#which is why she never crashes and burns out

[unremarkablehouse]

Domestic Partners

Summary: A look into the way Mulder and Scully’s relationship became intertwined with mundane domesticity. WC: 2,262 | AO3 Tagging @today-in-fic

The melding happened so gradually that they could both pretend it was normal and justify their commingling as convenience.

It was small things at first, learning each other’s favorite coffee, a key so she could feed his fish and get his mail. Scully imagined their bond to be one of fellow soldiers in war; fighting together and having each other’s backs. There was a romanticism to the whole dynamic, being part of something bigger than oneself and the intensity paled in comparison to any other relationship she’d ever experienced.

He used to date. Not a lot, but there was usually a woman willing to share a few meals and his bed before they realized just how broken he was. Mulder had long ago abandoned the romantic notion that there was someone who’d understand him, let alone tolerate him long enough to be anything more serious. During the first year of his Partnership with Dana Scully the frequency of which he asked women out had gradually diminished. He found the rudimentary pleasantries exchanged during first date conversations tedious and would swing for the fences with outlandish topics that brought the conversation to an awkward standstill. With little more than a good night kiss on the cheek, the dates ended and Mulder would call Scully to see how she’d answer whatever hare brained topic he’d crashed and burned on. Her answers never ceased to exceed his expectations, and eventually it just seemed more practical to stop asking other women out.

Dana Scully had no trouble attracting male attention. It seemed inevitable that her new Partner would be her lover; just as her Advisors, Supervisors and one Professor had before him. His frequent late night phone calls and his general invasion of her personal space aside, Mulder never made a move. Her feelings on the subject ran the gamut of refreshing to frustrating, unsure as to why he hadn’t used one of their late night work sessions to finagle his way into her bed. So she went on dates with other men, nice guys with respectable jobs who complimented her beauty and feigned interest in whatever she had to say. It all seemed so superficial and her desire to endure these dates waned dramatically. With Mulder, she never had to wonder if his interest was genuine and his ulterior motives were transparent. He made it very clear his desire was to have her by his side while he chased the fantastic, respecting her candor and the value she added to the work. Which is how she found herself caught in some perpetual state of “dibs” by Mulder. A sweet torture only made endurable by the knowledge it was wholly reciprocated.

So, they both dined together instead of with others. Their meals quickly became a well choreographed dance. Lunch; a Turkey club on wheat with a side of fries, split between the two. Scully distributing half a salad, careful to leave out the olives. Mulder adjusted to the low sodium soy sauce and brown rice with Chinese food; and their choice of pizza toppings were the embodiment of peace treaties in order to reach the perfect compromise.

When they first started working together Mulder skipped breakfast, drank black coffee and pilfered jelly donuts from the station or the office. Usually ready with a napkin, Scully had a remarkable knack for preemptively catching errant jelly globs before they stained Mulder’s ties. Only years later would Mulder come to realize that the times Scully had failed to intercept the jelly spills coincided with ties that she found particularly egregious and was attempting to phase out.

It only took a few months, but the enjoyment of having breakfast with Scully was enough to break Mulder of his donut habit. His new routine; a split order of wheat toast, which he smothered in jelly. ‘What’s the difference between this and my jelly donut?’ ‘About 300 calories and 12 tablespoons of sugar.’

Like a kid, Mulder was unable to eat his toast without a blob of jelly always collecting in the corner of his mouth. Scully found herself unable to resist cleaning it off, and without fail Mulder always kissed the stray jelly off Scully’s thumb. Each and every time this was met with a smile from Scully, no matter how tired or irritated she was with him, and he always thought if she smiled at him a second longer he’d just have to kiss her. Scully always turned away with a demure blush because if she looked at his goofy smile a second longer she’d just have to kiss him.

As the years of their partnership go by, so do the clothes in Mulder’s wardrobe until the majority have been purchased or approved of by Scully. It started early on, an airline losing his bag, handing some cash to Scully to pick him up some clothes while on assignment. Giving her his credit card to pick up some new shirts for work after she announced she was shopping with her mother on the weekend. Mulder detested shopping and was grateful to relinquish control to Scully in this domain. There was something about shopping for a man that Scully has always loved, and Mulder was the perfect specimen. Unsure whether Mulder’s mismatched ties and suits were a result of his color blindness or lack of fashion, Scully picked suits that were better fitted and easier to mix and match for Mulder. She loves soft textured sweaters on him and supplies him with colors that made his hazel eyes sparkle. Even though Scully knew his sizes by heart, Mulder always made a show of trying on his new clothes for her, pretending to be oblivious to her stares as he parades around half naked while changing.

The two agents have more tactical clothing in their respective wardrobes than any other agents at the FBI, which is something they’re both proud of. It started as a battle with Finance on their first case. The FBI would not reimburse Mulder and Scully for their suits that were destroyed in the Field as a matter of policy. Outraged, Scully challenged the decision, adding the expense of every additional clothing item that was destroyed between the pair to the ongoing exchange regarding the expense report and then kept including more senior officials to the debate. Finally, a Director who may have had more than a passing interest in Scully, responded and explained the policy was due to the IRS. Essentially, the issue came down to suits and dress shoes being a non-deductible expense so they could not just be reimbursed financially for the loss of work clothing, however they would receive credit for any lost clothes so long as it was used for items deemed as tactical gear. Thus began the great L.L Bean haul, where Mulder and Scully tried to recoup close to a thousand dollars worth of lost work clothing on hiking and sporting gear. They both got multiple sized mag lights, hiking boots, thermal underwear, socks, trench coats and a variety of waterproof jackets. As far as bureaucratic victories goes, this was one of their greatest triumphs and buying new “tactical gear” became a beloved ritual between the pair as they got some form of justice for their destroyed garments.

When it came to cleaning their clothes, a clear division of labor had been established between the pair. Mulder was responsible for taking all their dry cleaning in and picking it up. They had an understanding that Mulder always pays to clean both their clothes as he owed Scully a lifetime of free dry cleaning based on Tooms alone.

Scully does the rest of their laundry at her place because she has a machine in her unit and knows how to soak and pretreat things. Mulder loves that his clothes smell like her and wonders what she does to his undershirts to make them so soft. He would ask her, but doing it himself would lose the magic because part of the truth is that it is the care Scully puts in that makes it special.

Most professional travelers rarely check luggage, opting for carry on only. With the size of Scully’s medical kit and the sheer variety of climates they end up in, the pair often share a checked bag as well as their individual carry on. Where possible they try to avoid transfers, opting to drive from major airports to the towns, trying to reduce the risk of lost luggage and missed connecting flights.

They usually carpooled to the airport in a routine so familiar it became muscle memory. Mulder puts Scully’s bag in his trunk while she settles in the passenger seat and starts sipping on the coffee he’s brought for her. Without discussion Scully takes a bite of half of Mulder’s bagel and always makes a face when she realizes it’s light cream cheese. He resists the urge to kiss her pout, but keeps his bagel order the same; tempting fate each time they travel.

There are ongoing games they play while traveling; spotting license plates, hypotheticals, twenty questions, fact or fiction, thumb wrestling. They try to keep the games fun and light hearted, but Scully is competitive and Mulder loves goading her. On long stretches of empty highway Mulder liked to pretend that they’re the only two people left on Earth and for some reason that thought made him happy.

Despite his adamant denial, Mulder gets car sick when attempting to read in the car so often he drove and Scully navigated. For all her many skills Scully isn’t great with maps, but much to her annoyance Mulder has an almost eerie intuition when it comes to directions. She questioned him every so often, willing him to be wrong just once, but so far it has only made her more certain that Mulder is part compass.

Between the pair they’ve taken a two star tour of motels across America thanks to the FBI’s guide of approved accommodations. The fixtures, beds and set up between the rooms vary slightly but after a few years of working with Scully these motels start to feel more like home to Mulder than his own apartment. Mulder has no qualms making himself comfortable in Scully’s room, leaving clothing behind and lying on her bed. Despite her futile objections, Scully understands that their rooms are a shared space, and has grown accustomed to her motel pillow smelling like him.

Scully regularly falls asleep in his room; late nights reviewing case notes, jet lag or just watching tv. Through their partnership they’ve shared a bed more often than not, but it doesn’t seem to count if they don’t talk about it and one of them leaves before the sunrise.

It was Scully’s suggestion that on the weekend they start spending time apart, eager to create some work life balance. For Mulder, this seemed like a punishment, and initially he spent the first few weekends calling her with feckless excuses simply to hear her voice. Despite feigning agitation, Scully never hesitated to take his calls, and enjoyed their chats more than she let on.

Within a few weeks a compromise was made and Mulder was invited to join her in eating leftovers made by her mother on Monday nights. On mention of this new routine, Maggie quickly started making up plates specifically for Fox, baffled as to why Dana just didn’t bring him to dinner on Sunday. Scully noticed that Mulder’s plates always had the biggest pieces of casserole and he was always supplied with dessert (even at the cost of a dinner guest not getting seconds). 

Friday nights became when they would watch movies at his place. For years they kept up a pretense of reviewing case notes on these nights, but the rented video and take out easily distracted them and their productivity never eventuated passed a vague discussion of whatever case they’d been working on.

Scully’s boundary to maintain some professional distance over the weekend began to fail miserably as they started bumping into each other at museum exhibits or movies they’d mentioned to each other during the week, so it just became logical to coordinate to go together.

Soon grocery shopping became an activity they started doing together because the supermarket in Virginia stocked the fancy cheese Scully liked and she could make sure Mulder bought more than just beer and poptarts. Scully always stocked poptarts and sunflower seeds at her house for him. Mulder always has diet soda and carrot sticks in his fridge for her.

She steals his shirts and sleeps in them because they smell like him. Mulder steals them back after she cleans them and pretends not to notice when he sees her wearing one to bed or around the house.

He has accused her of being a cat because she always snuggles into him when she’s cold and only wants affection on her terms, she also gets pissy when she gets wet. This is met with an eye roll and a decidedly feline look of disdain from Scully that Mulder adores. If Scully is a cat then Mulder is her unwieldy golden retriever, a statement met with glee by Mulder as he shakes his head like a dog and gives her a big slobbery kiss on the cheek, earning him a laugh while Scully scratches her hands through his hair.

One day they’ll argue over when exactly their anniversary is because how could you possibly pick which milestone gets precedence? The truth is they were a couple long before they were ever ‘together’ and perhaps that alone means the start was their beginning.

Note: This is a completely new style for me, it’s almost head canon and kind of poetic. I’m contemplating doing other chapters but I’m not sure if it works. Let me know in the comments if it’s worth doing a Relationship chapter and an IWTB era chapter. No beta, just me and my scrambled brain.

#txf #The x files #txf fanfic #xf fanfic #msr #fox mulder #dana scully

[wornkindness]

this is one of those things that deserves a much longer meta because it's been rattling around in my brain for ages. but there's a lot actually about tcw amelia struggles with, pretty much from the start. it only gets worse as the wars going on. she says nothing about it to anyone outside of a very select small group of people. one of them being her father. tbh she spends more time making sure everyone else is taken care of so they don't crumble under the weight of everything before at all looking to herself

#&. i just really like sharks okay : ooc #amelia takes self care and having hobbies that aren't at all involved with her work very seriously from the get go #which is why she never crashes and burns out #but it does weigh on her #and when i say i small group of people i mostly mean her father which that alone is also it's own meta tbh #and in some cases obi wan but he has enough to deal with so it's not very often #but it's a thing im open to plotting about #&. GENERAL #&. verse : star wars

[emdotcom]

Made (bad?) motivational images out of quotes that bounce around in my skull like the DVD screensaver.

“Felix. I need you to pick up the phone. Now.” -- Jack Walten, the Walten Files.

“Have these statements always been true? Or have I cursed you? Is such a thing possible? A curse that changes your past?” -- ???, Petscop

“Like a thunderclap to a small dog... I felt a strange powerlessness... Countless wonderful things were happening... ‘I want to be kinder.” -- Toby Fox I had to horribly misrepresent this quote to get it to fit. GO read the full post where they say this.

“There’s just no peace for me, anymore.” -- Wolverine, X-Men: The Animated Series (1992-1997)

#petscop #twf #the walten files #jack walten #rainer petscop #undertale #yeah i think these actually say something abt me. not sure what other than i have trauma lmao #the last one i heard when i was like 8 & it stuck with me too hard even though i didn't realize why #i have always attributed that specific petscop quote to rainer as the maker of the game but lmk if that's wrong or whatever #anyhow proud pilferer of gettyimages i love open source #i made these in krita in like 30 mins & the 2nd one made it crash #v inspired by that one time everyone was posting around inspirational images w/ the 'i survived bc the fire within me burned brighter #than the fire around me' quote which was from a video game & was meant literally #the power of some of these is that random words taken out of context can mean a lot #but these are all special bc of the context around them! #the 'felix i need you to pick up the phone scene' is so strong. can't say more bc i detest spoiling #'have these statements always been true or have i cursed you?' is a character trying to explain a day shrouded in mystery #trying to put the viewer in the mindset of a little girl that experienced something she never told in full to anybody #to get them to imagine what happened to her on that day #but it also is directed to that girl in a way. reminding her of something that never happened but did occur. #in full context the toby fox quote is about the terror of creating something that becomes bigger than you could imagine very quickly #combined with the fact that he had once begged content creators not to cover the game it paints a picture #but also he is talking about what good undertale did for the world & in turn him #& in the last one. wolverine has nothing. he has nobody. he has no name. he is naked and covered in blood. #he has just attacked a woman. she is the first person he is seen in months if not years. #he does not know why he has attacked her. she has done nothing to provoke him. it is simply that his mind is so contorted by pain & fear #conditioned to fight or die that it is all he can comprehend. he has become nothing more than a bloodthirsty animal #he speaks for the first time in a long long time. he screams out into the ice & trees. 'there's just no peace for me anymore.' #this too they have taken from him. #it will get better from here. but in this crystalline moment this is what he has become

[tacticaldiary]

A Cracked And Fissured Door

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking."

It stings, if she's being honest. Being kept at an arms length when in public. Most people know about them, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

Masterlist

"If he sends us out before next week I'm quitting." Soap groans, back cracking as he flops down forward on the bar. "Three ops in a week? What do I look like, a machine?"

Gaz snickers, raising his glass to that. "Bloody might well be at this point."

She hides a smile behind her own drink, leaning back into the bar. They had done three ops in a week, mission after mission after mission. It had been pretty rough, just as Soap said and she was more than ready to crash and burn and sleep for three days straight but abandoning their tradition of getting drinks at this specific bar everything Saturday was not something anyone on the 141 was willing to break.

"Just be glad we got the weekend off." Ghost says from beside her. She smiles warmly at him, is rewarded with a slightly blank look.

The flicker of her smile is hid behind another sip.

"Betcha your gonna take advantage of that, eh?" Soap nudges her, looking pointedly between her and Ghost. The latter rolls his eyes and says nothing.

"Only thing I'm looking forward to is an actual mattress." She knocks back the last of her drink and stands, shrugging Gaz's arm slung over her shoulder. "Speaking of which, I think it's about time we call it a night." Casting a glance at her boyfriend, who merely nods in confirmation and pushes the stool back himself, she nods at the others. "Don't cause too much trouble, boys. Text us when you're home safe, yeah?"

"We just got shot at for a week, don't think a car ride home is gonna be the end of us." Soap snorts.

"You never know." Is all she says before stepping out of the bar with Ghost, who offers her her coat to shrug on.

"Hell of a week." She comments, glancing at him gratefully as she shrugs on the warm fabric.

"Just glad it's over," Simon says simply.

Walking back to their car, she can't help but cast quiet glances at him as they walk. She knows Ghost notices them, chooses to keep looking ahead and keep the silence.

Truth be told, she aches to touch him.

Aches to feel his skin on hers, to feel the callouses of his hands brush against hers. His heat, ever all-encompassing makes her feel safe in a way no bulletproof vest ever could.

"Think I might ask Price to assign me desk duty for a while." She jokes, knocking their shoulders together gently.

To the untrained eye, to someone who might not have been tuned to what makes Simon Simon, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but he leans subtly away so they don't touch again.

She doesn't mention it, but it makes her heart heavy.

It's nothing new. She's not sure why she's even surprised anymore.

Trying again, her arm hangs beside her, purposefully brushing against his gloves. The frown on her face deepens when he shoves his hands into his pockets.

Maybe it's the exhausting week she's had, but it gets to her, infects her heart, mind, and soul with the insecurity she keeps locked behind a cracked and fissured door in her mind.

It stings, if she's being honest.

He's not the most...social person. Closed off and private, but baring her soul to someone she loves and getting so little in return...

Being kept at an arm's length when in public, even though their relationship is not a secret. Most people know, actually, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

The car ride home is silent, but not in a comfortable way their quiet is usually shared. Simon seems to pick up on it, because he grips the steering wheel a little too hard, the tension in his shoulders a little too foreign.

Gaz had no problem touching her. A friendly punch to the arm, an arm around her shoulder. Soap was a touchy person by nature, nudging her and ruffling her hair.

So why was it that Simon always pulled away?

The one person who should love her the most, who should be proud of loving her...why does he pull away and pretend this thing between them doesn't exist.

She doesn't get it, hasn't understood for the past two years they've been together. Pushing was not something she'd considered given his stubbornness and private nature, but there's no denying she's always felt a twinge of hurt whenever he disregards her in public.

Was he...ashamed? Of her? Did he not want to be seen with her?

The thought latches itself onto her, sucking away the usual confidence she carries and leaving her a nervous mess. It makes her sick. Before she knows it they're back home but she can't find herself to walk any farther than the front door that's shut behind her.

He doesn't comment on it, just casts her an inquisitive look before moving to the kitchen in view.

Simon always did like a cup of tea before bed.

"Simon?" The word comes out a little garbled, caught in her indecision, and morphed into something muffled. He hears it, because of course he does, and hums. Doesn't look up from where he's rifling through the cupboards for his kettle.

The air is cold in her lungs, freezes up with nerves, and this is all so ridiculous. It's stupid and she shouldn't be feeling this way but she does because she just does.

Trust was a precious jewel, a diamond only given to those who trusted enough to keep it unmarred. Necklaces and earrings and bracelets, she feels like she could make millions of intricate pieces with the bits of trust she had bared for Simon to take and keep as his own.

Simon knows what she loves, what she hates, how she feels about anything and everything. The rhyme and reasons, the way she ticks, and what throws her off kilter. He knows it all, it's been given willingly and eagerly to the man who took her heart with that rough demeanour on the tarmac two years ago.

She had given him all her gems, the shiniest and the dullest ones, but he's never even been bothered to spare her a piece of coal.

When she doesn't speak immediately, he pauses his movements and sets down the kettle on the counter with a 'clink'. "What's the matter, love?" He straightens up.

"Do you want to be with me?" She blurts out, unable to fathom leaving this conversation for another day. Not when she's so worked up and hurt and feeling.

His face stays blank, and when he responds it's almost as if he's doing it carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked." The sides of her coat are clutched with a knuckle-white grip, nausea making her an inch away from ruining the lovely carpet they'd picked out together when they'd first moved in.

Simon furrows his brows. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked." Unease starts to curl up in her gut. "Do you like me, Simon?"

"Of course I fucking like you, what are you talking about?"

"You sure don't act like it."

There.

It's in the open now. Simon stares at her for a moment, shocked or stunned or whatever emotion that causes him to clam up for a moment.

He never really was good at this part of their relationship, but this...it was vital. It was important because she refuses to let this problem define what they have together.

"You don't touch me when we're not alone." She starts, "You act like I'm just no one when we're out together. You barely acknowledge me any more than anybody else, pull away when I try to touch you." It feels good to let this all off her chest. Months and months of trying to figure out what was going on. "Tell me why. I just want to know why."

"I'm a private person-"

"No Simon, that's not what this is." She shakes her head, emotion rising inside her. "You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking. Like I'm...like you want to keep me a secret."

Her eyes are glassy because saying it hurts so fucking much, but it needs to be said. It needs to be voiced, he needs to listen and acknowledge-

"You know that's not true, so it shouldn't be a bloody problem-"

"Do I?" A laugh burst out of her, unexpected and short. It's enough to cut him off, cause him to narrow his eyes. "You've never told or indicated that to me. Not once. Not in two years."

"It's common sense. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want you." She can tell he's trying to stay level, to meet her in the middle but all caution gets thrown to the wind because is he really trying to argue with her on this?

"No, it's not." She insists, trying not to raise her voice as anger bubbles up inside her. Was he not getting it? Not understanding that this was hurting her? That he was hurting her? "Sometimes I-..." She swallows, "Sometimes I'll be having a great time, like today. I'll be laughing and enjoying myself and then I'll glance at you, or try and do something as simple as brush shoulders, and I'll watch you push me away. Or pull away." Her voice waver but she fights to keep it steady. "And it makes me feel miserable because what is it about me that makes my own boyfriend not want to accidentally touch me?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He says, hackles raised at being put on the spot like this. Ghost doesn't mean to, but this is all so new to him and the only thing he knows how to do in these rapidly changing situations is to be sharp and jagged and tense. "If you're so miserable, why are you still here?"

"Because I love you!" She cries out. "And I can't help but think that I might never get the same back from you." Her grip on her coat tightens.

There's a beat of silence.

"I never asked you to. You knew what you were getting yourself into."

His words cut through the quiet, as sharp as the blades he keeps strapped to his thigh.

"Oh, fuck you." She whispers. "Don't give me that bullshit. That's not an excuse for not trying-"

"Not trying?" His voice gets slightly louder. "I try every day. I try to be someone you deserve but you're bloody well making it difficult when-"

"Just stop!" She yells over him. "Stop. I'm not asking for something you can't give. I'm just asking for an explanation."

"I can't-"

"You can!" To her dismay, her eyes burn with tears that are bound to fall in a few seconds, but she's too far into it to turn around now. "It's been two fucking years, Simon. Two years. I've never pushed or pressured you, I've listened and sat here and tried to be the one you can come to, but you never do." She sniffles, wiping her tears away roughly.

He stays silent, visibly frustrated but letting her talk.

"Do you know what they say back at base?" She spits out. "About me? They say I've forced you into being with me." A hollow laugh. "That I've got some dirt on you that keeps you quiet, or that I'm just someone you pass the time at night with because everyone thinks that you want nothing to do with me during the day. They talk about why we're still together, why you're still with me when you clearly have no interest." Her tears are long forgotten, left to trail down her cheeks in rivers of hurt. "They say...they say I'm only on the 141 because of our relationship."

And that was what hurt the most. Her own skills undermined like that.

That startles him enough to pull his brows in confusion "I didn't know..."

"Of course you don't, why would they say it in front of the man who looks like he could snap their spines in half?"

She waits for him to speak. To say something, anything, but all he does is stare at her with those half-blank eyes that she can never decipher and it infuriates her because did he not just listen to what she's told him.

"You know what, forget it." She chokes out. "I'm done. I'm fucking done with this." She gestures to them both, vaguely watching his eyes widen with muted panic. Getting shoved into a woodchipper would be less painful than the hurt that tears through her chest, hiccupping on swallowed sobs.

"Hold on-"

"I can't be the only one keeping us both afloat." She reaches behind her for the doorknob. "I don't want that. I love you, Simon. I really do, but it hurts so fucking much when you act like I'm disposable, like you're ashamed of being seen with me."

The door is pulled open by her, and then roughly shoved shut by Simon. He moves quicker than she could register, behind the counter one moment and right in front of her the next. His hand stays firmly on the door, keeping it shut as he leans down to catch her gaze.

"Ashamed is the last thing I am about you." He says quickly, clumsily. "I-...fucking hell that's not right at all, love."

Simon is...he's panicking.

The thought strikes her immediately with the way his chest rises and falls quickly, the lack of that cold clipped grace in his voice.

"I don't care." She chokes on a cry, hands planting themselves firmly on his chest to shove him away. It's like nudging a brick wall. The man is immovable, standing in place with their bodies so close it feels like they're sharing heat. "I'm tired, and you're making it worse so let me go." He grabs her wrists, presses them against himself to keep her in place. His hands are warm, rid of the gloves he usually dons.

She's met with every inch of that scarred face of his. She hadn't noticed but he'd discarded his mask as he'd been rushing around the counter to get to her.

"Listen to me." He breathes, trying to get his thoughts straight and keep her there with him. He can't lose her, can't let her walk out the door because he's afraid that she might never come back. "Please."

It's the last word that pauses her struggle. Simon...he was someone who operated on orders and demands so the frantic and silent plea pushed into the word is enough to make her still for a moment.

And a moment is all he needs.

"I've never..." He thinks for a moment. Never has she seen him look so frazzled. He tries again. "Everyone I've ever loved has been killed." Her eyes widen at the declaration. "My family. My friends...everyone." His breath fans over her face with how he's leaned down, hot so very him. "I think I'm afraid if I show the world I love you it might try and take you from me too." Simon's voice breaks at the end, as if he's voiced something from his nightmares and despite the pain she's feeling the sound slices through her. "And I can't...I can't live with losing you too."

With bated breath, he waits for her to respond. Part of him can't bear to look her in the eyes after the admission but he finds himself staring at her face anyway, drinking in any sign of hope.

Hope. How long has it been since he's felt the warm rays of such a feeling?

Slowly, so slowly it makes his breath hitch, she tugs her hand free on his. For a moment Simon thinks she might push him away again and his heart sinks like a stone, but then her fingertips graze his face, her hands cup his cheeks and suddenly they interlock behind his head, pulling him in.

Simon crushes her into him, tucking her head under his chin with a shuddering breath of relief. He's not lost her, not completely.

Hope.

There was still such a thing for a man like him after all.

"I'm not going anywhere." She mumbles into the crook of his neck, the feeling of his lips moving on his skin sending a shiver up his spine. "I'm so sorry, Simon. If you'd told me that before I would have tried to help-..."

Simon shakes his head immediately, arms tightening around her. "I chose not to tell you. The thought of coming home and seeing you on the ground...bloody...like them." He swallows past the lump in his throat. "Fuck, I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetheart."

Simon didn't apologise often, so when he did that means he knows he's fucked up.

She does not tell him it's alright, that she forgives him or that he's fine. Because he's not. His apology, his honesty doesn't make the months of hurt go away. It still aches at her like before, but this time the ache has a meaning behind it. It has a reason.

They hold each other for a moment, against the door, two people knee-deep in a problem that's been brewing for weeks and weeks, bubbled over the edge in the ugliest way possible.

"I need you to try." She whispers after a moment, the barest of smiles gracing her face when he nods slowly.

"I know." He says simply against her hair. Gently swaying in each other's hold, both are content to stay there for a while, to calm their racing hearts with the knowledge that the other is still there, is real and solid under their hands.

And it's enough.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Change is a slow trek to an ever extending finish line.

Simon keeps his word. If there's anything it's good at, it's resilience. Though it makes him antsy and paranoid and dare he say slightly nervous to open such a part of him to somebody again, he tries.

He tried because he'd rather saw his own arm off than be the one who gives her a reason to leave. Not her. Not the best thing that's happened to him in years, the person who's managed to wake up Simon after years of being Ghost.

A subtle brush of hands as they walk.

An arm around her shoulder while they drink.

Thighs and sides pressed together as they take their seats on a heli.

The squeeze of her knee from under the table.

It builds and builds into something warm and new and fresh, a feeling that overshadows all the worry he had about the universe having a vendetta against him because if there was one good thing that Simon Riley wanted to keep, it was her.

Their weekend is filled with conversations, real conversations about things they've kept to themselves, worries and concerns, and moments of hesitance. He tries his best, though some words die on his tongue before he can get them out. She pushes him, but never more than he can take. Heart, body, and soul, she knows him like the back of her hand but he's the only one who can truly let her into his mind.

All that aside Simon also has another more personal task to work through once their weekend is over.

After paying some not-so-nice visits to more than a dozen people (to his absolute fury), she never once hears a peep of another disgusting rumour ever again.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(26/07/2023)

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #x reader #x y/n #cod mw22 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod ghost #cod mw ghost #ghost simon riley #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction #cod fic #cod fluff #cod gaz #cod headcanons #cod imagines

[maiiiwrites]

★ | ATTENTION STUDENTS . JPEG

PAIRING ! theodore nott x f!reader

IN WHICH your arrival at hogwarts is stirring up trouble

you roamed the halls of hogwarts. feeling overwhelmed in a good way. no words are enough to explain how happy you are to finally be here. the transfer process took so long and stressed everyone who handled it. thankfully your parents assigned someone to do the papers for you.

your arrival at hogwarts mid term grabbed everyone's attention. everyone had questions and wasn't exactly quiet about their theories. they wanted to know who, what, where, why you we're here.

"a new student? in the middle of the term?"

"how odd is that?"

"look there she is, the new student"

you continued walking, not bothering to acknowledge the students trying to get your attention. you were only looking forward to one person. in that exact moment, your eyes finally met for the first time in months. you couldn't mask your excitement from that interaction alone.

theodore didn't expect a new student, much less his lovely girlfriend. his gaze softened and a small smile managed to slip through.

two souls finally feeling each others presence after being apart for too long

that's how it went for the next few days. just simple little glances and the occasional exchange of letters. much to theodore's dismay, his subtle actions of affection did not go unnoticed by the group.

blaise was particularly nosey about his relationship with you. he was always the one who caught onto the small smiles across the hall, playing on the thread bracelet on his wrist, and the hidden love letters in his desk drawer.

"sooo.. theodore what's up with you and the new gal," blaise not so subtly asked during breakfast.

theodore perked at the mention of you, "nothing."

"oh come on there's obviously something! at least give me a hint," blaise continued.

"sure. here's a hint, im not telling you."

theodore knew there was no escaping this. they're bound to find out sooner or later. for now, the plan was to stay silent and leave loose ends. leave them curious for a while, but his fool proof plan came crashing down the moment you walked in the great hall.

you smiled at your friends seated at the table. looking forward to having your stomach filled. however, boys surrounded you with gifts and letters before you could even settle down.

you attempted to slip away but they were simply too much. feeling more crowded by the passing second. theodore didn't like how crowded you seemed. the obvious panic on your features was his last straw.

he abruptly stood up from his seat and walked towards you. leaving his friends intrigued by the sudden outburst.

theodore easily made his way to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. the action catching you by surprise until realizing its just theo. your theo.

"everyone back off! you're making my girl feel uncomfortable,"

the whole hall went silent at the confession. the crowd of boys slowly disappeared heartbroken and taken aback from theodore's claim. leaving his act of affection on display for everyone to see.

you turn around facing theodore. finally seeing him up close since your arrival.

"is it just me or you got prettier since the last time i saw you?" you teased.

theodore rolled his eyes and kissed the corner of your lips. "you've been causing a lot of trouble lately," theodore hummed.

you gasp, faking offense by his words. "are you accusing your sweet girlfriend?"

he laughed at your silly antics and hugged you tighter. "never, trouble."

you smiled hearing your special nickname.

"i love you and all but your friends are burning holes through my head," you point, particularly at blaise. theodore finally realized you're both (still) in the middle of the great hall wrapped in each others arms.

he chuckled finding the entire situation funny. theodore finally let you go and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i better go back, trouble."

"does this mean we can visit each other now.." you beamed.

who has he to deny your love and attention. "always."

© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

#www.iloveharrypotter.com #. * ᕀ my blurbs ° . #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fluff

[veryberryjelly]

gone to shit

pairing : jake peralta x fem!reader

prompt : "can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

your day had been going too well for it to continue.

you had gotten to your local coffee shop before it got too busy, gotten up to the bullpen without getting catcalled by some jackass outside and you and your boyfriend were the only ones in the office which was nice.

it was quiet and the first 30 minutes your day was spent sat opposite jake just talking until your friends and colleagues filtered in through the elevator.

and then everything came crashing down.

multiple people in the holding cell caused the bullpen to be filled with noise which was unsettling.

the coffee you had gotten this morning spilled over your desk and your lap.

your phone had died half way through a conversation with your sister and you knew she wouldn't appreciate it seeming like you hung up on her.

and you had misfiled some evidence and had to talk to holt to fix it.

you hoped he would be in a good mood so this wouldn't end up with you getting reamed out.

unfortunately that was not the case.

while he didnt yell you could sense the annoyance & slight disappointment in his tone as he told you do leave so he could deal with it.

and you did leave.

but instead of heading back to your desk you went to the evidence lock up, heading towards the back corner and sinking down onto the floor, the cool surface bringing you out of your head very slightly.

but it wasnt enough to stop the hot burning tears from falling from your eyes.

this wasnt something you should be getting so upset about, there were people in the world that had it a lot worse than you and here you were crying over the tiniest things.

just because they had happened in quick succession it felt so overwhelming.

you were way too in your own head to notice your name being called quietly into the room.

it was only when you saw a set of shoes infront of you that your attention was pulled from the spiralling thoughts in your head.

your hands instantly lifted to wipe at your cheeks to try and pass it off like you weren't crying.

" woah woah, hey. what's wrong, babe? "

the sound of jake's voice did not relax you as much as usual.

you shook your head, trying to shake off this awful tightness in your chest but that did nothing to calm jake's worry.

he crouched down beside you momentarily before sitting down next to you, knowing that his gaze on you could overwhelm you even further.

his arm dropped to around your shoulders and your head instantly dropped down onto the soft fabric of his hoodie.

" you wanna tell me why you're hiding in the evidence lock up ?" he asked, his fingertips running over the fabric of your shirt.

" everything was just going so well this morning and then i spilled my coffee, the holding cell is so full of jackasses, my phone died and then i misfiled some evidence... it all just went to shit "

his small motions on your shoulder were calming you slightly but not by much, your shoulders were still shaking and you couldnt bring yourself to take a full breath.

jake didn't reply for a few moments but his fingertips kept tracing shapes over your shoulder.

" ok, well these are all easy fixes. rosa has a charger in her desk she'll let you use, the holding cell is thinning out really quickly and you left a spare pair of jeans at my apartment a couple days ago and i brought them to give back to you, so you can change into those. "

how he managed to solve all of your problems so quickly you'll never know, but you were just so grateful.

you turned your body further into his, smiling softly when he wrapped his arm tighter around you and pressed a short kiss onto the top of your head.

" thank you "

" you're welcome, babe " he said quietly.

both of you remained sat on the floor of the evidence lock up for a couple more minutes before jake moved to stand and lead both of you back to the bullpen.

before he could take you outside you pulled him back by his hand, a soft and playful pout resting on your lips.

"can i have one more hug?" you asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

a grin spread across his face.

"aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

you quickly closed the two feet between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head buried against his chest.

another 5 minutes were spent surrounded by weapons in boxes just hugging your boyfriend.

but when you returned to the bullpen, everything seemed a little bit better

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐟𝐢𝐜 #·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐚 #jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta icons #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta smut #jake peralta x you #b99 #b99 quotes #source: b99 #b99edit #b99 meme #b99 icons #b99 incorrect quotes #b99 spoilers #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn baby #brooklyn nine nine icons #brooklyn nine nine x reader #brooklyn nine nine imagine #raymond holt #amy santiago #charles boyle #rosa diaz #andy samberg #andy samberg icons #lonely island #peraltiago

[astonmartinii]

loving on a sunday | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x reader

y/n and lando, the grid and an honest attempt at a sunday roast

masterlist if you want to leave a tip x

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 601,239 others

yourusername: warning !! do not own a nice country house and farm because you will get lumped with the annual post season grid dinner, SEB PLEASE COME BACK I CAN"T TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY @landonorris what are you going to do when they find out you can't cook?

view all comments

user1: learning that lando can't cook is the least surprising thing in the entire world

user2: i'm sorry post season grid dinner? brb just going to cry my eyes out why haven't we heard of this before

user3: for my mental health i need photographic evidence asap

landonorris: way to bait me out in front of the whole world, thanks babe

yourusername: i'm sorry but if this crashes and burns i need people to know that it was your fault (because it defo would be)

landonorris: where is the faith? you back me to win every race but won't back me to make some roast potatoes :(

yourusername: babe when i was sick you burnt the soup so bad we had to throw the pan out

landonorris: I TRIED I WAS STRESSED YOU WERE SICK

yourusername: awwww babe, but it was le crueset and literally cost more than my life

sebastianvettel: it's been an honour to host it but i know you and lando will do great, send me all the photos !

yourusername: thank you seb, please come visit the farm at some point xx

landonorris: see i knew seb would have faith in me thanks mate

user4: lando's gf being a farm girl makes so much sense but also no sense what so ever

yourusername: tis the south west babe it's either banksy or farmers and nothing in between

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,023,677 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: should be peeling potatoes right now she's too pretty

view all comments

user10: oh to be a kitty cat being cuddled by y/n

yourusername: you're such a smooth talker babe but those potatoes won't peel themselves

landonorris: my years of being teammates with carlos has come in clutch

yourusername: you still suck at flirting i just love you so i still swoon, any other person would probably laugh in your face

landonorris: gonna ignore the insult and focus on the fact that you love me

user11: i swear every time i see y/n she's with another animal i've never seen before

yourusername: my farm is a safe haven for any animal, if they find themselves there they'll leave with a full tummy and a good load of cuddles

maxverstappen1: if lando is on potato duty does this mean we won't get them? they're my favourite part of a roast y/n PLEASE STEP IN

landonorris: oh wow i see how it is

maxverstappen1: i'm dutch i'm so serious about my potatoes

landonorris: i also don't fuck around about roast potatoes HAVE FAITH

user12: can we start a petition for lando to stream this? like at least the cooking portion

yourusername: watching my nervous breakdown live would not be ethical

landonorris: it's true she threw a carrot at my head the first time she cooked for my family

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 590,455 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

oscarpiastri: officially a farm boy for the week (also known as third wheeling for seven days)

view all comments

user15: omg oscar went early? my mclaren heart is so full

yourusername: so so happy to have you here osc!! though you're not any more trustworthy in the kitchen

oscarpiastri: i'd defend myself but we've all seen me fail to boil an egg

yourusername: you tried your best !! but you've mastered the english tea which is a massive asset

oscarpiastri: i think i'd lose my seat if i couldn't make a cup of tea

user16: obsessed with y/n dragging everyone for being menaces in the kitchen

user17: love how oscar was like: post lando? no. post ducks? yes.

landonorris: mate you asked to come early don't complain about third wheeling now

oscarpiastri: i know i asked to come early but if y'all could lay off the soft porn for two seconds would be appreciated

landonorris: don't pretend you don't enjoy it mate ;)

yourusername: lando don't be mean :(

landonorris: i'm sorry oscar, i'm sure you don't enjoy watching us be happy

oscarpiastri: thanks i guess?

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,034,560 others

charles_leclerc: sad to announce i've been banned from the kitchen:( even banned from making drinks as well

view all comments

user18: this is defo the banning i agree with, we all saw the vlog with the pesto pasta

user19: tbf i've come to the conclusion the one person y/n would let into the kitchen is seb

yourusername: you're not wrong

user20: i need a chick in my dungarees right now

yourusername: why are you complaining about a free pass to sit on the couch and have someone else cook for you?

charles_leclerc: well when you put it like that ....

landonorris: let me revoke all of my previous complaints

yourusername: you know i like to treat you baby

charles_leclerc: why thank you y/n but that's an inappropriate thing to say while in a relationship

yourusername: it was in reply to lando's comment charles 😭

landonorris: guy forgot he could read for a second

charles_leclerc: MY BAD

user21: i know charles didn't come to a farm in all white

yourusername: i regret to inform you he did (it's all designer as well)

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 702,340 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sunday roasts are my love language, so happy to host the grid dinner with the love of my life

view all comments

user23: at first i thought she was being a bit too serious about this but that roast looks like it BANGS

user24: legit i need one asap

georgerussell63: carmen wants the recipe please and thank you

yourusername: bring her to the farm next time we're free and i'll teach her in person

carmenmundt: thank you darling

yourusername: anything for you

landonorris: ummm what about the guy you called the love of your life in the caption?

yourusername: i love you but i've tried to teach you to cook way too many times

user25: i'm sorry lando is so sexy

user26: forget lando, every pic i've seen of this house is the sexiest thing in the world

carlossainz55: thank you for hosting y/n and lando!! i had a great time see you on new years

yourusername: no worries chilli

maxverstappen1: the roast was the best thing i've ever eaten, i'll only dock points because i had to top and tail with daniel

yourusername: i didn't see you complain when i walked in on you guys cuddling

danielricciardo: you told me you loved it :(

maxverstappen1: i did !!! i enjoyed all of it, especially the roast though

landonorris: second to a roast @danielricciardo that's tough

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,208,943 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: so honoured to host the grid dinner and take over from such an inspiration in seb!! but mostly thanks to y/n for hosting at her farm and putting together an amazing dinner and weekend - also thanks for not killing the grid, i defo would have

view all comments

user27: i would've given a kidney to be there for real

lewishamilton: thank you for having us and for the sick nut roast

yourusername: we love you and roscoe !! and vegans are always welcome on my farm

user28: ROSCOE WENT?

yukitsunoda0511: thank you y/n i no longer think that english food is an abomination

yourusername: wow thank you yuki, i knew it would be hard when your only exposure was ... milton keynes

landonorris: wow my girlfriend is a miracle worker, and you're welcome yuki san we loved having you

user29: watching lando go from rookie to hosting the grid dinner, i'm soft

oscarpiastri: i love it here i'm sorry you're not getting rid of me

yourusername: no worries osc, you can stay as long as you want

landonorris: no complaining about third wheeling though, you're basically our child now

user30: experienced racer and rookie teammate friendships are so special to ME

danielricciardo: glad i managed to get my seat back just for this roast tbf

landonorris: not cause you missed me?

danielricciardo: eh i guess so

yourusername: just let me know when you're in england and you can come over for another

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

[fan-fantasies]

Fake It

Please comment and reblog! I’d appreciate it!

A/N: I apologize for my absence but life is roundhouse kicking my ass right now. But I’m super excited about this piece!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings: smut! Dom!eddie, spitting, name calling (both sweet and dirty- slut), unprotected sex, daddy kink!, creampie, mentions of porn

“Maybe it’s me; maybe I’m broken,” you sighed to Robin. She simply rolled her eyes as she continued to sort through the return stack.

“It’s not you- guys just suck,” she said.

“Hey!” Steve yelled from the back.

“Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop then!” You yelled back.

“Maybe you guys should just speak louder!”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill him,” you mumbled. “Seriously, Robin- is it to much to ask for a guy to make me feel good? He doesn’t even have to make me cum, just make me feel something!”

“Eh-hem.” The sudden clearing of a throat made you jump as you whipped around to see a flustered Eddie Munson standing awkwardly at the counter.

“Shit!”

“Munson! What’s up, man?” Steve said with a smile, emerging from the back.

“N-not a whole lot. Looking to see if you got any new releases in,” he said, his eyes not leaving you the whole time.

“(Y/N) definitely hasn’t,” Robin mumbled. You threw an empty case at her which she easily dodged.

“Um, yeah, let me check the back. I think I did see some new titles.”

Steve wandered to the back, leaving you flustered in front of Eddie. He stared at his shoes and rocked back and forth, not really sure what to say to you.

“I think I’m gonna go help Steve,” Robin said before heading off. You tried to catch her attention and tell her no but she purposely didn’t look back at you.

She was the only one that knew about your crush on the metalhead, although she claimed it was obvious by the way you became a flustered mess any time he was around. Despite him being one of the kindest people you had ever met, you were always too scared to make a move. So that’s why you settled for less than mediocre dates with far less than mediocre guys.

“So, uh, any plans for the weekend?” You asked, trying to break the horrible tension.

“Just gonna hang out and watch some movies,” Eddie answered.

“Right, right. Of course,” you mumbled, mentally facepalming yourself.

“Why do you ask?” He asked.

“Just curious! I think I’m gonna go see what’s taking those two idiots so long.”

Before Eddie could say anything else, you booked it to the back. You crashed into Robin and Steve who were listening behind the curtain that closed off the back room from the counter.

“What the fuck is taking you guys so long?” You whispered.

“We we’re having too much fun listening to you crash and burn out there,” Steve snickered. “I’m sure if you asked him to hang out, he would say yes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You have Robin a death glare but she threw up her hands.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, it’s just really obvious,” Steve chuckled. “Here, bring him this.”

Steve shoved you back out there with the tape in your hands.

“Did they get lost or something?” Eddie asked with a small smile.

“Pretty hard to find things when they have their heads shoved up each other’s asses,” you said loud enough for them to hear.

Eddie let out a loud laugh and it made your heart jump up your throat. He looked down at the tape in your hand and reached for it.

“For me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You rang him out and handed him the tape. “I’ll see you around.”

“I’m counting on it,” he smiled.

—

“Why are the guys around here so boring?” You asked to no one in particular.

“I’m not boring!” Steve scoffed.

“Yeah okay,” you laughed. “What’s the most adventurous things you’ve done in bed?”

“Well…I… I’ve used a scarf?”

“A scarf?” You repeated.

“Were you cold?” Robin asked.

“No, I wasn’t cold! We used it as a blindfold,” he said sheepishly.

“I highly doubt you’ve blindfolded a girl,” you challenged.

“I never said she was the one blindfolded,” he said with a smirk.

“Harrington!” Robin gasped. Steve wiggled his eyebrows as you fake gagged.

“I can be a…what’s the new term kids are using these days…oh right, I can be daddy.” Steve tried to purr but failed miserably.

“You give off more of a mommy vibe,” you said. “You and your scarf of mystery.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly kinky, Steve. Grandparents are using blindfolds these days,” Robin added.

“Yeah, why do you think they like knitting so much?” The three of you jumped when you heard the voice interrupt. Eddie stood there with a very amused expression on his devilishly handsome face.

“That’s gross,” Steve scowled.

“Thought it was kinky?” You laughed. Steve rolled his eyes before turning back to Eddie.

“(Y/N), here, was just saying how all the guys around here are boring in bed. Care to weigh in?”

“Steve!” You smacked his arm. “That’s not exactly appropriate to ask a customer.”

“A customer? Ouch. And here I was thinking we were friends,” Eddie said, holding his hand to his chest.

“We are friends,” you mumbled, rather embarrassed.

“Good,” Eddie beamed. He slid his return across the desk. “And I can promise you that not all the guys in this town are boring.”

Eddie sent you a wink before heading back out the door. Your jaw dropped as his words spun in your head. Robin ever so gently closed your mouth for you.

“Didn’t want you to catch any flies,” she chuckled.

“I bet he’s never used a scarf,” Steve grumbled angrily. “Maybe I should take up knitting.”

—

The next time you saw Eddie was at a small get together that Steve and Robin threw together last minute. You weren’t expecting him to be there but he was a part of the group now so you didn’t know why you didn’t think of it.

You sat in the kitchen with Nancy and Robin, lamenting about your recent and pitiful sexual conquests.

“Two dates, two duds- I literally have the worst luck!” You sighed. “I mean, is it too much to ask for a guy to eat me out and spit in my mouth?”

Nancy’s eyes widened as she looked behind you. You froze in your spot, not wanting to turn around.

“H-hey, Eddie,” Robin tried to smile awkwardly. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath. Why was it always him?

“Hey, ladies,” he coughed. “Mind if I grab a drink?”

“Go for it,” Nancy said.

Eddie moved around you and reached across you to the drinks you were sat in front of. His eyes dropped down to your lips for a split second before moving back up to your eyes.

“Hi, (y/n),” he said loud enough for only you to hear. You swore you saw a smirk on his lips but your mind went into overdrive and you had to focus solely on breathing and not passing out.

“Earth to (y/n)? Can you move so we can grab a drink?” Dustin yelled from behind Eddie.

“I got it, man,” Eddie said, reaching across you again. His body was pressed to your side as he poured a couple drinks for his friends. His scent invaded your senses as you felt the heat from his body blanket your own. You didn’t realize your fluttered closed until he cleared his throat. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered.

“You sure? I could bring you home if you’re not feeling well,” he offered.

“No! I’m good, I swear.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled. He gave you one last look-over before he finally retreated to the other room and you thought Nancy and Robin were going to double over in laughter.

“You know…Eddie might just be the solution to your little problem. He’s probably a freak in more places than just the streets,” Robin said with a wink.

“You’re insane!”

“She’s right! He’s totally into you and everyone knows you’re head over heels for him-“

“What do you mean everyone knows?” You shrieked.

“I’m just saying, you don’t exactly hide it well,” Nancy said. You rolled your eyes at your ridiculous friends and went back to sipping your drink.

You couldn’t get the image of Eddie out of your head for the rest of the night. By the time you got home, you were a mess, and not the kind you wanted to be. You settled into your bed for a long night of frustrating attempts to seek a release, one that never came.

—

“It has to be me; I’m definitely broken. If I can’t even fuck myself how can I expect anyone else to?” You sighed to Robin on the other end of the phone.

“Sounds like there’s something blocking that part of your brain. It’s probably that fact that you’re lusting over a certain metalhead whom you refuse to make a move on,” she said. You groaned and threw yourself back on your bed.

“He doesn’t want me,” you told her.

“You never know until you ask.”

“Yeah well I’m never gonna ask so just drop it. Please?” You pleaded.

“…fine…I’m gonna bring a care package over to your place later and we can hang out and take your mind off of things, okay?” She said.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later.”

You hung up with your friend and stared at your ceiling. You needed to figure something out soon or you were going to combust.

Hours passed and you almost forgot Robin’s promise to stop over. You were in nothing but an oversized tshirt and your panties, not shy in front of your lifelong friend. When you heard the doorbell ring, you thought nothing of it as you bounded down the stairs toward the front door.

“Rob- oh my god!” You froze as you saw someone who was definitely not Robin Buckley standing outside your door. “Eddie?”

“Sorry…I thought Robin told you I was coming?”

You looked at the bag in his hands, filled with some of your favorite items, and everything started to click.

“I’m gonna kill her,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing! Thanks so much for bringing this for her, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”

You tried to grab the bag from his hand and close the door but his grip was tight and his stance unwavering.

“She also told me I have to stay here and make sure you relax sooo do you mind if I come in, sweetheart?” He asked, already pushing past you and into your house.

“Sure?”

“Folks aren’t home yet?” He asked, taking a look around. You stood dumbfounded in your doorway, his question snapping you back to reality.

“They’re out of town visiting friends for the week,” you answered. You closed the door behind you and went to grab the bag but he stopped you.

“Not so fast, beautiful. I need to quality check the items first.”

You didn’t think anything of it until Eddie started to pull out a wide array of items-

a box of your favorite candy, some lotion, a scarf. You were confused by the selection but nothing mortified you more than what Eddie pulled out next.

“Talk dirty to me, parts one and two,” Eddie said with a huge smile.

“Oh my god!” You snatched the pornos out of his hands and threw them back in the bag.

“Damn, when Robin said you needed to relax, I guess she wasn’t kidding,” he laughed.

“Okay, I’m thoroughly embarrassed and ready to crawl under a rock so you can go now,” you said, trying to pull him toward the door by his arm. He pulled you back flush against his chest.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. That’s no way to treat a house guest, now is it?” The deep rumble of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“N-no,” you whispered.

“No what?”

“No…sir?”

“Good girl,” he smiled. He backed you against the wall, your heart beating a mile a minute. “Do you want me to help you relax?”

“Yes, sir,” you said without even having to think.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said with a faint smile on your lips. You trusted Eddie more than you trusted most people and you knew he would take care of you.

He grabbed the bag and led you to your bedroom. You were nervous, not because it was Eddie, but because part of you really did believe you were broken and you didn’t want to be a disappointment to Eddie.

Eddie must’ve sensed your nerves because he turned to you and grabbed both your hands, looking you in the eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know? We can just hang out o-or I can just leave…”

“No! No, don’t go. I’m just in my head a little, that’s all,” you sighed. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

“I’ve got you; please don’t worry,” he said. You simply nodded before letting him grab the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head. His eyes scanned your bare torso with nothing but adoration in his eyes. He left your panties on as he laid you down on your bed. You heard the bag rustle and the scent of lavender soon filled your nose.

“Just try and relax, baby,” he said softly. He rubbed the lotion together in his hands to warm it up before gentle squeezing your shoulders and running his hands down your back. He worked your tense muscles under his calloused hands, making you melt almost instantly.

The lower his hands went, the tighter the coil went in your stomach, just begging for release. He worked on your thighs, squeezing your ass in the process. His hands lingered on your ass for a minute before they slid back up to your shoulders.

You wriggled your hips uncomfortably, preferring he would’ve shown your aching pussy some much needed attention.

Eddie got impatient with your moving so he straddled your waist and pinned your hips down with his.

“Just try and enjoy this, sweetheart,” he said.

“I’d enjoy something else a lot more,” you groaned. He hit a particularly tense spot and you moaned as he massaged the knot. You felt him shift, pressing more into your ass. You let breathy whimpers fall from your lips as he started to grind his hips against you.

“Eddie, please,” you whined.

“Please, what, baby? Ask daddy nicely,” he said. The way he said that with no shame, completely confident and in control, made your mouth go dry. He stopped the movement of his hips- “I won’t ask again.”

“P-please touch me, daddy,” you begged.

“I am touching you, love,” he chuckled.

“No, I want you to fuck me!”

He moved back and slapped your ass, making you yelp.

“Watch the attitude before I fuck it out of you,” he warned.

“If you can,” you mumbled under your breath. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back.

“What was that?” He growled in your ear.

“I don’t think you can fuck me that hard, daddy,” you challenged. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Of course you’re a fucking brat,” he laughed. “I should’ve guessed. Maybe that’s why no other little boys in this town could satisfy you. You needed a man to know how to handle you, baby. Is that it?”

His other hand snaked it’s way into your panties; he was delighted to find out just how wet you already were for him.

“Yes, please. I need you!”

“There’s your manners; what a good girl.”

“Mm, yes. I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl,” you mumbled incoherently as he started to rub slow circles on your clit.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a smug smirk.

You were trying to grind against his hand, trying to get more stimulation but he wasn’t having it. You were flipped onto your back and panties were ripped from your body, exposing your slick pussy to Eddie. He reached over to the bag and grabbed the scarf that you were suspecting Steve had something to do with.

“Since you have a problem with holding still-“ he grabbed your wrists and tied them with the scarf, putting them over your head. “Don’t. Move.”

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered.

Eddie crawled down so he was eye level with your pussy and it was hard not to move with anticipation. You needed him to touch you, to do anything, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to dive in and eat your pussy like a starving man.

“Eddie!” You shrieked. Your hands flew down to his hair and he immediately stopped.

“This is your one warning, babe,” he said as he threw your hands back up.

He turned his attention back to your clit, giving it kitten licks with his tongue. He would tease it at your entrance, only to return to your sensitive bundle of nerves. He was quickly bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, faster than you’ve ever gotten yourself there.

“Fuck, please. Please make me cum,” you whined. “Use your fingers.”

“You’re in no place to be making demands, princess,” he chuckled, his chin glistening. “The only thing going inside you tonight is my cock.”

His words alone were enough to build a fire in your stomach. He gripped your hips and pulled you flush with his face and you were certain he wasn’t even breathing. He ravaged his pussy with his tongue. Your head was swimming but you tried your best not to move, terrified he would stop and wouldn’t let you come. What a cruel punishment that would be- the only man to ever even bring you close to an orgasm only to take it away because you disobeyed.

The closer you came to the edge, the louder you chanted his name. He focused solely on your clit, providing enough pressure to finally push you over the edge. Your body convulsed as a powerful orgasm crashed over you. He didn’t let you go however, continuing to lap at your pussy as you came.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he crawled over your body and you expected him to kiss you but he didn’t. Instead, he tapped your jaw and said, “open.”

Your eyes widened more than your mouth when he spit directly onto your tongue. He didn’t even have to ask you to swallow, just smiled with pride as you did.

“Somebody listens,” you said with a smirk.

“Of course. How else am I gonna please my girl?” He asked. Your brain short circuited when he called you that but you played it cool.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you sighed happily.

“Did you think I was done with you yet? I told you, the only thing inside you tonight is gonna be my cock. So if it’s okay with you, I’d like to feel just how well you take my cock,” he said with a devilish grin.

“Do I get to lose the scarf?” You asked.

“Only because you were such a good girl for daddy.”

He untied you and threw it to the side of the bed. He finally took off his shirt and jeans, leaving him in his underwear. You could see the outline of his cock straining against the fabric and it made your mouth water.

You reached toward the hem of his underwear and he let you take them off. You ran your fingers along his length, as if memorizing every detail.

You leaned forward and he stopped you. Your heart nearly stopped, thinking you did something wrong.

“I just can’t wait to feel your pussy, baby. That’s all,” he reassured you.

“Please, daddy? I just wanna taste you.”

“Are you questioning me? You take what daddy gives you and then you thank him.”

He lined up with your entrance, gathering your slick on his head.

“Daddy thinks quite highly of himself,” you teased.

“God, maybe I should fuck your mouth just to shut you up,” he growled.

“You won’t,” you challenged further.

Without warning, he slammed balls deep into you.

“You’re right. I won’t. Greedy little sluts don’t get what they want. You’re gonna get used however I want. I’m gonna fuck your pussy until you can’t even think of walking. You’re gonna milk my cock until I fill you with my cum.”

You were left breathless at his relentless thrusts but still managed to croak out a moan when he said that.

“Oh you like that, dirty girl? Of course you do. Letting me fuck you raw. You’re gonna let me cum so deep inside you, yeah?” His head fell into the crook of your neck as you raked his back with your nails.

“Daddy, I’m so close. Can I cum? Please, daddy, let me cum,” you cried. Literal tears formed in your eyes as you felt the coil tighten in your stomach once more.

“Shit, what a good girl. Fuck, didn’t even have to tell you to ask permission,” he grunted. “Cum, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.”

The tears flowed freely as your vision went white and all you could hear was static for a second before returning to reality. Eddie fucked you through your orgasm- trying so hard to keep his rhythm while close to cumming himself.

“Ohh fuck!” A few more thrusts and he was emptying into you, spreading a warmth throughout your entire body.

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak out of you, down your shaking thighs, and onto your now ruined bed sheets.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked, wiping the tears from your face.

“Yeah, sorry. That was just…I’m speechless. Phenomenal doesn’t even begin to describe it,” you said.

“You mean it?” He asked. His overconfident facade melted away and it made your heart swell.

“Eddie, that was everything I could’ve asked for and more.” You placed a gentle hand on his face and he leaned into your touch.

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he chuckled.

“Did you want to?”

“I would like to kiss you every day if I got the chance,” he admitted.

“I think that could be arranged,” you said before pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“You’re gonna have to learn to obey your daddy then,” he told you.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you laughed.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. That just means I get to punish you and fuck you ten times harder.”

“That better be a promise, not a threat.”

“God, you’re perfect.” He kissed you again and pulled you on top of his chest. “Get plenty of rest, sweet girl. Tomorrow we’re having a whole date day to make up for this unceremonious rendezvous.”

“We can return the scarf to Steve,” you chuckled.

“And you can thank Robin for setting this up.”

“Yeah…I should thank her…right after I kill her for embarrassing me so much.”

“It worked out, didn’t it?” He retorted.

“I guess it did,” you said with a smile. “Now that I know you can make me cum, I’m never letting you go.”

“I’ll make you cum every goddamn day if it means I get to keep you.”

———————

Taglist: @mellomadness @munsaniac @thebookbakery @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @rafecameronswhore @dootys @tiredwritersworld @lily-sinclair-2006 @dylanobriens-love @moonbeampillgoth @lady-hellfire-1985 @lagataprrr @whore-of-many-hot-men @crimsonsabbath @moldy-khunt @wheaty-melon

Sorry if I missed anyone! I was trying to rush!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things 4

[minhosimthings]

Prideful

Synopsis: You never thought that Lee Heeseung, the man who had proven you wrong in the subject you were best at, would be fucking you on the classroom floor, but here you were.

Pairings: Heeseung × fem!reader, sort of enemies hate sex, includes Sunoo from Enha, and Soojin

Warnings: Smut with plot in the beginning, MINORS DNI, fluffy in the beginning, mention of food, degradation, praise, fingering, oral (f receiving), sex on the floor, unprotected sex (not for you bubs), rough sex, overstimulation, swearing, Heeseung calls reader princess and doll, open ending my babies have fun with that

A/N: idea came into my brain and I thought I'd forget about it and just added it to my wip list but then I was like NOPE IMMA WRITE THIS SHIT. So this makes my third smut for Heeseung (idk why I'm writing only smut for him) enjoy it y'all

Jane Austen once wrote an entire fanfic about enemies to lovers, slow burn, and she thought no one would notice. Well almost no one. Nothing ever gets out of the eyes and pens of literature majors does it? Especially not out of hardcore Jane Austen fans like yourself.

You must have analysed that godforsaken piece of literature atleast a thousand times since you recieved it as a gift for your birthday. And every single time, you failed to understand how such a love could be possible. I mean come on, a man and woman who hate each other, falling in love with each other? Either Jane Austen must have been a reincarnation of Aphrodite, or a madwoman who still kept faith in love.

Your heart nearly exploded when your professor had assigned a full fledged essay-presentation, costing half your grade on Pride and Prejudice. "Explore your opinion!" She had called out cheerfully, "Tell me what your heart truly feels about this beautiful piece and I'll give you a full half grade and no assignments for the rest of the semester." The class gasped in excitement at her words as you pretended to be interested. Internally, you were groaning. Wasting half of your night to make a presentation about a book you hold no love for? The universe really was against you. You picked your books up dejectedly and walked towards the entrance, shoulders hunched and music at a higher level of noise than it should have been at.

"Oh shit!" You cursed, dropping your books at the sudden interruption. A flurry of blue wool flooded in your face, as you leaned down quickly to pick up your fallen books and phone. "I'm so sorry." You apologised not looking up at whoever you crashed into. "It's alright." A voice responded back, and you looked up to see him. Lee Heeseung. You had seen him a few times in class, heard him actually. With his pristine glasses, and his woolen sweaters, he was the definition of a movie nerd. He was actually smart, you had to admit, always quick to respond to the questions that you had no idea about. Best in the class after you, according to your professor. Although his choice of literature slightly weirded you out. You often spotted him sprawled out under a tree, holding Pride and Prejudice to his nose, deeply engrossed in taking in each word.

"Is that The Neighborhood you're listening to?" Heeseung asked, as he handed you your phone, which he had picked up before you had the chance to. "Do you have an ear for them?" You asked, taking the phone from him. His hands felt soft, like the first snow when you were eight. Heeseung shook his and chuckled. "I'm more of a Arctic Monkeys person." You smiled awkwardly and shuffled your feet. "To each his own then."

"Macbeth." Heeseung said, before you could escape from the conversation. "I'm sorry?" You questioned, confused at his sudden outburst. "That line's from Macbeth." Heeseung sent another smile your way, pushing his glasses up from his nose, "Polonius says it, 'To each his own'." You felt a pang of jealousy hit your chest. You didn't know where that line was from. Of course, what normal person would know the origin of a common idiom?

"Cool." Your laugh was not without a tint of awkwardness. "Well-" Heeseung shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "Bye then." "Bye." You bid each other goodbye and rushed off in opposite directions, not wanting to be stuck in another neverending loop of conversation.

"Don't tell me you actually talked with The Lee Heeseung." Your roommate Soojin laughed, accidentally smearing some turquoise nail polish onto your thigh. You quickly wiped it off with a tissue before frowning at Soojin. "It's not a big deal." You scoffed, having another slice of pizza, "I mean he's just a guy. Kinda nerdy actually"

Soojin burst out laughing again, this time shutting her nail polish close. She gasped for air as she pulled out her phone and showed you a picture of a what looked like a frat party. "Girl-" she got up from her leaning position, "Nerdy is the worst way to describe Lee Heeseung. I'm telling you-" she picked up the last slice of pizza, "-he's the playboy representative of this college."

"Oh come on." You scoffed again, getting up to go to the bathroom, "Stop joking around." Soojin shrugged her shoulders as you disappeared into the bathroom. "Whatever you say."

The next day, you strolled into your favourite cafe with your laptop, headphones, a copy of Pride and Prejudice, money in your pocket, a sketchbook, and a positive mindset. Always need one to write an essay right? You were thankful that it wasn't raining today like it had been for the past few weeks.

The cafe was mostly empty, with a few medical students drinking coffee to their death, as they always did. You walked up to the counter, where you saw your friend Sunoo, working his shift.

"Y/N hey!" He flashed his bright smile at you, putting down the glass he had been cleaning. "Hey sun." You clapped back, leaning in front of the counter, "The usual please." Sunoo nodded his head and started to prepare your drink. "So I've heard something." He put on his mischievous smile, one that he often wore when he had gossip on his fingers. "Please tell me it's not about that girl from Chem again." You sighed, as he put a coffee cup down in front of you. "No it's about you dumbass." Sunoo scoffed, taking the money you handed him, "I heard you bumped into Lee Heeseung." You let out a groan at his words, and quickly grabbed your drink, going off to sit in the corner. "Yah take your change!" Sunoo shouted after you to which you shouted back, "Keep it! Your broke ass needs it anyway!"

You didn't get the chance to see Sunoo giving you the stink eye, as you plopped down on the comfortable couch and opened up your laptop. You had prepared a few opening lines the night before, since you had learnt that doing half of an assignment on the day of the announcement is better than starting the next day. Whoever wrote that theory needs to clarify it to you, but hey never pass up a good study tip right?

Immersed by the clacking of the keyboard keys and the pretty syllables decorating your page, you were completely absent from the world around you. Until, you heard a familiar voice, which broke you out of your hypoxia.

Heeseung.

What was he doing here?, You thought, not realising that you were basically staring at him. He was dressed in full black today, a leather jacket adorning his broad shoulders. A single earing dangled from his right ear. He still had his glasses on, which were fogged up completely, courtesy to the weather outside. Chatting away sonderly to Sunoo, as Sunoo prepared his drink in a way familiar to you, Heeseung caught your eye. He waved joyfully to you, akin to a child waving to their best friend. You waved back, not aware of the face you were currently making.

"Hey!" Heeseung said, sitting down in the chair next to you, with his drink in hand, "Working up on the Pride and Prejudice thing?" There were atleast a million other seats empty in the cafe. Why did he have to sit next to you? You didn't really realise how handsome he was, until he was sitting face to face with you. The mere sunlight coming in from the windows seemed to illuminate his face well. "Oh yeah I am." You replied, shooting him a smile, "Same thing?" You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going. Heeseung smiled jovially at you and propped his laptop open. "Yep." He replied and glued his eyes to the screen as you went back to your own work. "The Neighborhood again?" He raised an eyebrow, peeking at your open Spotify. You smiled gently and replied, "Arctic Monkeys?" As if ticking a correct answer, Heeseung laughed and showed you his phone where 'Arabella' was playing. A pretty album cover, you thought, subtle and sleek. "To each his own then?" Heeseung said. You nodded and smiled in response, before dropping your head back down to your laptop.

An hour must have passed like this, both of you hypnotised in writing and editing, and downing the refills of coffee Sunoo was providing you with. You stole tiny glances at Heeseung from time to time. Concentration was a good face on him, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands typing away furiously at the keyboard. He didn't talk to you at all, except for the initial hey and hello. But something about the way he spoke to you in the beginning, about the way he asked if you had a pen, and about the way he said 'Hey you have an eyelash on your nose' made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

Heeseung left before you did and before leaving he had extended a hand out to you. "May the best essay win." He spoke, shaking your hand and showing you his smile. God he never stopped smiling did he? His hand was soft, as was his grip on yours. It felt like how your father would hold your hand when you were little on the crosswalk.

"Girl just ask him out." Sunoo called after you as you were about to leave, "The tension between both of you back there was almost poetic." Even though you laughed at Sunoo's quip, and denied the offer, a part of your mind lingered on Sunoo's words and the way Heeseung spoke to you that afternoon.

The days leading upto the hour of the presentation went fast. Too fast almost. Your mind went over your short conversation with Heeseung atleast a million times, sometimes distracting you from typing. You didn't know where all the red bull cans littered across your room came from, but you remember where you threw every single one of them and why. The presentation was perfect. It must have been checked by your eyes atleast a hundred times. Finally, a time was coming when you would be able to express your true feeling about it. Despise and Trouble ran through your veins as you walked up to the board as your professor called on you to present. The class seemed to hold a tight breath to themselves. Everyone knew you, teacher's pet, best at English, known for using the most difficult metaphores in her essays yet having a straightforward point.

"Shall I begin?" You asked your professor who gave a curt nod and leaned back in her chair, an expectant smile plastered on her face. You returned the smile and turned to your classmates, who seemed most interested in your essay.

"Well to begin with, as one does-" humor was always the best way to start off speeches, which was shown by the subtle laughter of the students, "-I would like to say that Pride and Prejudice may be one of the most despised books I have sitting in my bookcase." You heard gasps around the room as everyone started murmerring. Your professor leaned forward in her chair, her mouth pressed tightly to form a thin line. That's good, you thought, a good way to break into their corneas.

"While most people would disagree with me upon this apparent piece of art, I truly believe that this sort of a romance is highly impossible. And no-dont tell me that this is fiction and in the fictious worlds you can quote unquote 'do whatever you want'." The audience held their breaths back as you continued with your rant. Your professor was watching it all with a smile on her face, knowing that she couldn't disagree with you. After all, you had to present your own opinions no matter how opposite they were to everyone else's.

"Well-" you professor stood up from her chair, as you finished your presentation. It had been a 25 minute rant about the book and by now everyone seemed to be meekly looking at their own essays. "That was brilliant Y/N. Truly brilliant." You professor clapped you on the back, "I must say, you have a flair for arguing in a way no one can find counter-attacks. I wonder why you did not choose law as your major?"

"Because there is another argument to be discussed here."

A cold voice rang through the room, as you were about to laugh at the professor's quip. You spun around on your shoes to face the culprit.

Lee Heeseung.

"Heeseung!" Your professor delightfully responded clapping her hands together, "Well why don't you tell us your opinion then? And we'll see if Y/N can fire back." She sat in her chair again, looking positively delighted at the forthcoming, "A battle of the best wits perhaps!"

Heeseung smiled widely and stepped forward to where you were sitting, plopping down on the opposite chair. Your professor had always kept two chairs facing each other in front of her class, for debates, her reason sounded. And now, as you sat in front of Heeseung and his stupidly handsome smirk, you swore you were going to bring him down.

"First of firsts-" Heeseung began, as everyone's attention caught on you. "-your opinion is speaking from a highly biased perspective." "How so?" You fired back, before he could even breathe, "I had already stated in the beginning, about how this cannot be on a biased perspective, since fiction based in actual words cannot be this animated." Heeseung smiled again, which threw you off track a bit. God he's handsome, you thought, too handsome....

"Of course but must I remind you, that this book was perhaps the first out of many to start with the trope of enemies to lovers?" Why were his eyes like galaxies?, "Jane Austen invented an entire trope, which still remains a genius scan of literature to this day. How could you say it's too animated?"

"Yes but-"

"Furthermore-" Heeseung continued, not giving you the chance to breathe, "inventing new tropes does not break this 'law of literature' as you say. Since there was no law of literature to begin with. So please Miss Y/N-" he leaned forward, looking at you with dangerous eyes, "-don't you dare say that Pride and Prejudice is a worthless piece of literature just because it does not have proof of poetry."

The class let out a breath as you sat frozen in your seat. Someone actually breaking your argument was a first for you.

God, his hair. His pretty curly hair.

You didn't realise how long you'd been staring at Heeseung with widened eyes until your professor clapped her hands together again.

"Well then!" She said cheerfully, effectively breaking you out of your stupor, "I believe this goes for grading both of you an A+. Half of your grade is filled you two! Congratulations!" The class broke out into applause as you thanked her and awkwardly shook hands with Heeseung as the bell rang loudly. "Well class I'll be seeing you next time!" Your professor announced, as everyone started filing out. "Oh Y/N, Heeseung a moment please?"

You stopped your feet from stepping out the door and immediately spun around, marching off towards your professor, seeing Heeseung doing the same. "Yes Professor Kim?" Heeseung responded with those stupid puppy eyes of his before you could. Professor Kim smiled gently at both of you, before pulling out her tablet.

"I need a bit of help from both of you. It'll be sort of a favour to you too." She handed you the tablet, which had a sort of letter open on it. Heeseung leaned from behind you, and put his chin on your shoulder, making your stomach feel clammy. He smelled good too, you thought, like fresh paper.

"An event is being hosted by our Dean for all majors." Professor Kim smiled, "Sort of a career booster you could say. We were instructed to pick two students from our classes to have the assignment of checking essays, and documentations and whatnot pertaining to their majors."

"And you chose to pick us Ma'am? I'm flattered." Heeseung chuckled, as Professor Kim laughed to his quip. "Well you two are my best students." She drawled, "So the assignment I'm giving you is-" she pulled out a huge stack of papers from beneath her desk. It shocked you how quickly they appeared out of nowhere, like magic. "-these are all essays collected by last year's class. I want you to go through them, give them a good critic, and grade them according to you. You will personally grade each one, taking each other's help of course,since it's a group project. And it will lend you a helping hand since you'll be getting a certificate which you can use to get into any company you'd like!"

You and Heeseung glanced at each other and we're relieved to see the same excited expression face back at them. This was a rare opportunity, a diamond of the first water you'd say. And you had to grab it, even If that meant it was with a person you despised with your entire being.

"I'll do it Professor!" You replied positively to which Heeseung also nodded frantically as if to say the same thing. "Great!" Professor Kim clapped her hands together again, "Oh and one rule is you two have to work together in this classroom. Since the Dean wants to provide you with an opportunity to see how workplace relationships doon out."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard her words. You, working with Heeseung in an empty classroom? You would rather have praised Pride and Prejudice.

"Here, the keys." Professor Kim handed you and Heeseung a pair of keys, "You can work in the evening if you want. But make sure to complete it as soon as you can alright? Oh and you can skip classes if you want to do this first, since the Dean is prioritising this before anything else." You nodded in response to her instructions and bowed her goodbye as you and Heeseung walked out.

"So-" Heeseung stuffed his hands in his pockets, "You wanna work on this shit tonight?" "Unless you have any other appointments, sure we can work on it tonight." You responded, coldly, not looking at him in the eye. "Alright then." Heeseung scoffed, "Meet you here at 8?" "Alright." The end of your conversation came a little too fast, you thought, but you couldn't stand looking into his pretty little eyes and talking to him, as if he didn't just embarrass you infront of your entire class a few minutes ago. "Y/N wait!" Heeseung called, running up to you, as you were about to exit the building. "What?" You spun around to face him. "Shouldn't we exchange numbers first?" Heeseung handed you his phone, which had his contact list open. "Why? So you can take me out on a date later?" You shot at him. A smirk tugged on the corner of Heeseung lips, but he resisted, not wanting to anger you more. You looked cute when you were angry in his opinion. "No. Maybe incase you were murdered by someone on the way here, I can call you and scold you on why tardiness is a childish thing to do." Heeseung joked. You smiled sarcastically at him as you handed him his phone back, having typed in your number. "Eight o'clock princess don't you forget now."

Tick tock tick. The clock's quiet sons echoed through the empty class. 'Don't forget.' you scoffed, 'And he's the one who's late.' The time on your watch sounded 8:30 and yet Heeseung wasn't here. You had given up waiting for him, and started on the assignment yourself, already finishing two of the army of papers. You were a hard critic, and it clearly showed in the way you were seeping your eyes through the ink.

"Soojin he's late! I can't come back now!" Your roommate had called you, in the midst of your third paper, complaining about a cockroach in the room. "Just call your boyfriend, and don't be such a pussy it won't hurt you." You scoffed at Soojin, whose scared whimpers were heard clearly through the phone.

"How's the checking going?" Soojin asked, having seemingly calmed down. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, wincing at the crack of your backbone. Your back must have become stiff from the amount of time you had been sitting in that chair. You felt pity for your professors for the first time, having finally been in their shoes.

"Heeseung's not here yet and I'm literally so fed up right now." You complained to Soojin, "That handsome bastard told me not to be late, and now look where I am! Asshole seriously." "He'll turn up, cool down Y/N." Soojin soothed you. You heard a sound of crashing in the background and stifled a laugh, assuming that Soojin must have miraculously jumped from one bed to the other. "I told you he's a playboy." Soojin panted through the phone, "Maybe he's busy fucking some poor girl in his frat house." You rolled your eyes at her statement.

"Please." You scoffed, "He couldn't fuck a girl if he wanted to, with the tiny ass cock he has." Soojin let out a raucous laugh from the other side of the phone. "How the fuck do you know he has a tiny cock?" She chuckled. "Intuition baby." You responded, "And my intuition is never wrong."

"Like how it was on the day of our debate?"

A familiar voice again. But this time, the warmth in it wasn't present. You whipped your head around to the door, where Heeseung stood, leaning against the door and smirking. "Soojin I'll call you back." You cut the call, before Soojin could respond.

"Hey." You called out to Heeseung. "Hey." Heeseung shot back, sitting down on the chair in front of you, spreading his legs wide. An involuntary gulp went through your throat. "What were you saying princess?" He leaned forward, his shirt dropping down slightly, "I have a tiny what now?" The dim lighting of the room, made his eyes look dark, and the leather of his black jacket, gleam more. "I- I wasn't saying anything Heeseung." You responded, turning your chair back to the desk, warmth coming up on your cheeks. Heeseung cocked his head to the side and smirked at your flustered state.

"Really princess?" He smirked, edging closer to you. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils again. His glasses dropped on his nose, and he hadn't even bother to push them back up. "Heeseung just get to work." You sternly responded, trying to keep your cool. How could you though? When he was so close to you, lips almost touching your ear. "For you information-" Heeseung spoke, turning your attention away from the paper you were working on, "-I had a friend who needed a lift to his dorm, so I ran a little late. But you couldn't wait for me could you princess?" He smirked, laying his hand on top of yours, "Just couldn't wait to critique all those papers like the good girl you are." "He-Heeseung." "Shh don't." Heeseung shushed you, "You want to see how tiny of a cock I really have then hmm?"

"Heeseung we shouldn't." You hesitated, feeling your legs warm up. "No one's gonna know, as long as you don't make a noise alright?" He kissed your neck gently, turning your figure to his, still sitting in the chair. "Oh princess, already wet for me?" He chuckled, toying with the button of your shirt. "Heeseung-" you moaned out, quickly unbuttoning your shirt, as Heeseung took off his jacket and threw it on the desk. You pulled back slightly as your mind came to its proper senses. "Where are you going doll?" Heeseung questioned, hands resting on your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, "Don't worry princess, no one's gonna know."

Heeseung brings his lips down to yours in an instant, wasting no time. You gasp at his sudden actions and he takes advantage of that by entering his tongue into your mouth. You grab at his shoulders while he cups your jaw with both of his hands. Your hands reach his hair, softly tugging at the root and you hear him whine. Heeseung sucks on your bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling it back to look at you. You look up at him and he takes your face in his hands.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” Heeseung asks in a teasing tone as he looks down at you. You could feel the throb in his pants press against your legs as you whimper. “Hee please.” You whine, squirming as he places a kiss between your breasts. Heeseung runs his hands up and down the sides of your body. If he was going to fuck you on the classroom floor right there and then, you were going to let him.

“Oh, you're feeling extra polite today huh? Please, Heeseung.” Heeseung mocks you with a tiny laugh. You groan in embarrassment and hide your face with your hands. Heeseung just lets out another laugh and wraps his hands around your wrists, prying them away from your face. He transfers both of your wrists to one hand, holding them over your head as he uses his other hand to trail his fingers down your body.

“Don’t hide your pretty face now, princess.” Heeseung says nonchalantly as he dips a hand inside your leggings and panties to feel your dripping cunt. His glasses were beginning to fog up slightly as he whipped them off of his face, setting them down on the desk. You clench around nothing when you feel his middle finger dip into your wetness and bring it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. You moan softly as Heeseung teases your clit, never taking his eyes off of your face.

Heeseung begins to rub your clit faster, and you buck your hips up into his fingers. You hear him laugh at your eagerness and he presses soft kisses into your neck. Heeseung takes his fingers off of your clit and he snaps the waistband of your trousers against your pelvis.

“Dirty girl. Never thought you'd be like this.” Heeseung says with a smirk and you dumbly nod your head. The sounds of your heavy breathing and your pussy squelching around his fingers make your legs begin to shake.

Heeseung spits on your cunt to lubricate it even more, and that's what makes you come undone. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, sucking them in as he fingers you through your orgasm.

Heeseung takes his time kissing down your body, letting your need and desperation build by the second. He tugs one nipple and then the other into his mouth, suckling at the perky nubs and massaging your areola between his lips. Your hips are trembling with anticipation, the space between your legs aching to feel Heeseung's kiss.

Stars hover over you, or at least, that’s how it feels. Your eyes are closed, awareness cut off to the world around you except the place Heeseung's face is buried. He devours your cunt like a man starved, swallowing you whole. Heeseung doesn’t come up for air; he doesn’t need to, because all he breathes is you. Your back is arched and arms stretched forward, fingers clutching Heeseung’s hair in fistfuls.

Your thighs are shaking, reflexively clamping around Heeseung's’s face. He keeps forcing them open, demanding full access to your cunt, even as you buck and claw and convulse. Your mouth hangs open in a stupor; a thin line of drool trickles down your cheek and connects to the cold floor beneath you.

Heeseung laps at your slit like he’s never tasted you before, like he never will again. His tongue pads between your lips, upward strokes that end with the tip of his tongue flicking your clit with a firm intensity that has you reeling. Tugging at his hair, trying not to scream his name incoherently, you ride out the longest orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears burn the corners of your eyes, stars bursting in the black sky of your vision. Heeseung doesn’t stop licking your cunt till you release his hair.

“M’gonna fuck you now, okay?” Heeseung says sweetly and you nod your head. He runs his hard cock through your folds, and he catches your clit, making you jerk a little. Heeseung slowly begins to push himself into you and you throw your head back against the hard material of the desk.

“Fuck, knew you’d be tight when I felt you around my fingers.” Heeseung grits out, and he continues to push himself into you until he bottoms out. He starts to move at a slow pace, and he whines when you beg him to move faster. “Fucking whore. Bet you think about me fucking you in class don't you?” Heeseung spits out as he pushes himself harder and deeper into your sloppy cunt. You moan at his words, and you try to reply but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You cry out, and you clench around Heeseung's fat cock.

“ Cum for me princess.” Heeseung. moans out, fucking into you so deep, a ring of your cum and his has formed at the base of his cock. You run your fingers through his hair, harshly tugging on it as you come undone at his expense. Heeseung buries his face into your neck as he cums, sucking at your pulse point. You feel his cum shoot into you and it only prolongs your own orgasm.

After a couple minutes of you two catching your breath, Heeseung takes his face out of your neck and plops down in the chair, pulling you onto his lap. You sit there, dazed for a few seconds, burrowing your head in his chest, his heartbeat reminding you where you were.

"Well that was a whirlwind of emotions." He says at last, when you start to stir from your hypnosis, "You good doll?" You nod slightly and feel Heeseung's arms wrap around you, putting you safely down on the chair, as he put his clothes back on, slowly picking up yours as well.

"Heeseung the assignments." You panic, as he puts your shirt back on you. "It's alright princess." He coos at you, wrapping an arm around your waist, "We can do that in the morning. Let's get you home." He guides you slowly out the door. "So-" he smirks, locking the classroom with his key "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

#heeseung #lee Heeseung #Enhypen #enha #heeseung smut #Heeseung smut imagines #heeseung oneshot #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung fluff #heeseung enemies to lovers #enhypen smut fic #enha smut imagines #heeseung × reader #heeseung × y/n #heeseung fic #Heeseung smut fic #smut oneshot #enhypen oneshots #college au enhypen #bye bye now

[theladyismyshepard]

My Lady In Death

My interest has shifted towards Baldur's Gate 3 and call me obsessed, almost as much as I was for RE:V... This is my headcannons for the main ladies of the party... careful, it's a long post

How the Ladies Would React to Your (Tav's) Death

Shadowheart –

It’s funny… it’s so funny… There was a battlefield roaring its rage to the Heavens in the sky. A melodic thrum of agony and death and yet there was a single sound that rose above all else: the sound of your body crashing to the ground, a loud grunt forced out from between your lips.

The strong “Ignis!” caught itself in Shadowheart’s throat, subconsciously forfeiting her turn as she stared wide-eyed at your fallen form. Her lips were moving, yet no sound was escaping. No spell, no incantation, no anything– She was so frozen in disbelief, one could mistake her for being under a stunned or immobilizing spell. All she could do was watch your shaky movements as you attempted to hoist yourself to your feet, only to receive a final concussive blow that left trails of blood leaking from your nose, mouth, and eyes

“NO!” The scream was so raw that almost everyone in the party felt the shredding of their own throats

Karlach reached forward to intercept the cleric just as she showed the first signs of darting thoughtlessly across the battlefield towards your dead body, but when Shadowheart showed an ounce of determination, she proved unstoppable. She sidestepped Karlach’s hand, ignored the resulting string of curses from Lae’zel, and darted towards you. Not only did she have faith in her teammates (well, Karlach) to guard her back, she had faith that Shar would guide her forward.

Which raised a few questions: Why was Shadowheart fearing this loss in a way she never felt before? Why was she so desperate to counter the inevitable? Why couldn’t she let Shar take you away? Shadowheart swallowed thickly as she dropped to her knees beside you, pulling your head into her lap. Her trembling fingers reached into her travel pack and she didn’t stop fumbling around until she produced a Scroll of Revivify. She untied the knot keeping it together, and rested the parchment atop your chest.

Her voice shook the entire time she spoke through the words of the scroll. Her eyes were blurred so thickly with tears that the obscured spell was nearly illegible to her. Shadowheart’s left hand was tangling its fingers in your hair, an absent gesture of comfort more for herself rather than you at the moment. She was aware of the sudden company of defense that swarmed and encircled the two of you, but she couldn’t afford to pay them any mind, not when you were growing colder by the second and Shar’s grip of darkness was taking its hold on you.

There was a glow surrounding your body for a moment, and when it finally dimmed, the scroll burned itself to a crisp and faded away on a gust of wind. There was a pause that had Shadowheart’s heart stuttering against her ribcage and then you were taking in a large breath of air, and it looked so natural, as if you had never stopped. Shadowheart released a breath of her own and it nearly had her bowing over, her tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

You were here, you were alive, you were going to be okay… She indulged herself in stealing a single kiss atop your brow, her left hand gently scratching your scalp before she pulled back abruptly.

Shadowheart… turned her back on her lady. All color drained from her face, all relief she had been relishing in dried up, all fear she had dislodged back anew, but directed for herself now– As Shar’s servant, she must accept darkness, accept loss almost to the point of wishing for it. You were well within Shar’s merciful grasp

And Shadowheart stole you back… It’s only natural to struggle with your religious guilt after saving the one you care so much for. Give her time to process this.

Lae'zel –

Disbelief. That is the only emotion Lae’zel found herself able to process for an entire minute; Disbelief that your body was crumpled and shredded down in the dirt; Disbelief that this unorthodox hero that was supposedly “meant to save the world” had fallen so easily… Disbelief that she allowed your death to happen.

Next was the fury that almost visibly burned in licking flames. Death would not take you, not if she had anything to say about it. Not when she was standing right there and these fiendish goblins had the audacity to strip your life from your body before her very eyes. No… Lae’zel was fury, she was death, and she would avenge you before she would think to resurrect you.

That half-elf, she had powers of healing and while Lae’zel loathed Shadowheart on a good day, she knew the cleric to have enough wits to know to respond to their fallen hero with haste (lest she meet her own untimely end at the edge of her blade). The fight was a blur, and it was over before any of the other party members could land another hit.

Lae’zel was a flurry of strikes, one after the other, each enemy dropping with a thud before they could so much as raise a shield in defense. Her blade cut through their armor, and with each slice, she couldn’t help but to associate it with the final blow that cut you down. Each wet shluk as her sword went through reminded her of the very sound of your own flesh giving way to iron. She didn’t even feel the blood washing over her enough to get to relish in the victory– this was no victory.

“They’re all gone, soldier,” came Karlach’s small, but steady voice, though Lae’zel still felt rage, she couldn’t shake it…

It was a familiar feeling her people associated with, almost like lifelong friends, but this was driven by a loss that she had yet to experience, and she was damn near close to cursing the Comet himself for allowing such a person like yourself to come into her life and just… change her very being… or at least her standards. But she was cursing you.

Cursing you for coming into her life, showing her tolerance, showing her affection, showing her love… and then just as you had gotten her to fall, you fell at her feet in a pool of your own blood. Lae’zel’s grip around her silver sword tightened, her form trembling in a mix of rage, sorrow, and hatred. Hatred at those who killed you, hatred for you for how easily you went down, but mostly, hatred for herself for not throwing her own body on the blade before it could ever reach your perfect skin.

“Lae’zel… love,” 

The sword dropped as did her mouth. Right… You were intelligent enough to stock up on Scrolls of Revivify when the party was last in Baldur’s Gate. Lae’zel pulled herself together, grabbed her sword, and regained her signature scowl.

“I suggest we keep moving forward unless anyone is seriously injured… then we head for camp and rest… no matter, Tav, I need you in my sight at all times,” You couldn’t help the smile when she took your hand in her own, checked you over once for any lingering injuries, and pressed on before anyone could even answer her question.

Karlach –

Gravity was betraying Karlach on this particular day in so many ways. The way her stomach was dropping to her feet had her fighting back the urge to puke. The lightness of her soul wanting to leave behind the overheating engine that kept her in place. It was all so disorienting, but most of all was the gravity that dragged your body down into the abyss, completely disappearing from sight.

“NOOO!” she bellowed, fire engulfing her body, threatening all who were foolish enough to draw close.

“Karlach! It’s okay!” insisted Shadowheart urgently, “Their soul, look!”

Karlach always knew your soul would have a calming aura about it. The tiny, cool, blue ball of light was beckoning the fiery red that was Karlach’s being. There was still a stray archer somewhere out of sight, but that was of no concern to her. She needed to get to you, to protect you… She had to nourish your soul, feed it life from one of the scrolls that had to have been crafted from the very Gods themselves

You two still had so much left to explore together… The party had just encountered Dammon and had supplied enough infernal iron to ensure an upgrade to Karlach’s engine. Boy did you two celebrate that night after she received her first real hug in a decade. It was all fire and all passion, and that was everything that Karlach needed in life. You were everything she needed.

So forgive her if she refused to give you up so easily after finally, finally receiving the happiness she was denied for so long. She’s done her waiting… Ten years of it! In Avernus… You didn’t give up on her, not when a misguided Wyll had sent you on a path to kill her, and not when you found out she was a ticking time bomb waiting to blow. She would fight through all Nine Realms of the Hells to do the same for you.

Karlach reached the floating orb that was your soul, forced herself to relax enough to extinguish her own flames, and cradled it in her palms as if it was the grandest treasure in the world… to Karlach, it was the world. She had the world in the palm of her hands and she couldn’t help but burst into tears. You were too good to have had any hiccup in your heartbeat, to have been taken so early that Karlach had to bend the very will of fate to bring you back.

“Call me selfish, I don’t give a shit,” Karlach muttered to anyone who was listening. No one would dare to argue her in such a state as this

Gently repositioning your soul into one palm, Karlach reached into her pocket and withdrew a Scroll of Revivify. She swaddled the orb in the scroll, as if tucking it into a warm blanket on a cold night before bringing the entirety of it to her lips and whispering the incantation as if it were a prayer. Your body materialized before the party’s very eyes and you soon found yourself pulled into Karlach’s crushing embrace before she apologized and supplied a Potion of Supreme Healing.

“Try to stay on firm ground from now on, eh?”

Minthara –

Oh Gods, oh Hells, oh shit… May the Gods grant mercy on the soul that decides to cleave your soul from your body, leaving you a mangled mess of what Minthara had come to claim as hers. She was not finished with you and the rush of high you brought with, and she would part the Heavens or douse the Hells to rip you back into her life, and she was about to demonstrate such at this very moment.

Gortash was a formidable foe, he was Chosen for a reason… and that was because Minthara thought herself too good to be a God’s plaything. Second best must answer to her scorn and no longer will anyone question that the wrath of Minthara could shake even the Gods.

The entire scene shifted, and no more were Gortash’s semi-invisible minions, or his tangible, looming fist. He was on his knees, a quivering mess as he gazed into Minthara’s eyes and saw nothing but his own pitiful reflection.

At last, there was a change in her features as a cruel grin slowly twisted the edges of her lips. She would draw this out and savor every last scream he had to offer. It was one thing to threaten the safety of the entire world, but to outright target and end your life, with Minthara standing there no less… it was a direct insult and a loss that she couldn’t even really bring herself to feel.

Minthara is calculating, and while she refuses to ever witness your soul leave your body again, she also knew that she was resourceful if not intimidating. There were ways of bringing you back to life, and every option was at her fingertips, it was just a matter of who or what she wanted to exploit.

After driving a dagger straight through Grotash’s eye and into his skull, Minthara hardly even basked in the quivering of his pained body as he dropped and convulsed in a pool of his own blood. No, she was too busy turning towards Shadowheart and barking orders.

“You! Call upon your deity and demand them to revive your allies with half their health. I’m aware that you are granted this wish only once, and I have yet to have seen you use it.” It was done with only a minimal amount of glaring, and suddenly you were stiffly rising to your feet with a groan.

“You were careless with your life, and I am severely unappreciative of that… You would do best to not piss me off as such again, okay?”

You were nodding along without a word, but you couldn't help the flutter of your newly restarted heart when Minthara carefully put her arm around your shoulder as a means to both guide and protect you from what more is to come.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate headcannons #shadowheart #lae'zel #karlach #minthara #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 karlach #bg3 minthara #bg3 headcanons #shadowheart x reader #lae'zel x reader #karlach x reader #minthara x reader #shadowheart x tav #lae'zel x tav #karlach x tav #minthara x tav #bg3 companions #bg3 companions headcannons #bg3 #baldurs gays #bg3 prompts #ao3 stuff #ao3 tags #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

[girlgenius1111]

always enough for us

barca femeni x reader

r gets kicked out of her house. her teammates find out. protective barca at it's finest.

cw- bad parents... referenced homophobia?

Your back hurt. Really, this was the least of your problems. A few days ago, your parents had kicked you out. It didn't really come as a surprise to you; they'd never been very good parents, and you knew it was just a matter of time before they found out about... you, and decided they were done. You'd been crashing at your friend Sofia's house since then, on the couch. You couldn't complain, considering how kind it was of your friend to let you stay with her, but the couch was killing your back. This is what you forced yourself to think about as you climbed out of her car at the training grounds, instead of, well, any other part of the situation.

You were fine. You didn't need your parents, not at all. You didn't need their help, their house, their love, any of it. You had just turned 18, and you were sure you'd be able to find an apartment soon considering your salary at Barca. Everything was fine.

Of course, you forgot to factor in your nosy, nosy teammates. And how bad of a liar you were. Combined, your secret was out before you wanted it to be, which was never.

-----

You were walking quickly from Sofia's car, hoping that you'd arrived early enough that no one was there to see you get dropped off, instead of driving your own car. It wasn't really your car, it was your parents, and while they had let you take a lot of your stuff, the car was not one of them. You thought you were safe, seeing no one ahead of you, when you heard your name being called from behind you, a distinct British accent ringing across the parking lot.

"Y/n!!!!! Wait!!!" Lucy called dramatically. Rolling your eyes, you turned around, motioning for her to hurry up. She arrived by your side, falling in to step next to you.

"Who was that dropping you off? What happened to your car?"

"Oh. That was my friend, Sofia. I... we... my car is.... broken. It's broken and it's getting fixed. So Sofia drove me. Because my car is broken," you stuttered out, honestly surprising even yourself with how bad of a lie you'd just told considering you'd been practicing the lie all week.

"Your car is... broken?" Lucy asked, shooting you a weird look.

"Yeah, the engine or something," you say, trying to act casually.

"Why aren't your parents driving you?"

"They have work."

Lucy is quiet for a moment, before she stops you in the hallway, turning to face you. "Is something going on? You're being weird."

"Weirder than normal?" you try to joke.

"Y/n." Lucy says. She was so rarely serious off the pitch, it was kind of intimidating.

"Nothing is going on."

"You are really one of the worst liars I've ever met. Your whole face is red right now, do you know that?" Lucy asks, not a hint of humor in her voice. Instead, her eyes are squinting at you inquisitively, and you feel like they're burning right through you.

"I'm not lying!" You protest, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.

"It just got redder. Tell me what's going on."

"No." Lying wasn't working, but you were stubborn, and you're sure you could out-stubborn Lucy.

"Fine. I'll go ask Mapi if she knows what's up with you. Or Irene. Or Alexia," she threatens. You hadn't expected her to go there so soon.

"No, Lucy, please don't," you beg, reaching out to catch her wrist as she begins to walk away.

"Then tell me what's happening. Did you crash your car?"

"No I- I didn't crash my car, Lucia, seriously." Lucy smirks, crossing her arms though, ensuring that she's standing between you and any viable exit from the conversation. You take a breath. "I'm just staying with Sofia for a bit. It's not a big deal."

Lucy's smirk is gone. "Why? Did something happen with your parents?" Your poor relationship with them wasn't really a secret to anyone on the team. They hardly went to any games before they'd kicked you out. Your older teammates silently disapproved of them, you knew, but they were careful never to say anything in front of you.

"I told you what was going on. Can I go now?" You ask, ignoring Lucy's questions.

"Hey, wait," she tries, but you slip past her, walking down the hall towards the locker room.

"I wouldn't tell mention this to anyone, if I were you. Otherwise word might get out about what you and Ona were doing in the showers last week," you tease, enjoying the way Lucy's face heats up at your words. You're pretty confident she won't risk getting ratted out just to get to the bottom of what's going on with you.

Apparently, you underestimate how much Lucy cares about you.

-----

You've managed to take your mind off things during practice, and you completely miss Lucy quietly talking to Alexia during a water break. You also miss Alexia talking to Irene and Mapi during the next water break. You take your time showering and changing, knowing that the fewer people around when you leave, the fewer people to realize you're walking, and in the complete opposite direction of your house. You don't really think about your conversation with Lucy again until you're on your way out of the locker room, and Alexia calls you to stay back. You're one of the last ones in the room as it is, and you turn slowly, eyes finding Lucy's. You glare at her, and she shrugs, patting you on the shoulder before leaving the locker room. You turn, finding Alexia, Irene, and Mapi all sat on a bench, looking at you.

"Yes?" You say.

"Is there something you need to tell us?" Alexia asks firmly. She's not fucking around, you can tell, nor is Irene. And, a rare occurrence, neither is Mapi. You look to her, hoping she'll crack a joke or something and ease the tension in the room, but she's staring at you with a matching searching gaze.

"You all had a great practice!" You try, shooting Alexia a smile. It falls off your face when she only raises an eyebrow at you.

"Want to try that again?"

"Alright, Mapi's penalties could use some work." Mapi frowns, but Alexia ignores your comment.

"Y/n."

"Alexia," you say, trying your best to look like nothing was going on, like nothing was bothering you. Like the longer you stood in front of them, it wasn't getting harder to collapse into the fits of sobs you'd been fighting for a week.

"Enough, y/n. Talk." Alexia replies. Mapi and Irene are fighting smiles now. Watching you and Alexia go back and forth was always entertaining; a real battle of wills.

"I'm staying with one of my friends. I'm assuming that's what Lucy told you."

All three of them were surprised when you give up so easily. It only worried them more, the way your eyes fall to stare at your shoes, and the way you clasp your hands together, trying to hide how they're shaking.

"Why?" Alexia asks. Her voice is softer now, more gentle, but still, she leaves no option for you to refuse to answer. You can tell, by a quick glance to her face, that she's losing patience. You're scared, suddenly, that they'll give up. On you. They'll stop caring, because you try so hard not to let them. This is what prompts you to be honest, really. The fear of no one, no one at all, caring for you anymore.

"My parents kicked me out." Your voice is just more than a whisper. The older girls' faces fall instantly. They feared this, when Lucy told them about your conversation, but they hoped they were wrong, that it wasn't this.

"What happened with them?" Irene asks, almost like she can't help herself. You're sure she's thinking of her son, of how she couldn't imagine doing that to him.

"I don't really want to talk about it." You say. Mapi opens her mouth, surely to push you further, but to your surprise, Alexia lays a hand on her arm, cutting her off. Your captain looks at you for a minute, eyes searching yours, before she speaks.

"Okay. You're gonna stay with me. I have an extra bedroom, and Mapi and Ingrid live almost right next door. We can go get your stuff from your friends now."

"No, Ale. No. I'm fine at Sofia's, really."

"Well I'm not fine with you there. You're a kid, you need adult supervision. Besides, it makes more sense. I can drive you to practice and everything. And make sure you're taking care of yourself."

"Alexia. No."

"Y/n. Yes. This isn't up for discussion," Alexia has raised her voice, just a little, and you take a step back. Alexia notices, because of course she does, and she calms herself down instantly, whole face softening. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but this is what we're doing. Please, just trust me, y/n? If you hate living with me, we can figure something else out, but just give it a shot, okay?"

You almost laugh, because really, Alexia thinks that the problem is that you don't want to live with her. That couldn't be further from the truth- you would like to, deep down you admit it. It would be easier. It would make you feel safe. You just can't impose like that, can't do that to Alexia. She'd get tired of you, eventually, just like your parents had. You didn't want that.

You take too long thinking all of this, apparently, because soon she's ushering you out of the room and towards her car. Her and Irene walk ahead, quietly discussing what you can only assume to be how much they hate your parents. Mapi hangs back, walking with you.

"You know that Alexia wouldn't offer if she didn't really want you there, right?" The defender says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You look at her in surprise, not expecting her to understand your reasoning when no one else did. She just gives you a wry smile, waiting for you to answer.

"Why would she want me there, Mapi? You ask. Mapi frowns.

"Because you're you. And we all love you. Alexia especially, I think you're her favorite. But seriously, y/n, any of us would take you in without a second thought." Mapi says it so matter of factly, you're thrown for a loop. It didn't make sense, really. That these people, your teammates, who owed you nothing, were willing to drop everything for you, when your parents... well.

You aren't really sure what to respond to her, and you don't have to, because Alexia is gesturing you towards her car, and Irene is pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to come over any time. You return the hug, hearing the echo of Mapi's words in your ears. Maybe she was right.

-----

Sofia had been surprised to see you packing, but she understood. You're sure she's relieved to have you out of her hair, even if she doesn't say it. The tight hug she gives you tells a different story, and you could swear there are tears in her eyes as you walk out of the building. Once again, you're left completely speechless at the care your friends are showing you.

It's not too late by the time you arrive back at Alexia's, all the stuff you brought from your parents, and then from Sofia's, in tow, but you feel an interrogation coming on from Alexia, so you slip off to shower, needing a few minutes to yourself to process the day. By the time your done, you've cried a fair amount in the shower, and you're sure your eyes are red and puffy.

Still, when you appear in the living room, quietly taking a seat on the couch, a safe distance away from where Alexia sits, scrolling through her phone, you promise yourself that you won't cry again. Not in front of Alexia. She looks up when you enter, brows immediately furrowing at the sight of your tearstained cheeks, and you pretend you don't know what she's looking at.

"How are you feeling?" she asks kindly, after giving you a minute to start the conversation, if you felt like it.

"Fine." you say shortly. Alexia doesn't say anything. After 2 full minutes of silence, you realize she's trying to make you so uncomfortable that you talk, knowing you hate awkwardness.You wish she didn't know you so well, as you open your mouth to finally let it all out, but a part of you feels so loved, so cared for, by it.

"My parents are... my parents. I shouldn't have expected anything different from them, when they found out."

"Found out what?" Alexia asks casually.

You take a big breath. No one on the team knows. Really, only Sofia and a few other people know. You want to tell, you want to be open about it. You wish it was as easy as just doing something you want to. You know, realistically that the team won't care, that Alexia won't care. Still, you can't seem to forget your parent's reactions, and you feel your heart clench with fear.

"I'm... um... They caught me, kissing a girl. I'm gay." You say, eyes blurring with tears as you stare at the table in front of you. Your throat burns with the effort of keeping your sobs in, but you can't cry. Not when Alexia hasn't even said anything. Not when you'd be crying about a different reaction.

The blonde woman scoots closer to you, until her shoulder is pressed up against yours. Still, you keep your eyes on the white wood table in front of you. When Alexia speaks, it's the gentlest you've ever heard her be.

"Y/n, I'm sorry your parents didn't respond well. You deserve more than that." At this, you shrug, ignoring the way your bottom lip is trembling. A few tears escape, and you wipe them away quickly, like they were never there. "Can you look at me?" Alexia asks. You turn to her, biting your lip to keep your emotions in check when you see the way Ale's eyes are also watery.

"I'm really proud of you, cariño."

"For what?" you respond, before you can stop yourself, sounding more like a sob than actual words.

"Oh, pequeña. For all of it. For talking to me when I know being vulnerable is difficult. For telling me, when I know it couldn't have been easy. For turning into this incredibly good person, despite the people the raised you."

There's no chance for you, after that. The cries fall out of your lips, and you are powerless to stop them. Alexia is steady next to you, even as your body trembles with emotion. She pulls you into her, arms holding you tightly against her.

"I know, pequeña, I'm sorry. It's gonna be okay. I promise." If you weren't preoccupied with sobbing into your captain's shirt, you'd notice that she's also crying, just a little.

"I don't understand why they can't just love me. It's all they're supposed to do, but I'm not good enough for them," you cry, all the feelings you'd been pushing down now pouring out of you.

"No, cariño. They are the ones that are not good enough for you. You have so many people in your life that love you, that have no obligation to love you, but they do anyway. That means that you are good. Your parents... it's their problem, not yours." Alexia can tell you aren't fully convinced. She pulls back, tilting your chin up to look at you.

"You are good, cariño, so good. You'll always be good enough. We'll tell you that, everyday until you believe it, if that's what it takes."

"We?" you ask, confused.

The blonde woman looks a little exasperated. "The team. Y/n, Irene and Mapi were ready to fight me to get you to live with them. When the rest of the team finds out, I'm going to have some serious competition. We want you around, y/n. We really do."

"Oh." you say, because you're starting to believe her, and you aren't sure how else to respond to that. "So... you really don't mind me staying here?" you check.

"No. I really don't." Alexia promises. You nod, weakly smiling at her. She's glad to see something on your face that isn't a frown. Her phone buzzes in her hand, then, and she picks it up, expecting it to be from Mapi or Irene, asking how you were doing. Instead, it's from Lucy.

"Y/n?" she asks.

You're drying your eyes with your shirt sleeve, and you miss the amused expression on her face. "What?"

"Why did Lucy just text me that 'y/n is lying, whatever she tells you.'"

You gasp, a real smile lighting up your face. Alexia laughs at your expression. "I almost forgot! I told Lucy if she told you what was going on, she'd regret it."

You guess that maybe, Lucy was just looking out for you, and maybe you don't need to tell Alexia what her and Ona were doing, but then again, the shower is a public space, and you'd been scarred for life. You'd thank Lucy for telling Ale later, after you enjoyed watching her get scolded by Alexia. You're starting to think most of the team would forgive you for almost anything.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

[immajustvibehere]

Amidst a Crashing World (1/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

summary: You had left the gang about a year ago. There were many reasons as to why, but that you had received a rather gruff rejection from the man you loved was definitely on that list. Now, Arthur appears in front of your little cabin with an interesting demand.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

Link to my Masterlist

1600 words, less than 10 minutes reading time

It had been a year since you had last seen him. He was one of the reasons why you had decided to leave the gang. Because it had become unbearable to be around the man you had feelings for. The man you had confessed those feelings to and the man who had rejected you. It had been an uncomfortable moment, to say the least. Dutch had been talking about a bigger score for a while now and the mission had only been a few days away. You had approached Arthur who had been seated near a campfire with Hosea and Reverend, deep in a seemingly serious but one-sided conversation.

"May I talk to you for a moment?", you had pleaded. Your hands had been shaking. You had been aware: every score the boys went on held the possibility of never seeing them again. And you had felt brave that day. Brave enough to finally confess that you had feelings for this man. He was kind enough and caring towards you. He never was someone to express affection too openly so you hoped...that even if he did not feel entirely the same, he might be open to get to know you better and give you a chance.

"Sure", Arthur had grunted, a little groggily and stood up. You had walked a few steps away from Reverend and Hosea, just far enough to make give them the impression that this was supposed to be a private conversation. Quickly, but precisely and not without a certain shake in your voice, you let Arthur know that you liked him. More than the normal amount at least.

You peaked through your curtains to watch this very man dismount from his horse and caringly fix its reins next to the one of your horse, which was barely acknowledging the visitor.

For a moment, Arthur had just stared. Then he had shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with a warm but stifled chuckle escaping his throat.

"Yer joking, aren't ya?", he mumbled as he nervously peeked back to Hosea and Reverend, who hadn’t exactly given you attention during this ordeal. When Arthur had caught your dead-serious face and how you swallowed after he had said those words, he knew that you, in fact, hadn’t been joking.

"I- ehr...I don't see ya like that, I'm sorry", he had stumbled over his words. His voice hadn’t been upbeat or hopeful, not even apologetic or friendly. No, the longer you had turned those words over in your mind afterwards, you heard how bitter, how disappointed, and somewhat accusatory he sounded. He had turned around and had walked back to his log, shaking his head, chuckling coldly.

Arthur's hand plunged into his jacket, and he pulled out a wrinkly, yellowy paper that he unfolded. As he held the paper in one hand, a grin flitted across his face, before he took a breath and started loudly:

"I'm looking for the fierce, the ferocious....", Arthur stopped and plucked a ripe tomato from its stem. You had been growing this beautiful tomato plant right next to the gate that separated your garden from the path that travellers commonly used. But Arthur was the first one who had the audacity to help himself. Then he went on: "The downright awful degenerate y/n. Supposedly, she robbed a stagecoach and left the driver in a condition that left much to desire...She has fled to find refuge from her abhorrent, ginormous bounty of 15 proud dollars!"

Arthur had a shit-eating big grin on his face when you finally pushed the door to your little cabin open. He popped the tomato into his mouth, savouring the taste as he watched you step into the light and lean against the door frame.  

"That you?", Arthur asked indistinctly with his mouth full, quick to catch some tomato juice with his sleeve as it escaped the corner of his mouth. He held up the bounty poster that showed the most unflattering sketch of your features that you had ever seen.

"I look myself in the mirror quite often, but I've never seen this creature staring back", you joked as you nodded at the sketch. You were still unsure what his sudden appearance at your doorstep was supposed to mean.

Arthur shrugged and sarcastically answered: "I really think they did ya justice. Have you seen the pictures going round of me?"

You had. They weren't nearly as bad as the one he held up of you. But they did paint him more cruel than he looked right now. Honestly, knowing him better, all you can see is an actually soft man which might look big and scary when he swings his gun around, but now, as he took his hat off, he looked harmless. The afternoon sun nearly blinded him as he looked at you, but he deemed the gesture necessary to be polite, apparently.

"Yer trying to take me in for a 15 dollar bounty?", you asked and crossed your arms.

"Don't want'a sound rude but that's barely worth it...", Arthur smiled, "No I ehrm...was close by. A farmer down that way told me you was living here. I helped him fix a wheel on his waggon."

"Sure...", you mumbled suspiciously. There was no way you would have naturally come up in this conversation.

"'s been a while...", Arthur commented.

"Yeah. More than a year. Took me this long to figure out how it'd bear fruit", you pointed at the tomato plant Arthur had stolen from.

Shamelessly, he plugged another one and ate it, "They're good."

"I know", you sighed. You had given up and moved aside to let the man into your cabin.

It was a humble little place. Just big enough to fit a table, three chairs, a bed, a stove and a cupboard. Arthur noticed the rifle that leaned next to the bed, the few books that were scattered on the table and finally his eyes fell on a couple of sketches you had pinned onto the wall. After leaving the gang, you had tried your luck with drawing. Yes, it was a way to remember Arthur, because though you haven't seen many of his drawings, you knew he sketched everything he laid his eyes on.

For a moment, you hoped that Arthur would comment on your sketches. There was one of a doe that you were particularly proud of, but Arthur just briefly scanned them before turning his attention back to you.

"Nice little cabin ya got here...killed the fella that lived in it before or...?", Arthur suggested, his eyes falling on a little hole in the roof that needed fixing and the bedframe which was uneven and brittle.

You almost laughed at the suggestion: "No. It belongs to an old lady who went to live with her sister in the city. She gave me the cabin to look out for, until her grandson is old enough to live in it."

"Oh", Arthur commented, fidgeting with his hat.

You had spent months trying to forget this man. You were sure you'd never see him again, not if you could have helped it. You were glad about leaving your affiliations with the van der Linde gang behind. However, this had never been the official deal. The deal had been that you could roam for a while, figure yourself out and then join back. You never did. And now you had a sour feeling as to why this man was currently scanning your backyard through the window.

"Why are you here?", you asked, your tone serious.

"It's good to see you again", Arthur light-heartedly said. It almost sounded like a joke.

"Arthur", you warned him.

"Lot has happened since you left...", Arthur said, still wandering around in this cabin as if he was scanning the small territory, "we lost some people in Blackwater...Mac and Davey...Jenny..."

You knew about Mac. It was reported in the newspaper, but when Arthur mentioned Jenny, your jaw dropped. You felt a sort of anger flare up. You had gotten along well with Jenny. She was a kind and funny girl and you had considered her a friend.

"How did- Why...How did this even happen?!", you grumbled, "Jenny wasn't someone who would be in the midst of a fight. Hell, she knew how to handle a gun, but-"

"I know", Arthur interrupted, "couple weeks ago we lost Sean, too."

"Why are you here, Arthur? And why are you telling me this?"

"Wanted to see how you've been doing...", he shrugged, but his demeanour changed when you opened a drawer. You didn't even need to pull out the gun before Arthur stopped with the sugarcoating.

"Dutch wants you back."

Hell, this didn't sound like a suggestion. It was more like a threat. Arthur was here to collect you. Not for a 15-dollar bounty, but for Dutch. Because he had lost too many people and now you needed to jump in. Also, every bit of hope you held close to your heart, that Arthur...that there was a tiny bit of him that wanted to see you. That he really wondered how you had been doing.

It died with those words. It stung.

"Get out", you demanded.

"Y/N-"

"Arthur, I'm not coming back."

"Dutch-"

"I don't care. I don't give a fuck what Dutch wants", you yelled, slowly pulling the gun out, "Honestly, you have some nerve showing up with this request."

Then, you had to laugh. Laugh at the absurdity of it and laugh because you were hurt. The laughter helped to supress the tears, for now.

"Ya ain't gonna shoot me, sweetheart", Arthur said knowingly, putting his hat back on and slowly backing out towards the door, arms still raised because he didn't want to give you the impression that he'd draw on you.

"Don't flatter yourself", you said, slowly walking towards him to make him move out of your house, "I wouldn't shoot your pretty face, but I can put holes in other parts of your body and it would hurt enough."

You felt bold, cocked the gun and aimed at his leg.

"Y/N..."

"Tell Dutch you didn't find me. Tell him I'm dead. Tell him I forced you to draw on me and you shot me...I honestly don't care. I'm not going back. I'm not...canon fodder for a cause I don't believe in anymore", you stated, your eyes fixed on Arthur. He might just notice that tears pricked your eyes, there was a hint of concern in his features.

When he opened his mouth, you were quick to interrupt him: "If you care for me just the tiniest fucking bit...yer gonna fuck off right now and not come back."

You thought about how he'd answer, 'I don't see ya like that', lasso you and drag you back into whatever hole the gang was hiding at the moment, but instead, he tipped his hat, turned around and mounted his horse.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Next chapter: here

I never have the nerve to keep a consistent taglist, but here are some tags for people who said they might be interested in that sort of story:

@pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @lonesome-ranger @twola @shiokitsune @hugthedragon @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463

If you want to be tagged, please comment under this post if you want to be included to the taglist for this story OR any fic I post in future.

Special thanks to @little-honeypie 'cause we've been cooking that story up together <3

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction #arthur morgan x fem!reader #arthur morgan x femreader

[pitchsidestories]

Arsenal Book Club || Katie McCabe x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1897

With a satisfied smile Kim Little oversaw the little group of players who decided to stay after the Arsenal afternoon training to participate in the first meeting of the club’s book club: “Great, I think we’re complete now that means we can start.” “We’re more people than I expected.”, Leah Williamson admitted genuine. Next to her Lia Wälti had an amused smile on her lips: “Me too to be honest. Although some of us are more present than others.” The Swiss midfielder could not help but to nod into Noelle Maritz direction who was deep asleep using the stacked books as pillows.

Out of breath but with a huge grin on her face Katie McCabe crashed the peaceful scenery: “Hi guys, I hope you didn’t start without me.” “Katie, you were the last person I expected to come here!”, stunned Vivianne Miedema looked at one of her closest friends in the team. Playfully offended the irish woman asked:” What’s that supposed to mean?”  “I’ve never seen you reading.”, the Dutch striker replied laughing.

You’ve been quiet so far, holding the book club pick in your hands but you’d never miss a chance to mock Katie so you interfered into the conversation with a challenging grin: “You can read?” “You two are so rude. I’ll sit as far away from you as possible but at least I brought the most important thing with me.”, the brunette said, a mischievous look on her face. Her expression made Jen Beattie chuckle:“ Your book?” “No, the wine, Jen!”, the Irish midfielder rolled her eyes. She lived for the drama. “So that’s why you’re here.”, Beth Mead exclaimed delighted.

Innocently Katie looked around her teammates: “Is not that what book clubs are all about? Good company and wine?” “And talking about books, Katie.”, Leah reminded her. The Irish woman threw a cocky smile in the direction of the English defender:” Did you finish a book for once, Leah?” “Of course, I finished it.”, the vice-captain mumbled although her blushed cheeks were telling the truth that she didn’t. Her schedule was just too busy.

Already slightly frustrated about the fact that the evening did not go as planned, Kim groaned: ”Can we start now?” “Yes, please.”, Lia agreed motivated while trying to ignore Noelle’s snore who got louder with each minute that was passing by. Relived the captain sighed: ”Thanks. Wait, Manu that does not look like our book club pick?” “It’s, it’s just the German translation.”, the goalkeeper explained. Sceptical Leah glanced at the Austrian:” Why would you read it in German?” “That way I can understand it better.”, Manuela Zinsberger told them, her cheeks burning red.

Katie changed the topic, holding up a bottle of wine and gesturing towards some glasses; “So who of the ladies wants wine?“ Before anyone could answer, she flashed you a flirty grin; “Does the bookish missus want a glass?“ “Katie! We didn’t even start discussing the book!“, you admonished the midfielder but couldn’t suppress a smile. “So?“, she retorted. Rolling your eyes, you finally gave in, in hopes that this would shut her up; “Okay, fine. You can fill the glasses.“ “Was that so bad?“, she grinned, filling the glasses and handing the first one to you. To your surprise, she did let you have a conversation about the book for some time, during which she made a point to look extra bored. At some point, she got up and excused herself. Vivianne followed shortly after.

At the door to the bathroom, the dutch player stopped her; “Katie, you didn’t really come here for the books, right?“ Katie stood in front of the sink, washing her hands and gasped in feigned shock; “How did you find that out, Sherlock?“ “The way you look at her, Watson.“, Viv replied, arms crossed in front of her chest. The Irish midfielder shrugged unimpressed; “And? What if I say yes? Will you kick me out of your book club?“

A small smile appeared on Viviannes lips; “No. But do you want some advice?“ “No.“, Katie answered quickly which made her team mate frown in confusion. But then Viv just shrugged and stepped in Katies place to wash her hands; “Alright.“ “I can do that without your help.“ “I know but maybe you should try to her hobbies seriously.“, Viv suggested casually.Katie gestured around herself; “I do. That’s why I’m here.“ “That’s cute for your standards.“, Viv smirked. “Shut up, Miedema.“

The smile on the dutch players face only grew bigger, knowing she hit a nerve; “Let’s go back to the others.“ “I thought you wanted to wash your hands for the rest of the night.“, Katie nodded in the direction of the sink. Vivianne turned off the water; “Only until you admitted why you’re really here. Thankfully I can read you like a book.“ “No, you can only read books like a book.“, the Irish woman answered. Vivianne ignored the joke with a shake of her head; “False.“ “No, I don’t have text all over me.“ “You’re such an idiot.“,Viv replied with a mixture of annoyance and fondness before following Katie out of the bathroom.

The striker glanced curiously at the teammates when she was sitting down:” What did we miss guys?” Kim sighed frustrated:” We started to talk about Jen’s love life instead of our recent read.” “We didn’t even finish Leah’s excuses on why she was too busy to finish the book.”, Beth teased the blonde teammate. “She’s really a busy girl.”, you hummed. Immediately Leah started to defend herself while pouting:”I am! It’s not my fault.”

Innocently Katie turned to you:” Maybe you should tell us how do you make time for reading while having a busy schedule aswell.” “Or we could keep talking about Jen’s dating dilemma.”, you proposed the idea with a wink in the direction, of the older Scottish woman.  “Or we could finally start talking about the book”, Kim added already feeling her evening plan going of the rails tonight. Slowly you agreed:” Yes, that is an option too.” “Sounds boring.”, Katie mocked you two.

A big smile was on Beth’s lips as she nodded:“Honestly, especially because Jen’s dating stories are always so funny.”  “I give up. Katie, can you give me some more of your wine`”, the captain groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Motivated the Irish woman stood up:“I’ll gladly do that!” “Thanks. Cheers to you all .”, Kim mumbled with a defeated smile. A wide grin was on Katie’s face: “Cheers, captain!”

“Tell us some of them, please.”, Meado begged. Smirking the Scottish defender reassured her:“Yes, don’t worry I’ll.” Jen loved to tell the stories, everyone in the team knew that and they loved her art of storytelling. Playfully she scolded Katie and Kim:” Shut up you two. We’re trying to have a conversation.” “Tell them about your date last week.”, the captain demanded. Happily Jen shook her head:“No, I might see her again.”  “Wait, what?!”, Kim blurted out in surprise. The defender laughed because of her long time friend’s expression:“You heard me.” “Really?”  

“That’s more interesting than the book, right`”, Katie leaned over to you with a cheeky grin. You rolled her eyes because of her comment: “Oh please.” “You can’t tell me, it’s not true.”, the Irish woman said. A small smile was on your lips while admitting:” Maybe I do enjoy a little bit of gossip here and there.” “I know you would.”, the midfielder triumphed. “You know that gossipy books exist too?”, you tried to remind her. “And what should they gossip about?” Confidently you told her:” I’m sure I could find a read for you which you could not be able to put down.”

“I’m sure you won’t be able to.“, Katie answered, shaking her head with conviction. You raised her eyebrows at her; “I disagree. We don’t live too far away from each other so maybe you can come with me after the book club ended and I can give you your book. The one that was just waiting for you all this time and you didn’t even know it.“ “Okay, fine. I’ll come with you.“, she answered faster than you expected. “Alright.“ Jen interrupted you two, calling for attention once again; “Guys, could you stop talking for a second. I’m here telling you my story.“

“Oh, you know, we were about to leave anyway.“, Katie grinned and drained the rest of her wine. You smiled apologetically at Jen; “Katie can’t wait to hold her book recommendation in her hands.“ “Pretty sure it’s not the book she wants to hold in her hands.“, Noelle mumbled with a yawn. “Oi, Noelle, we thought you were asleep!“, Beth yelled out in surprise. The Swiss defender grimaced; “That’s impossible with you all constantly talking.“ “That’s not true. You were sleeping at least in the beginning.“, Lia chimed in. The two Swiss players started discussing while Jen continued telling her dating stories and Kim rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance while you left with Katie.

To your surprise, your Irish team mate got a lot less annoying on your way back to your flat. You opened the door for the two of you and led Katie into the kitchen; “You can wait here and I’ll get you your next read.“ “Okay, I’ll wait.“ “Got it!“, you called from the living room when you finally found the perfect book and returned to the kitchen with it. Katie turned the book over in her hands; “Thanks.“ “You’re welcome.“, you smiled brightly. “So…“, Katie started as she carefully put the book down on the kitchen table. “Yes?“ “Now that we’re alone…“ The smile disappeared from your face but instead you gave your team mate a curious look; “Was Noelle right? That you’d like to…“ You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence as Katie bridged the distance between you two. “I’d like to kiss you actually.“, she answered, more earnestly than she had been all evening.

With a challenging look you leaned forward; “Then what are you waiting for?“ “For you to give me the go.“, she explained, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Go on then.“ Without another word she pressed her lips on yours, kissing you passionately like it’s the only thing she wanted to do tonight.

When you woke up the next morning, you weren’t surprised to find Katie in your bed. You knew she stayed the night. What actually surprised you was the fact that she was reading in the book you gave her. “Wait. Am I still dreaming? Katie McCabe with a book in her hand?“ “It’s just for decoration. I’m trying to impress you.“, she replied fast but only reluctantly took her eyes off the page.

You smirked at that; “Yeah, it’s a pretty sight. But tell me is the model hungry?“ “Always.“, she laughed, so you got up, pulling an oversized shirt over your head and headed to the kitchen; “Breakfast will be ready soon.“ “I even get breakfast?“, the Irish midfielder asked in surprise. “Yes.“ “What a service.“, she teased.

You were just preparing the pancake better when you suddenly felt her strong arms around her waist; “I’m trying to cook here, McCabe.“ “Oh really?“, she laughed, her lips close to your ear. “Yes, or did you mean hungry in a different way?“, you asked. She replied by playfully biting the skin on your neck; “I meant it both ways.“

#katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso one shot #awfc #arsenal wfc

[theostrophywife]

kiss with a fist | chapter ten.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: the way i loved you - taylor swift.

author's note: get in, besties. we're crawling out of the trenches. i hope ya'll aren't too mad at me after this.

The fallout from your fight with Theo wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Mostly because you spent the entire weekend holed up in your dorm and avoiding the nuclear aftermath. It was a coward’s approach, but you were content to let sleeping dogs lie. You didn’t know if you could bear facing the others. 

The newfound friendships you had formed with the Slytherins were all sure to implode given the circumstances. Theo was one of their oldest friends and they were loyal to their own. Once Theo told them what had gone down between you, they would undoubtedly take his side. You would've. The worst part was, you couldn't even blame them for it. 

The argument with Theo hurt. Because you knew each other so well, he knew exactly what to say to push your buttons. You were so, so angry in the moment, but the more that time passed, you could see that you were both in the wrong. Yes, Theo shouldn't have acted like an emotionally constipated twat, but you also could've approached the situation better. Instead, the two of you crashed and burned, imploding whatever precarious thing you had built up over the past few months. You were afraid that your newfound friendships with the others would become collateral damage.

The possibility of losing all of them filled you with unbearable sadness. You cried in bed until you were sure that you couldn’t possibly have anything left in you and then you cried some more. Luna was obviously very concerned on your behalf. She had never seen you cry, so you could only imagine how incredibly jarring it was for her to witness you sob for three days straight.

To her credit, Luna never judged you for any of it. She just let you feel the range of emotions you’ve been holding back for months, often rubbing your back and fixing you a soothing cup of tea. Every now and then she’d ask if you’d like to come to the Great Hall for a meal, but you declined each time. You wanted to put off the inevitable for as long as possible. 

When Monday crept around and hiding in your dorm was no longer an option, you carefully timed your arrival and departure to class so that you wouldn’t run into any of them. Especially not Theo. 

The plan was working well and you successfully avoided everyone until Wednesday afternoon. You had just gotten out of History of Magic when Mattheo and Enzo cornered you. They were both out of breath and sweaty, presumably from quidditch practice. 

“Y/N!” Enzo called from across the hall. You froze and rounded the corner, hoping to lose them in the crowd. 

“I know you see us, Y/N!” Mattheo called after you.

Unfortunately, they were much faster and caught up to you easily. You clutched your books in your arms like a safety blanket. “I have to go to class.” 

“No, you don’t,” Enzo said. “History of Magic is your last class of the day. We used to study after, remember? Before you decided to ditch us.” 

“I’m not ditching anyone,” you countered defensively. 

“Is that why we haven’t seen you for four days?” Mattheo pondered. “You don’t eat meals with us. You don’t attend game nights. You don’t let us walk you to class. Sounds like a classic ditching to me, Y/N.”

“Look, it’s just…complicated right now, okay.” You sighed, adjusting the strap of your satchel. “With everything that happened with Theo, I thought it would be best to keep my distance.” 

“Is that why he’s been moodier than usual?” Enzo asked. “You two had a fight?”

“He didn’t tell you?” 

Mattheo shook his head. “He nearly took my head off at practice, but when I tried to ask what the bloody hell was up his arse, the git just stormed off. I should’ve known it was because of you.” 

You flinched. Enzo elbowed Mattheo in the ribs, which caused the latter to grumble dramatically. “What Mattheo meant to say is that ever since you stopped coming around, Theo’s been in a proper foul mood.” Enzo placed a hand on your shoulder. “What exactly happened between the two of you?” 

The tears spilled out before you could stop them. You had done your best to keep it together during classes and club meetings and even prefect duties, but that one simple question seemed to push you over the edge. What happened between you and Theo? Your friendship, rivalry, flirtation, whatever had been forming these past few months had blown up in your face and you had been the one to light the match. 

Before you knew what was happening, Enzo crushed you into a hug. “It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t have to tell us.”

“It’s bad, Enz. I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo rubbed your back despite the mild discomfort on his face from seeing you cry. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you and Theo can fix it. You two are crazy about each other.” 

“You don’t understand, Mattheo. We said some really awful things to each other. I think—I think I really hurt him. I figured he would have told you all by now and that it would mean the end of my friendship with everyone.” 

“No way,” Mattheo countered. “You’re only just admitting that we’re friends. I’m not letting all that hard work go to waste.” 

You chuckled, wiping a tear away with the back of your hand. Enzo grinned, pinching your cheek. “There’s that smile. Mattheo’s right. We wouldn’t drop you just because you and Theo are fighting.” 

“The fight was my fault,” you sniffled. “I took it too far and I said some things that I really, really regret. I would understand if you took his side.” 

“We’re not taking sides,” Enzo assured you. “You’re both our friends. We care about you equally.”

“But you’ve known Theo your whole lives.” 

“Exactly,” Mattheo said with a nod. “We know how frustrating he can be sometimes. Even with us, Theo’s not exactly the most open person in the world. But something changed when you started becoming closer. You changed him, Y/N.”

“We all felt it,” Enzo added. “He started opening up more. Even talked about his mum and he never talks about his mum. I suspect you had something to do with that.” You felt the tears well up again. “My point is, it would be silly to let one little fight ruin a friendship. We’re definitely not letting it ruin ours. 

Mattheo draped a shoulder over you. “You’re one of us now, Y/N. There’s no getting rid of us.” 

Your heart felt like it might burst as you pulled the two boys into a group hug. Enzo chuckled as you practically crushed him and Mattheo ruffled your hair, messing up the neat braid you had arranged it in. 

“If either one of you tell anyone about this, I’ll slip a whiz-bang underneath your pillows.”

"There's the Y/N we know and love," Mattheo said with a grin. "Now come on, you're coming to dinner with us."

"We're not taking no for an answer either," Enzo stated when he saw the hesitation on your face.

You chuckled. "It's Wednesday," you recalled, training your suspicion towards Mattheo. "You just want me to come to dinner so I can stop Malfoy from taking the last red velvet cupcake, don't you?"

Mattheo huffed in indignation. "Can't I be a good friend and secure my sweets at the same time?"

"You're officially demoted to acquaintance, Riddle."

He gasped dramatically. "You take that back, Y/N!"

The knot in your stomach eased as the three of you made your way over to the Great Hall. The reconciliation didn't fully rid you of the guilt and anxiety, but at least it was a start.

"Well, well, well," Draco drawled as he raised a pale brow at you. "Look who decided to join us."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Don't mind him. He's just upset you haven't been around to help touch up his roots."

"I'll have you know I'm a natural blonde, Zabini!"

"Merlin, all that bleach has truly seeped into your head," you quipped back.

The boys smiled as you took your seat. You appreciated how easy it was to slip back into things. They seemed to know that silly banter and arguments over cupcakes were exactly what you needed. You knew that they had to be at least a little bit curious about your situation with Theo, but they didn't pry. You would tell them when you were ready.

For now, it was just nice to sit and eat dinner with your friends.

After reconciling with Draco and Blaise in the Great Hall over dinner, you were at least comforted by the fact that none of the Slytherins hated you. With the exception of Theo and probably Pansy as well. Out of the entire group, she was probably the one that you were scared to face the most. You had made an entire deal out of threatening her not to hurt Luna and then turned around and did the same exact thing to one of her closest friends instead. 

She had to be beyond angry. You put off speaking with her until the last possible second. As you walked back to your dorm that Friday night, you were nearly shaking with anticipation. You knew that Pansy would be studying with Luna before heading off on their weekly date night. 

You winced as you opened the door. As expected, Luna and Pansy were sprawled out on the rug, surrounded by parchment and ink. 

“Hi, Y/N,” greeted Luna. 

“Hi, Loons,” you said, fidgeting by the door. You had never felt more uncomfortable than when Pansy turned over to look at you. “Hi…Pansy.” 

“Y/N,” she said simply. Her glossy bob curved perfectly underneath her cheekbone as she turned towards you. “We’re finishing up here so you’ll have the room to yourself.” 

You swallowed thickly. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. If you don’t mind.” 

Luna closed her book. “Would you like a moment alone, Y/N?” 

“No,” you said a bit quickly. “Stay, Loons. I could use the emotional support.” 

Your friend smiled and shot a pleading look at her girlfriend. Pansy conceded with a nod. “Are you going to finally tell me what the hell’s going on between you and Theo?” 

You sighed, sitting cross legged on the rug between them. “We had a fight.” 

“I gathered as much. Theo said something stupid, didn’t he? He always does when he gets scared of his own emotions.”

“We both said really stupid things to each other. I…think I took it too far though. I hit him where it hurts. Used his own words against him. I really hurt him, Pansy.” You averted your gaze, picking at the rug beneath you. “That’s why I’ve been skipping meals and avoiding everyone. Especially you. I know how much you care about the boys, and I really fucked it up with Theo. I understand if you’re mad at me, but I just want you to know that I really regret it.” 

The Slytherin girl appraised you for a moment. You had never been one to shy away from scrutiny, but you felt incredibly small as Pansy looked you over. You deserved whatever condemnation and vitriol she wanted to throw your way. You braced yourself for the worst as you met her gaze, but all you found was hurt in Pansy's expression.

“I’m not mad at you because you got into a fight with Theo,” Pansy said. “That’s his and your business to sort out. I’m mad because you just pulled away from all of us without saying anything. You assumed we’d drop you, so you did it first."

“And it was really stupid of me, but I know how loyal you are to each other and I hurt one of you. I didn’t know how to face everyone.” 

“You’re one of us too, Y/N,” Pansy declared. You felt your eyes brimming with tears as Luna squeezed your hand. “Not because you’re my girlfriend’s best friend, but because you’ve become my friend too. It hurt that you pushed us all away.” 

“I’m so sorry, Pans.” 

She sighed and awkwardly patted your back. Clearly displays of emotion were a completely foreign concept to the two of you. Luckily, Luna more than made up for the uncertainty. She nudged Pansy gently.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I get it, truly. If there’s anything Slytherins understand, it’s the sin of pride. We’re all quite good at hiding behind our cozy little walls of self preservation, as Lu likes to say. That’s exactly what Theo’s doing now.” 

“How is he?” you asked hoarsely. 

Not being able to see or speak to Theo this week had been hell. It felt like a part of you was missing. Like you were trying to function without a vital organ. As terrified as you were to admit it, Theo had become as essential as breathing.

Somewhere between your late night talks at the Black Lake, your childish arguments about pumpkin flavored creamers in the Great Hall, and sneaking him into Ravenclaw Tower to watch the stars in the common room, Theo's presence had become so ingrained in your life that its sudden absence felt like losing a limb. You didn't just miss him. You felt entirely lost without him.

“I won’t sugarcoat it. Theo’s not well. He’s moody and cranky and snaps at the smallest things.” You winced. “It’s not entirely your fault. I pushed him to tell you. Hell, we all did. I think we might’ve overwhelmed him.” 

“Tell me what?” 

Pansy smiled sadly. “I think you know.” 

“I don’t.” 

She sighed. “You two are so alike. Ignoring things that are right in front of you. Stubborn as hell, too. It’s bloody frustrating.” 

“Sounds like someone I know,” Luna added softly.

Pansy chuckled. “Point taken, Lu.” The two of them smiled softly at each other, which made you grin a little. They were so obviously smitten and you were happy for both of your friends. 

It made your heart ache all over again. You never knew how much you wanted that. That closeness, that intimacy. And all it took was a stupid, idiotic fight to realize that you already had it all along.

“When we came back from Hogsmeade, I took Theo aside and asked him about the two of you. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could tell that he's head over heels for you, but he was being an absolute wanker and stalling so I thought I’d give him a push.” Pansy crossed her legs, looking troubled. “I told him that he couldn’t keep ignoring his feelings, which is classic Theodore behavior. After some convincing, he said that he would tell you the following night.”

“The night of the slug club dinner.” 

Pansy nodded. “Theo left the common room with a bouquet of wisterias. The boys gave him so much shit for it, but he walked out with a smile.” 

A bouquet of wisterias. Like the one you’d seen in the bin outside of Ravenclaw Tower. You had plucked a flower from it and pressed it into one of your journals. 

“I didn’t see him that night.” 

“I think he might’ve gotten scared and abandoned the plan altogether,” Pansy confirmed. “I figured this week was just Theo’s way of coping. He has a bad habit of running away from things when they get too real.” 

“We have that in common.” 

“Trust me, we noticed.” 

Luna nudged Pansy with her elbow. You covered your face with your hands and sighed in frustration. “What do I do now, Pans? How do I fix this?”

“I promised not to meddle,” Pansy started. You nodded, knowing that there were boundaries that you couldn’t ask her to cross. “But if I happen to accidentally leave the passcode to the Slytherin dorms as well as the proper spells to get past Theo’s door laying around, then I can’t be blamed if someone comes across it. After all, it’s not like I’d purposely do anything to reconcile two blubbering idiots who are so obviously miserable without each other."

She scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment and slid the page over to you. Her gaze softened. “Look, Y/N. I’ve been friends with Theo for a long, long time. He has a hard time letting people in and you did it so easily that I think it terrified him. As hard as it may be, you’re going to have to tell him how you feel. You can’t dance around it anymore. He deserves more than that. You deserve more than that.”

You nodded, taking her words to heart. “Thank you, Pansy. To truly show my appreciation, I won’t make you hug me.” 

Her mouth quirked. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Luna beamed. She pulled you in for a hug and squeezed extra tight. “Good luck, Y/N. Remember what I said. Lead with your heart, not with your head.”

Lead with your heart, not with your head.

Your best friend’s words echoed over and over in your head as you paced across Theo’s dorm. Thanks to Pansy’s thorough instructions, you managed to sneak through the dungeons and into his room without any problems. Sneaking in had been a piece of cake, but forcing yourself to stay was another story. 

Logically, you knew that only fifteen minutes had passed since your crime of breaking and entering, but it felt like an eternity. Your palms were sweaty, your head was spinning, and your stomach was twisted into knots. You were bloody nervous. 

What if Theo didn’t want to see you? What if he turned you away? Oh gods, what if he came in here with another girl—

You shook your head so violently that you were surprised that you hadn’t given yourself whiplash. For Godric’s fucking sake. You truly needed to get it together.

The door swung open and Theo threw his quidditch bag on the floor whilst kicking off his shoes. He nearly tossed his Nimbus right at your head, but you dodged it with a yelp at the last possible second. 

Theo whirled around, his eyes widening in surprise. “Merlin's fucking beard, you scared the bloody hell out of me!” He propped his broom up against the wall and crossed his arms. “What are you doing here, Y/N?” 

In the dim dungeon lighting, you could see the heavy bags underneath those watercolor eyes. Theo looked like he hadn’t slept in days and a part of you felt guilty for contributing to his distress. Despite practicing outside for hours, he looked paler than usual like the color had seeped out of his skin. You didn't imagine that you looked any better.

Seeing Theo again was harder than you thought it would be. It was like receiving the kiss of life and having the breath knocked out of your lungs all at once. Every fiber in your being, every nerve ending, every cell and neuron came alive at the sight of him. Theo was the sun and you were just a wandering star resisting his gravitational pull.

You fidgeted with your fingers. “Pansy let me in.” 

“Clearly my protection charms are ineffective against meddling witches,” Theo declared loudly, probably half expecting Pansy to be eavesdropping on the conversation. 

“Don’t be mad at Pansy. She was just trying to help me because she knew how badly I needed to talk to you.”

He sighed and closed the door behind him. Theo stayed put by the doorway as though he was afraid to take another step closer. You couldn’t blame him. “I heard you loud and clear during our last conversation.”

“That’s the thing. I’ve gone over that conversation over and over again in my head and I can’t even figure out what we were really even fighting about. I said some truly awful things and I’m—“ you paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for that, Theo.” 

You wrung your hands together and averted his gaze. “If you couldn’t tell by now, I’m sort of shit at this whole vulnerability thing.”

“No fucking shit.”

A part of you knew you deserved that, but it didn’t hurt any less. You took a shaky breath, intent on focusing solely on the rug beneath your feet to keep yourself from crying. 

Theo came closer, his lanky frame coming into view. The smell of sweat and sea salt and cigarette smoke was so overwhelming that it made you feel a bit homesick. “Sorry, force of habit." He sat down next to you, nudging you with his shoulder. You swallowed thickly, wondering how in the hell that tiny bit of contact instantly soothed your nerves. "To be fair, I wasn’t entirely innocent in that exchange either. I said some horrible things too and it's eaten away at me all week. I'm sorry, Y/N. I was a complete arsehole to you."

“Yeah, I guess we’re both pretty big arseholes.”

His throaty chuckle sounded like music to your ears. “Is that it? You broke into my dorm just to call me an arsehole?”

You shook your head and forced yourself to look up at him. The fact that he was this close yet you weren't able to touch him made you physically ill. “No. During our fight, you said that I had no idea how you felt and you’re right. I don’t. I think I was just so hurt when you said that you weren’t my friend that I flew off the handle and didn’t even give any consideration to how you felt.” 

Theo clenched his jaw. “I don’t blame you. I was being an absolute prick when I said that.” His voice grew softer as he came closer. “What I really meant was that I didn’t want to be just friends. I was going to tell you.”

The pieces started coming together. He had been outside Ravenclaw Tower when Harry had dropped you off. “The night of the slug club dinner. Pansy said you were coming to talk to me and that you left the common room with flowers in your hand.”

He frowned. “I’m going to need to have a serious talk with Pansy about the importance of confidentiality. But yes, I had a whole speech prepared for you. I was going to pour my little heart out to you that night.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Theo clenched his fists and avoided your gaze. “I saw you kissing Potter.”

“You were jealous.”

It was more of a statement than a question. The entire thing clicked into place for you then. The discarded bouquet. The strange behavior afterwards. Theo had seen you kiss Harry on the cheek and mistook it for something else entirely. 

“I wanted to rip him to shreds.” Theo shifted beside you and sighed deeply. "I was so angry. At him, at you, but most of all, at myself. I saw you two together and I realized that Harry is the type of man you deserve. A good man. One who isn't haunted by dark magic and bad blood."

"What are you talking about, Theo?"

"I've been so selfish these past few months. I let myself think that I could...that I could be someone who deserves to be by your side. Someone who makes you smile and snort and roll your eyes at all my stupid jokes. Instead, all I've brought you is grief. You almost turned down the Slughorn dinner because of me. You came close to fighting Romilda because you were defending me and my friends. People whisper and stare when we walk down the halls together. I never cared when it was directed towards me, but I can't do that to you. I won't drag you down."

Tears filled your eyes. "I don't regret any of the things that have happened these past few months. People will always talk, Theo. That's their own problem. But the fact that you think you're dragging me down breaks my heart." Theo took a shaky breath when you took his face in your hands. "Do you not see how good you are? You're caring and kind and resilient. You're annoyingly charming and you infuriate me like no other, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives. You're the best person I know, Theodore Nott, and I'll not have you argue otherwise."

He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. "I wouldn't dream of it, amorina. You always win every argument we have anyways."

You chuckled, releasing a breath that you hadn't realized you've been holding since the moment Theo walked away from you in that potions classroom. He gently grasped your wrist, rubbing soothing circles against your skin. "What about Potter?"

"What about him?"

"That kiss," Theo whispered. "You don't know how much it killed me to see someone else kiss you."

"You know he's with Ginny right?" you said, watching as relief visibly washed over him. "Even if he wasn't, Harry is not my type."

"Oh yeah? What's your type then, diavolina?"

The nickname that you used to hate so much suddenly felt like a comforting hug. It was your thing. An inside joke that was only between the two of you.

"Snarky little Slytherins who vex me to death by thinking that I have a crush on Potter when I'm so obviously only into him," Theo chuckled softly. “If you had stayed, you would have seen that it was just an innocent kiss on the cheek. I was thanking Harry for walking me back to my dorm and for saving me from myself during the dinner.”

The expression of concern on his face softened everything in you. “It didn’t go well with Slughorn?”

“No, it went brilliantly. I listened to him commend our stellar performance in his class and I couldn’t fucking stomach any of it. Not when the one person that deserved it wasn’t even there,” your voice cracked as you recalled the anger you felt that night. “All because of something that isn’t your fault. I lost it. I gave Slughorn a piece of my mind and stormed out. I would’ve done a lot worse if Harry hadn’t stopped me, but it made me sick…all of it made me sick. And I wished more than anything that you were beside me making inappropriate jokes that would’ve had me rolling my eyes in annoyance.”

Theo tilted your chin up, giving you a full view of the spreading grin on his face. “You missed me.” 

You nodded, feeling your breath catch in your throat. “I did,” you confirmed. “I do.” 

To your surprise, Theo wrapped you in his arms. As he hugged you, every ounce of dread and anxiety dissolved while he held you so tightly that you could hardly breathe. 

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispered into your hair. “I have missed you every moment we were apart.” 

Whatever armor you may have had around your heart came crashing down at that moment. Theo had taken a sledgehammer to your defenses and obliterated them entirely. 

“I’m sorry, Theo,” you cried, clutching at his chest. “I’m sorry for all the horrible things I said. I didn’t mean it—I was just scared.” 

Theo rubbed your back and whispered in a soothing voice. “I know, love. I was scared too. I still am,” he admitted shakily. You blinked as he swiped your tears away with his thumb. “When we started this, I thought it would be easy. Sleeping with someone who hated me meant that there was no chance of me getting hurt. It was supposed to be simple, but you made it anything but."

The tenderness in his gaze pierced through your very soul. "You clawed your way into my heart with your surly attitude and violent threats, but you also showed me this vulnerable side of you that feeds baby thestrals and defends my friends and drinks disgusting pumpkin flavored beverages. Then you started becoming more than just someone I wanted to sleep with. You became my friend.” 

You sobbed, burying your face in his chest. “I’ll always be your friend, Theo. Always.”

“I know, Y/N. Aside from Pansy and the guys, you’re probably my best friend. Though if Mattheo asks, I'll deny it. You know how possessive he gets."

You chuckled through your tears. "You're my best friend, too. You're the only person I want to talk about my day with, no matter how eventful or boring. I care about your quidditch rants and your gelato obsession and your weird habit of cutting the crust off of every sandwich you eat."

"Hey, it's perfectly normal to have an aversion to crust, okay." You snorted, which made him grin from ear to ear. "Gods, I have missed that laugh. I have missed everything about you, my sullen, irritable, and borderline violent little Ravenclaw." You smiled as he caressed your cheek. "No one has ever stood up for me like you have. I’ve just gotten so used to being blamed for my father’s sins that I stopped fighting it. It’s easier to let them think that I’m the bad guy.”

You looked up and held his gaze, conveying everything that you wanted to say that you couldn't put into words. “But you’re not, Theo. You’ve never been the bad guy.”

He smiled softly. “I know and you know. That’s enough for me.”

“When did you get to be so mature, Theodore Nott?”

“Since the girl that I’m hopelessly and pathetically in love with told me to grow the fuck up.” Theo’s eyes shone with emotion as he looked at you.  “I tried not to fall for you. Gods, I tried so fucking hard, but I failed.” He dropped his forehead down to yours. “I have failed utterly and miserably, because I am in love with you and I’m tired of hiding it. You have my heart, Y/N. Break it. Crush it. Decimate it. Do what you must, but please know that it's yours. It will always be yours."

A pained laugh escaped from your lips. “I love you too, Theo. I have no defense left. No armor of logic or reason that you haven’t completely destroyed. Hai conquistato il mio cuore.”

You have conquered my heart. 

Theo placed your hand on his chest. “Do you feel that? I think my heart just stopped beating. The things you do to me, Y/N.” 

You smiled and pulled him in by the front of his jersey. “I think I know a way to make it start beating again.”

“Yeah?” Theo asked with a smirk. 

“Yeah.” 

He smiled as you impatiently tugged him down, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. Theo sighed against your mouth before picking you up bridal style, which made you yelp in surprise. You giggled as he gently placed you on the bed, his lips never once leaving yours. 

“Gods, I love you,” he murmured. “Not just your body, but your smile. Your laugh. Your cute little snort. The way your nose scrunches up when I annoy you. I love it. I love all of it. I missed you so fucking much. Staying away from you was hell.” 

“I missed you, too. All your snarky little comebacks and borderline vulgar one-liners and your eyes. Gods, you have no right having such pretty eyes.” 

Theo smirked. “Oh my god, Y/N. You totally have a crush on me.” He dug his fingers into your sides as you laughed and wriggled underneath him. Theo continued his assault, bypassing the top layer of your robe for better access. His gaze softened as he hovered over you. “Are you wearing my jumper?” 

You tugged at the hem and smiled sheepishly. “I may or may not have slept in it all week. You’re not getting it back, so don’t even ask.” 

“It’s alright. At least now you’re finally representing the best uni.” 

His words gave you pause. “Wait,” you said, looking down at the faded jumper. “Theodore, are you telling me that all this time I’ve been wearing a Cambridge jumper? The Cambridge jumper that you begged your mum to buy for you during your first visit?” 

“The very same one.” 

“But you love this thing. You said you wore it until it was down to its last thread.” 

“Yeah, but I love you more,” he beamed as he kissed your cheek. “I knew I was a goner the night I gave it to you. I spent the entire summer thinking about you. I thought I was going insane. It was worse than nicotine withdrawals. Then I had you again and I thought that would take care of the craving, but I got greedy. I just wanted more and more of you.” 

“Oh my god, Theo. You totally have a crush on me.” 

“I fancy the pants out of you, Y/N.”

“Good, cause you’re about to get me out of them in a minute.” 

“You,” Theo said, punctuating the word with a kiss. “Are,” Another kiss. “Perfect.” You giggled as he smacked his lips against yours. “Sono pazzo di te, amore mio.” 

You smiled. “I’m crazy about you too, Teddy.” 

“Teddy?” 

“D’ya like it?” 

Theo kissed you again, this time savoring every second as he pressed his body against yours. “I love it and I love you.” 

“I love you too, Teddy.”

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[undercoverpena]

viii. leave me on red

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eight of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - phone/text/video sex. angst. dont hate the jo.

word count: 3.6k

an: the hugest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for not getting mad at me for doing this to them.

You decided it in the minutes after he left, you were going to tell him.

Back pressed to the door, head resting, eyes closed. Tears stinging in the edges, burning. Your breath all strained and difficult—that is, until it decided what it wished to be, anyway.

Then, it shifted, transformed. It morphing into a sob that rumbles and cracks, shaking its way through you until your knees plead to crumble to the floor.

Because you had wanted to chase after him. Even ring him. Beg him to come back.

It wasn’t until you climbed back into bed, letting the scent of him wash over you, did you commit to the idea.

That’s when you begin rehearsing it, letting it move from rolling around your skull to dripping from your tongue. You did so as you made food, as you did chores. Perfecting it, choosing words so cautiously and carefully, swapping them out, practising it until it becomes a thing typed into a piece of your soul.

I’m in love with you Frankie. I have been for a while.

You don’t expect it to rival the greatest poets, and won’t find a place amongst the greatest scripts to ever be. It won’t be a speech that’ll be copied and used in film. But it’ll matter.

It will be meaningful.

It’ll have weight and carry truth—and you suppose, when all is said and done—that’s what will matter. It’ll be out there, free, existing—swirling between the two of you instead of caged inside of your chest.

Once you’ve spoken it, it should calm the storm inside of you; should quiet the choppy waves that collide within you, each one attempting to do more than knock you off your feet, but grasp you by the ankles and drag you under.

Confessing it, should do a lot of things. But that doesn’t bring you any comfort right now. If anything, it makes you feel sick, feeling only thorny anguish which keeps you up at night.

Never before had you been thankful for booking vacation time.

A chance to be, to sit around your home and pretend you don’t want to find a way to get to him, tell him it all now, let it unspool, even with no hope of it being the same as it ever was.

Because you could lose him. Ruin it all. Taint the one thing you cherish above all else.

It’s why you turn it over. Letting it worm its way from a box of doubts to a fully-fledged car crash you replay over and over as you lay in bed, fingers twitching, chest tightening, jaw clenching.

It’s only on the third day since you had made the decision, that you decide to share your plan with another soul.

Doing so over the phone—only one name came to mind. As soon as she answered and you spilt, you were greeted with only a joyous tone, it all full of pride. Your friend who is all knowledgable and wise, being nothing short of a cheerleader. Saw it coming, she tells you, been waiting for you to wake up and smell the coffee. You bite your inner cheek, doing so until copper swirls around spit, because you’ve known too (something you want to tell her). You’d been carrying it around for longer than realisation had been bestowed on her.

It’s easier not to say it. Swallowing it, letting it die in a pit of stomach acid, where other things you never say go to erode.

“Any advice?” you’d asked.

“Just be honest.”

On day four, you had gnawed the skin from your lip. It's sore, practically pulsing. It has its own heartbeat from how raw it feels.

Your nerves beginning to get the better of you, swarming and piercing, pecking away at your earlier confidence—stinging it with doubts, ones which spread, all poisonous, swelling out until it’s all you can feel.

His texts help.

One day I’ll get you back up in a heli. Only if I can sit between your legs like last time. Can sit anywhere you want, baby.

You’re not sure how it’s possible that miles away he can make your day better and your pussy clench around nothing all at once. Your body missing him—just as much as your head, heart and soul. Thighs pressing together, all your earlier thoughts popping like bubbles as you read his words over, and over, and over. A whimper grows in the back of your throat, hammering on the back of your teeth to be released.

Flicking your eyes up, you catch your appearance in the mirror.

The way your skin is just lightly sheened with the droplets from your shower—having been in a rush to reply than dry yourself. So much so, the air tinged with the scent of your shampoo and body wash. It’s thick, and heavy, your skin warming under the effect of his words making it more prominent, evident.

Smirking, you slide your hand until it undoes the robe of your dressing gown—letting it gape, the cool air brushing over once warm skin, until it pebbles, the peaks of your nipples hardening as you take a breath, and snap. There, immortalised, you stand—positioning your phone, ensuring the camera cuts off your eyes, beginning at the base of your nose, capturing the white of your teeth against your bottom lip, the white robe hanging, parted, framing the bare skin under it.

And you don’t think, you just send.

No caption, no message.

Just the sound of the whoosh as your heart hammers, beats, and thumps in the milliseconds it takes before you see the speech bubble of his reply.

Fuck, baby. Wish you were here.

Bending down to kneeling, you shimmy the fabric from your shoulders—pooling it in the creases of your elbows. Positioning yourself so your hand can be seen perfectly between your thighs, keeping yourself hidden, just a fraction. You ensure your breasts are on show, arm shifting to push them closer together, before you smirk—no, you think. Shifting your expression to a smile, a little one, which grows bigger and larger just as you click the shoot button.

It begins, a slow-motion capture of your disrobe, of you seating yourself down on the floor in front of your mirror, taking instruction through his texts—positioning yourself like a doll. The last being on your rear, soles flat to your carpet, thighs spread, head back as your neck elongates.

You’ve never felt more beautiful, even exposed. Eyes don’t linger on the things you usually pick apart first thing in the morning, before you dress for another day, and they don’t linger on the parts you catch in the corner of your eyes before you shower. You just see radiance, shadow-kissed skin that is being bowed to through a screen.

Fuck you’re gorgeous. Can see how wet you are. You need me, baby? Always, Frankie.

Your finger sliding along your inner thigh, tips brushing over before parting your folds. It won’t be enough, he’s ruined you—made it impossible not to wish for him, crave those thick, long fingers that both keep things hovering in the air and you hovering over space, time and existence.

“Frankie,” you moan, to no one but you.

Curling, sinking deeper until—

Can I call you?

You don’t reply, you just call. The distinct sound of a request to video echoes around the room as you slow your ministrations, a low whimper escaping as he connects, as his face fills the screen that's cast to the side, his own view of your ceiling.

He says your name, quiet, more questioning. Your trembling hand moves, picking it up as the other remains buried deep inside you, lifting your phone, giving him a view, a taste, a sight.

“Tell me what to do,” you whine.

Watching him as he drinks as much of you in as he can, commits you to memory, skates his eyes over every pixel, not wanting to miss a single one, before he clears his throat, before he carries you in his phone to his bed.

Licking your lips, you release a breathy sigh—one that begins in the depths of your stomach, rising up and fluttering out. Almost carrying a moan as you find that spot inside of you, the one which makes you boneless, thighs threatening to tremble.

“You want me to keep my fingers—“

“Faster,” Frankie stammers, “Want you to move those perfect fingers a little faster for me. Think you can do that?”

Nodding, you roll your lips, heat washing out over you, gripping the phone tightly.

“Fuck, baby. Y’know how good you look right now?”

You heave out his name. It building, fanning out over nerves that tingle at the edges of you—making your fingers curl, heel of your palm catching the swollen bundle of nerves that makes the sound of what you’re doing that much louder, filthier, more obscene.

And you fucking love it.

Love all of this.

Love him—

“Wish I could bury my face between your legs—“

“—oh, shit—“

“—y’like the sound of that, querida?”

Your eyes flick to the screen, staring at him—a pang in your chest flooding outwards, it mixing with how much you wish he was here, desperate for it, half-wanting to beg him to get his ass over here and make a mess of you in front of your mirror.

“Touch yourself,” you say instead.

Swallowing back the rest, letting your head fall back, obscuring him from view as you slow your movements, teasing, edging yourself as your core twists, and electricity thunders in your veins.

“Want—fuck—wanna come with you.”

“Alright baby,” he says—as if it’s the most normal thing, as though anything the two of you are doing is normal. “Let’s do this together.”

You hope it’s not the only time he’ll say that to you.

Days drag when you clock watch. Hours take even longer.

It’s a thing you know, but you can’t help but do so all the same. Each time you check, you hope it’s closer to the time. The one marked in your calendar, the one which has been making you both nervous and elated all week.

It had only been when you stopped tidying, stopped moving things from one counter to the other, did you spot it—eyes land on it and never leave.

You're not even sure when he left it behind, but your eyes linger on the corduroy jacket near your door. It’s moss-green, hanging, growing in the corner of your eye and borrowing more of your attention than it should. You’re sure it grows vines, ones which tap on your shoulder when you’re able to forget it’s there, only to make you look over, and spot it all over again.

The worst thing about it, it looks like it's supposed to be there. As though the hook you had expertly hung, (correction: hammered a nail in and hoped for the best) was always meant to hang his things, be dedicated to it.

In truth, he acts like he’s supposed to be here.

Fitting, even if you’d never made a place for him outside of being his friend. Now, you see the outline of him, perfect cut out, a drawer which could host the bolts and bits from his pockets, the shelf which he could place his eccentric collection of DVDs from the sleepless nights during storms.

You suppose it’s why it continues to catch your eyes, your gaze lingering on it—knowing, without brushing your fingers against it or burying your nose into it, that it smells like it. That, in its own way, is spreading out that calming effect he has.

One you need now more than ever.

Hand wrapping around the handle of the knife, chopping, preparing. Eyes studying the recipe that is ingrained in you, one you could do with a timer and your eyes closed, but you need to stare at it, to read the handwritten notes and pretend for a second it’s not something you used to make for him all the time.

Before the rule, the one he made you agree to because you’d asked something from him.

Now, you just snort. Adding the ingredients to the pot, turning the heat down, as a soft simmer begins before you wipe your hands down on your towel. Because in time, you’d broken all of them, both for one another and for yourselves.

And that had to mean something. Had to be more than a coincidence or something that just was. It had to be underpinned by unsaid words and swirling emotions neither of you feel equipped to handle, yet feel more prominently than you know what to do with.

You make more of an effort in your clothes. Not for him, for you. A thrill sparks through you when you catch sight of yourself when you pass a mirror, catch yourself in the reflection of a window, your television. Because you look like someone who could confess your feelings, let your adoration be known. You feel like someone who will do it, can do it—a confidence which has been coming and going since you’d decided.

It’s only when you lay it all out (the glasses, the plates and the cutlery), does a stitch begin to appear in your carefully thought-out plan. One that digs, the needle-sharp, pointed, aiming to prick and make you bleed, smear across perfection and make it ruin. A thing you put off, able to argue with it, point out its stupidity.

Tonight could be the last time you see him.

Maybe, this thing the two of you had was all he had wanted—all he’d needed. Not an overbearing amount of emotions he can’t handle or begin to understand.

A thought you try to squash, shove down deep inside.

That is, until the bigger hand pushes the smaller one on, and it begins to create a hole inside your chest. It forming based on that earlier thought. That dread, that worry and concern which has been thickening in the back of your head for weeks now. Now, it's grown out of the walls you kept it behind. It widens with each passing minute until it’s close to an hour and it’s practically a sinkhole. It taking everything it can with it—happiness, courage, laughs and the smiles. Vanishing them, wiping them clean like they never existed, as every bit of wanted you had felt, was painfully plucked from you, tweezed until you were back to that horrid place you were before all of this began.

Except now, you felt too much. Unsure if you’re able to put a cork in it, trap it under just want him to be happy and content at being friends.

A sob escapes, just a little one.

But, it’s enough to widen the door. Allowing more of them to bubble up and appear, climbing forcibly up your chest as though they’ve been building a ladder and plotting their escape for the last few minutes.

Each rolling out, freeing, bursting into the air. Your body racked with them, trembling, shaking.

Your hand finds refuge on the counter, stabilising you, keeping you from falling into the hole of your own making. And your thumb brushes porcelain, the neatly displayed food you’d spent hours on, a declaration all on its own.

A—see, I broke the rules too, Morales—except, he hasn’t come. Hasn’t arrived.

Maybe he’d known. Maybe he’d decided that it was all too much, standing you up easier—you supposed it was much harder to face the person you’d been best friends with and break her heart to her face.

But, your Frankie would never do that. Except he isn’t yours, not really.

Even less so as time ticks far past running late into the zone of stood up.

And you feel dumb, stupid. A gnawing sensation growing in the place your love had once been, it twisting, tainting, painting everything it can in ruin and staining it in the disappointment you never thought he’d make you feel.

“Fuck,” you choke out, hand clasping your face.

Fresh tears, acidic and thick, hammer down onto your cheeks like a downpour. Layering on top of one another, blurring your vision, making your chest feel both heavier and lighter all at once.

Grabbing your phone, you don’t even think—unlocking it, finding the contact and clicking Message.

Are you free for a drink?

You should consider it, go to bed, wake up tomorrow and bury your feelings in something healthier like yoga or a walk—but you send it. Discarding your phone across the counter, it clattering, catching on the plate as you bury your face in your hands.

Tears, hot and thick—running down your wrists—not doing enough to numb you as you let them fall. Disbelief doubles as hope is swallowed whole, your throat filling with sobs you feel forced to let spill—etching their way into the silence, fracturing it, cracking what should be laughter, but is instead loneliness.

It’s why you’re thankful they reply with a yes, giving it no more thought as you blow out the candle in the centre of the table, ending the night before it even began.

Frankie wakes to darkness.

It’s a comfort, the way it blankets him, allows the little shadows to rest easy against the ceiling from his open curtains—it is all soothing, relaxing. It even almost allowed him to curl back into the comfort of his sofa. His blanket—the one you bought him—cast over the lower part of his legs.

Then he remembers.

Eyes widening, blinking furiously as he throws his legs from the sofa, hand grabbing—making all sorts of noise on his coffee table—until his phone screen illuminates and he sees the time.

Late it spells.

It all a blaze, just in the form of numbers.

Fucking late it bellows.

Disorientation wraps around him as he shoves himself up to stand, fingers tugging at his curls until he imagines they’re more frizz than defined. Not even thinking—just grabbing. Phone, keys. Shoes barely on his feet as he yanks open his own door.

Calling you.

It rings. And it rings. Each unanswered drone of it doing something to the fragility of his heart. Making it quake, crackle at the edges.

All week, he’d done nothing but think of you. Think of holding you, burying himself close against you, not even asking you to shed layers, but rather just lying with him. Take in the weight of you that he finds all but a comfort.

I love you, he had planned to whisper. Mark it against your neck, just under your ear. Write it against your lips if you let him. Burn it anywhere else until you’re nothing but tattooed in praise and adoration.

“Pick up, baby,” he mumbles.

Ringing you again in the car.

The drive over tense, silent—the occasional dial tone echoing around the bed of his truck. His knuckles whiten at each red light, shoulders practically under his ears when he pulls onto your street. Something knotting, all horrible, riddled with vines and sharpness that cut into him with each breath he takes.

He’s not sure if he should be worried or thankful your car is in the drive—because the house is plunged into darkness. His boots clatter against your wooden steps, hammering on the short porch as he cracks his knuckles against the door.

Its echo, comes back to him—able to travel around in the silence and come back with an answer.

You’re not here.

But he knocks again, and again. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, something clenched around his stomach, tightening and tightening as your name falls, all pleading, an edge to it that he hadn’t known was possible. But then, he hadn’t known he could begin splitting down the middle, the seams coming undone, his own might and willing not able to keep him together as the realisation he’d fucked up the one good thing he had.

The one good thing he didn’t even really have, too cowardly to tell you—too fearful that you’d stare at him blankly and tell him you don’t feel the same.

Because he’s been drowning in it, in this, in you, for so long, he knows how to just about keep his head from going under. He had been sure he could do it for longer, could stem his feelings, push them down. Until, you slept against him, fitting perfectly.

Until he woke with his arm draped over your waist, your leg tangled in his, staring at him with wonder and awe as you traced your name on his back.

He should have told you then it was the best thing he’s ever woken up to. A sight he had only dreamt of, but never imagined could even be true.

Pushing your key into the door, he’s greeted by darkness. It hovering its hand to him, welcoming him, even if the cold chill of the place was more than unsettling. He wanders, feet almost dragging, half hoping to find you sat in the dark, because at least then he could begin to make it up to you.

You’re not.

Moving through to your kitchen, all set to pass through to your bedroom, when something makes his eyes pull to your table, and he sees it.

Eyes landing on the set-up, from the plates to the glasses, to the orange dish in the centre—and his heart drops to his feet. It landed with a squelch, a thud which vibrates through him to the tips of him.

You made him food.

You broke a rule. You broke the rule.

His eyes beginning to well up, stinging, until one falls.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Letting his hand run down his face, staring at his favourite meal—unable to unsee how congealed it was, how long it’s been sat there, existing, waiting.

“Fuck.”

an: forgive me 😘

CHAPTER NINE ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #jo: iltwy #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

[f1girliefics]

Twisted Anger

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: A silly argument and a friend's wedding can only end well.

You weren't even sure anymore what the argument was about.

Was it his busy schedule? Was it your jealousy because he was constantly surrounded by babes? Was it the fact that he never cleaned up in the kitchen after himself?

You weren't sure anymore.

But you were angry.

Even as you stood by your best friend at the altar. Even as you felt his gaze burning into the back of your head.

You needed to focus.

This wasn't your time. 

It was hers.

Her dress was perfect, and you made sure the groom wouldn't run off.

You busied yourself all morning with the wedding just so your thoughts wouldn't fill with Daniel.

It was difficult, because every quiet moment, your mind wandered.

Not only to the argument, but just him.

The years you two spent together, it felt silly to let all that go just because of some unwashed dishes.

But all he had to do was put them into the dishwasher.

Silly argument, which made you storm out of your apartment and made you pretend you didn't know him as he sat on the bench of the church while you stood in the front.

You recognized how silly it was.

But you also couldn't help it.

All things came crashing down on you. He was under a lot of pressure to prove himself with his new team, he didn't need your nagging.

It hasn't even been a day, yet you felt bad and angry still. You missed him when you turned and took a glance at his face, you just wanted to smack him. 

It was difficult. 

But you knew you loved him more than an argument.

You will talk with him, but for now, you focused on being there for your friend for her big day.

At least it kept you occupied.

---

Perhaps your third shot wasn't the best idea. But you felt like you needed it.

Daniel was sitting beside you all night and you swore you could cut the tension with a butter knife.

You tried your best to ignore it, for your friend. 

But now you felt lightheaded, you needed fresh air. The music also didn't help, so, you excused yourself from the table.

You walked a bit further from the venue. You found a bench and sat down.

You took deep breaths and closed your eyes.

You felt the alcohol running through you.

As you opened your eyes you saw Daniel standing close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah. No."

"You must be drunk, I saw how much you had."

"I'm about to be." 

"Before you do... can we talk? You avoided me all day."

"This is my best friend's wedding. She doesn't need my drama today."

Silence.

He didn't know what to say, and you started to really feel the alcohol, which made it extremely difficult to not say a thing.

"You know... I'm not even sure why we argued yesterday." you confessed as you looked at your high heels, your feet hurt, but your heart hurt more.

"You were right, I should help around the house more." he sat down next to you.

"Nah. You do all the... famous person shit. You are a 'high performance athlete' I should be able to handle a couple of unwashed plates. BUT we have a dishwasher for a reason. At least put them in there... please."

You saw him nod his head when you stood up.

You took two steps when you collapsed and let out a hiss.

You held your ankle.

"Oh shit, Babe are you okay?! Don't move it, let me see."

You watched him as he carefully looked at your ankle. You kept staring and now, you couldn't blame the alcohol.

You loved him.

You loved him so much.

As he slowly moved your shoe off your foot, he was so gentle. It made you smile.

"Does this hurt?" he asked but you didn't hear him. You were too busy looking at his gorgeous face.

When you didn't reply he looked at your face, and seeing that you were smiling he let out a huff.

"I was worried and you are not even hurt."

Yeah, you might have faked it for his reaction, but it was worth it.

"You look sexy when you are worried." you said as you moved and grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

You knew you couldn't promise that you wouldn't argue anymore, it was unrealistic.

But you knew you would always kiss and make up.

!DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST OR PLAGIRISE MY WORK!

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