who didn't see the Minotaur's name is Sam now.

Sam looks up at the dazzling lights that flit through the night sky. Fireflies glow in the dark like stars. Children run around with glass jars trying to catch the small insects. There's so much noise, it's a little overwhelming, children shrieking in delight, groups of people talking loudly, and a little further down a band was playing.

You reach out and squeeze his hand, reminding him that he isn't alone.

"It's pretty, isn't it? I'm so glad you decided to come to the solstice festival with me," you say smiling. It is a beautiful summer night, and having you with him makes it all the better. he can't help but think that you're pretty tonight too.

"You've been begging me for weeks to come with you, I couldn't say no," he murmurs. it wasn't quite true, you'd just been hinting over and over again that he should come out with you tonight. You laugh and squeeze his hand again before letting go completely, and he fights the urge to pull your hand back in his and cling to you a little longer. Sam craves your touch more than he should, your hands are warm, and small in his, and they make him feel at ease in a place like this, surrounded by noisy strangers. Even though he's out of his element, he is glad he came, he feels better knowing he can keep an eye on you, and keep you safe, should the need arise.

You'd promised him other nonhumans would be there tonight, and you'd spoken the truth. everywhere you looked there were werewolves, nagas, and some paler humans he could only assume were vampires, Still, he felt like he stood out, he was a good foot taller than anyone else here, and he did notice the nervous glances he was getting. He gets it. he's big and scary, covered in scars, and has a broken horn.

The people of the town surprise him. many people came up to him and started a conversation, even though they were clearly nervous. He hated it. And he hated that he hated it. He still wasn't good at talking to anyone who wasn't you, just because you're nice and treat him with respect doesn't mean All humans are like that, he knows all too well just how cruel most of your kind can be.

That being said, most people coming up to him weren't actually there for him but for you. He knew you were lovely, kind, charming, and attractive, but he's a little surprised that so many others thought the same. It seemed like half the town wanted to catch up, buy you a drink, take you for a dance. humans and monsters alike.

He feels the jealousy spike, he wants to hoard your attention, and selfishly keep you all to himself. The two of you were basically alone on the farm, he'd almost forgotten what it was like to have to share your attention. and it's not a welcome change. Luckily for him, you don't seem eager to leave his side. You politely turn down the handsome werewolf who asked you for a dance. You seem perfectly committed to staying by his side this whole night, just like you promised you would. there are no words for how grateful he is that that's true.

"I don't know how to dance," he admits softly as the werewolf walks away.

"What?" you ask, not following his train of thought.

"I mean. if you want to dance tonight, that's not something you can do with me," he explains, his mood darkening as he thinks about the things you couldn't do with him that you could with a more normal man. He thinks about all the people who've talked to you tonight, any one of them would make a better more stable partner than him. He feels guilty for wanting you, especially when he considers how much he doesn't deserve you.

"No one was born knowing how to dance, Sam, it's a skill, you practice and you learn. If you want I can teach you," you offer. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, He'd fought countless bloody fights and none of that was as terrifying as the idea of trying to learn to dance in front of such a large crowd. You laugh lightly seeing the look on his face,

"At home, I'll teach you when we're alone, besides this-" you gesture to the band playing "-isn't really my style, I'll figure something better for us to dance to," you assure him, and he relaxes. Dancing, alone with you, at home. your shared home. it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Love is not a word that he never uses ever, and he rarely even allows himself to think it, but he's not sure how much longer he can keep the words inside. He's sure that if you really do teach him to dance that will be his breaking point, or maybe he wouldn't say "I love you" but he might just kiss you deeply instead. Then again, maybe he should, if you were officially his it might keep some of the other men in town away from you. He wouldn't mind that at all.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #minotaur x reader #minotaur boyfriend #minotaur

[togrowoldinv]

Meteors

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you start working on the Barton’s farm, you meet Natasha

Note: It’s been wayyy too long since I’ve been able to make time to write. Hope y’all enjoy this Nat fluff!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha watches from the front porch as a truck she’s unfamiliar with pulls up in the driveway. Just when she’s about to go ask Laura if she had any idea who was arriving, the woman steps out onto the porch.

“Right on time,” Laura comments mostly to herself.

“Who’s this?” Natasha asks, her attention is piqued.

“The new farmhand,” Laura explains. “She’s been working here every week for about a month now. Clint didn’t tell you?”

Nat shakes her head.

“Well, she’s pretty great at it,” the older woman continues. “Come meet her.”

Natasha follows Laura down the steps and to the truck. You are unloading a bale of hay from the bed of the truck when they walk up.

“Hello!” Laura greets you. She’s always so kind. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” you reply before turning around to actually see her. “How are you?”

You drop the bale onto the group and turn to see more than one person standing there.

“Oh hi,” you say to the new person. She politely lifts the corners of her lips, but doesn’t quite smile at you.

“This is Nat,” Laura says. “Nat, this is y/n.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out for her shake. She takes it in hers and the eye contact you make lingers.

“Oh, I forgot I have cookies in the oven,” Laura says. “I’ll be back. Nat why don’t you get to know y/n a bit.”

With that, Laura leaves you there with this beautiful stranger. God, she really is beautiful. You both stand there a little awkwardly before you make a move to talk to her more.

“So, how do you know the Bartons?” You ask.

“I work with Clint,” Nat says. You try not to let yourself go weak in the knees at hearing her voice for the first time. “You’re probably familiar with what we do.”

“Partially,” you say with a soft laugh. “I better get started for the day. I’ll see you around?”

Nat nods and walks back towards the house. You work the rest of the day with Natasha on your mind. She had uttered barely ten words to you, and yet you can’t get her out of your head.

A few days go by before you see her again. It’s early in the morning when you arrive. Natasha is sitting in a rocking chair with baby Nate in her arms. You walk to the porch to say hello.

“Good morning,” you greet her.

“Good morning, y/n,” she says. You try memorize the way your name sounds coming from her lips.

“He’s up early,” you comment.

“Yeah, a little too early. I offered to hang out with him while Clint and Laura sleep in,” Nat replies.

You smile at that.

“You’re here earlier today,” Nat says. You try not to overanalyze why she knows your schedule so well. It’s probably just the spy in her, you think.

“I am indeed. The cows need some extra work today, so I got here early,” you explain. “Come on out to pasture if you get bored. I’ll be there all day.”

“I just might do that,” Natasha replies.

You get a boost of confidence from her words. After you bid her a farewell for now, you drive out to the cattle field.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Barton family wakes up. The kids eat breakfast and start chores. Clint asks Nat to help him with some outside work.

A few hours go by and Laura calls everyone in for lunch. Natasha looks around the kitchen for you, but she doesn’t see you.

“Is y/n eating with us?” She asks.

“She likes to stay out there and work, so I usually take her some food after we eat,” Laura explains. She tries to read Nat’s expression. “You could take it to her today if you want.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah I can do that,” Nat says.

Laura smiles knowingly. The family eats and then Natasha makes her way to you.

At the sight of you wrangling cows, she can’t help but smile. You’ve shed the light jacket you were wearing this morning and she can see how strong you are.

“Oh hey, Natasha!” You say once you see her.

“Hey,” she replies, her head cocked to the side a little to examine your current position. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”

“Probably not,” you reply. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Lunch,” Nat says. “Laura’s famous grilled cheese.”

You walk away from the cows and towards Natasha. She stands by the truck, so you open the tailgate and sit on it. You pat the area next to you as a way to ask her to sit.

She hands you the lunch bag and lightly blushes when your hand touches hers.

“Thank you, Nat,” you say. “Wait, do you prefer Nat or Natasha?”

“Either one,” she says, shrugging. “Technically my name isn’t Natasha, but I’ve always gone by that.”

“That is a fun fact,” you say. Nat laughs. You try to memorize the sound. “I like Natasha.”

“Then call me Natasha,” she says.

There’s a silence, but it’s not awkward. You eat your sandwich and watch the animals move around the farm. You wonder what Natasha is thinking about as she swings her legs and sits next to you.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” the redhead breaks the silence. “I feel like I can actually think and be free.”

“Yeah, I love it. Being out on a farm is my comfort place. So far, this one is my favorite,” you say.

“Why’s that?”

“The people. Clint, Laura, the kids,” you say. “And you.”

“I’m already a reason?”

“You were a reason I love this place the second I met you,” you say. You didn’t mean for it to come across so cheesily, but Nat doesn’t seem to mind. “Hey, how long are you staying here for?”

“A few more weeks maybe,” Natasha says. “Why?”

“In two weeks there’s supposed to be a meteor shower. Maybe we could come out in the field and watch it together?”

“Sounds fun,” Nat says, trying to act casual.

“I better get back to helping Clint. He’ll be pissed I let him stack bricks alone.”

You chuckle at her words. You want to ask her to stay, but at least you know you’ll be seeing her around.

And from that point on, Natasha brings you lunch every day. Laura doesn’t even have to ask her to do it. Nat wants to. She seems to sit with you longer and longer each day.

It all leads up to the night of the meteor shower. You wear a nice shirt and jeans and drive over to the farm.

When you knock on the door, Lila answers. You greet the family and have dinner with them. Natasha is in her element here. You can see how she lights up around the kids. And she loves watching you interact with them too.

Once dinner is over, you and Natasha sneak outside. You drive out to the field and lay a blanket down in the bed of the truck.

“Very fancy,” Nat comments.

“Only the best for you, Natasha,” you joke. “Laying down is the best way to see it.”

You both lie down a respectable distance from each other, but close enough that you both have butterflies.

“You know when I was a kid, I loved anything that glowed in the sky,” Nat opens up. “Stars, planets, and things that didn’t even really have to do with the sky. Like fireflies.”

“That’s really sweet, Natasha. I love those too,” you say. “There’s so many out here in the summer.”

“I wish I saw them more.”

“You’ve gotta move out here I guess,” you say. “Oh look!”

You point to the first meteor falling. Nat watches with bright eyes. You can’t drag your eyes away from the way she glows in the night light. Her green eyes are illuminated by the scene happening in the sky.

Natasha turns her head to the side and catches you staring.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away a bit.

“Don’t be,” Nat says. “But you are missing the show up there.”

“It’s fun to watch you watch it,” you say. “You’re beautiful, you know?”

Natasha definitely blushes at that. Her hand finds yours between the two of you. You’re it sure who leans in first, but you end up just centimeters from her lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Natasha asks.

“Please,” you reply.

The distance is shattered between the two of you. Natasha’s kiss is soft, but firm. Her intentions are clear as she moves her perfect lips over yours.

“Now we’re both missing the show up there,” Natasha jokes when she pulls away.

“So worth it,” you say.

You kiss Natasha again. And again. And a few more times before you decide to go back to the house.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” You ask her once you’ve walked up to the front door together.

“Yes,” Natasha says. “Thanks for tonight, y/n. I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time.”

“Anytime, Natasha. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she says.

You hug her for the first time and love the way she feels in your arms. It’s like she is perfectly shaped to be in your grasp.

You share a brief kiss before you let her go inside. As you walk back to the truck, you can’t help but do a little happy dance. Natasha watches through the window and laughs.

This is the start of something amazing. You can feel it.

You’re falling for her faster than the meteors fell in the sky. Little do you know, she’s falling for you in the exact same way.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

[cassie48]

𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻

King Hal x fem reader.

A/N: In which the king isn’t happy with how his wife, the queen is treated.

(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(

You were chosen to be queen. Hal himself wanted you. But, in some ways, a lot of ways actually, you felt you weren’t meant to be a queen. You were very quiet and innocent, to scared to correct someone or stand up for yourself.

Now, Hal was always there to stand up for you, he was really very protective of you. He threatened men that mocked you, and declared to the people of England that you were his wife, and that they must accept that.

On this particular day, you were sat on a bench in a secluded area of the gardens, hiding from everyone, crying. Earlier that day there had been an incident, leading you to hide away from your husband and those he would send to look for you.

You had been on a stroll, earlier that day. You often went on strolls when Hal would have meetings. On this particular morning, you bumped into a man that served Paul. He was a sort of advisor and helped him stay in order. George, was his name.

You had never really warmed to him, as he constantly made you uncomfortable. He would send you odd looks, when Hal wasn’t looking, sometimes in places that no man but Hal should be looking.

“Sorry George” You said looking at the ground.

“Oh it’s fine your majesty, it’s my fault” he said with a disgusting smirk.

“Do you know where Hal is?” Your sweet voice said, wanting to see your husband.

“He’s busy right now” he told you.

You nodded turning to continue on your walk, when his voice continued.

“I could accompany you, you know” George said not even bothering to address you respectfully.

“Oh, it’s fine, really” you said going to turn.

“Are you sure, I’d like to” he said, clearly wanting you to agree to go with him.

“No really, it would be…improper” you said, with a polite smile, trying to leave.

But, to your shock, he grabbed your upper arm roughly, tracing his finger over your body.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the improper girl” he whispered, his fingers sickly travelling all over you.

“W-What?” You said your voice trembling, pulling back slightly, but it didn’t work.

“The men talk, say that you’ve been quite 𝘐𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳” he said with a menacing smile.

This was when you lost it, you stared to ball your eyes out, ripping yourself away from his hold, running off to hide in the gardens, crying as you did, that’s where you found the little bench.

(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.O)(O.

At that same time, Paul was leaving his meeting room, going to see you in your chambers. This was a daily routine for him, he truly loved him.

But a scowl made its way on his face when you weren’t there. “Where is the queen?” He yelled at the servants in the room.

“We, aren’t sure, your majesty” a man answered staring at the ground in fear.

“Is it not your job to take care of her when I’m not?” He yelled rage dripping from his voice as he grew more worried.

“Find her” he demanded with a cold voice.

They all scrambled, running in all directions to search for you, fearing for their lives if they didn’t.

Around an hour later, there was still no sign of you, Hal was getting very impatient. So he went to look for you himself.

He knew your favourite places in the castle and he knew one of which was the gardens, so he made his way there. He had searched almost all the gardens, until her heard a soft crying.

Hal eventually found you on that bench, as soon as he saw you, he was 𝘔𝘢𝘥.

“My love? What’s wrong?” He asked as he sat on the bench too, placing you on his lap.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, continuing to cry loudly into his chest.

“Are you hurt?” He asked with a concerned look on his face.

You nodded your head no and hugged onto him tighter, as the tears fell down your face.

“Love, you have to tell me what’s wrong, so I can fix it” he said kissing your head.

“It was…g-george” you cried.

“What about 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦?” He said, his face suddenly becoming cold.

“He, he said I was an improper lady! And h-he was touching me Hal” you hiccuped.

Hals phase froze in anger and shock. George was in the room when Hal first threatened everyone about going near his wife. He made it very clear she was to be shown respect. George was one of his most trusted men. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

“I’ll deal with him, this won’t happen again” he said kissing your hand.

You eventually lifted your head from his chest, as he wiped your tears from your cheeks.

“C-Can we go for a walk?” Your gentle voice asked.

“Of course, anything for you” Hal answered lifting her off his lap onto the ground, and taking her hand in his.

They walked the grounds talking about everything and anything, happy to be in each others company.

You hugged his side, yawning, suddenly becoming very tired.

“Do you want to retire” he said, his arm around your waist.

You only nodded in response, and you both headed back to your chambers.

He ordered the maids to run a bath for you, before kissing you softly, telling you he had something to take care of, and he’d be back later.

Around one hour later, you lay in the bath, the bubbles covering your naked body, and your eyes closed, enjoying the heat.

The door swung open to reveal your husband once more, but this time with blood on his hands.

“Hal?” Your little voice squeaked.

“It’s not my blood, I only took care of something that needed to be handled” he said sitting beside you, and giving you a kiss on the forehead.

You nodded, your eyes heavy as you leaned into his touch. You yearned to be in bed.

Hal caught onto this, and ordered the maids to help you prepare for bed, and get into your nightdress.

“What did you do to him, George I mean” you whispered, playing with your fingers.

Hal smiled before saying “I taught him a lesson” and giving you a long kiss, and bidding you goodnight.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭,

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯.

A/n

I hope you all enjoyed, I’ve been wanting to write for Hal for some time now so finally I did!!

#timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #prince hal #king hal #henry v x reader #2024 #dune 2024 #paul atreides #timmy chalamet #the king 2019

[adventuringblind]

Hi, would you be able to write Oscar Piastri x Shy!reader. Maybe she’s absolutely stunning so other drivers go up to her and flirt with her but she doesn’t respond. Then they see her with Oscar and are a bit shocked.

Thanks 🤍✨

Shy

Oscar Piastri x reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: yes :)

Summary: Sometimes being shy makes people want to know more

Warnings: terrible flirting

Notes: I cracked myself up writing this because I am terrible at fluffy things. I love it.

Masterlist

To say you're shy is not exactly the word you would use. More like... particular.

Your words are few, and you like talking to the people who matter most in your life. Mingling at parties is not something you get joy out of.

When your friend decided to drag you out for the night, you were already frustrated. Even more so when everyone seemed to want to talk to you about their personal lives and amazing achievements.

Then there was Oscar.

You hid from the party in a quiet corner. The breath you'd been holding finally escaping through your teeth. Until He came around the corner.

His stupidly pretty eyes and fluffy hair caught you off guard. You blame the alcohol you had to help you get through this event.

"I take you your not one for parties?"

You wanted to say something snarky and sarcastic. But his voice was far to pleadent to let you do such a thing.

"It's okay, I'm not either, wanna get out of here?"

A simple proposal that changed everything. Oscar kept conversation going, and if you didn't feel like talking, he didn't care.

Sometimes, you would just bask in the comforting silence of each other. Words became unnecacry.

He obviously made the first move as you were far too shy to attempt an advance.

You blushed a lovely shade of red when he kissed you the first time.

And now you're here, traveling the world with him as much as possible, watching him race. It's funny how things work out.

You spend time walking around the paddock looking for the few friends you'd made. Lando being one of them. He teased you and Oscar relentlessly because of how private you are. The papaya colored Brit seemed to be the only one who knew you two were dating.

Other drivers had asked on multiple occasions if you were with Lando. The majority of them thought you were someone's relative and tried to hit on you.

The awful pick-up lines were becoming a running joke in the McLaren garage.

Finally, it became too much for you. The reporters wanted to know who you were. The drivers would nit leave you be despite your best attempts at politely telling the to 'fuck off.' And the fans were starting to get out of hand.

"You sure you want to do this? If your not comfortable with it I can always talk with the PR team."

"Yes, but this way will make them all shut up."

"Fair point."

You walk into the paddock with the two papaya boys that day. Again, you could see people's wheels turning.

Oscar dragged you to one of the skysports reporters, knowing they would be the best ones to get their point across.

Lando pulls his phone out to record, and Daniel, Esteban, and Carlos, who'd been trying to win you over, sidle up next to him. Confused as to why you're standing with Oscar, your hands intertwined.

"Oscar, it's great to see you! Can I ask who the lovely lady standing with you is?" Greets an enthusiastic Laura Winters. You'd always liked her the most.

"Actually, Laura, if it's alright with you, I have a request."

Laura eyes him skeptically as he whispers something in her ear. She nods enthusiasticly, which is a good sign to you.

Oscar turns to you and takes your hands in his. You were expecting him to kiss you. Prepared for it all week. You'd already deleted your social media.

It's a real shock when he gets down on one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket.

Lando is squealing in excitement. The drivers next to him stand frozen, their mouth hanging wide.

You mimick that.

"So I know we planned to just kiss so everyone would finally leave you alone, but I thought this would be even better." A blush creeps across his face, and Laura is grinning so widely you think it might fall off. "I've known since pretty early on that I wanted to spend my life with you, regardless of if anyone says we're too young. I've never cared what they thought, and I'm not starting now. You are the most amazing person I've had the pleasure of meeting. Your witty comments reserved only for me make me feel incredibly lucky. You make me feel important, and I hope I make you feel the same. I want that, forever and always. So, marry me?"

Just like with most times in your life, words don't come easy. You manage to squeak a quiet yes, barely Audible to anyone but Oscar. But he's trained his ears to hear everything you say.

He places the ring on your finger and spins you around in utter joy, landing a perfectly placed and loving kiss to your lips.

Everyone is clapping for you, and you couldn't be happier than I'm this moment. The rest of the world is falling away.

The drivers next to Lando are still processing.

"Did we ever have a chance?" Asks Daniel finally.

Lando snickers. "Afriad not, mate. She's been trying to tell you guys, and you didn't take her reactions as a hint. Looks like you wasted your time on a girl who had her heart stolen."

#x reader #fanficion #f1 fic #formula one #formula 1 #racing #angst #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #op81 #lando norris f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #mclaren f1 #mclaren racing #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #papaya #daniel riccardo x reader #carlos sainz x reader

[cheriladycl01]

Hey could you do Kimi Raikkonen x fem!reader where she is someone that run the events for the F1 and they just fall in love at first sight? MAJOR CUTENESS OVERLOD PLEASE!! Tag me later! Thanks :)

Please, just listen to me! - Kimi Räikkönen x F1EventOrganiser! Reader

Plot: You organise all of the events for the FIA and normally are in the fan zone, but with the FIA being short they need you organising the drivers events.

Credit to kimimraikkonen7 for the GIF

“Erm Seb, if you can stand over here please!” You ask politely, looking the older driver and directing him to his partner.

“Sure cupcake” he grins winking at you making you blush.

“Okay, Lewis Nico you guys can go next to Seb if that’s okay!” You say, you weren’t one to raise your voice so you individually went up to the drivers asking them where you needed them for the event.

Normally you organised the fan side of things when it came to events, so you didn’t have too many interactions with the drivers.

Up until now.

Currently you were organising for them to all line up for the start of season promo shot of them on a track all together in their teams.

You group had decided how you wanted to shoot it and it was down to you to co-ordinate the drivers on where they would be standing.

“Has anyone seen Kimi?” You ask looking around seeing that one driver was currently missing. Everyone proceeded to look around for the Finnish driver who seemed to not be present.

“Your gonna have to go look for him” one of your Co-workers advises, making you grunt. You didn’t want to be on the run around looking for this mystery driver.

Eventually you did leave the other drivers in the hands on your capable team, who started to do other things with them that didn’t necessarily require Kimi or you could do with him later on and individually.

You walk through the paddock, looking like you are on a mission, which you kind of are. You can’t take all day to do this, that would be ridiculous. You ask anyone you saw if they had seen Kimi lately. Most people shook there heads, others said they saw him in hospitality but that was a good few hours ago.

You eventually made your way back to the group, where you’d been rushing around looking high and low and it was extremely warm. Your hair had come partially loose from its low bun and now looked messy with some flyaways in your face and sticking on your forehead. Your face had a redness too it and a natural sheen of sweat.

“I couldn’t find him” you say loud enough that all the drivers could here, a chuckle from your left made you look over seeing Lewis and Nico pointing to the driver next to them.

He had a sort of deer caught in headlights look about him right now.

If he was being honest, he was in complete awe of your state right now. As flustered and worn down as you were, right now you looked radiant and there was something about the way you spoke that raw softness in your voice made his world temporarily stop.

It was like his brain stopped working, or was working overtime, he couldn’t actually tell. That’s how much of an impact one look of you had on him. He had no thoughts in his head but all the thoughts when looking at you.

Completely blank, but the redness of you cheeks, completely blank, but the way your hair fell around your face, completely blank but the way your eyes looked a little glassy from the strain of the day, completely blank but the way your shirt hugged around your body like a tailor had made it just for you.

“Oh you are here! Amazing!” You sigh, wiping across your head, thankful you could move on despite the effort being wasted.

“Sorry people came up to me saying I was needed here. I wasn’t aware such a beautiful search party was sent out to find me. I would have stayed tucked away if I’d know it was you coming for me” he says softly, even though he thought he was at a lose for words, every piece of literature he has read came out his mouth at that moment.

Now it was your turn to look like a deer in headlights, you hadn’t expected him to be so … bold?

“Oh erm, we’ll you are here now, so we can move forward” you awkwardly admit, trying to fix some of the hair that was in your face.

“You want me to fix that for you?” He asks and your head bolts up to him in shock. Did he just … offer to re tie your hair.

“Sorry?” You ask in shock, not believing the Kimi Räikkönen just offered to tie back your hair.

“Your holding lots of stuff and I can tell it’s getting in the way, would you like me to retie it for you?” He asks again, and you slowly nod while your team tries to busy the rest of the drivers who are also as gobsmacked as you are.

“Oh erm yes please that would be really helpful!” You smile, your gums showing and it just makes him fall for you even harder than he had before.

Kimi Räikkönen was never one to believe in love at first sight. It was so stupid, how on earth could you fall for someone by only looking at them once, having no depth and detail to that person.

But having seen you, he knew it was real. He knew what it felt like to feel like his head was spinning and his eyes could only be locked onto you. Because he feared if he were to look away, that would be it and you’d be gone.

He reached forward, his hand taking the bobble out of your hair softly making sure not to rip out any hair or get anything caught up. He then fists your hair into a ponytail before sectioning it off into 3 pieces. What surprises you is when he begins braiding it, you assumed he’d do a basic pony tail, something you’d like to think any man could do.

When you feel the light tugging sensation of him getting it tighter so it won’t fall out, you let your head roll back. Because of the high difference when you open your eyes your met with his blue hues staring almost icily back at you!

“Thank you!” You offer, nodding your head a little bit before you get back to work. However organising 20 men to do what you want them to do when they all get easily distracted by anything and everything around them proves to be more difficult.

From an outward eye it would seem Kimi is the only one paying attention to you while everyone else is having their own conversations, checking their phones or just staring off into space, HES watching you with keen eyes. However it’s actually the opposite way round. While Seb and Alonso tease one another they are actually chipping in to help you get them into the right places ever now and then.

And even though Lewis is scrolling through his feed aimlessly, he still has his ear listening out for you.

It’s actually Kimi, who is the one not paying any attention. He’s just watching everything you do almost like a puppy, holding those sweet doe eyes.

“Please just listen to me!” You beg and he snaps out of the daze you’ve got him in.

“Sorry sweetheart where do you want me?” He asks now a little red feeling rude that you’d only been doing your job.

“Erm just here please” you direct him. Finally everyone was where you wanted them and you could get the shot that you wanted too!

Later on, Kimi silently pulled you to one side, he smiled at you as you both stood there in silence. He watched and observed the way you awkwardly shuffled your weight from one foot to another as you watched him and his eyes.

“Dinner, with me tonight” he offers and you remain silent. That didn’t seem like a question, that was an order … or what the word order to harsh. A statement maybe?

“Yes” you smile, before ushering him out the office with a hotness to your cheeks as you leant against the door, forgetting completely about planning the nexts events that were on your table and thinking of the Finnish man who had just bluntly forced you out!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @pear-1206

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen one shot #kimi raikkonen imagine #kimi raikkonen #kimi räikkönen #kimi räikkönen x reader

[goingmerryfics]

Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk

Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.

Shanks

Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between

Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion

Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained

The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe

Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm

While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned

Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain

He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk

But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue

You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you

He doesn’t touch you

It’s painfully silent for a while

Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension

“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”

You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours

He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it

He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe

“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

You do

You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms

Buggy

Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here

Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it

Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through

But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another

Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating

Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though

Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life

Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though

He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal

“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”

He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose

He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin

He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago

As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious

He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again

It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again

“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place

“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”

He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose

He looks like a damn mess

It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you

he pouts up at you and you cave

He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long

Mihawk

If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it

Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you

Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes

He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?

But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is

Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt

Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book

This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away

“Darling, we need to talk right away.”

Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night

The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone

So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge

Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning

But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability

He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does

And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are

If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.

“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”

It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place

You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence

He can work with that

He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small

He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #red haired shanks #one piece shanks #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #captain buggy #op buggy #buggy x reader #shanks x reader #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk one piece #mihawk x reader

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

You know, it would be interesting for me to read the gloomy Disney characters. By the type that the Reader accidentally enters the Disney world. Or is already in this world. For example, a man! The Evil Queen× reader. Just imagine that the mirror says that the most beautiful is the reader and the man!The evil Queen was interested.. Well, or dark! A man!A Disney princess who believes in love and believes that the reader is his true love and that the reader should belong only to him.

Sorry for the bad English

Don't apologize

You're perf, babes

Yandere!Genderbent!Evil King x GN!Reader x Yandere!Genderbent!Snow White

CW: Death, obsessive behavior

"Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" The vain king asked his enchanted mirror as he often did whenever his pride was wounded. King Hadewig was the envy of men and women. Cold and beautiful, his features were cut like an ethereal ice sculpture. Intelligent, talented, and ruthless, most everyone either wanted to bed him or be him. However, his power was not guaranteed for long.

Hadewig was King only by responsibility, and not by actual title. His title was, legally, Prince Consort. He married his, now deceased, wife when he was a young bachelor, and she was the only eligible bachelorette of suitable status as a widow. Being so much older than him, it was an "unfortunate", but not "unsurprising" passing of the crown when the Queen died and left her son in Hadewig's care.

The only reason the child wasn't immediately crowned king was because of Hadewig's charm and influence, convincing the court that the young Prince Snow was too irresponsible to rule the country. But it was difficult to continue that lie going, even with Hadewig purposely keeping Snow ignorant of his future kingly duties by treating him as a servant, for now the boy was twenty years of age, and truly should have not only been coronated years ago, but also wed off to the available princess of the neighboring kingdom, a woman as old as Hadewig.

But his potential loss of power wasn't the reason for his low self esteem that day.

"You are, my king. There is one who approaches, but does not yet share with you what makes you fair."

The king slumped in his seat in an uncouth like manner. "Then why does my hunter not look at me like a man?"

King Hadewig's personal hunter, an immensely talented killer that didn't just slaughter animals for the king. And the only person who simply looked at the king. Nothing Hadewig did could change the professional look on (Reader's) face during their meetings. No matter how charismatic he was with his words, how stylish his clothing was, nor the love potions he attempted to spike (Reader's) drinks with, they were seemingly immune to every one of his attempts. In their most recent meeting, the one that left Hadewig depressed, he had offered his hunter a glass of wine, which they turned down, stating that the last drink they had received from the king did not agree with them.

"I can not tell you that, my lord. I only can report what I see, so unless your hunter speaks their secrets out loud while I spy, I am blind to their feelings for you."

Hadewig groaned, upset and broken hearted.

"Show me my hunter, again."

The face in the mirror melted, dissolving into an image of (Reader) leaving the castle. Their strong frame sent shivers down the icy man's spine. His first and only marriage was one of political importance, with no love or warmth between the husband and wife. But in the presence of his Mx. Hunter, the king was set ablaze. The intense feeling of heat was dowsed when he witnessed the bastard he hated most in the world approach his hunter.

At the steps of the castle, Snow had been timidly watching the triumphant hunter from afar, gathering the courage to approach them. He had never known shame, never feeling any sort of embarrassment about the state of his dress, but in the presence of the person who always smelled faintly of iron, he was reduced to two inches tall.

Stepping lightly like a mouse, the short adult snuck up behind (Reader), still debating whether or not he was actually going to announce his presence.

His decision was made for him, however, being noticed by (Reader) almost immediately.

"Good afternoon, your highness." They said, turning sharply on their heel to face him.

The hunter was the only person to address the prince by his royal status.

"Ah- how did you know it was me?" He asked incredulously. A pink blush warmed his entire head, wrapping around the back of his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

"Because I could hear you." (Reader) offered a kind smile to the shy, younger man. They felt sympathy towards him, with the way his cold step father treated him. With what they had done to him.

Snow was impressed by how cool (Reader) was. And a small part of him wished to impress them as well. He tried to straighten out his worn out rags. "What brings you to the castle today?"

"To gift the king a wolf pelt. And also," (Reader) reached into their pouch, pulling out a pressed flower, "to gift you this."

The prince sucked in his gasp, wide eyed and lips pressed tight.

"I apologize for not finding something better for your highness."

"No!" He panicked, grabbing the flower with both hands. "It's beautiful!"

He hadn't received a gift since the passing of his mother.

"Happy Birthday, your highness." (Reader) bowed, then turned swiftly, leaving the young man hyperventilating and sweating.

Only the king and his mirror heard Snow whisper long after (Reader) left: "I love you."

Three days later, and the king was losing his mind over the interaction. Snow was visibly taller, standing straighter as he worked, singing as he cleaned the castle grounds, and it was bothering him.

Hadewig kicked over his chair in frustration. "Magic mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

"The one you fear is getting stronger, the confidence has warmed his winter, and people shall notice his spring awakening. The prince now glows more brightly than you, whose anger has etched lines of hatred into his ice like face."

King Hadewig released a scream, losing his control before quickly sharpening back up, running his hands through his messed hair.

He left his study, storming over towards a frightened servant.

"Send for my hunter."

Before (Reader), the king was disheveled, worrying (Reader) something awful.

"I can not stand for this disrespect any longer." His gaze read cold and cruel as it pierced the hunter's. "You understand that you are mine, correct?"

(Reader) thought about the flower and felt a wave of anxiety. "Yes, your highness."

"You understand that you belong to me?"

"Yes, your highness."

He sighed ever so slightly, before retrieving a wooden box from his desk. "I have another assignment for you.

Kill my son."

Nausea threatened to erupt from the seasoned murderer. "My lord?"

"Take him deep into the woods, and bring me back his heart." He held out the box. It was a test, as though (Reader) hadn't proved their loyalty to the mad man enough.

The empty box was heavy in (Reader's) hands.

"As you wish, your highness."

Prince Snow spun in the field of flowers as he searched for the most beautiful flowers for the hunter. It was the best day of his life! His father had given him a colorful outfit that fit him and the hunter had asked him out on a date! Well, they didn't call it a date, but what else could it have been?

He wove a crown for (Reader) while imaging their wedding day, becoming King and Royal Consort and having a real crown placed on their head.

(Reader), however, was weighing their options, not truly paying attention to the prince, and trying to ignore his childlike excitement.

What would the king do, if he was made a fool?

"Oh, hunter!" Snow ran over, holding out the delicate crown. "I made this for you! May I?"

And that was all it took, for (Reader) to spare his life.

They bent down, feeling the weight of the crown on their scalp. It smelled nice. Before Snow could retreat, (Reader) wrapped their arms around his thin waist. They had killed so many people before, but this was only the second time they felt unbearable guilt.

The first was after they took the life of the Queen.

"(Reader)?" Snow stuttered out, feeling weak in their strong arms.

"You must run, your highness." (Reader) whispered into his ear.

"What?"

"The king has ordered me to kill you. So please, run. Far away, into the woods." They released the prince, and it was only then that he noticed the heavy bags under their tired eyes.

"Why? I don't understand-"

"Leave. It won't be long before that witch discovers my lie."

Snow fell to his knees, holding onto the edge of (Reader's) shirt for dear life, falling apart in front of them. "Please, no! Come with me! If he would kill me, what would he do to you for sparing me? Please, run away with me!"

(Reader) bent down to release his fingers from their hem, planting a kiss on his forehead as they did so. "I hope when I meet you again you will have found a name more worthy of such a warm and kind person. For as of this moment, Prince Snow is dead."

Excitement threatened to crack the King's cool demeanor as he observed the bloody heart in his hands. (Reader) was distant, but that didn't matter to Hadewig, for now there was no competition for his hunter's affection. They would soon be his, even if he had to use force to make it so.

"Excellent work, my faithful hunter." He offered a practiced smile, unnerving (Reader) who prayed that the pig heart made a convincing decoy. At least until they could escape and hide out in the mountains, far away from the King's eyes.

(Reader) gave a deep bow. Then they left, calmly getting on their horse, and leaving, not taking a single glance behind them as they sped off, emergency bag already packed on their steed.

Back in Hadewig's room, he caressed the box affectionately, thinking about his lovely hunter. The stress had certainly caused a frown line, just as the mirror said, but he was working at reversing the damage.

"Magic Mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" He dreamily asked, slightly nervous that the rage had permanently ruined his perfect face.

"Hiding deep within the woods, tending a wounded heart, the fairest in the land hides. Prince Snow still lives."

The king scoffed. "I have his heart right here, mirror."

"No, within that box lies the heart of a pig."

The box fell from Hadewig's hands. "A pig..?" His face scrunched up painfully. "(Reader) would never betray- they belong to me! ME! Guards! Where is my hunter?!"

"The hunter is flying towards the mountains, away from the woods they released the prince into."

Hadewig collapsed at his desk, screaming in agony while pawing at his chest. "No! It's all his fault! Find me that little bastard- I'll kill him myself!"

The seven dwarven women listened to the young man recall his tale of woe, his eyes full of tears but a smile still on his lips. "So, if you please, could I stay here? Just until my love returns for me."

Happy sighed dramatically, blushing and twirling her beard. "That (Reader) is so brave~"

Grumpy smacked the back of her head. "That double crosser may have saved the prince, but that doesn't mean they won't double double cross him!"

Bashful stomped a foot. "It's true love! They would never!"

"Well, they never confessed their feelings," Doc said while cleaning her glasses, "they could have saved Snow out of the goodness of their heart."

Snow smiled, trying to calm the fragments of his heart. "I have to believe, to hope, that (Reader) loves me as I love them. To risk death for me.. but, they said we would meet again. And I trust them."

It was painful, knowing that his father wanted him dead, but what was worse was hearing that (Reader) had put their life in danger for him. Despite all the pain and punishment Snow had endured, he never held it against his step father, but now..

A dark, bitter seed had been planted.

And throughout the night as the household slept, Prince Snow could feel it grow, threatening to burst forth from his chest. The dwarven women were so kind to him. So inviting, and trusting.

He wondered what else they would do for him.

The dark haired man knew that the apple was poison from the moment it was placed in his hands. What kind of elderly man would be this far out away from any sort of town, especially if they were traveling to sell produce? He didn't know who the old man was, but knew that he must have been in cahoots with the king.

"Oh, I don't have any money." Snow said quite sadly, placing his head in his hand.

"For such a lovely young man? Free of charge."

"Are you sure?"

The old man was certainly no real beggar. Nothing made sense. It was cruel, what Snow thought to do, especially if he was wrong, but in case he was right.. Snow whispered to a bird before smiling brightly at the stranger, taking the apple in both hands.

"Of course, please take it!"

Snow bit into the fruit, but did not swallow, hiding the chunk in his hand. After a few seconds of pretending to chew, he collapsed, holding his breath.

The king almost immediately dropped his disguise, snarling. His once similarly raven hair had a stripe of grey.

In a voice barely louder than a huff, he said "It serves you right, you filthy bastard. I would have let you live, if you had simply left my (Reader) alone."

He exhaled. There was no movement from the floor.

"Are you dead yet? Can you still hear me? I hope you can." The king smiled. "I hope you can hear me from beyond the grave as I finally get my happily ever after."

But as he celebrated the dwarves rushed home from work, and a small bird was rallying forces to find the hunter and lead them to Snow's body.

As he monologued to what Hadewig assumed was his son's corpse, the women returned from the mines, righteously horrified and armed with pickaxes.

Hadewig heard a woman shout "Grumpy, don't!" before a pick connected with his lower back, piercing his organs from behind.

The pain was excruciating, sending fire up his body as blood poured out of him. He imagined (Reader's) face, finally smiling for him as they cradled him in their arms, accepting his love. Hadewig wanted that to be the last thing he saw before he died.

Instead, he witnessed Snow, smiling up at him from the floor.

(Reader) arrived just a moment too late, having been closer than they had expected due to how deep into the woods Snow had traveled. They witnessed the sobbing dwarves sitting at the door, too upset to enter their own home where the young prince they tried to rescue lie dead.

The hunter pushed passed them, not wasting a second to grab the young man. He was still warm, but wasn't breathing.

Snow kept his eyes closed as he felt the worst pain he had ever known.

(Reader's) hands slammed into Prince Snow's chest. A rib cracked under their strength, but Snow refused to show it.

Then their lips pressed against his.

His nose was held shut as (Reader) forced air into his throat, trying to get him to wake up. They continued the repetitions a medicine man had taught them while blowing air into his lungs.

"God damnit, Snow, wake up!"

They leaned in, and felt him breath against their mouth. His large brown eyes fluttered open, and his face reddened.

His lips curled into a weak grin. "You came back for me.."

Guilt washed over (Reader), hugging him tightly to their chest. "I'm sorry I left, Prince Snow."

Warm hands ran through (Reader's) hair. "Please.. Call me Theros."

The regret and pain kept (Reader) still, allowing the recently "revived" prince to pull them in for a kiss.

After all that (Reader) put him through, a kiss was the least they could do.

But for the born again man, it was just the beginning.

#sorry it took so long #yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #genderbent #yandere king #yandere prince #love triangle #strong reader #cw blo0d #cw death

[soon-palestine]

Israel, the world’s most innocent country, fell victim to a horrific attack from Iran with zero reported casualties on the same day Israel killed dozens of civilians in Gaza.

Israel had been minding its own business, quietly bombing hospitals, schools, universities, mosques, and an embassy, when the Iranian regime launched their outrageous attack for no apparent reason. Thankfully, the US and UK scrambled jets to defend Israeli airspace because it’s wrong to bomb countries in the Middle East, unless your name is Israel, in which case you can do all the bombing you want.

Every British and American ship in the region is now in grave danger and the risk of terror attacks on our soil has surely increased, but you will be relieved to know our countries have not benefitted in any way from our intervention. Personally, I can’t think of a better way for Israel to spend our tax money.

Our leaders have condemned Iran in the strongest possible terms, which is confusing because I thought we were supposed to remain ambiguous and say we’re investigating the matter when such an attack occurs. Perhaps this is one of those rules that only applies to Israel though.

When informed of the attack, a calm and rational Suella Braverman screamed: “WAR! I WANT WAR!” and when she’d stopped hyperventilating, she added: “This must be the end of western backsliding on Israel,” because she thinks we have not been sufficiently supportive of their genocide. Anyone who is not on the same side of the argument as Suella Braverman must ask serious questions about themselves.

Iran’s unprovoked attack involved giving Israel adequate warning and launching 30-year-old missiles, 99% of which were intercepted, and then saying the matter is closed unless Israel escalates further. The fact Iran would consider retaliating to further escalation from Israel shows just extreme these lunatics are.

Among Iran’s targets was the Israeli air base from which the missiles that struck its embassy were launched, killing 13 on April 1. As of yet, we have no indication as to why Iran carried out the attack, but we’re going to tell you it’s because they want to start World War III. Psychos.

Conspiracy theorists have suggested it’s actually Benjamin Netanyahu who wants escalation, but it’s unclear why the man who faces political oblivion, and possibly jail, would be incentivised to draw his allies into the fight and cause everyone to forget his many war crimes.

Israel, the country that definitely does not want war, has vowed an “unprecedented” response against Iran which will probably kill many more than zero people. If Iran expresses disapproval at Israel’s next mass murder, it’s because they’re trying to destabilise the region. At this point, we’ll have no choice but to help Israel do to Iran what we’ve spent six months helping them do to Gaza - launch precision strikes that destroy 70% of the buildings in the country and leave survivors living in tents.

Worryingly, we’ve just discovered at the most convenient moment that Iran has enough uranium to build 12 nuclear bombs. If it were true that Iran had so much weapon-grade uranium, it would be incredibly stupid to attack them, but we’re going to insist we must attack them because we’re weapon-grade idiots - and we think you are too.

Please just switch your brain off and accept what you’re being told, you simpletons! What matters is rich people can afford nuclear bunkers if this all goes horribly wrong. In the meantime, you can look forward to lots of exciting stories in the media about bringing back conscription and describing how you are likely to die in humanity's final war. Are you looking forward to radiation sickness and nuclear winter? Because they sound like brilliant fun! x

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this outstanding piece of journalism as much as I did, you can support my work here:

#palestine #gaza #free palestine #journalism

[the-modern-typewriter]

wgshdwgd im sorry if youre not accepting snippet reqs </333

but could i req you write abt a villain who *everyone* is genuinely terrified of. and then the hero just politely tells them to shut the fuck up. like, villain could be monologuing or smth and hero would cut them off saying that they would really appreciate it if villain could finish up in the next hour or so because they dont want to miss bargain day at the supermarket.

uwah im sorry if i broke any rules </33 stay safe its a crazy world out there <333

"-Could you please just shut up?"

There was a moment of absolute, horrified silence. One man promptly fainted. Nobody seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

The villain turned, slowly, towards the protagonist.

They were on their knees on the floor, surrounded by armed guards ready to execute the various staff still in their building. Their expression was one of exhausted long-suffering, one hand pinching the bridge of their nose as if to stave off a headache.

"Excuse me?" the villain asked, oh so softly.

"Will you please stop talking?" The protagonist dropped their hand, levelling the villain with a look. "Like, if you're going to slaughter the lot of us, just do it, don't make us listen to the spiel first. It's been forty five minutes."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No. But if I'm going to die, I think I'd like to get it over with. Otherwise, I'd like to just go about my day. I need to buy food before the shop closes and takeaway costs a fortune. I mean, bloody hell. Forty five minutes. Do you really think anyone here is listening?"

The villain stared.

"Like, not to be rude," the protagonist said. "But they're all scared out their minds. They are not processing the finer points of your monologue. It's just so unnecessary."

"I could cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I could cut out their tongues," the villain swept a hand around the room, "and feed them to you. That sorts out dinner, doesn't it?"

"I mean, I'm vegan, and not a cannibal, but I appreciate you're more concerned with being menacing than actually addressing the issue."

The villain stared some more.

The protagonist stared back.

"The data I need is still downloading," the villain said, after a long moment. "If I let you leave, someone will do something stupid like try and call the police."

"Sure, sure. But the monologue."

"You don't enjoy the sound of my voice?"

"I wouldn't take it too personally. It's been a week. Bit overstimulated, to be honest. Anyone's voice right now feels a bit like a cheese grater on my nerve endings."

"A bit like a cheese grater."

"No offense."

The villain blinked at them, slow and somewhat incredulous. "A cheese grater."

The protagonist shrugged.

"I'm assuming you didn't miss who I am in the last forty five minutes," the villain said.

"No."

"And yet."

"It's not that you're not terrifying," the protagonist said. "I just - forty five minutes. Humans aren't set up to be this stressed for forty minutes. My head is killing me. Processing all this - if you don't kill us - is going to be hard enough without having to fit in all the life admin I'm not currently getting done."

"Come here."

"...what?"

The villain crooked a finger to beckon the protagonist forward.

The protagonist swallowed, eyeing the villain warily, but didn't make them ask again. With a glance at the armed henchmen, they shuffled forwards to the spot the villain had gestured at their feet.

"You know," the villain said, "it's been a very long time since anyone has talked back to me."

"Sorry. I'm really not trying to be rude."

"No," the villain mused, head tilting with something alarmingly like curiosity as the protagonist came to a stop. "You're really not, are you? Turn."

"...turn?"

The villain gestured again, to indicate that the protagonist should face away from them.

"...You can't just give me all the orders at once? I get this is more dramatic, but I probably wouldn't be trying your patience as much if-"

The villain seized the nape of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a kitten, making their breath catch.

Everyone watched for the inevitable torment. The punishment. The kill.

The villain's fingers dug into the knots of tension in the protagonist's neck, power sparking up the touch.

The protagonist sagged. "Holy shit," they breathed.

"Better?"

"Um. I mean - yes - but -"

"Good." The villain glanced up to the henchmen. "Shoot everyone else."

"What? Wait - no -"

The sound was deafening.

Then the silence was, once again, absolute.

"You didn't have to do that," the protagonist whispered. "I didn't mean - if I offended you -"

"Oh, you didn't, don't worry. That's why you're still alive. Tell me about yourself."

The villain's grip stayed unrelenting on the back of the protagonist's neck, holding them securely in place.

"T-tell-?"

"We still have ten minutes," the villain said, in a tone of great patience, "before the download completes. Tell me about yourself. I shouldn't be the one doing all the talking, after all. It's very rude of me, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, the protagonist talked, watching the blood pool on the floor. What else was there to do?

The computer finally gave a quiet beep to indicate that the download was complete.

"Good. Very good." The villain gave the protagonist's neck another gentle enough squeeze. "Now. Let's go grocery shopping," the villain said cheerfully. "Up you get. Dinner's on me."

#heroes and villains #antagonist and protagonist #writing #story #writing snippet #villains #villain

[me-loving-woso]

Beach days, new teammates and love confessions

After literally months I am back. This is part 2 of Bruises Apologises and Cookies? It’s 15 k and probably I’ll make also a part 3 cause I am now invested in the story. Let me know if I should go on.

The season ending was a very bittersweet moment for you. From one point of view, you really didn't want to leave your club when they had given you so much.

The fans loved you, your teammates had become family, and the stadium was a second home for you. But you knew that you had to move for your career to flourish and make you reach your full potential.

The last game you played was the final of the Coppa Italia against Juventus. Your captain gave you the armband to lead your team one last time, and you were trying to hold off the emotions welling up. You almost felt like you were betraying the team in a sense. Still, you knew it was only an impression, as everyone was spurring you to go to Barcelona. They only wanted what was best for you. 

You won 1-0 in that game, with your goal making the difference. Your teammates made you lift the cup and shed one or two tears. You gave a small farewell speech, and then, for the last time, you rounded your little stadium, where you'd play all of your matches with the team, and said goodbye to your teammates and the fans.

Your mind went on autopilot after that. You pushed away all of your sad feelings in the locker room and in the car to go back home. At home, there you broke down. It was really over. The team, the club that had given you so much, was not your team anymore. And a new adventure was about to start. 

-

The following day, you fled to Eindhoven with some of your friends from the National Team to see the Champions League final. You had promised Mapi that you would be there and also because you were there to meet the coach of Barcelona to finalize the contract with the club.

As soon as you land in Eindhoven, you text Alexia, telling her you have just landed. Your relationship with her had been highly confusing since she welcomed you into her home after the defeat against your team. Something between the two of you had shifted.

She took care of you and made you feel safe in her arms. It had been a long time since you felt like being with her was just casual, on your part at least. Maybe she was just being polite and not actually caring more than necessary. Yet, you would text or call almost daily to talk about your days or just football. She was the first person you told about your move to Barça and she couldn't have been more supportive. 

As you texted her at the airport, she told you that you wouldn't see each other before the game because she was stuck in media duties. Still, she informed your friend and soon-to-be teammate that you had landed, so at least you would get to see Mapi.

As soon as you left your suitcase in the hotel, you got to the bar where you told her you would meet her.

"Soo, what are you doing in the summer?" You ask her while you are both eating some way too unhealthy burgers.

"Ingrid and I thought about going to Ibiza for a week; why?"

"Would you like to come to Italy for a few days?" You offer her, every year, you booked this tiny house for the whole summer in Praiano, near an abandoned beach. You thought it was a total steal for how much you had paid for it. You usually would go there with friends or family for a few weeks. It was really your favorite place to be.

"I would love to come, but I don't want you to third-wheel us." You chuckle. 

"What makes you say I'm not inviting anyone else?" You smirked suggestively, making her understand what you were insinuating.

"So you finally made it official?" You had asked Alexia to join you for the holidays the last time you saw her when she told you that she had never actually been to Italy if not for a match, you said it was unacceptable, so you offered yourself as a tour guide.

A week or so later, you realize that spending more than a day together would be a bad idea for fear of spilling out your deep, confused, and embarrassing feelings for her. So you decided to invite Mapi along.

"Again. We. Are. Not. Dating." You repeat to her for the millionth time, frankly also trying to convince yourself.

"So you are not going on holiday with her."

"Yes, I am. As friends." You explain, trying to find the right words.

"Only friends?"

"Well, with also some other benefits." Her face turns into a disgusted look. "What?"

"You are talking about my captain, it's weird." Frankly, she will be your skipper too, which meant that you were banging your boss? That was a thought for the future you.

"I really hope you would like to join us if you have nothing better to do." You really hoped she would say yes because you had planned to tell her you were joining Barcelona there.

"I'll talk to Ingrid about it, but you know I can't say no to Italy."

As you return to the hotel, you have a drink with your friends, and then you excuse yourself to go to bed when you hear your phone buzz.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

'You up?'

'Yes, Why are you not asleep? It's late, and tomorrow you have a big game.' You reply.

'Just the nerves are getting to me. Last year with Lyon, we got demolished; I don't want it to happen again. It was difficult to keep the team united after such a loss, and I don't want to disappoint the fans.'

'Can I call you?' She sends another text.

You quickly start a video call, and she immediately picks up.

"Hey, cariño."

"Hey, Ale." You both smile dumbly at each other for a couple of seconds, but then you get interrupted by one of her yawns.

"You need some sleep, piccola, or you will be tired tomorrow. And as for the Lyon thing, you cannot predict the score tomorrow; you just can control how you play and try your best to motivate your team to be the best version of themselves. Lead them to glory, and give it your all. You won't have any regrets if you give everything on the pitch." You try to make her feel better, even though you know she will be stuck in her head all night.

"I'll try my best."

"And the least you could do, after ditching me tonight, is to score a goal for me tomorrow. It's the least." You tease her, making her smile.

"Asking for a goal in a Champions final? You know you are a very hard girl to satisfy, right?" She chuckles, making you feel relieved that you were able to make her feel a little better.

"You would be the expert on that, right?" You smirk suggestively, making her raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, I definitely am." She replies confidently.

"Go to sleep, piccola mia; tomorrow is a big day for you."

"Goodnight, cariño."

"Buonanotte, Ale."

-

The morning after you woke up, you quickly texted Alexia for good luck. 

As soon as you got to the stadium, the tension was palpable, especially when in the first half Barcelona was down 2-0. You were getting extremely nervous and anxious. Your teammates, who were watching the game with you, noticed that. You were biting your nails to the skin. You didn't want them to lose, but if a team could turn around a 2-0, it was going to Barça, or at least you hoped so.

As soon as you saw the players come on the pitch for the second half, they all held an expression you couldn't understand. A mix of determination and hunger, especially Alexia.

The second half started, and not two minutes after, your woman bagged the first goal of the remontada. She ran to her fans, looking at you, making your initial with her hands, making all of your organs flip, fully blushing at the gesture. You really thought that she didn't take seriously what you said the day before. 

As soon as she made that gesture, your now ex-teammates, watching the game with you, noticed what had happened and put the dots together.

"It's her, isn't she?" Linari asks you, wearing a shocked expression.

"What?"

"The girl from Barça that you are seeing. It's Alexia Putellas?" You chuckle, turning around to see the game, making her understand she was right. You weren't denying it anymore.

Not even two minutes later, Alexia scores a header, making the score a draw. She ran up to the side of the field, making your initials again and then celebrating with a little bow.

Barcelona was finally on track, and you could see that the intensity was getting much higher than it was before. Alexia played some of her best football in that second half. The game found an advantage with Rölfo when she scored the match's final goal and game-winner.

You saw her lift the trophy, making your heart grow a thousand times bigger on how much you were proud of her.

Then Mapi came to you, and you hugged her, congratulating her. You mingled in the stadium for a little while and finally left to the parking lot. You wanted to see Alexia but knew she needed to focus on celebrating and her teammates. You could text her later when she had the time to reply.

.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

'Meet me in the hallway at the stadium?'

You quickly excuse yourself from your friends and sneak inside the stadium again. As you were walking down the hallways to find her, you felt two hands sneak up on you, making you turn around.

She quickly picked you up from the air, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so proud of you, Ale!" You say, nearly tearing up.

She puts you down, turns her head to look at her surroundings, and then kisses you quickly, catching you completely off guard. "I have to return to Barcelona now, but I couldn't leave without seeing you." She says excitedly, you had never seen her this happy.

"You did it! You scored two goals. You are champions once again! I'm so fucking proud of you, Ale!" 

"Did you see! I did your initials. Two goals for you, cariño! I probably wouldn't have won the trophy if it wasn't for you." She places her hands on your cheeks, smiling.

"I didn't do anything. It's all on you. I just gave you a little reassurance."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. I have to go now! I have a trophy to bring back to Barcelona. I'll see you in two weeks, cariño." She gives you a quick peck on the lips and then leaves for the dressing room.

The next day, your Instagram was swarmed by pictures of her celebration and a video of the team that was clearly hungover Alexia included, which made you chuckle.

-

That day, you were leaving for Praiano with some of your closest friends from the Roma team. You had invited them to spend the last days in Italy with you before you moved to Barcelona.

The club announced your signing in the middle of the transfer season so as not to overshadow your signing for the Champion's League win; you thought it was totally unnecessary, but LaPorta wanted to give you a 'proper welcome.'

The day of your announcement coincided with the day Mapi would arrive in Italy. You really wanted to be the one telling her that you would be joining her team, so you talked to Ingrid, begging her to not make your friend open her phone for that day. They would stay with you for five days before leaving for Norway. In contrast, Alexia would remain with you for the whole week, which was something that you were looking forward to some alone time with her. Still, you were also nervous about being alone with her in fear of blurting out your surely unrequited feelings for her.

As soon as her flight landed, you went to pick her up, 

She was wearing some Barça shorts and a baggy t-shirt, wearing a messy bun, and walking towards you. As soon as she was close enough, you ran up to her and hugged her, which she soon reciprocated, picking you up from the air.

"Hey, cariño."

"Hi, champion." She put you down, buried her head in the crook of your neck, and placed a small kiss there.

Then you took her suitcase, grabbed her hand and led her outside the airport. As soon as you get into the car, she takes your hand again and never returns it for the rest of the trip.

"How was the flight?" 

"It was good, though nobody speaks Spanish here; they just add the S to the end of every word in Italian. It's so annoying." She pouts cutely.

"Welcome to Italy."

"So, is Mapi already here?"

"No, they are coming tomorrow morning; they had an issue with the plane tickets."

"So we are alone tonight?" She grins suggestively while you quickly nod at her before focusing back on the road. "So, what are the plans for tonight?"

"It depends on how tired you are." She had just had a whole week celebrating with her teammates, and you could understand if she wanted a relaxed night in. You turn around to see her expression, a mix between a smirk and a suggestive glare. "Oh my god, woman! I didn't mean it like that! I'm more than just a body." You remark jokingly as if you weren't thinking about the same thing as her. 

"I know. I love your body." She kisses the back of your hand. "Just as much as I love what it's inside here." She lightly taps your temple, making you slightly blush at her compliment. "SO, what are the plans for tonight?"

"If you are up to it, I wanted to take you out to dinner; since you say that Spanish food is better than Italian, I want to prove you wrong. And if you still have some energy, we can go for a walk later; I can show you around the city."

"I'm good for anything you want to."

-

As soon as you get to the house, Alexia's eyes widen.

"Oh wow, this is beautiful." She opens her mouth in wonder. 

"Wait until you see the beach!"

You stop the car and take her suitcase inside the house while she is toeing behind you. You take her outside to see the small private beach.

"How did you find this place?" She marvels, still looking at the clear water in front of her.

"We used to come here when I was little; I've actually started saving up money to buy this place. The owner loves me and has no kids, so he is okay with me buying it."

 She turns to you, taking you by your sides. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"No problem."

"Now, can you show me the room? I would like to change clothes."

You grab her hand and take her inside the tiny house. "I'm sorry it's a little messy." You still had some bottles of wine opened and some glasses on the table from the previous night. "My friends left this morning, and I still didn't have time to clean up."

"If that is messy for you, you don't want to come to my house during the holiday season." She lightly jokes.

You take her to one of the spare rooms, where she places her suitcase on top of the bed, and then she quickly looks at her surroundings, confused.

"Is this your room? Because I don't see your stuff in here."

"No, my room is over there." You point at the end of the hallway. 

"Just take me to your room; we are going to sleep on the same bed anyway." She says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, I thought that you might want your own space."

"You have to stop being so accommodating. If I wanted my space, I would've stayed at home. I came here because I wanted to be with you. So stop being so cautious around me and take me to your room." She says, using her commanding voice that she only used on certain occasions, which she knew had an effect on you. 

You take her to your room, which is the best room in the house. It was the biggest and had a great sea view outside the window.

You leave to make her change while you go in the living room.

-

She wore shorts, her bikini, and an open button-down shirt when she returned. You chuckled when you looked at her; she was really feeling the beach mood. 

"Let's go outside!" She says excitedly.

"Wait, I still have to finish cleaning up, and then I have to go upstairs and finish some other stuff. I'll be there in a couple of minutes." You tell her you really wanted everything to be perfect for this week. 

"Nope." 

"What, sorry?"

"You are on holiday, so stop trying to make everything perfect; it's already perfect as it is, and come outside with me." She insists, making you giggle at her stubbornness.

"But-"

"No buts. You deserve to relax just as much as I do." She quickly approaches you, grabs you by the waist, and drags you outside.

"Alexia!" 

She puts you down on your small patio when you get outside. She places your hands on your cheeks. "Now, let me do something I've wanted to do for two weeks. Can I kiss you?" 

"You really don't have to ask anymore." You reply, standing up on your tippy toes to kiss her. It was slow and soft, and you could feel her smile through the kiss. She picks you up, and you can feel her begin moving. You needed to find out where she was going and why. But you were too caught up in her to understand what was happening. Then you hear some splashes and the sound of the waves. You break the kiss and look around: she brought you into the water, and she was wearing a mischievous smirk. 

"Alexia, don't you dare!" You warn her. She was trying to throw you into the water. She responds to you by chuckling and releasing her grip from your body, making you wrap your legs even tighter to not fall down to the water. "Alexia, come on, I still have clothes on." You tried to convince her, but she looked like she didn't care. So she began tickling you on your sides, which she knew was your ticklish spot. You tried to squirm from her touch, but you lost balance and fell in the water while the woman beside you, still standing, started laughing. 

“Tua madre in carriola!” You exclaim, slightly irritated that you had all your clothes drenched in water, but you couldn't fully care when there she was. You have never seen her as carefree and happy as now. You felt blessed that she was here, right now, with you, being like this, trying to make you finally relax and enjoy some vacation when it was nearly impossible, as you'd always stress about something. 

"You know that I didn't understand anything you said, right? Only something about my mom." She chuckles. You quickly go underwater and grab her legs, making her fall into the water.

"Tu puta madre!"

"See! At least I didn't call your mom a bitch." You tease her while she fixes her wet hair. "And this is payback!" You finish, crossing your arms and wearing a proud smirk. You see her expression change from irritation to determination while swimming towards you. She picked you up and threw you with her in the water, and that is how you spent your afternoon. Stolen kisses, laughs, and a whole lot of competitiveness. Honestly, you couldn't ask for more. 

After the both of you had calmed down after laughing and playfully fighting in the water, you swam to her. You made her wrap her legs around your waist while she was stabling herself, putting your hands on your shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, you always pick me up from the ground; we can switch roles occasionally." You tell her, lightly rubbing her thighs; you really missed having her close to you.

She replies by giving you a soft kiss, then begins to look at you, smiling.

"What?" You ask her, feeling yourself combust at the intense eye contact.

"I just really missed your face, cariño." She says, peppering feathery kisses all over your face. 

How dare she say stuff like that when you try your best to keep inside your confusing and strong feelings for her. 

"I missed you too, piccola." You blurt out, kissing her jaw, holding her a little tighter. You really didn't want to let her go. You had created this little bubble in which the both of you were enjoying each other's presence, not caring about what you were to each other, but just having fun with no constraints and being in each other's company. 

"I think we should get inside." And the bubble popped.

You get inside the house with your clothes soaked and take turns to shower. It had been more than six months since the last time you were able to touch her, and you felt your body yearn for her. Yes, you had kissed, but nothing more than that.

- 

You took her out to dinner in a small place near the city.

You really needed help to differentiate this dinner from a date. It had everything that a date would entail. Good food, subtle and not-so-subtle flirting, and great banter. The subtle touches under the table or the shared knowing glance made your heart skip a beat. This dinner felt like a date, but you knew it wasn't. And that made you feel a sort of uncomfortableness that wasn't easy to set aside to fully enjoy your night with her.

As soon as you finished eating, you took her for a walk around the city, and you would tell her anecdotes of what you did in those places you were walking by when you were a child. 

You arrive at a park, and you both sit down on the swings. 

"You know, this is actually where I had my first kiss." She turns to look at you, wearing a curious grin.

"Here? In this park?" 

"Yeah. It was here. Actually, on this swing."

"Now you have to explain." She asks you curiously.

"Well, I was thirteen. We were a group of five kids, and we would come here every afternoon to have fun and play with the ball. I remember this boy always looking at me, and one day, we were alone at the park. I was on the swing; he made me close my eyes, gave me a flower, and kissed me."

"Oh my god, it's so cute!"

"No, it wasn't. It was very weird. But I think it was just me who didn't want to be handed a rose by a boy, much rather a girl. But that would be a problem for a future 14-year-old me. In hindsight, I think that it should have been the first clue of me liking girls." You chuckle, reminiscing about that young boy who made you realize that kissing boys was disgusting.

"Turn around." You see her standing up with a determined grin.

"What?"

"Just indulge me. Turn around." You turn around, your body closing your eyes expectantly.

"Okay, you can look now." You turn to face her and see a daisy in her hand.

"Well, this might not be a rose. But it is a flower." She hands you the flower shyly, making you chuckle lightly at her cuteness. 

"And you are a girl and not a boy." You state.

"So, can I kiss you? I'll ask because I don't think that poor boy asked you."

"Nah, he didn't. But as I told you before, you no longer have to ask."

"Kissing you shouldn't be something you can take for granted." She replies, leaning into you and weighing the swing's chains.

After more than thirteen years, you recreate your first kiss. And this time, it feels right. It was as if you were meant to recreate it with someone who mattered, who would make you feel excited and nervous about how the little boy felt when he was kissing you. And you felt the same way with her, and every time you kissed her, 

As soon as she breaks off the quick kiss, you remark, "I think you are a better kisser than that poor boy."

"I mean, I'd hope. I'm 29. He was your age."

"Don't get too cocky now. You were slightly better." You tease her. Making her lean into you and give you a searing kiss so that you'd know for sure that if you weren't sat on that swing, probably your knees would give out. It had an intensity that seemed out of place for being in a children's park. But neither of you seemed to care. It was dawn, the playground was abandoned, and you missed kissing her.

And most certainly she was just getting competitive because you told her she was slightly better at kissing than a thirteen-year-old. She wanted to wipe away any doubt about her kissing skills.

She breaks the kiss by lightly biting your lower lip, making you feel all hazy.

"Just slightly better?" She smirks proudly.

You didn't hear a word she said, as you were too busy falling down from the high she had just given you to actually understand words spoken to you in a different language by one of the hottest women you have ever seen. "What did you say?"

"I'll take that as a no." She lightly chuckles, taking your hand and walking to the park exit.

"Let's go home." She whispers, placing a small kiss on your temple.

The walk back to your holiday home was on autopilot. She took the lead on the conversation, asking you questions about the week's plans with your other two friends. As soon as you get home, you go to your small kitchen to get a glass of water while she toes behind you. As soon as you finish drinking, she comes closer to you, putting her hands on your waist and making you retreat until you hit the kitchen counter.

"Thank you for tonight. I really had fun." She smiles earnestly.

"I'm glad that you like it here."

"Oh, I love it here. Even though I think that the people in this place have an average age of 72." She jokes

"Nah, 75. In fact, there is only one kid in the whole town. And the father is actually the boy of the kiss in the park."

"Well, at least he moved on."

"Yeah, it was very tough for him, but eventually, after a very long time, he found love again. But again, how could you ever move on from someone like me." You joke. 

"I don't know. Well, nearly after a year, I'm still here, so something right you must be doing." She teases you.

"Or maybe you just can't find better." You raise an eyebrow suggestively.

"I don't think there is better to find, honestly." Her gaze softens as she says those words, making you blush, hiding your face by placing your forehead on her chest, hiding from her. She pulls her hands away from your waist and puts them on your cheeks to try to move your head from her to see your face. "What?" She asks. 

"You have to stop saying things like that."

"Why? I mean it." She reassures you.

"I- You know why." You try to make her understand, not fully saying out loud feelings; try to make her understand them instead without fully exposing yourself.

"I'd rather you say it."

You take a deep breath. "Alexia, do you want to go on-" Your phone rings and you look from your watch to who is calling you "I have to take this."

You squirm away from her touch and leave to go outside. 

"Pronto, Emma. Tutto bene?" It was your best friend whom you hadn't seen in a year and a half. She never called without asking you beforehand, so you thought it was pretty important.

"Si, tutto bene. Ti devo dire una cosa.” She replies excitedly, making you release a sigh of relief that nothing bad had happened.

Ten minutes later, you come back to Alexia wearing one of your biggest smiles.

"Is everything okay?" She asks, still waiting for you in the same spot as you left her.

"More than okay!" You reply excitedly, walking quickly to her. "My best friend is getting married, and I'll be the maid of honor." You place your hands on her shoulders, then slowly move them to her neck, lightly playing with her hair. "Now, where were we?" You knew exactly how you left her; you were about to blurt out your feelings for her, but you decided to ignore the problem and not dwell on it too much. Instead, you kissed her. The kissing led to something else, and for the first time in more than six months, time froze, and you were back again in her arms.

-

The next morning, you wake up to the alarm with hair on your face and an arm holding you down. You had a headache and clearly were sleep-deprived. You open your phone and look at the time. It's 10 AM. 

"Fuck!" You sit up, making the woman on your side slowly wake up. "Alexia, wake up. We are late; we should've been in the car by now."

You say, rushing out of your bed to quickly change. You had promised Mapi that you would drive her to your house from the airport because you thought it would be a waste of money to book a taxi when you had a perfectly functioning car that could drive you anywhere.

In five minutes, you were able to dress, brush your teeth, and get in the car. Thankfully, you remembered to shower the night before, so you didn't have to do it in the morning; you felt bad for Alexia, as you could see that she wasn't used to this level of rushedness, that you were more than used to as you always tended to sleep in, and eventually have to rush to get in time to train or to games.

You closed the door to the house while Alexia was still halfway done putting her shirt on. As soon as the both of you got into the car and slammed the door, you looked at each other and started laughing.

"Okay, those were the quickest five minutes of my life." She says while catching her breath.

"We totally overslept, and we are totally going to be late." You chuckle, starting the engine of your car.

"We can always say that we found traffic." She offers.

You definitely and not-so-subtly speed to the airport and then quickly call your friend to tell her that you are finally at the airport.

"I'm really sorry. We found traffic on the way here." You tell Mapi while you go to hug her and Ingrid. As your friend goes to hug Alexia, you turn to Ingrid and whisper, "Did she already open her Instagram?" You were trying to hold off her discovering that you were a Barça player; you really wanted to tell her, and that day would be the day that Barcelona would announce your signing.

"No, she didn't, but I can't hold off her phone for long." She replies, breaking off the hug and going to Mapi's side and beginning to catch up on her life and yours. 

"Oh my God, I forgot to tell you! Emma is getting married!"

"No way! She's finally settled down?!" Everyone who knew the both of you always thought that you would be the first one to marry, as Emma has always been the hot mess between the two of you, afraid of commitment. "Is she marrying the same guy from college?" She asks you.

"Yep." You turn around to look at Alexia and Ingrid, and then you explain. "When I was in college when I met Kate, my ex, Emma met this guy who studied economics and finance at our same university. They got together way before Kate and I. He's so dumb. I love him so much. They are perfect for each other."

You turn again to face your tattooed friend, "Wait, is that a hickey?" Her face is adorned with a knowing smirk while pointing at your neck, making you subconsciously hide it with your hand.

"No, it's not! It's a bruise." You try to explain, mentally trying to remember to scold Alexia as soon as you got her alone.

"It's so not!" She chuckles, surprised, making you turn around to glance angrily at Alexia, who replies with an innocent smile. "Is that the reason why you were late?"

"No! We found traffic on the way here, as I told you before."

"Yes!" Alexia casually backs you up, making your other two friends understand it was a lie.

As soon as you get into the car, Mapi is about to take out her phone to put music on when you stop her, saying that only the passenger in the front, Alexia, could put the music on, which was a lie, but you really didn't want her to see her phone. 

-

As soon as you got home, the couple went to their room to unpack the suitcase while you and Alexia put on your bathing suit and went outside to the beach to sunbathe. You were reading some book, trying to focus on the words of the book rather than the woman who was lying half-naked on your right. Which was getting increasingly more difficult whenever she would move or place soft caresses on your back, trying to get your attention.

"Hey." You turn to look at her.

"Hey, cariño. I'm sorry for the hickey. I got a little carried away yesterday night." She apologizes shyly, making you forgive her in the blink of an eye.

"Don't worry about it." You come closer to her, placing a hand on her chest, and give her a small kiss. You brush your noses together and tell each other sweet nothings, creating a small bubble that neither of you wants to pop. "I know that I'm a person who doesn't express much of her feelings vocally, but I just wanted to say that I'm really glad that you are here with me."

"Honestly, there is no place I'd rather be, cariño. By your side is where I am the happiest."

You move your lips closer to her, about to kiss her, when you hear the door of the house open and see your friends coming outside. You make your forehead fall on her shoulder while you feel her sigh displeased. You slowly move away from her and sit up.

"I'm still not used to seeing this." Your friend says while pointing at the both of you, making her girlfriend roll her eyes at her.

You spend the morning in your small private beach playing card games and catching up with each other. 

-

In the afternoon, it was when the club would announce your signing, so you decided to tell her at that moment. You had brought your Barcelona shirt to be able to announce it away from Barcelona. You told the club that you wouldn't be able to fly to Barcelona for your signing because you had already booked your holidays, so you did all the photoshoots and signing beforehand.

The first hours of the afternoon had always been the hottest, so you all decided to come inside and plan together your four days ahead. 

You go to your room and retrieve the Barça shirt. Then you leave to go to your living room. "Oh, and by the way, I decided on my future club." You say casually, sitting down on the couch next to Alexia, facing Mapi.

"You are renewing with Roma, right?" She asks curiously. "I heard some rumors saying that they offered you a big contract."

"Yeah, they did offer me a huge contract. But I decided to leave; check your phone." You look at the time on your watch. "I think they just made the announcement." You tell her excitedly. 

She quickly checks her phone, then turns to look at you smiling. "You'll be a Barça player?" You slowly nod, taking out the shirt with your name on it and showing it to her.

"I wanted to be the one who told you; that's why Ingrid never let you use your phone today." You say while standing up to hug her.

"I'm so happy! We can finally win the Champions League together! Like we always dreamed about!" She says excitedly, looking at the shirt. "Have you already decided on the number? I know that yours has always been the 16."

"I don't care, honestly. I'm just glad to be a Barcelona player. Plus, Rölfo already has the 16. I don't want her to change numbers for me."

"It's already settled, cariñ- Y/n." Alexia interjects, making you turn to look at her. "I know how much the number means to you, and Frido already wanted to change the number to 18, so I asked her if she wanted to make the swap. If you want it, you'll have the 16."

"Ale, there was no need to do that!" You felt your heart explode with affection at the thought that she would do this for you without even asking her or talking about it.

"I know. But I wanted to." You lock eyes, and for a moment, it is as if you are the only one in the room. "Now, do you want me to take a picture of you for the announcement?"

You posted on your Instagram a picture of you and your friend holding your Barça announcement shirt, with the caption: 'Reunited with this one.'

The rest of the week passed in a blur, from boat trips to visiting nearby cities and loads of food; you finally felt at peace and ready for your new adventure in Barcelona.

-

You would stay one last week in Italy with your family to finish packing up, and then you would leave for Barcelona. You found a beautiful apartment near the training grounds, and it had everything you dreamed of. Huge kitchen, a small garden, and a great view of the city.

Everything felt perfect. Alexia was going to pick you up from the airport, you thought it was unnecessary and a waste if her time, but then you gave in, wanting to see more of the woman who had been on your mind ever since that week in Italy, maybe even from before.

As soon as you landed, you got the terrible news from your landlord that a pipe from your apartment had just exploded, which meant that for more than a week, you would be homeless.

As you walk sadly to the exit of the airport, you find Alexia smiling at you as soon as she sees you, but then, as soon as she sees your expression, her smile fades into an expression of worry. You go to hug her, circling your arms on her waist. "Are you okay, cariño?" She asks worriedly.

You bury your head in her shirt, feeling the warmth and comfort she is exuding and taking it all in.

"A pipe from my new apartment just exploded. I am homeless for a week, and I need to find a hotel not too far from the training grounds."

"We'll find a solution together. Now let's go to the car and go home." She takes one of your suitcases, puts her arm on your shoulder, and pulls you close to her, dragging you to her Cupra.

As you enter the car, you melt into the car seat, taking Alexia's hand and giving it a couple of kisses. She turned on the engine of the car and proceeded to leave the infinite parking area of the Barcelona airport. 

"If it's not a problem, you can always stay with me." She offered when you asked her if she knew any hotels near the training grounds. "Because I really don't think you'd want a week of Mapi and Ingrid together." She jokes, clearly making a point, because as much as you love both girls, they are disgustingly in love, and being around them made you feel miserable with your current situation with Alexia.

"Ale, I don't want to intrude. You need your space, and until I'm settled in, I'll take up a lot of it. And I don't want you to feel like you have to because you stayed in my home during the holidays," You say.

"I'm not offering because I feel some sort of obligation. I'm offering because I care about you, and I'd hate for you to be stuck in a hotel when you can simply stay at my place."

"Are you sure?" 

She chuckles at your stubbornness, "Yes, I'm sure, cariño. But I do have one condition that I cannot overrule." She becomes immediately serious, making you unconsciously sit up. "You have to bake me those darn cookies." Her condition makes you chuckle. "I want to bring them to my mamá."

"I'll bake you all the cookies you want, piccola mia." 

.

You get to her home, and as soon as she opens the door, you are met with a ball of fur asking for your attention, which you gladly give to her.

That evening, you baked your cookies together, fully knowing that the next day would be your first day of training, so it acted more as a stress relief rather than something you were doing for someone else. Which wasn't a problem for you, as it had always been your love language, acts of service, and cooking for other people. But strangely enough, you weren't feeling at all that anxious, and most certainly, even if you wouldn't admit it to yourself, it was Alexia's merit.

Her presence seemed to ground you and anchor you to the real world, not making you overthink or go in a spiral of intrusive and not good thoughts.

You loved how, even though she didn't know how to bake, she would try her best to do whatever you wanted her to do, making you grin at her concentrated looks whenever she didn't understand something. 

-

As you went to bed that night, you were cuddling up in Alexia's bed.

"So, are you excited about tomorrow?" She asks you.

"I am a little nervous, but yes, I'm very excited. I'm finally playing for my dream club, and honestly, I couldn't be asking for more. But I do have a question, though: Do you know how many people know about us on the team?"

"Mapi has been a good friend, but for now, only she and Ingrid know. But if you are asking me if I'll treat you differently than what I've been doing now, the answer is no. Of course, I'll not be kissing you because we are at work, but I'll never avoid you."

"You'll have plenty of time to kiss me on other occasions then." You give her a small peck on the lips and go back to your previous position, falling asleep in her arms, looking forward to the next day.

-

The next day, you have breakfast together and then leave for the training grounds. As soon as you get there, Alexia goes in for training, whereas you go and meet all the training staff and Jonatan Giraldez. You were nervous, as you always hated to meet new coaches.

"Hey, Mister."

"Hey, Y/n. I'm so glad to finally have you on my team. It has been two years now that you have been my number 6 choice. I hope we can work well together." He says, shaking your hand, making you blush lightly at the compliment. 

"I will do my best to be the best player I can be." You say.

"I'm sure you will. Now, before going to train and meet your future teammates, even though I know you already know some of them, you unfortunately have some media to attend to."

He accompanies you to a room full of interviewers from Barça TV and some other places, and the interviews begin.

"Hello, Y/n Y/ln. May I ask you some questions?" He asks politely, and you slightly nod.

"Welcome to Barcelona; what made you decide to leave your former club to join Barcelona?"

"Barça has always been my dream club, ever since I was a child. I remember that my uncle wanted me to become an Inter fan, whereas my other one wanted me to become a Milan fan, but as soon as I saw Barcelona play, I was completely taken by their style of play, and it was this club and Messi, that made me fall in love with the sport, so I will always be forever grateful to this club, for giving me this opportunity."

"Y/n, you have the impossible task of replacing one of the best CDMs in the world, Keira Walsh, who had just returned to her childhood club, Man City, with Lucy Bronze; how do you think you will fit that role?"

"Woah, huge question." You lightly joke, earning chuckles from the interviewer. "I think Walsh is one of the best CDMs in the world right now, if not the best. It's not going to be an easy task to 'replace' a player like her, if we can say that. But I'll give it my all to this team, and even if I won't be the best 6 in the world, I'll definitely be the best version of myself to play for this historic team. It's my dream."

"Who are you most excited to play with?"

"Of course, Mapi. We played together during our Atletico days, and I always thought that we worked very well together. But honestly, all of them, I'm really excited to play in midfield with Aitana Bonmati and Alexia Putellas and one of the most underrated players of all time, Patri Guijarro."

"How do you feel about playing with Alexia Putellas, given the circumstances of your previous encounters?" You furrow your eyebrows at the question.

"You mean, given that the last time we played against each other, she nearly broke my nose?" You say lightheartedly, making the people understand that you weren't holding any grudge against her.

The English interviewer quickly nods. "As I said in previous interviews, I think Alexia is a great player and a great person, both on and off the pitch. She will be my new skipper, and I couldn't ask for anyone better. In our previous encounters, I think we were just unfortunate, and when you play with a person who is physically bigger and stronger than you, injuries may happen. But I don't hold any type of grudge against her; in fact, we actually joked about the fact that if she weren't a football player, she could definitely be a kickboxer."

"And that is all for today; thank you, Y/n."

"Thank you all for being here and Visca el Barça."

-

You quickly exit the room and speed walk to the changing rooms to get ready for your first training with the team. As soon as you put on the shirt, you immediately touch the badge of your new team and automatically smile. You had finally made it, and you couldn't be happier.

You put on your cleats and go outside to talk to your coach. All the other girls were making rondos or juggling with the ball, making you feel a little bit like a fish out of the sea. For a slight moment, you were slightly regretting coming to Barcelona but you knew that it was just your mind playing tricks on you and that you deserved to be there just as much as the girls who were already training.

"So, coach, do you want me to run a few laps or do some drills with the ball?" You tell him, feeling ready to do anything, even running, jumping up and down from your standing position.

"Oh no." He chuckles. "I don't know if you do this in Italy, but here at Barcelona, for every new player, we do the guard of honor." 

"Oh no, we don't have to." You say shyly, not wanting to be at the center of attention.

"Oh yeah, it's tradition." He spurs you on, making you go with him on the pitch to your new teammates.

"Girls!" He screams, making all of them turn around. "As you already know, Y/n will be our new 16, so take care of her and make her feel at home!" He says, making you awkwardly wave at your teammates, embarrassed. Mapi walks excitedly to you and gives you a hug. 

"Is your coach always like this?" You ask her, still embarrassed.

"Yep, get used to it."

"I will never get used to wearing these colors," you say, putting your hand on your badge.

"You deserve it more than anyone." She leads you to your teammates, and one by one, you get introduced to them, even though you already knew most of them, never leaving your side, for which you were eternally grateful to her. You leave Alexia for last, and she gives you a quick hug and a reassuring look, which is what you need to finally ground yourself.

They all line up to give you the guard of honor, which you try to make them not do, but Mapi basically pushes you to run, feeling all the smacks on your back as you are running. The training was great after that. You managed to talk and get to know everyone, and everyone was so nice to you.

The intensity, though, was something that you had never experienced before. The Barça rhythms were definitely higher than the ones from Roma, but you weren't the one who would give up that easily, overworking your body, trying to prove yourself to the coach.

You were on a water break, trying to catch your breath, putting your hands on your knees, straightening your back. You feel a hand at the back of your neck lightly squeezing, asking for your attention. You immediately recognize her touch, even though you didn't see her. You turn around to look at her, and you are met with a worried look.

“Are you okay, cariñ- Y/n?“

"So good." You say breathlessly. "I just have to get used to this much running, that's all."

"Do you want me to talk to the coach?" 

"I don't need any special treatment, Alexia." You squirm away from her and jump on Mapi's back, interrupting her from some conversation she was having with Pina and Patri. You felt bad about leaving Alexia like that, so coldly, but then again, you always hated when people were concerned about your physical health or were just trying to help; it made you vulnerable, and you hated that. You immediately regretted how you talked to Alexia and decided that after practice, you would apologize to her.

When practice ended, you were exhausted but still very happy. Alexia was practicing free kicks as everyone left to change.

"Piccola mia, I'm really sorry about how I replied to you today." You say regretfully, placing your hand on her back, making her turn to you.

"I wasn't trying to give you any special treatment, Y/n." What happened to cariño? "I am your captain; if you feel bad or worn out, it's my responsibility to help you." She replies sadly, playing with the ball on her feet.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I just hate when people are worried about me. It makes me feel vulnerable. And I know you were just worried, so I'm really sorry."

"I know you are. Come here and give me a proper hug." She opens her arms for you, which you gladly take, and circle your arms around her waist, putting your head on her chest. Those types of hugs with her were your favorite hugs.

"Now, are you ready for the initiation?" 

You break off the hug and look at her, puzzled. "What initiation? Mapi never told me anything."

"Well, it's more like a team bonding get-together with karaoke."

"So I have to sing? Will you sing too?"

"I am not singing, but you are a newbie, so you have to." She explains as if she were stating the obvious.

"The hell I am not."

"The hell you are." She chuckles.

"I do love music, but I do not sing. When I am sober, at least."

"You kinda have to; it's a tradition. Everyone has done it. It's about shedding any fear of embarrassment."

"But Ale-"

"Nope, it's settled." You sigh at her words and then leave to go to the dressing room.

“Goodbye capitana.”

“Goodbye cariño.”

-

In the meantime, Mapi and Patri were watching your interaction with Ale from afar.

"I've never seen Alexia this… soft? It feels weird." Patri states to her friend.

"Who? Alexia and Y/n?" Mapi asks dumbly, trying not to give out any details. 

"I never specified Y/n." She raises an eyebrow. "Wait. Do you know something?" The midfielder's face turns into a wide smirk.

"I don't have anything to say to you that I should say." 

"So you have something for me that you shouldn't say?" She asks, flipping the situation.

"Stop using wordy sentences to make me confused."

"You didn't reply to my question. Are they dating? Wait, is she the girl we all thought a couple of months ago fucked her?"

"I don't know anything! If you are really that curious, go and ask her!" Your friend replies defensively, really trying not to spill any secrets.

At that moment, you walked through the door and saw your friend, "You didn't tell me I had to sing?! Oh hey, Patri." You turn around to your new teammates happily waving at her, and then you go back to point your finger angrily at your friend.

"Oh, come on! How bad it could be! You were in a band, after all." She says

"You were in a band?" Patri asks curiously.

"I had a really dark past.." You explain quickly and dramatically. "Plus, you know well I didn't sing!"

"Oh, come on. Don't be too dramatic. I'll get you a couple of drinks, then you'll sing something, and that's that."

.

That evening, you were exhausted from your training, so you decided to have a power nap in Alexia's house, which she gladly joined you in. After a couple of hours, you were ready to go and left for the pub, where you would meet the girls from the team.

As soon as you get there, you leave Alexia to go to Mapi and mingle with some of the Spanish girls in that group, Ona, Aitana, Pina, and Patri. While Alexia went to talk to the older girls and her friends from the national team. Some hours in the night passed, and you were really glad that you were getting along with everybody from the team.

At first, you were very shy with them, but thankfully, Mapi, and in some instances Alexia, helped you a little to open up and make your teammates able to get to know you. Some girls were drinking, but you decided not to, and many of them started off the karaoke, making you sometimes laugh at their stupidity, whereas in others, you would clap at them. 

You knew that your turn was coming when you saw Mapi run to another room and come out with a guitar in her hand, making you roll her eyes at her, completely understanding her intentions. You used to play the guitar when you were younger, and you actually were quite good at it. But you hadn't played in so long, and as the hype woman your best friend was and the fact that she loved embarrassing you, fully knowing you hated being the center of attention, she brought a guitar just for everybody to see and ask you about it.

She handed it to you, making you chuckle at her sarcastically, but she was wearing this proud smirk, which showed that she wasn't doing this just to make you uncomfortable and tease but also to show you off, which you thought was very unnecessary.

You open the guitar case, and you see a beautiful acoustic guitar.

"Where did you get this? Did you steal it?" You joke, admiring the guitar.

"The guy behind the bar recognized us and gave me the guitar."

"Do you play the guitar, Y/n?" Ona asks you curiously, making you turn your head around the table.

"Well, I used to play it; I haven't played in a very long time." You say while you pick it up and run the strings through your hands. You stopped playing the guitar when you left for Chelsea. Usually, music was your happy place, but when you moved out from Spain and broke up with Kate, your love for the instrument dissipated, and you wouldn't bring yourself to do something that you enjoyed so much.

"You should play something for us," Patri adds excitedly. 

"Oh no." You reply shyly, putting away the guitar. "I haven't played in so long, plus I don't think I remember much, and I really don't want to embarrass myself." You chuckle nervously, hoping that they will let it go. In the meantime, the guitar thing caught some attention, so now, not only was your table waiting for you to play something, but everyone in your group and some other clients in the pub were waiting for you to play something.

"Oh nonsense, you know that you have to perform; if you don't play the guitar, you'll have to sing. So you decide…" Mapi spurs you on. You take a deep breath and move your chair to the little stage where the people would normally sing karaoke. You quickly tune the guitar, and then you finally feel all the eyes on you.

"Okay, if I get some notes wrong, please don't laugh at me." You look at Alexia one last time, who is somehow sitting with Mapi now, and she gives you a reassuring smile.

So you begin playing one of your favorite songs on the guitar; every time you play it, it reminds you of when life was fun and simple. Whenever you played it, you would get lost in the music and daydream of what those sounds elicit. (If you want to hear it, it's 'Mutter' from Rob Scallon, the live version)

As soon as you start playing, your tattooed friends turn to Alexia.

"Good luck, my friend." She pats her back ironically.

"What, why?" Alexia whispers, still trying to give you her full undivided attention.

"If she still plays like she played years ago, she has this way of conveying many emotions. Either they are sad or happy; whenever she plays something, she amplifies it by a thousand. The song that she is about to play is going to hit you like a ton of bricks, believe me."

The song begins slowly, but then it gets faster and fuller. It made you regret to decide this piece after not playing in so long, but you loved it, and honestly, you really wanted to show off a little to your teammates and, most definitely, to Alexia. Thankfully, this worry of making mistakes was quickly forgotten when you began getting lost in the music. You really missed being able to play and express yourself in this way.

As soon as you finish the song with the last chord, you don't dare to look at your teammates; only when you hear the claps do you lightly blush and turn your gaze around the room, searching for those beautiful eyes that have the capacity to render you hopeless, but you couldn't see her, nor your friend for that matter.

-

Your performance was nearly finished, and Alexia never took her eyes off you; she thought that what Mapi said was right; your performance hit her like a ton of bricks, but more than anything, it brought out a huge realization that Alexia could quite withstand, so she left, to go to the bathroom, trying to get some space. Mapi quickly followed her friend, and as soon as they were inside the small room, the defender turned to pacing Alexia.

"Woahh, hey, calm down. What happened?" She asks the midfielder, placing her hands on her shoulders, trying to stop her from walking around the room.

She takes a deep breath, "Mapi, I have a problem. A huge one."

"Okay, tell me what it is; I know that we can find a solution to it." Her shorter friend reassures her, clearly shocked to see her captain in this state.

"I don't think we can. I just realized that I am in love with her." She says, putting her hands on her face.

"Who?" 

"Who? Mapi really? Lady Gaga. No Y/n, you idiot."

"Sorry, I just wanted to check. But why is it such a problem?"

"Because we decided not to have anything serious, and I really don't want to get rejected when I was the one that continuously pointed out that we weren't dating whenever someone asked."

"I think she feels the same. No. I know that she feels the same. Gosh, I spent five days with you two alone in a house; I can understand when two of my best friends are in love with each other. Eyes don't lie. And don't you dare tell that you haven't been already acting like a couple for at least 6 months now!"

"Do you really think that?"

"I know that. Just tell her how you feel. You won't lo-"

You open the door to the bathroom, searching for Alexia. She had been missing for a couple of minutes now, so you were a little worried that she might have been sick.

"Oh, here you are! I thought you left or you were sick!" You say happily when you finally find Alexia and Mapi, but then you notice something wrong with her, as if she was shaken up. "Wait, are you okay?" You asked, worried, coming closer to her.

"I'm okay, cariño." She reassures you, and then her expression changes into something happier and more proud. "I didn't know you were so good at playing the guitar!" 

"I was better a long time ago. I haven't played in years, but this woman here." You point at Mapi quickly, "Can't mind her own business."

"Thankfully, she didn't; I know for sure you wouldn't have told me that you are good at playing an instrument."

"I would have told you!" You cross your arms, pouting.

"No, you wouldn't." She shakes her head, smiling, while Mapi nods, backing her up. "You'd hate for anybody to know that you are good at something, just in fear of being at the center of the attention." She explains, making you blink twice. It felt as if you were an open book for her to read and understand you perfectly.

"Get out of my head." You remark shyly, earning from her a chuckle. "So you liked the song?" You ask shyly and insecurely.

She gently places her hands on your cheeks, gently caressing them to give you some reassurance. "I loved it; you are a wonderful guitar player, cariño."

"Thank you." You lightly blush. For a moment, you forget that Mapi is in the same room as the two of you because you place your finger on your lips to silently ask her to kiss you. Which she gladly does, feeling her smile against your lips

"I'm still here, you know!" Mapi interrupts you from your little moment, irritated. "Bleah, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing this." You raise your middle finger at her, still kissing Alexia, fully starting to make out with her. You hear the door shut, making you temporarily pull away from her to look behind you, then resuming back to kissing her.

Five minutes later, you both decide to go back to your teammates, but as the night progresses, you feel yourself getting more and more tired, making all of your clinginess appear. You would orbit around Alexia more, trying to find some physical comfort in her presence, even though you really didn't want to show off your 'relationship' with her.

She noticed this almost immediately, so when you were passing by her, in a swift movement, she wraps her arms around your waist and dragged you to her lap; you stumble a little, trying to balance yourself, placing your arm on her shoulder, 

"Are you tired?" She whispers in your ear as if you were the only two people in the room.

"Yes, I am a little. How did you know?"

"I have already seen you tired many times, cariño. You are very touchy when you are tired." You subconsciously move away from her, but she keeps you in place firmly. "Don't move away; I love this side of you."

At first, your new teammates gave the both of you a surprised look, but nobody would dare to say anything besides Mapi, obviously, who sent you from across the room a knowing look, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 

By the end of the night, you had played some more guitar as some of your teammates wanted to sing some more songs. But after a couple more hours, you were exhausted, and when Alexia noticed it, she decided to bring you home to sleep.

-

That morning, when you woke up, everything in your body ached somehow. You really had to get used to Barcelona's rhythms. The bed was empty, so you figured that Alexia was making breakfast, so you painfully make it to Alexia's kitchen wearing one of her big shirts and some shorts you found along the way to the kitchen, which were scattered the night before trying to get to the bedroom. She was making coffee the way you liked it, with the moka instead of using her Nespresso machine 'that she loves so much,' which made you smile at her attentiveness. As soon as you walk into her kitchen, she turns around and walks towards you, giving you a small kiss on the lips.

“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?" She turns to her kitchen again, rummaging through the cabinet on top of her stove.

"I slept really well. What are you doing?" You ask her curiously, leaning on the kitchen countertop and peaking.

"So I found out that my mom had a moka in her kitchen all this time, and I didn't even notice it! So I asked her if I could borrow it since I know you prefer this coffee to the machine." She says while putting the coffee maker on the stove.

"Ale, you shouldn't have done that! I would've gladly drank whichever one you had; you didn't have to go through such trouble for me." You lightly slap her shoulder.

"I didn't go through any trouble. I just wanted to make you feel at home."

Before saying something that you most probably regret, aka replying with But you are my home. You dragged her to your height, kissed her to show all of your gratitude, and whispered a small thank you. When the coffee was ready, you both sat down on her small table and had breakfast.

You were talking about some media stuff you were going to do in the afternoon when you heard a knock on the door. Alexia looks at you confused, not expecting anybody, and she leaves with Nana in tow; as she opens the door, you hear Alexia talking to a woman who has a very similar voice to hers, and then you hear her scream, "No, Alba, no!" 

You see the woman enter the kitchen with Alexia chasing after her as if she didn't want her to meet you.

"Hello, my name is Alba. I'm Alexia's sister." You suddenly widen your eyes, shocked. She offers you her hand to shake, and you stand up.

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You shake her hand and offer her a shy smile, subconsciously searching for Alexia to help you out with this unexpected visit.

"I know who you are; my sister nearly broke your nose. By the way, I want to apologize on her behalf; she never had proper manners." 

"Alba!" Alexia screams, exasperated, while you release a light chuckle.

"Don't worry, she has already apologized. But yes, she has to work on her manners." You wink at Alexia, making her roll your eyes at you.

"Since when are you guys dating?" She asks curiously, earning another frustrated scream from Alexia.

"Oh no. We are not dating; she is just helping me out because a pipe exploded in my apartment." You reassure her while she stares at you confused, then lowers her gaze,

"So you give your clothes to all of your guests?" Alba asks her sister ironically, making you slightly blush.

"Well, I- I," The older sister stutters, making the other draw conclusions by herself. 

"So you are dating."

"It's complicated." She says. "Is there any particular reason why you are here?"

"I forgot my sweater here last week, and I need it back. But I can come at another time."

"No, I'll get it for you." She disappears into the house, leaving you and Alba in an awkward silence.

Thankfully, Alexia comes back thirty seconds later, 

"So you should come to dinner at mom's house sometime. She would love to meet your new 'roommate.'" She teases her older sister, clearly trying to irritate her.

"Well, then, you should invite Alexandre too since you live at his house more than you live at your own house." She replies sarcastically.

"I thought we reached an agreement to never talk about Alexandre ever again after the incident."

"By incident, she means when I caught them fucking in the bathroom during the semi-finals against Chelsea last year." She explains to you, clearly trying to irritate her sister, making you feel like you are getting way too much information on their dynamics in one sitting.

"Let me guess: when she saw you, she made some sarcastic remark, rolled her eyes, and left, right?" You joke, clearly imagining the scene.

"That's exactly it! Always rolling her eyes at people. So annoying! Finally, someone who gets it!"

"Uggghh." Alexia sighs and rolls her eyes at you both.

"See! She just did it again!" 

"I don't like this coalition between the two of you." She lightly pouts.

"It's not a coalition when we are simply just stating the truth!" You lightly tease her, earning an approving nod from Alexia's sister.

"I hate you both!" She exclaims, fully knowing that she was just lying.

"No, you don't." Then you turn to Alba, "It was nice meeting you; I hope we'll see each other soon. I have to get changed for practice." You leave the two sisters while you get ready for training.

After a couple of minutes, Alexia entered your now shared room; you turned to her and placed your hands on her shoulders.

"So you met my sister…"

"She's very nice; I hope I made a good impression." You say insecurely.

"You made a great impression, cariño. I'm just really sorry that you had to meet her in these circumstances. Not to put pressure on you, but my sister can't keep a secret, and she'll definitely tell my mom about you."

"What a way to not put pressure on me." You chuckle nervously.

"Don't worry. I will handle everything, okay?" She gives you a small peck. "Now, are you ready?"

Training that day was even more intense than the day before, with the exception that you were finding so many link-ups with your new teammates. Sometimes, you would forget that you weren't training anymore with your old teammates, that if you passed the ball to the right, you would find Giugliano without looking, or that Linari was right behind you, ready for a pass if you needed it. 

Now, you had different teammates, and your body had to get used to it. 

Being back on the pitch with Mapi had been so exciting. Both of your styles of play evolved so much that how you played at Atletico didn't matter anymore. She loved playing with the ball, so you'd expect more passes from her than before.

What really changed everything for you were the players up front. Playing behind Alexia and Aitana was something that didn't happen every day. The best way for them to express themselves was if you were able to cover defensively for them, which you were doing gladly. Adapting to their style of play was not simple; they played on short and fast passes and opted less for long passes, which were your specialty. 

You were practicing on free kicks, which you thought you were pretty good at. You didn't know why, but you were able to curve the ball perfectly, making the goalkeepers go crazy.

You were in a team with Mapi against Alexia and Graham Hansen, whom you were unceremoniously obsessed with her football skills.

It was your turn to shoot your first free-kick. Paños was on goal, and she was eying the ball. You go for the kick and curve the ball perfectly; the goalkeeper didn't even move because she thought it would be going out. It hit a top bin, and it was in. You throw your hand in the air competitively. "Dajeee!"

"That was a great curved ball! Where did you learn that?" Mapi asked, shocked, as she had never seen you take a free kick like that before.

You shake your shoulders nonchalantly while Caro asks you, "What are your free kick stats?"

"Like all time or just last season?" You ask shyly.

"All the time."

"Well, since I played for Roma, I was usually the one who took free kicks. I guess out of fifty-one direct free kicks, I scored forty-seven if I remember correctly." 

"Wait, really?" Alexia asks you, shocked.

"Well, I love taking free kicks, and I practice a lot on them."

"That's not normal, Y/n; that's a really high conversion rate. I don't understand why I just heard about this!" Your friend tells you.

"I don't know, I just love taking them." You shrug your shoulders. "Plus, when I go for a curved ball, I don't know how, but I do it in a way that is almost impossible to predict."

"You can do a knuckleball too?"

"I'm not that good at that." They move the ball to the place and offer you to kick it. You hit the ball hard, and it goes for the post, then bounces off the other and goes in.

You scrunch your nose, dissatisfied, getting a new ball for another free kick, while your teammates look at you, shocked.

You turn to look at them, "What? 

"Well, now we have to change teams, or it's going to get too easy for you guys!" Alexia says competitively.

"Oh, hell no! Now it's too late; we already decided on the teams!" Mapi says.

"Well, let Y/n decide." Ale crosses her arms, looking at you. "Do you want to swap teams and be with me, who is currently hosting you in my home, or that woman over there?" She points disgusted Mapi.

"Well, I-"You try to talk. 

"Of course, she's going to choose me! I've known her for more than seven years!" They kept on bickering while you and Caro just stared at them, chuckling. 

"You know? I think I'm actually switching teams." You raise an eyebrow, smirking. 

"You made the right decision," Alexia says proudly. She walks to you to get on your side.

"That's arrogant to assume that I would switch teams with you, Alexia." You give her a smirk and walk to Caro's side, leaving Mapi and Alexia next to each other. "Caro and I are going to destroy you!"

And so you did. After another twenty minutes, you finally leave the pitch and get home with Alexia. Once again, you were exhausted, but you were very happy that you were able to get along with your new teammates.

As soon as you get home, you throw yourself to the couch while Nala jumps on top of you for cuddles, which you gladly give her.

Alexia was still pouting because she lost the free-kick competition. "Oh, come on, you can't be still mad!"

"I'm not mad."

"Well, it's not every day that you get to be on the same team as Caroline Graham Hansen. You know how much I am obsessed with her football skills."

"Well, then, why don't you go and ask her if you could crash at her place."

You sit right up and drag her by the shirt to you. "Are you jealous, piccola?"

"No, I am not! Why would I ever be! Caro is in a relationship with Marta. Plus, I am the one that has two Ballon d'Or." She says, trying to convince you.

"I know. You are the best of the best. I had to basically seduce you so that my team could have a chance against you. And you don't have to worry about anyone. There is no one else." The last words unconsciously slip out of your mouth, making you mentally curse at yourself.

"There is no one else for me either. Y/n, I have to tell you something." You nod at her while placing your arms on her shoulders.

"I'm in lo-"The phone rings again. This time, it is Alexia's phone. She goes to look at it. "It's my agent. I really need to take this."

After thirty minutes, she comes back looking stressed out.

"What was the call about, that made you go on the phone for thirty minutes?" You ask curiously.

"Oh no, I was also on the phone with my mom; that's why I was out for so long."

"Is everything okay at home?"

"Everything is great!" You could see that something was up. "But you know when I told you that my mom found out about you-us?"

"No? I thought that she still didn't know."

"Well, now she does. AndsheinvitedusfordinnerandIdidn'tknowwhethertotellyoubecauseIdon'tknowifyouwanttocome."

"What, sorry? I know you have this cute little habit of talking fast when you are nervous, but remember that I am not Spanish."

"Sorry." She takes a deep breath. "My mom invited us for dinner. You can totally say no, but-"

"I would love to come to dinner, Alexia. You didn't have to be that nervous." You give her a small peck on the lips. "Tell her I will bring the dessert."

-

"So, are you ready to finally meet your mother-in-law this afternoon?" Mapi asks you while you leave for morning training together. Finally, your home was fixed from the pipe, and you were able to finally live there. There was still a lot of work to do as you had to basically furnish the apartment, which had been really hard, especially when you were away for most of the day.

Thankfully, Mapi offered to help build a table that you had bought from Ikea in your living room, so with some help, your home was starting to take shape.

"She is not my mother-in-law. I am not currently in a relationship."

"I still don't understand why you can't tell her how you feel."

"Fear of rejection. Or fear that it's going to turn out like my previous relationship. Fear of being just delusional or fear of-"

"Okay, you have made your point! I just feel like you should; maybe you'll find out that she feels the same."

"Yeah, right. As if someone like her could fall for someone like me. She's way out of my league. But anyway, you have met Alexia's sister and mom, how are they? Do you have any tips?"

"They are going to love you. Just be yourself."

"That's not helping, Mapi." You chuckle.

"Ugh, just be polite and show that you genuinely care for Alexia. They are very protective of her. Don't show off, and don't be too shy. But I really don't think you are going to have a problem doing all that."

As soon as you went home, you quickly got ready in your desolate apartment; as soon as you were done, Alexia texted you.

Your Favorite Kickboxer ;)

I'll be here in 5 minutes.

The nerves were kinda getting to you, so you paced around your empty living room until Alexia came knocking at your door. As soon as she saw you, she quickly gave you a hug and pecked your lips. 

"Hey, Cariño, are you ready?"

"So ready! You don't even know!" You fake out.

"Okay, yeah. You have to work on your lying skills. What's up? You don't have to come if you don't want to." She says calmly.

"It's not that Ale. I'm just nervous. I haven't met the mom and sister of a girl I am seeing since my ex. I'm just nervous, that's it."

"They'll love you, believe me. Now, take a deep breath; everything will be fine. We will go to my mom's for lunch, and she will show you some of my baby pictures, trying to embarrass me, and my sister will do the same. Then we'll get back home, cuddle up on the couch, and watch some of your sappy movies, okay?" You slowly nod, feeling a slight motivation through her words. "Now are you ready, cariño?"

You slightly nod, and she leads you to her car, but before that, you stop her and gently kiss her lips. "Thank you. You know I really, really like you?" You tell her.

"I really, really like you too."

-

You get to Alexia's mom's house, and the first thing she does is go up and hug you. You were taken by surprise, but after a second of shock, you quickly reciprocated.

"You must be Y/n, right?"

"Yes, it's me. You have a lovely house."

She takes you into the living room, and then she quickly disappears into the kitchen while Alba appears out of her room to see you.

You lightly chat with her until Alexia's mom screams for the two girls to come and help her; they quickly get into the small kitchen, clearly not knowing what to do.

"Do you need help, Eli?" You ask shyly.

"Oh no, you are the guest." She says, gently smacking your hands away from the pan you were stirring.

"Oh really, it's no biggie. I love cooking, plus I know how much Ale is a disaster in the kitchen. I can help if you like." You offer politely.

"For your information, I am a great cook," Alexia says, slightly offended. Neither her sister nor her own mother backed her up. All knowing how bad she was, making you chuckle. 

"Don't worry, mija, you have some great qualities too." Her mom lightly teases Alexia, making her pout cutely.

As soon as lunch was ready, you helped set up the table, and you sat down.

"So, Y/n, how do you like Barcelona?"

"Oh, I love it here. I just had a minor slip-up with my apartment, but now everything is fixed."

"You are from Italy, right? Because I don't hear any accent." Her mom asks curiously.

"Well, I lived in Spain for a long time before moving clubs. I played for Atletico Madrid with Mapi."

"So you must be happy having her back as your teammate."

"I'm really glad. Plus, Barcelona has always been my dream club."

"Is it difficult being away from home?"

"Well, I left my home in Italy when I was really young; I left to study in the USA."

"Oh wow, what did you study there?" Alba asks you.

"I studied physiotherapy."

"So when you retire from football, you could become a therapist for Barcelona or some other football club," Alexia suggests.

"Well, I could, but I actually work with prosthesis. I studied to help people who have lost their limbs to build them prosthesis."

"I didn't know that!" Ale tells you, shocked but also proud.

-

Lunch proceeded great. Ale's mom and Alba were just like Mapi pictured them. Fiercely loyal and protective of one another. You really hoped that you made a good impression because even though you weren't in an actual relationship with Alexia, meeting her family felt like a huge step, and you'd hate for them to not feel like Ale made the right decision by seeing each other.

What you really liked, though, was the fact that you could see how much Alexia was being herself around her family. She didn't have her walls up, nor did she have to keep up with her duties as the captain. She was just herself, and you were lucky enough to be able to experience it and be part of her inner circle.

As soon as lunch was finished, you stood up to help Ale's mom clean up the table, and then you brought the dessert that you had made for the occasion.

"I didn't have much time to prepare something fancier; my kitchen is still a mess."

"You didn't have to prepare anything!" Ale's mom replies while she cuts open the cake you had stress baked for the occasion.

"My parents always taught me to never walk into a home as a guest empty-handed." You simply reply. "And really, it's nothing. I love baking, so actually, you gave me an excuse to make something."

"You know, Y/n, out of all of the girls that Alexia has brought home, you might be the nicest." You turn your head down, blushing, while Alexia, embarrassed, calls out her mother.

"Well, I think that just the fact that you are here means a lot. You know, Y/n, Alexia had a very bumpy love life." Alba calls her sister out, making Alexia send her a death glare.

You were too curious now, "I wanna hear all the details." You rub your hands, waiting for Alba to fill you in.

"Well, Alexia had many situationships that ended rather quickly." 

"Alba!" Alexia warns her.

"One lasted two weeks I think, with this nice girl. For the record, she was really nice. The poor girl had the misfortune to be a cat person. Nana didn't like her, so she stopped seeing her."

"For the record, I don't regret it! My Nala is my best matchmaker, and I could never be in a relationship with someone who doesn't like my dog, who's currently living with me."

You chuckle lightly at her, "Thankfully, Nala likes me, or else, I wouldn't have lasted even a day." You tease Alexia, remembering how you met the small dog when you first hooked up with her, how Nala would try to get her owner's attention, but she was too busy on you to actually care.

"Well, thankfully, you are also a Barça fan because my sister left a fucking date because they were a Madrid fan."

"Okay, it did not go like that." Ale tries to explain herself, but she is soon cut off by her sister again.

"You told her that you played football, and she made a small comment about how she slightly preferred Madrid to Barcelona."

"She wanted me to go to the Bernabeu with her." She pauses. "On the Madrid section!"

"Poor girl, you turned down a girl just because of her club preference?" You chuckled at her stubbornness.

"She was also very annoying." 

"How many dates did you go with the Madritista?" You ask her.

"One." You all burst out laughing.

"The next girl instead, more than a situationship, was a failed date. She was a friend of a friend of mine, and after the date, Ale called me and I asked how the date went, and she replied that she thought that the girl was amazing, but she didn't like the outfit, so it wouldn't work." Alba chuckles hard, making you shake your head teasingly at Alexia.

"In my defense, she was amazing, but the outfit was too distracting, so much so that it felt like our personalities wouldn't go together."

"You got all that by an outfit?" You ask her incredulously.

"Yes." She states bluntly making you playfully shake your head at her.

-

By the time lunch was finished, you were about to leave.

"It was lovely meeting the both of you. I really hope I'll see you soon." You go to hug the two women and then leave to go to the car, waiting for Alexia to say the final goodbye.

When Ale gets into the car, she sits in the driver's seat, takes your hand, and kisses it.

"Thank you for coming." 

"Thank you, for inviting me. Now let's go home; we have a couch to build."

As you get home, Ale quickly gets ready to build your Ikea couch while you take some of your most valuable stuff, like family pictures or small trinkets that hide memories that you will forever treasure. 

You were unpacking the first ball they gave you when you scored your first hat trick, then you moved to a larger box, and you soon felt overwhelmed by how much stuff you had to unpack, making you slightly regret your life choices. 

Alexia was still on the floor trying to build up your couch when she suddenly resurfaced clumsily. 

"Why are those instructions so difficult? I just feel like Ikea should be better at making them. I should ask Frido." She complains to herself, making you chuckle from across the room. 

As you looked at her while she was building your couch, without anything in return, just simply to make you feel more at home, a warm feeling spread through your chest.

You just smiled. Smiled at the woman who came out of nowhere and turned your life around. Smiled at the woman who had taken your heart without you noticing it. And then you realize that maybe what you had with Alexia right now wasn't enough for you. You wanted more. Because those feelings that you had slowly built over time weren't avoidable anymore. What you had with her wasn't enough, and you realized that you couldn't pretend anymore that you were okay with it. 

You needed to be alone, to think, to prepare yourself. Just her being in the same house as you was just too much. You were feeling too much. Feeling too much for her.

So you quickly stood up, crossing your arms, unconsciously wanting to close yourself off as much as possible.

"Ale, I need you to get out."

She turns towards you and sees how much you were shaken. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is good. I just need you to leave, please." You try to be as convincing as possible. 

"Everything is not good. You are not good. Tell me what's wrong." She rubs your shoulders soothingly in worry.

You don't know why, but your mind figured that it would be best if you'd just rip the bandaid off.

"Ale, I think we have a problem." You take a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with you."

There was no turning back now. You could take your words back, so you waited patiently as her brows furrowed and then quickly fixed in a soft expression.

"I think we have two problems then. Because I think I am in love with you too."

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics