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#; I’ll share once the thing boots up again
russo-woso · 3 days
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hii i have an alessia russo request :)
basically reader is a huge fuckgirl and everyone knows this, then when she meets alessia after alessias transfer to arsenal they become really close and start sleeping together but r makes it clear it’s just casual, then lessi starts catching feelings for her and r is aware of it but she is kinda playing with alessias feelings and showing mixed signals, eventually lessi breaks down and starts yelling at r about how cruel she’s being by playing with her feelings, happy ending though please maybe there’s an explanation on why r was acting the way she was?
also please write it with a bottom!alessia :)
No strings || Alessia Russo x Bronze!reader
Warning smut 18+, ab riding, fingering, orgasm denial, bottom!alessia, top!reader
It’s a long one :)
Moving to Arsenal from Barcelona had been a hard move.
You knew it would be a hard move but you had prepared yourself for it.
The worst part of it all was the fact you were leaving your big sister, Lucy, behind.
Over the summer, you had been too focused on the World Cup to think about the dread of moving, but once you reached the airport, Lucy approached to say goodbye and that’s when it finally hit you.
You hated it.
You hated the fact you had to move.
But you had to. You had to leave.
You had to leave her.
Her being Jana Fernández.
You and Jana had been dating since you were both twenty and had dated for two years, however, when you were still madly in love with her, she came to you and said she had fallen out of love with you. She told you that you weren’t the one for her, and that killed you.
Once you’d broken up with Jana, it just became awkward and toxic to be around her.
Every training, you purposely avoided her but it became impossible to do that when you were always put at partners for training.
So you left.
You left everything behind so you could have a new beginning, and you wanted that.
You promised you wouldn’t fall in love again, not for a while at least, but that rule started to fade once you saw her, Alessia Russo.
Still being 22, you were playing with the under 23s, however, within the days prior to meeting her, you had received your call up for the World Cup.
Due to the fact you were only getting your call up then, you had never met Alessia but Lucy and Kiera had both told many stories with a certain blonde striker in them.
Alessia and you signed your contracts for Arsenal on the same day and the photographers suggested you take pictures together, which meant Arsenal got to show off their two new signings that could potentially be the future of English football.
It was only after the shoots that Alessia spoke to you.
“You’re Lucy’s sister aren’t you?” Alessia asked and you nodded in response, worried that you’d stutter if you opened your mouth. “You two look alike.” It was the truth. You and Lucy really did look alike. You both were tall, muscular, tattooed.
“Alessia, right?” You questioned, already knowing the answer and was confirmed when she nodded. “I’ve heard lots about you from Luce and Kiera. I’m guessing you’re the blonde striker that goes by Less in their stories.”
“They talk about me? What stories do they tell you?”
“There was this one story where you supposedly tripped over someone’s boot and face planted the floor.” You slightly giggled as Alessia’s face went a light shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’m clumsy too. Ask Luce. I’ve always been clumsy since I was a toddler. Running into stuff, tripping over things, everyone says they’re surprised I don’t trip over the ball when I play football.”
“No way, I get told that all the time.” You and Alessia laughed as the similarities you shared arose.
“Anyway, I best go, my plane back to Barca is in a few hours and you know what London traffic is like.” You joked and Alessia smiled. “See you in Australia?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you in Australia.” Alessia confirmed and with a small smile, you waved and left leaving a very confused Alessia.
Alessia had never come across a girl who made her feel the way you made her which racked her brain full of questions about you, and herself.
———————
“Luce, come on, I don’t like her. I can’t like her.” You complained as Lucy kept going on and on about you liking Alessia.
Once you’d gotten back from London, you told Lucy your encounter with Alessia and she had been teasing you for the past week.
You were currently on the way to London to meet up with the team before making your way to Australia for the World Cup.
“Yeah, but you do deep down, don’t you?” Lucy asked, desperate to get the truth from you.
“Kiera, please tell her to stop.” You begged, for the fourth time, as Kiera looked, unimpressed, at the both of you.
“Lucy, stop it.” Was all Kiera said and it was your turn to look unimpressed at her.
“Look, Luce, I get it. You’re my older sister, you want to know who I like, but I can’t like Alessia. Not after Jana.” You explained and Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. “And anyway, Alessia doesn’t even like girls.”
“Listen, kid, as your older sister, it’s not just my job to know who you like, but it’s also my job to make sure you’re happy, and if I think you’d be happy with Alessia, I say to shoot your shot.” Lucy told you and you nodded along, pretending to listen to her when actually you were blocking her voice out because you knew you wouldn’t do what she was saying.
Once Lucy had finished talking, she pressed resume on her laptop and went back to watching her film which you were grateful for because it meant that you didn’t have to continue the conversation.
———————
“Y/N, hi.” You heard a voice say before a pair of arms wrapped around you.
“Hi Alessia.” You said, taken aback at how sudden the action was.
“How are you? How was your flight from Barcelona?” Alessia questioned, you figured to try make conversation.
“It was good. A bit of turbulence and Lucy being annoying, but other than that, fine.” You replied, grabbing your suitcase before starting to walk away, hoping to end the conversation with your action but nope, Alessia grabbed hers too, walking side by side with you.
“Oh, why was Lucy being annoying?” Alessia asked and you mentally screamed.
As much as you wanted to speak to Alessia, like you really really wanted to, you couldn’t.
Could you?
“Just being herself, you know?” You lied, definitely not being able to tell Alessia the truth.
“Y/N!” You hear Georgia shout from across the terminal and you let out a small thankful sigh, not loud enough for Alessia to pick up on it though.
“I’ll see you on the plane, okay? Bye less.” You smiled at her, before walking to Georgia who enveloped you in a hug.
——————
To say you had had the best weeks of your life was an understatement.
Smashing through the group stages and winning against Nigeria, the whole team had an excited buzz around them.
The only thing that could make the summer even better, was if you could just admit your feelings to Alessia.
Over the past weeks, you and her had grown closer and closer, and you were definite that feelings were there for her but you pushed them away, also definite that your feelings were wrong.
To celebrate the win against Colombia, the whole team decided to go out after the match.
It had started with you saying you weren’t drinking much, but with constant nagging from Lucy, Mary, and a few other girls to drink, you figured you might as well.
You deserved to and it also meant you could get them off your back.
Once you had your first drink, you expected to feel a bit tipsy and then that would have been time to head home.
However, what you didn’t expect to happen, was to be drunkenly taking Alessia back to your room.
Whilst at the bar, flirty and needy touches from both, you and Alessia, had occurred and you took Alessia’s hand in yours, leading her outside before planting your lips on hers.
“Stay in my room tonight.” You whispered in her ear, breaking your lips from her jaw.
Alessia nodded almost immediately, moving to look you in your eyes before pressing her lips on yours.
From that moment, you booked a taxi and eventually ended back at the hotel, you and Alessia the only ones there.
You led Alessia upstairs, not letting your lips off her.
As you entered the room, you pinned Alessia against the wall, moving your lips down her neck whilst her hands tangled themselves in your hair.
A small sigh escaped Alessia’s mouth, her grip in your hair tightening as you continued to attack the sweet spot on her neck.
“Fuck” she murmured, whilst you licked the sensitive, fast growing mark on her neck.
You grabbed ahold of the bottom of her shirt, pulling it quickly over her head, before reconnecting your lips with her body.
This time, instead of moving to her neck, you pressed your lips to her collarbone and down to her chest, just above where her bra sat.
“Move to the bed?” You questioned, pulling away from her body.
“Please.” She whined as you grabbed the back of thighs, lifting her up, effortlessly, and carrying her to the bed.
You placed her down in the centre of the bed before climbing above her.
“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” You whispered in her ear whilst reaching beneath her to unclip her bra.
“Take this off.” Alessia told you, playing with the hem of your shirt.
You sat up, nearly ripping the shirt off you, your abs flexing at the cool air.
You watched as Alessia’s eyes trailed down your body to your abs, her eyes growing when she landed on them.
You smirked lightly before grabbing the top of her trousers, pulling down swiftly along with her underwear.
“Please hurry up.” Alessia mumbled, your mouth quickly attaching itself to her right nipple.
“Patience, pretty girl.” You told her, your voice husky which clearly affected Alessia because the moan she let out was almost pornographic.
Your tongue swirled around her nipple, your teeth often biting down gently to give her even more pleasure.
“Please, Y/N.” Alessia begged, and you lifted your head to look at her.
Her eyes were screwed shut, her head against the bed.
You locked eyes with hers once they opened, the blue that you’d fallen in love with was the only thing you could focus on.
“Are you sure you want this?” You asked, needing the confirmation before continuing.
“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time.” She revealed and you lowered yourself so you were in line with her pussy.
Planting teasing kisses to her inner thighs, you eventually thought it was time and connected your mouth with her mouth.
Alessia sucked a breath in as you made contact with her.
The whole experience was intoxicating for you.
The taste of her was intoxicating.
The smell of her was intoxicating, the perfume she wore was all you could smell.
Her laugh was intoxicating.
“You taste so good.” You moaned shamelessly into her pussy which made her buck her hips into your face.
You grabbed ahold of her thighs, keeping them in place whilst you continued to eat her out.
Your tongue took turns between going to her core and to her clit.
“I’m so close.” Alessia breathed out, her breath uneven and ragged.
You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Alessia’s body, moving her closer and closer to the edge.
The sounds escaping Alessia’s mouth made you feel like you were in heaven.
You felt Alessia’s pussy begin to clench so with a final lick you pulled away, leaving a very confused and angry Alessia.
“What? I was so close.” Alessia whined, out of breath.
“I know, pretty girl, but you’re gonna cum. I promise.”
You wiped your mouth, due to it being covered in Alessia’s juices, before leaning down to kiss her.
She moaned into the kiss due to her tasting herself.
As you deepened the kiss, you felt Alessia’s hand work its way to your abs, slowly tracing her fingers over them.
You smirked into the kiss, knowing how much she loved them.
“‘m gonna flip you, okay?” You stated and switched your positions so now, head was against the headboard and Alessia straddled your hips, more so your torso.
She bucked her hips at the contact with your abs.
You grabbed ahold of her hips, slowly guiding her up and down your abs.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” You praised her as she started to pick up the pace of her hips.
Moans escaped Alessia’s mouth and she increased her speed.
With the sensitivity from the denied orgasm, you figured Alessia would cum quickly and as you expected, she did.
It didn’t take long for her to mumble that she was close.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god — ‘m gonna cum.” Alessia nearly screamed, and at that point, you flipped her again so she was beneath you and you slipped your fingers into her.
You continuously pumped in and out of her, to push her over the edge.
Curling your fingers to a particular spot, she moaned for the final time and her legs spasmed around your arm.
“God, I love you so much. I’ve loved you for ages, Y/N. I’ve wanted your lips on mine for months.” Alessia revealed and your face turned white.
You were speechless.
You didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was just post orgasm talk. Or maybe it was the truth.
“And I’m not just saying that because you just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I really do like you, Y/N.” Alessia admitted.
Bingo. There was your answer.
Thoughts swirled through your head.
You liked her back. You know you do. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.
“I’m gonna get a clean cloth and I’ll help you clean up.” You told her, desperately trying to change the topic.
“Oh, okay.” Alessia said, the sparkle in her eyes disappearing which killed you to think that you were the reason for the action.
You promised yourself from that moment that you wouldn’t sleep with anyone, especially Alessia, until you were ready for an actual relationship.
Seeing Alessia hurt and confused killed you, and you didn’t want to experience that again.
You broke that promise though.
Following the win against Australia, the girls went drinking and Alessia ended up in your bed again.
It wasn’t planned and you didn’t intend for her to end there.
But similarly, you left her confused and hurt when you came up with an excuse for her to go.
You hated it.
You hated yourself for making her go through torture.
But most of all, you hated yourself for giving her mixed signals.
You ignore her when you walk past her, but then sleep with her.
You pretend like you don’t know her, but then sprint to her when she scores.
You show her that you don’t like her, but then show her that you love her.
You figured Alessia would snap at you at some point.
What you didn’t expect, was for her to snap at you at the worst time possible.
After the final and the loss to Spain, the team went out for a final time, hoping the drink would take away their emotions.
The night consisted of alcohol, dancing and jealousy.
The jealousy part in all the girls who were jealous of Spain for taking the win, but for you, it was a different type of jealousy.
Throughout the night, a bloke had made his way to Alessia, a flirty smirk resting on his face.
You saw Alessia smile back and within the space of a few hours, they’d gone from talking, to his hands resting on her hips as they danced.
You hadn’t realised just how jealous you were until Mary pointed it out.
“Mini Bronze, what’s with the frown and the red face? Angry are we?” Millie teased and the rest of the team agreed.
Instead of responding, you got out of your seat, stomping over to Alessia and the guy before pushing him away from Alessia.
“Get away from her.” You almost shouted as he pushed back.
“Why?” He snarled, harshly pushing you again. “Are you her girlfriend?”
“What if I was? Have a problem with that?” You squared up to him before he threw a punch.
You eyed him down, throwing a harder punch back.
You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and Lucy telling you to stop.
She separated you and the bloke before telling him to get out.
“What’s your problem?” You heard Alessia shout at you.
It took you, and the rest of the team, by shock at her shouting because she never raised her voice.
“You give me signs that you like me and then you ignore me! You fucking sleep with me, but then walk straight past me the next day. I like you Y/N! Why can’t you just tell me if you like me back? I just want an answer!” Alessia continued to shout.
You watched everyone’s jaws drop at the sudden reveal.
“I do. I do like you Alessia. I’ve liked you since Lucy and Kiera would come home talking about this climbs blonde striker. But I can’t love you. I can’t.” Your voice broke as you said the final sentence.
“Why? Why can’t you love me?”
“Because…” You were about to explain but remembered all the people who had surrounded you, including your big sister and all your teammates. “Can we go outside?”
Alessia nodded, and you both walked out the door and into the darkness that surrounded the bar.
“Why can’t you love me, Y/N, because I need to know. I need to know if you love me or not. Because I’m wasting my life waiting for you when potentially, you don’t even like me back.”
“I can’t love you because I loved Jana and she left me. I loved her and she said randomly one day that she didn’t love me anymore. I don’t want that to happen to us, because I love you too much Alessia. I think I loved you before I even met you. I don’t want to lose you and if that means staying friends, then so it stays.” You explained, Alessia’s face changing from anger to sympathy. “I wish I could love you Alessia, I really want to. But I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”
“I don’t care if I get hurt, Y/N. And I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d rather quit football than hurt you. I’d give up football in a heartbeat for you, and that’s telling you something. Please, let me love you.” Alessia said, inching closer and closer until she stated the last sentence against your lips.
“I’ll never stop loving you.” You whispered against hers before connecting them.
This time, the kiss was slow and full of love.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Less. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to confuse you.” You rambled as you pulled away from the kiss.
“It’s okay. I understand, I promise you, I understand. That’s in the past now.”
Alessia was true.
Jana and that experience was your past, Alessia was now your future.
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errgodic · 11 months
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Wanted to just draw my icons, but I ended up in portrait mode instead.
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bookshelf-dust · 3 months
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baby love, my baby love
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gif by @corrodedcherry
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 1,880
warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things
a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love
————
“Where’s my girl at?”
Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne. 
You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you. 
When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you. 
“Hey, bug,” he says.
You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.
You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture. 
Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”
At least he’s honest.
You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”
He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”
You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way. 
“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”
Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”
“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.” 
You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.
The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip. 
“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache. 
“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”
You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say. 
He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen. 
“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”
That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.
You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks. 
He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”
You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 
You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke. 
Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.
You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.
You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places. 
He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh. 
You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his. 
Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes. 
When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will. 
“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.
“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”
Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does. 
————
Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it. 
After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body. 
You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.
“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth. 
Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”
You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves. 
“Mhm. That felt so good.” 
You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.
He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”
You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”
You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.
“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 
You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.
Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours. 
Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth. 
“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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little-diable · 5 months
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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
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She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed. 
“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare. 
“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk. 
“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out. 
“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”
……
“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman. 
“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils. 
“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days. 
“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind. 
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope. 
“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps. 
“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”
“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements. 
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his. 
“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander. 
“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them. 
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman. 
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness. 
“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.” 
“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 5 months
Text
Merry Ex-Mas - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Navy Officer!Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Cheating/Infidelity (Not Between Reader and Rooster); Friends to Lovers; Romantic/Sexual Tension; Implied Sexual Content/Suggestive Content; Light Angst; Use of “You,” No Y/N
Summary: After surprising your boyfriend doesn’t go as planned, you spend Christmas with Rooster.
Master List
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It was Christmas Eve morning and the house that you shared with Fritz, Phoenix, and Rooster was growing emptier by the hour. Phoenix left the night before, after you all got off work, to head to her brother’s house to spend the holidays there. Fritz left at the ass crack of dawn to drive almost half the day to be home with his family for a few days.
And you were getting ready to surprise your boyfriend for Christmas.
He told you that he was spending Christmas with some friends and because you knew his AirBnB password, you could see where he was staying. And after not seeing each other for five months, you knew that you needed to put in an effort to see him for the holidays. The two of you had been having a lot of fights lately and you were hoping that a Christmas together would help patch things up a little.
“You’re leaving soon too?” you asked Rooster, pulling on your coat.
“Yeah, probably in like two hours,” Rooster stated quietly, sitting at the kitchen island as you packed some snacks for your drive. He struggled to hide his disapproval of your choice as he glanced out the window for a moment. “You’re all packed up?”
“Yeah, I’ll get gas on the way to the highway and then I’ll just drive straight there,” you replied, glancing up to see Rooster’s expression as he turned to face you again. Sighing, you turned away from him. “Don’t give me that look.”
“I just don’t want you to drive all that way and be disappointed, that’s all.”
“I’ll be fine,” you insisted, gathering your last few things.
Bradley and your boyfriend didn’t get along. Actually, none of your friends really got along with your boyfriend. Granted, you complained about him a lot, but unlike the rest of your friends, Bradley didn’t even make an effort to try and get along with your boyfriend. The two of them just avoided each other whenever your boyfriend visited.
Rooster walked you out to your car, carrying your bag for you. You took it from him and moved to put it in the trunk. When you came walking around the car, he opened your door for you. Giving him a quick hug and smile, you slipped into your car.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” you promised him.
“Safe travels,” he returned quietly.
“You too.”
Rooster stood on the front steps of the house as you backed up. Once you were gone from his view, he headed back inside. Even though he told everyone that he had plans with people ‘from back home,’ Rooster was planning on celebrating the holiday alone.
As he pretty much had since he was eighteen, if he had it off.
So, he was just going to bake some cookies like he used to with his mom, watch some movies, and catch up on sleep. He didn’t tell anyone because he assumed that they’d try to drag him along with them and Bradley didn’t want to interrupt their holidays with their families. He didn’t want the pity.
He was just going to have a quiet holiday by himself. And he was okay with that.
~~~~~
You finally spotted the house. But you were a bit confused to only see one car in the driveway since your boyfriend listed off a bunch of names of people that were coming.
Parking behind your boyfriend’s car, you carefully shut the door and walked towards the house. Testing the door, you found that it was unlocked and let yourself inside. The sound of music quickly hit your ears and made you pause. You glanced around the rather fancy AirBnB when you noticed a pair of heeled boots that clearly belonged to a woman.
Frowning, you walked deeper into the house, keeping your steps light. You turned the corner and noticed the bedroom door ajar. Slowly cracking it open, you stood, shocked, when you saw your boyfriend and some woman that you’d never seen before fucking on the bed.
You stepped back from the door, your heart racing as you processed the image. But once you got over the initial shock, you jumped into action.
You started in the kitchen and stole the wine that they brought. Heading back outside, you stowed the wine in your car before you walked over to your boyfriend’s car. You let air out of his tires, not enough to be too obvious, but enough to cause problems—you wanted to drag that punishment out a bit more.
You walked back into the house and returned to the kitchen. Filling a bowl with ice cold water, you carried it to the bedroom. Opening the door as the music hid your footsteps, you tossed the water onto them, causing them to scream out in shock. Scrambling around, your boyfriend’s face noticeably paled when he saw you standing there.
“Baby—” he started, causing you to chuck the plastic bowl at him.
“Surprise,” you called sarcastically. Turning to the woman he was with, you added, “Nice meeting you. Have a wonderful Christmas with him.”
You turned on your heel and stormed out as your ex-boyfriend got to his feet. He pulled on his sweatpants and ran out after you, leaving the other woman alone in the bedroom, but you were in no mood to listen to him.
“It’s not my fault,” he stated, earning a scoff from you in return.
“You just accidentally lied to me, brought another woman up here by mistake, and then your dick just magically fell into her vagina? Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid?” you growled, turning to face him.
“You’re always working. And I love you and I cared about our relationship, but I was lonely.”
“Why didn’t you just break up with me? Why didn’t you grow a pair of balls and tell me that you were feeling that way?”
“I didn’t want to be the dick who broke up with you right before Christmas.”
“Oh, so you decided to be the dick who cheated on me right before Christmas instead?” you countered, raising your voice more.
“How do I know that you didn’t do the same? You’re literally living with a guy who’d fuck you if you let him,” your ex-boyfriend snapped back before adding, “Actually, are you fucking him? That would explain a hell of a lot to me.”
“You know what, have a great fucking life,” you replied, turning and heading out of the house. “I’m fucking done.” Reaching for the door handle, you yanked it open and sent one last glare back at him. “Merry fucking Christmas, dickhead.”
Getting into your car, you quickly backed down the driveway. You didn’t let the tears fall until you were on the highway.
It was already pitch black when you returned home, but it wasn’t too late. You could probably just make yourself a quick dinner and then soak in a bath by yourself and decompress. Unlocking the door, you dragged your bag inside and kicked off your shoes, not bothering to be quiet because you assumed that you were alone.
Bradley, who was still home, heard the noise and assumed that someone broke in. Sliding off his bed, he reached for his baseball bat. He held it aloft as he slowly crept out of his bedroom and down the stairs to confront the intruders.
You were lost in your own world, looking through the fridge. The bottle of wine that you stole from your ex was already open on the counter and you contemplated drinking all of it tonight. Closing the door to the fridge, you turned and screamed bloody murder when you spotted Bradley standing there with a baseball bat.
“What the fuck!?” you both shouted at the same time.
You dropped the container that you grabbed and jumped back. Bradley, quickly realizing that it was you, dropped the bat and let out a breath of relief. You held a hand to your heart and leaned back against the cabinet behind you, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor.
“What are you doing here?” you both asked at the same time.
“You were supposed to leave after me,” you stated quietly, causing Bradley to wince.
“Yeah, uh . . . plans changed.”
“Did you have plans in the first place?” you asked him softly.
“. . . No.”
You nodded slowly without any judgment. You simply pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned back against the cabinets. Bradley noted the redness to your eyes and the subtle sniffle and tear stains on your cheeks before slowly walking over to you. Sitting down beside you, he reached up and grabbed the plate on the countertop.
“Cookie for your thoughts?” he offered, causing you to laugh softly.
“You bake?” you asked, picking up a sugar cookie.
“Only around Christmas,” he replied, putting the plate back. He stared at you for a moment before asking, “You want to talk about it?”
“You were right,” you stated, taking a bite of the cookie. Looking down, you chewed slowly. “I found him in bed with another woman.”
“That son of a bitch.” Bradley turned to you with a softer expression. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t cheat on me,” you replied bitterly, taking another bite of your cookie.
“What did you do?”
“I let the air out of his tires and dumped water on him and her when they were in bed. And I stole their wine,” you added with a laugh. “It’s about the little things.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“He said that I worked too much and he felt lonely, both of which are perfectly fine, but I would have rather just preferred that he break up with me. And then when I told him that, he accused me of cheating on him.”
“With who?”
“You,” you answered honestly, turning back to him.
“Me?” he replied quietly.
“Yeah. He said you hated him.”
“That’s accurate, especially now,” Rooster agreed, nodding slowly. “Still, I’m sorry that you had to put up with that bullshit. You deserve better than that.”
“Yeah,” you responded softly, staring into Rooster’s big brown eyes. “I do.” The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before you added, “Do you think you can get the fire started?”
~~~~~
Tossing memories of your ex into the fire that Bradley started in the fireplace for you, you smiled over at Rooster as he started to play a song on the piano. He turned to you with a matching smile, pressing his fingers down on the keys.
“Old photos roasting on an open fire,” Bradley sang jokingly, causing you to crack up. “Black smoke nipping at your nose.”
“Just a little bit,” you defended yourself. “And we have the fire extinguisher.”
“I was the one who brought it in,” Bradley reminded you, causing you to turn away with a smile. “And I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Sorry,” you teased, tossing another photo onto the fire. “Please, continue.”
Bradley sang another verse as you finished up with your reminders. Simply standing in front of the fire, you reached for your wine and savored the moment.
“Although it’s been said many times, many ways, Merry Christmas,” Rooster sang, locking eyes with you again, “to you.” He finished the chord before slowly removing his fingers from the keys. With a softer look in his eyes, he added, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Bradley.”
The two of you continued to hold your shared stare as you slowly walked over to the piano. Bradley stared up at you as you stepped up beside him. He turned in his seat a bit, almost inviting you in. He didn’t make a move to reach for you, letting you dictate what happened, but he didn’t pull away when you slowly leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.
He rested a hand on your cheek, matching your passion, and happily accepting you onto his lap.
~~~~~
There was a layer of frost on the sliding door on Christmas morning. The fire burned itself out the night before, but there was still a warmth that lingered in the room, even though the embers had lost their glow. While there were stockings hung up on the mantle, there was a collection of four socks—two pairs—on the rug. Accompanied by two pairs of pants, a sweater, a tank top, a bra, two pairs of underwear, and a partridge in a pear tree. On a tee shirt anyways.
Slowly coming out of your deep sleep, you cuddled further into Bradley’s chest. He was still asleep with his arm draped over your waist and his head resting on a pillow. He had thrown a thick blanket over the two of you the night before and you pulled it up and over your shoulders. You started to drift off to sleep again, but when you felt Bradley’s hand start to travel up and down your back in a soothing pattern, you picked your head up.
“Morning,” he greeted you, causing you to smile.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” he returned, wrapping his arm just a little tighter around you. “How’d you sleep?”
“Great. You’re really warm,” you mused, resting your head on his chest again. “What time is it?”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s Christmas.”
“Good point.” Sitting up, you offered Bradley a soft kiss in greeting. Pulling back, you held yourself up as Bradley’s smile grew. “So, what do you normally do, first thing on Christmas morning?”
“Unwrap presents of course.”
You pulled the blanket back over you as Bradley teased it down. Offering him a jokingly sharp look, you laid down against his chest.
“Make me breakfast first.”
“I can make us waffles,” Bradley offered, causing you to hum in agreement. “With strawberries.” You literally moaned as he added, “with whipped cream and maple syrup.”
“If you make me that, I’ll give you your present early,” you offered, pulling Bradley in for another kiss that he eagerly returned.
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minihotdog · 4 months
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Whose Wife Is This?
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.
a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*
word count: 1k
***
John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.
Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties. 
“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.
“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”
Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”
“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.
“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?” 
***
The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.
He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.
He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.
He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-
Wait a second?
He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.
He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.
Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.
“John?”
He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.
“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”
He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.
He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.
“Love, what are you doing in my house?” 
“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.
If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.
“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let���s get you in bed.”
He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.
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primofate · 2 years
Text
You faint during an argument/disagreement [Genshin Impact] (Part 1)
Summary: You’ve been feeling under the weather for the whole day, you just didn’t bother to tell him nor anyone, thinking that the headache would go away. He doesn’t notice at all due to him getting caught up with some work, or in general just having a bad day himself. 
Notes and credits: Wholly inspired by minejiro.tumblr.com (They’re inactive now, according to the blog, but they wrote a Haikyuu one a while ago and I loved their rendition of it so much that I just had to bring it over to Genshin. I asked them for permission a while ago and they agreed :D)
Characters: Tartaglia, Diluc, Zhongli, gn!reader
Warnings: might have some harsh words/arguments, fainting spells, feeling unwell, panic attacks/hyperventilating maybe, not proofread, you and the genshin character live together, I seriously had trouble writing about what you might argue about with Diluc and Zhongli because these two are usually calm and collected. Not really a disagreement on Zhongli’s part, maybe just a misunderstanding. zhongli changes your clothes but its completely innocent.
Tartaglia
Could have a short-temper, depending on how his day has gone.
He adores you and thinks you’re his whole world but he does get some stressors once in a while, mainly because he works in the Fatui
Could easily overlook things when he has a lot of things on his mind
He comes home today tired and rather annoyed. Something about Dottore not taking his suggestions seriously, and Pierro never taking his side. It must be one of those Harbinger meetings again. He always seemed to be in a sour mood after one.
He hangs his coat on the hanger by the door, kicking his boots off and wanting nothing more than a hot bath, a quiet dinner and spending some rest and relaxation with you. “Y/N?” he calls through the house and you, half awake on your shared bed, stir a little, pushing yourself up with difficulty.
It feels so hot, despite the cold country you were in. “Tartaglia, welcome home. I’m just in the room,” you call out, stilling to hear his response. Tartaglia thought it was a little weird, cause you would usually come up to greet him when he arrived, but he just guessed that you were busy with something in the room. 
“Alright! I’m taking a bath first, love,” he shouts. “Have you eaten?” He asks and you answer after a short pause, mostly because you found it difficult to even concentrate on keeping upright, and you wondered if you could handle preparing dinner today.
“I haven’t, I’ll get it ready when you finish,” Still, maybe you just needed to walk around a little and get some fresh air. So, as he took his time in the bathroom you struggled to make dinner, in the end you only made enough for him, seeing as you didn’t have an appetite today. 
“Here you go,” You smile at him as he dries his hair, putting down the meal in front of him. If he wasn’t busy, he actually cooks a lot for you too, it just so happened that it was your turn today. 
He blinks when he sees that there’s only one set of food just enough for him. He narrows his eyes, a little disappointed that you didn’t seem to be planning on eating with him. He was looking forward to spending a bit of time with you.
“You’re not eating?” He asks and you shake your head.
“No, I don’t feel like it,” you simply reply and you hear him scoff a little. 
“Don’t feel like it? Well, that’s okay. Are you at least going to sit and talk with me while I eat?” He looked as if he wanted to vent about something, but your head was really bothering you now.
“...Actually I was just planning on going to bed early today...” You breathe out, your eyes dart up to the ceiling, it looks to be swaying a little. 
“...You know, I wonder why you’re so tired. You had a day off today,” Tartaglia’s voice borders on mocking, as if accusing you of doing nothing all day and yet going to bed earlier than him who was at work till late.
“I’m not feeling well Tartaglia, that’s all,” You quip back with a sigh and move away to get yourself a glass of water. The clink of cutlery against the plate signals to you that he started eating, but not before he mutters a resentful “Suit yourself...” 
You ignore him, having no energy at all to argue and bring back the glass of water with you to the room. You left the bedroom door open, just to get a bit of air circulation, but you stop in your tracks when the walls start to turn into squiggles, your perception of reality starts to distort and you try your best to tell yourself the bed is just there, just a few steps away. 
A sharp pain attacks your temples and you drop the glass, it shattering on the floor just before you yourself come toppling down on your side, blacked out. 
Tartaglia freezes at the sound, he’s midway to taking a bite of the stabbed steak on his fork but he retracts it to call out to you again. “Y/N?” You’ve disappeared into the room already and he can’t see what’s going on, but the sound had alarmed him. He waits a few seconds, before he drops his cutlery and pushes his chair back to stand and check on you.
“Y/N?” He repeats, walking at a leisurely pace over to the room. His mouth falls open at the sight of shattered glass but his throat closes up at your unconscious form. “Y/N?!” He hurries next to you and cradles your upper body in his arms, patting your cheek to get some sort of response from you. “Y/N, hey,” he gently tries to coax you into waking up, but realizes that it’s not working.
Now he’s conscious of the way your face flushes pink, and now it dawns on him that you really weren’t feeling well, your forehead was burning up. He picks you up and sets you down on the bed, calling for a doctor immediately. 
“Are they okay?” Tartaglia asks once the doctor was done checking up on you. The doctor shrugs. “Not to worry, it’s just a simple fever. They’ll be fine with some bed rest,” The relief that spreads through his being is unreal. For a moment he thought it was something serious, you’d never fainted before, and he was also just guilty that he didn’t spot it out sooner. 
When you woke up he was still awake and sitting on a chair next to you, there’s a damp cloth on your forehead and it takes you a moment to piece together what happened. You sighed and closed your eyes again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pass out, it was just--” and you started to feel nauseous again. 
Tartaglia gave you a stern look. “Don’t apologize for that, stop thinking too much and rest,” You obeyed as he continues. “You could’ve told me earlier that you were feeling unwell,” he rants. 
“I DID tell you I was feeling unwell, you were just being snappy today,” you state as a matter of factly. That makes him open his mouth then close it again, defeated by your statement. 
“...I know, I’m sorry... That wasn’t...my best moment,” he admits and has a look of regret on his face. You sigh and shake your head a little, used to his tantrums from time to time. He asks you once again, now willing to make up for it and make amends. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything? You haven’t eaten so I made some food in case you were hungry,” 
And there’s the doting Tartaglia that you knew. The one that always listened to your beck and call, he’s like putty in your hands, just melts at the sight of you. “I’m alright honey, I just need some sleep. Come join me? You must be tired as well,” 
He sighs again, unsatisfied with how little he has done but relents and leans forward to land a kiss on your forehead. “Alright, but wake me up if you feel worse, got it?”
Diluc
Has deep-set issues, particularly when it came to family. 
You’ve always tried to repair his relationship with Kaeya but soon noticed that it probably wasn’t your business, despite Diluc respecting you a lot and putting your opinions in high regard.
He was just a little sensitive when it came to topics like that.
“It was just a suggestion ‘Luc. You don’t have to think too much about it,” Said suggestion was you wanting to spend your birthday with your beloved partner, but also the Knights of Favonius. However, you weren’t really one for eating out or fancy dinners, so you suggested that your birthday lunch could be done in the mansion, essentially suggesting that you wanted to invite them to Diluc’s house. 
Maybe you imposed too much, but Diluc’s face fell the moment that suggestion came out into the open. “You say not to think too much about it but this is something that YOU want, it’s your birthday wish, how can I say no?” he counters and you can feel a petty argument coming up.
Your hand absentmindedly massages your forehead as you sit at the long table, eyes closed and focusing on the soothing sensation. “I have other birthday wishes Diluc, and I’m flexible, we don’t have to do something that you don’t want,”
“And like I said, this is the FIRST suggestion you made, which means that you must like this idea the most,” He crosses his arms over his chest, gaze lingering over you, clearly disappointed. 
“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that, I promise we don’t have to do this. It’s selfish of me to assume that I can use your house for anything I want anyway,” You attempt to give him a small smile, but he looks to be past being nice.
“I wish you had thought about that before saying anything,” He continues, gaze stern. “Instead of spilling it out and making me feel as if I have no choice in the matter,”
“It.was.a.suggestion.” You say in between grit teeth. This wasn’t helping the intense headache you were having right now.
“Clearly you haven’t been listening at all,” Your eyes snap up to look at Diluc, he had never taken that tone towards you before. He sounded extremely displeased. “If you MADE the suggestion, then it means that it’s something that you WANT. Is this something that’s not clear to you?”
You wince at the tone he takes, somehow a part of you starts to unravel, as if you feel like you don’t know this person in front of you. “Diluc, that’s not--”
“And for someone like me, who only wants the best for you, I have to follow every wish that you desire,” there’s a sarcastic tone to his voice, like the tone he takes towards Kaeya and it somehow bruises you so well. 
He starts to look as if he hates you, or was that your imagination? His mouth keeps moving, but none of the words register in your mind. You can’t grasp the fact that Diluc is angry at you. Your usually sweet and subtle Diluc is gone. It suddenly feels like the ground under you is falling apart. You stand up all of a sudden and feel your breath waver.
Diluc cuts his speech off, watching as you anchor yourself to the table with both arms. Your breathing is deep and your hands are trembling. “...Y/N?” You shake your head, unable to answer him because all you can feel is the sense of doom, as if the world was ending. Your peaceful world with Diluc shattered all because of a selfish request you made. 
“Y/N,” Diluc stands when he finally realizes somethings wrong, you’re sweating and you’re breathing so heavily, as if you couldn’t catch your breath. He takes you into his arms hoping that it was some form of comfort. “Y/N, deep breaths, you’re fine, love,” 
But you go limp in his arms and it takes him a huge amount of self control not to panic himself. He races up the stairs to put you on the bed, opening the windows to give you some air and asking one of the passing by maids to call a doctor. 
Sure enough as Diluc describes what happened the doctor confirms that you were probably overwhelmed and panicked, in addition to running a small fever. He feels like trash after that, and almost wants to stab himself for engaging in such petty squabble with you. 
When you wake up you hardly remember what happened, until you see Diluc’s concerned face looking at you and you can’t help but wince at the expression you remember on him. You almost can’t bring yourself to look at him and instinctively turn your face away. 
That breaks his heart into pieces. “Y/N, I...” he sits at the edge of the bed next to you, carefully placing a hand on your shoulder. “Is it ok if you look at me, love?” He gently requests and you blink, unsure of why you were so deterred by him. 
“I don’t mean to look away, it’s just...I don’t want you to hate me,” because that’s the look you remember on his face, like he despised you. 
You hear his intake of breath. “Y/N I can never hate you,” he explains. “I...I apologize, I should have dropped the matter and listened to you but I was...I only wanted to have your wishes come true, but I didn’t know how to do that with your request, so I...” he paused a little, and realized that the more he talked the more it sounded stupid. He opts to change his direction. “...I won’t ask for your forgiveness but...please, let me take care of you,” 
Diluc had always been sincere with his feelings towards you, and you knew that was hard for him. In some senses you understood where he was coming from, and you also played a part in the little disagreement. You sigh and your eyes easily glide towards him. “...It’s alright ‘Luc, let’s not dwell on it anymore, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow...I’m a little tired right now,”
It seems as if he breathes a sigh of relief at your nickname for him, that brought a little bit of normalcy back into the situation. “Of course,” he agrees and brushes your forehead with his hand. “You’re still running a fever, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to take your medications,” 
“You’re not sleeping with me?” You ask and he takes a moment to answer.
“...Not yet, I...I’m not all that tired yet,” 
In reality, as you slept peacefully on your shared bed he tenderly looks at you and drowns in his regret, unable to believe that he had pushed you over the edge and thinking over and over again that he doesn’t deserve you in his life, but he will definitely fight to be better and worthy of you.
Zhongli
Rarely gets angry and you rarely have arguments or disagreements with him because he’s always wiling to communicate or see other people’s point of view.
It doesn’t mean that he never gets displeased though, he’s just good at hiding it or concealing it with better sounding words.
Zhongli sometimes likes to make trades with the people of Liyue, mostly for valuable ore, artifacts or keepsakes. When he does this he usually has you to tag along (mostly because he can’t keep track of how much mora he has and relies on you to guide him through that part)
“Ready, darling?” Zhongli asks, his hand placing itself on the small of your back. You’re jolted to attention and you look up at him with a smile. 
“Mmhmm, I have our balances and notes ready,” It was like a small hobby of yours and his, collecting treasures and valuable artifacts. It was really mostly his thing, you just loved watching him converse with others and bargain his way through, even though he wasn’t good at it. That’s what you were there for. 
Today, however, you’re a little out of it because of a dull pain on the whole front part of your head. It somewhat feels as if you’d been punched in the nose, and the pain was resonating upwards to your forehead. It was a strange feeling, but you pushed through it and thought that it wasn’t a big deal. 
Stepping out of your home you instantly realized that this was not going to be a good day. The sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering hot, you were already sweating 5 minutes into walking. Luckily, the man you were trading with opted to meet at a nearby teahouse so you arrived and sat down. The only unfortunate thing was that the seating was outdoors, and so you couldn’t completely escape the heat.
The man greeted the two of you, and invited you to sit. The talks started at once, with Zhongli first relaying a wonderful story about the artifact the man possessed. Frankly you were hardly listening, all you could focus on was how uncomfortable the sweat running down your neck was, for a moment you thought to excuse yourself, but that was strange since you just arrived. 
You toughed it out, and tried to keep up with the conversation, opening the notebook on the table as the servers continued to pour tea. 
“100,000 mora is not a bad price,” You heard Zhongli state, and that was usually your cue to follow up on your approval or disapproval, but this time, it took you longer than usual to think. 
“Ah, um...” You looked at the notes in front of you, you barely wrote anything and the letters were starting to look a little blurred. “A 100,000 mora is fine indeed, but since it’s a little aged and older now, it wouldn’t be impossible to lower the price down to 80,000, right, good sir?” You forced a smile.
Zhongli has a good eye, and observes that you’re rather out of your element today, though he’s unsure what the problem was, so he continues the talk further. 
Somewhere down the conversation the two of them look at you, and you blink back at them. There are questioning gazes on their faces and you realize that they had asked you a question. 
“Oh...I...apologize, could you repeat that? I must have missed the question,” The man chuckles and talks, but you could only see his mouth moving and there was no sound except the ringing in your ears. The heat was getting to you.
“...Y/N...Y/N,” It was Zhongli’s voice that snaps you out of your stupor, he’s looking at you with concealed worry, but you also see a hint of disappointment there. “...Perhaps it’d be better if you went home first, I’ll put you up to speed on my and the good sir’s conversation later on,” It sounded as if he was trying to get rid of you, but he was merely worried about your lack of concentration today.
“...Yeah, alright,” You agree with a weak smile and bow towards the two of them, gathering your notes and balances when Zhongli stops you. “Leave those, I’ll handle them,” he says it rather curtly, but you nod your head and turn to leave, feeling a little useless. 
You took two steps and feel the world spinning around you, bright spots appear in your eyes and it was hard to see anything at all. You force yourself to move forward, not wanting to pass out in the middle of a teahouse, but your fears came true when you trip over your feet and come tumbling down the cobbled pavement of Liyue. It was just so incredibly hot, and your head was killing you with pulses of pain and discomfort. 
Zhongli rises to his feet in a hurry, striding towards you and picking you up in his arms easily, careful not to jostle you. Your eyes are shut tight, grimace on your face and it was clear that you were in pain. “Beloved, tell me what’s wrong,” there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, and people around you were staring, though you weren’t aware of it. 
You whimper in response, the heat is still beating down on you and the sun’s rays were not helping. “It’s...I can’t breathe properly, it’s...It’s too hot,” you writhe in his hold, just wanting some form of breeze but it was also a windless day today. 
Zhongli moves fast, he grabs the notes you left, excuses himself from the good sir and makes it home in a minute. He lays you down on the bed and grabs water and a newspaper from the living room. He lays the glass on the bedside tale and starts fanning you with the folded newspaper, watching your flushed, uncomfortable expression. 
He feels disappointed only at himself for not being mindful enough of your condition, sometimes he forgets how fragile humans really are. “Drink some water, please,” he coaxes you, knowing that it would help your overheated system. He’d wanted to get you out of your current clothes as well, and have you change into looser and cooler ones. 
“Y/N I’m going to help you out of your clothes and into new ones, would that be alright?” He’s been intimate with you a thousand times, so this was not something he was unfamiliar with. Only this time he was far too worried instead of feeling intimate.
When that was done, you had easily fallen asleep and he had called for a doctor, just to make sure everything was fine. Heat exhaustion was the answer that he got, and he was given a few home remedies and tips as well as medication to help regulate your temperature a little better. 
He spent the whole time silently scolding himself at the fact he missed the tell tale signs. You being distracted during the whole trade was already a sign and yet he thought you were just tired. He sighed and closed his eyes as he sat on a chair next to the bed, feeling that he had really failed in taking care of you today. 
“’Li?” Your voice snaps his eyes open and causes him to lean forward towards you. 
“Is there something you need, darling?” he asks, the rare expression of worry etched on his face. You shake your head, already feeling better now that you were indoors. 
“...Sorry we couldn’t go through with the--”
“Y/N, please don’t apologize for that,” his stern voice stops you, but his gaze softens and he takes your hand in his, cradling it as if it was porcelain. “There isn’t anything that’s more important to me than your health, do you understand?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer. “However small or slight it is, please let me know next time if you feel unwell or uncomfortable. You have to promise me this...”
You can’t help but smile at how serious he sounds, but you completely understood. “Okay, ‘Li, I promise to let you know,”
He sighs, and presses his lips onto your knuckles. “Thank you,”
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lets-get-saucy · 4 months
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Shake It For Me – Leah Williamson x Reader
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Summary – You take the arsenal girls to a country bar for team bonding night. While watching you dance, Leah finally works up her courage to admit her feelings for you.
Warnings - none just fluff
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It was your turn to plan team bonding night for the arsenal girls. You had been a part of the team for a while now, but this was your first time being in charge of team bonding. You knew a few of the girls were country music fans, which led you to the idea of country line dancing. It could be a fun way for everyone to let loose, have a few drinks, dance around.
After googling a few bars around London, you found one that was hosting a country night. Some of the girls joked about going all out, buying cowgirl boots and hats. Leah, in particular was always listening to country music and the both of you had shared a few song recommendations in the past. You knew she had been to a few country artists’ concerts but never anything like this.
The day of the team bonding night rolled around filling you with nerves. You weren’t sure why you were nervous. Even if not all of the girls loved country music, you knew that this would be a fun experience, with no shortness of laughter. But still you were nervous wanting to make a good impression and potentially get picked to plan bonding night again. You were also nervous to spend the evening with Leah. You had become close friends shortly after you joined Arsenal. However, the more time you spent with the other girl, the you realized your feelings towards her went beyond friendship. Not wanting to make things weird or ruin your friendship, you never acted any differently around Leah but that didn’t stop the growing crush you had on her.
The team had training that morning, just an easy session that was over by noon. In the changing room everyone was talking about tonight, asking what each other were going to wear, who was going to have the best dance moves.
“mate, obviously I’m the best dancer on the team” you heard Katie say across the room.
You shook your head, a smile taking over your face. It eased your nerves a bit to hear the girls excited for tonight.
“Hey,” Leah said taking you out of your thoughts, “want to come over to mine to get ready for tonight?”
You wanted to, the idea of getting ready with Leah making you heart flutter.
“I would love to Lee, but Less and I are getting ready together.”
Alessia had offered to get ready together a few days prior and you had agreed, thinking it could be fun.
“Guess I’ll see you there then” Leah gave you a soft smile, patting your shoulder as she walked away.
Her fingers felt like the left indents where she had touched you causing a blush to spread on your cheeks.
“Yeah, see you there” you manage to squeak out.
Grabbing your bag you headed over to Alessia. When you got over to where she was standing she arched an eyebrow looking at your face questionably.
“Who’s got you all red?”
“I’m not red” you huff out, rolling your eyes.
“sure you aren’t” she laughed, “are you ready to go?”
You nod, following her out of the changing room to the parking lot.
The drive to Alessia’s apartment was quick, both of you singing along to country songs as she drove. Singing and giggling continued once you were both in the apartment, getting things together for your night out. You had packed a simple outfit, a black top with jean shorts and cowgirl boots to wear. Alessia laid a similar outfit out, wanting to be comfortable yet stylish. You were both in Alessia’s bathroom, makeup spread around messily, as music played. She offered to do your makeup claiming she was practically a makeup artist. After reluctantly agreeing, you were now sat on her bathroom counter, Alessia applying makeup to your face.
“I’m excited for tonight” Less said, applying blush to your cheeks.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm, its all half the girls have been talking about all week.” She said switching to bronzer now, “Leah brought it up every chance she got.”
“Leah’s excited?” you ask, cheeks now even redder underneath the blush.
“You know how she is about country music.” Alessia laughed, seemingly unaware at your blush.
“Well, I hope she has fun tonight”
Alessia sorts through her makeup deciding what to add to your face next. You never wore a lot of makeup unless it was for an event. You already had to talk Alessia out of doing a full face of makeup, but you trusted her.
“I heard Leah has a crush on you,” you almost choke on what Alessia said.
“What?” you said, your face now on fire.
“Yeah, Kyra told me that Caitlin found out from Katie, that Beth told her, that Wally said that Leah was crushing on you.” Alessia rambled.
You just stare at Alessia at a loss of words. It takes her a few moments to notice your silence.
“oh my god, you’re as red as a tomato” she laughs, “Wait! You like her too!”
You roll your eyes unable to look at her, “she’s my best friend Less, it’s not like that.”
“This is perfect,” She says jumping up and down with delight, “tonight, you can tell her your feelings!”
“I can’t do that!”
“Of course you can, if what the others said is true then you both like each other” she smiles at you, her hands resting on your shoulders. “plus you’re always around each other, we’ve all been waiting for you both to tell us.”
“Theres never been anything to tell,” you shrug. “What if what the others said isn’t true and she only likes me as a friend?”
“Guess we’ll just have to find out tonight” Alessia smirks at you.
-
When Alessia and you arrived at the bar you spotted a few of your teammates gathered at a table in the back. Making your way over to them you couldn’t help but look for Leah. Now your nerves were less about if the team would have fun tonight and more about what Alessia was planning. You had spent the rest of the time getting ready practically begging her to leave you and Leah alone, but the other girl wasn’t having it. when you get to the table you notice they all have on cowboy hats and boots, all dressed for the occasion.
“well, well, well, if it isn’t the party planner herself” Katie said, as you approach the table.
“Looks like y’all started the party without us” you said, seeing that all the girls each had a drink of some sort.
The group laughed as Alessia and you found seats at the table.
Looking around at the girls Alessia asked, “where’s Leah?”
“Probably making sure she looks perfect for lover girl,” Beth said, causing your face to turn red for the millionth time tonight.
“Are you all in on this?” you groaned burying you face in your hands.
“Lessie made a group chat,” Katie said smirking at you.
“Really Less?” you asked.
The girl just shrugged before offering to get you a drink. As soon as she walked away you turned to the other girls.
“Lets just leave the two alone” Kim said, always the mom of the group, “they’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Thank you Kim” you smile, “wait, no, there’s nothing going on between Leah and me”
“But that’s no fun” Beth pouts.
“Okay, new rule of the night, no one tries to interfere”
“Interfere with what?” you hear Leah ask.
“dancing” you lie hoping she buys it.
The blonde giggles at your response, sliding into the seat next to you. She has on a cowboy hat and boots too, but you cant help the
“as if, you’re all going down” Kyra tells her.  
“it’s not a competition” Katie says dragging Caitlin away to the dance floor, a few people already dancing.
“It’s always a competition with you McCabe” Beth says following the pair, dragging Viv with her.
A few of the girls follow behind joining in on the dancing. Alessia finally comes back with your drink, she had also gotten one for Leah, setting them on the table she sits next to Leah.
“Ready to show off your moves tonight?” Alessia ask.
“Ready to trip over your own feet Less?” Leah ask back.
She giggle at Leahs response, tracing your eyes over her face.
“Whatever, I’m going to dance” Alessia says standing up, “you two have fun” she winks at you before heading to the other Arsenal girls on the dance floor.
Now it was only Leah and you left at the table. Fiddling with your hands you look around unsure of what to say to Leah without being awkward.
Picking up your drink you take a sip of the beer Alessia had brought you. Even though you planned the night, it was going to take a bit of liquid courage to get you on the dance floor.
Leah mirrors your movements taking a sip of her own drink, “who do you think is the first to trip?”
As soon as Leah ask, you both notice Alessia turning the wrong way bumping into Kyra. Laughing, you look at Leah, “I think we all knew Less was going to be the first.”
“Should we join them?” You ask,
Finishing her drink Leah stands up, “lets show them all up.”
She offers you her hand and you take it, ignoring the way your stomach flips.
-
Leah’s pov
Leah’s feelings had been building for a while. She didn’t know when it happened but she was in love with you. She may have accidentally told Lia about her feelings towards you last week over drinks but fear held her back from ever telling you.
Tonight though she couldn’t take her eyes off of you. Maybe it was the way your jean shorts hugged your ass just right, or how free you looked as you danced. Maybe it was the smiled that took over your face as you laughed with the other girls. Leah just couldn’t stop watching you.
After a few songs Leah made her way back to the table with Beth, in need of another drink. Even though Beth was talking, Leah didn’t hear a thing. Country Girl by Luke Bryan had just come on and Leah was captivated by you.
“Mate your drooling” Beth said with a laugh.
“Am not,” Leah said crossing her arms, her brows drawing together.
“Just tell her how you feel,” Beth said.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because she likes you too”
“How do you know that?” Leah questions her friend.
“she told Alessia and Alessia told us” Beth said like she was stating a fact.
Rolling her eyes Leah looks back at you almost choking on her drink. You were currently shaking it, and Leah was taking it all in.
“Ill be back” Leah tells Beth, leaving her at the table making her way over to you.
-
Your pov
You feel a presence come up behind you as you dance. Turning around you see that its Leah. She starts dancing with you, causing you to smile. You dance together, definitely too close than just friends, your arms rest on Leahs shoulders and hers resting on your lower back. The song is pretty suggestive as you and Leah dance on each other. Laughing, Leah spins you around before pulling you back in.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Leah whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Thanks… you do too” you respond, suddenly feeling shy.
After the song ends, your still standing in Leah’s arms when a slower country song comes on.
“Dance with me?” Leah ask.
You nod unable to find words. The nerves from early are back and your stomach is doing flips again. Swaying to the music Leah pulls you closer.
She brushes a stand of your hair behind your ear, “I lied earlier.”
“What did you lie about?” You ask, looking up slightly at Leah.
“You don’t look beautiful just tonight,” she says softly, “You look beautiful every day, I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“Leah,” you whisper.
She stops dancing taking a step back, “sorry, that was too much, I’m just going to go get another drink”
“Wait, Leah” grabbing her arm, you stop her.
“No I’m sorry just forget I said that” she says moving away from you towards the table.
Following after her you grab her wrist this time.
“Leah, I like you” you blurt out unable to stop yourself.
“I would hope so, we are friends” she gives you a sad smile.
“No, I said that wrong” you say looking into her eyes, “Im in love with you”
Leah looks at you flustered.
“Shit, I’m sorry, if you don’t feel the same way forget I said anything” You say repeating what Leah had just tried to tell you, wanting to run away and hide.
“You love me?” She ask, stepping closer to you.
“Just forget it” you huff looking away, now embarrassed.
“Hey, look at me” Leah says tilting your chin up so that you’re forced to look at her. “I love you too.”
You cant help the smile that appears, “you do?”
“Yeah, I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now” she says gently stroking your face, “I’ve just been too scared to say anything.”
“can I kiss you?” you find yourself asking.
Leah nods pulling you somehow closer to her. Your lips find hers, soft at first. Her hands find your hair, yours resting on her waist. The kiss deeps and you smile into it unable to help yourself.
“I love you” you say resting your forehead on Leah’s.
“I love you too,” she says.
You both jolt as your teammates applaud, startling you both. You blush as someone whistles.
“Finally” Katie says patting Leah on the back, the blonde rolling her eyes still smiling at you.
“I knew you could do it” Alessia says with a wink towards you.
Turning your attention back to Leah you smile, “I guess it took us both long enough.”
Leah presses another kiss to your lips, “Better late than never.”
525 notes · View notes
minty364 · 29 days
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DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 4
The living room and kitchen were deserted, neither Danny nor Jazz expected anyone as it was normal for their parents to essentially live in the basement only coming up for meals once or twice a month to ‘eat as a family’, these would consist mostly of fast food as no one trusted anything cooked in their kitchen.
They shared a glance as they opened the basement door and headed down. The dimly lit basement held the giant hole in the wall, the so-called portal, a massive metal spectacle with wires and interconnected circuitry met together to create an unholy abomination of science. Or at least that’s what Jazz called it once when they were in her room venting about the situation. 
“JAZZ!! DANNY!!” their overzealous father yelled as he bounded over.
Their mom walked over too, seeming to be happy for their return, “your father and I could barely contain our excitement all day!! Go on put on your hazmat suits.” their mom gestured over to the lockers that held the suits. Both of their parents' lockers tended to be quite empty since they practically lived in them, to the point where they had several copies of the same suits that they’d wash and reuse. Danny and Jazz only had the ones, Jazz had a nice dark violet color with black gloves and boots. Danny had black gloves and boots too but his was white to make it look like he was an astronaut, something that he had mixed feelings on. Both of these used to have a giant picture of Jack’s head on it but it was quickly removed by both siblings. 
They quickly put the suits on over their uniforms and joined their parents behind some glass near the portal. It wasn’t closed off or anything and Danny didn’t think it would be able to prevent something like an explosion from charing all of them but it’s hard to have faith in parents who've missed so much because of the stupid portal, or at least that’s how Danny felt. 
Jazz and Danny huddled together behind their parents as their mom did some final checks on a clipboard, “alrighty we should be all good, Hun you ready to throw the switch?” their mom asked their dad. “As ready as I’ll ever be!” Jack yelled as he threw down the switch.
A few sparks erupted from the portal but other than that nothing happened. 
Their dad, frustrated at this angrily tried turning it off and on again but nothing but another smaller spark and then truly nothing. 
Another low frustrated growl left their dad as he and mom walked back up the steps, “alright I’m taking a break.” Jack said, almost defeated, sounding, “I’m sorry but I really thought we had it this time.”
“Oh come on, Jack, let’s go out, I’m sure the kids were probably going over to the Wayne’s again anyways. Let’s go out and have a fun night then sleep on it.” their mom said, patting dad on the shoulder. They shared a fond look and then went upstairs probably to get ready. 
Danny and Jazz stood at the bottom of the stairs and shared a look.
“They gave up too fast again…” Jazz noted.
“I guess, what do we do now?” Danny asked.
“I’m still a little curious about the portal but I don’t want to keep Damian, Tim or Alfred waiting,” Jazz said with a hand on her cheek.
“We could invite them in, I know we haven’t before but maybe Tim would know how to get it working, he is pretty good with technology.” Danny reasoned. Neither of them really wanted to involve the Wayne’s in their family’s shenanigans but at this point they were all friends and Damian and Tim were bound to find out how weird their family was at some point anyways.
Jazz stood there seeming to think things over before she nodded, “alright I trust your judgment but we’ll have to be careful okay?” 
Danny smiled at her, “of course, what’s the worst that could happen?” 
This is what led to the four of them standing at the bottom of the stairs. Their parents had left about an hour ago. Danny and Jazz were still in their suits with Tim without one and made to sit with Jazz behind the glass and Damian and Danny planning to explore the actual tube.
“I don’t want to chance you getting hurt,” he said to her as he made her stand next to Tim.
Damian and Danny shared a look and nodded before heading into the tube. 
They looked around for a while but didn’t see much besides the interconnected wires on the floor of the lab. Damian took the right side while Danny took the left. They worked their way up and down the tube. Damian was a little ahead of Danny on their way out. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.
When they were almost out Danny lost his footing, his hand flying out in front of him. A soft click was heard and time seemed to crawl to a stand still.
Danny couldn’t stand the thought of his friend getting hurt because of him and he felt a rush of adrenaline. He ran as he felt a swirl of energy and electricity surround his body. 
“DANNY!! DAMIAN!!” he heard both Tim and Jazz shout as he reached Damian who was at the mouth of the portal.
A quick shove was all it took to get Damian, who had turned towards him at the sound of the shout, out of the portal. 
“DANIEL!!” he heard Damian shout as the portal activated on top of him, surrounding his body with swirling green.
Blinding pain shot through Danny, feeling as if he was being torn apart and put back together again and again.
He figured he was dying but at least he could protect those he cared about. He was able to shove Damian out of the portal in time, and Tim and Jazz were safely behind the blast glass.
He wouldn’t ever be able to fly among the stars as an astronaut but he was able to protect. His family and friends were safe and that’s all that mattered. 
He could allow himself to succumb to the darkness as the electricity and pain consumed him whole.
221 notes · View notes
nolita-fairytale · 11 months
Text
burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter two
summary: you decided to meet luca, taking him up on his offer to return the favor, and it gives the both of you the opportunity to get to know each other better.
warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.
word count: 2777
a/n: for an america's indepedence day, have a hot brit and a love story that takes place in denmark lmao. okay so now we're all caught up with what i wrote for the headcanon and boy do i have some surprises in store for you next. thank you so much for all of the reactions to chapter one and the headcanon. this story has weaseled its way into my heart and has taken over my brain. i'm writing it for me but it's nice to hear others are enjoying it too. anyways, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!
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chapter one | masterlist | chapter three
“You have to go!” Jesper insists with the kind of conviction of a damn good lawyer. 
“I don’t have to anything,” you reply, making sure to emphasize the word ‘have.’
“No, you have to go,” Mathilde chimes in, a little softer, a little kinder than her brother’s earlier encouragement. 
After your post-shift meeting, everyone had gone home, save for the three of you – the Mikkelson twins cornering you about Luca’s thank-you-card proposition.
“Well, since you both keep harping on it, why don’t you come with me?” you suggest, in an attempt to shift the focus off of you. 
Your eyes scan their faces, trying to get a read on the both of them as Jesper and Mathilde exchange a pointed look, having the kind of non-verbal exchange that only comes from having shared every moment of their lives together.
“What?” you ask, looking back and forth from Mathilde to Jesper again.
“It wasn’t addressed to us,” Mathilde points out with a shrug, a sly look on her face. “It was only addressed to you.”
“Looks like someone has a crush,” Jesper adds with a smirk. 
“He doesn’t have a crush!” you protest without hesitation, your heart seizing for a moment. 
“A talent crush,” Mathilde reasons, knowing that anything more than a talent-crush would talk you out of going entirely. 
“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he did?” Jesper continues, much to both you and Mathilde’s chagrin. “I mean, when was the last time you got-, ow!”
Sharply cut off by an elbow to the rib, Jesper glares at his sister before returning his attention to you. 
“I’m just saying! He’s sexy. He’s a chef at one of the best restaurants in the world. You could do worse for yourself,” Jesper clarifies, earning another glare from his sister. 
He has a point, but you ignore it, because you’re not really sure if you’re ready to go there just yet. You think it over, and after giving it another moment, you open your mouth to speak again. 
“Alright, I’ll go,” you sigh in resignation, earning a few celebratory comments and gasps from the twins. “Are you both happy now?”
And that’s how – after at least an hour of stressing out about what to wear to a place like this – you find yourself standing in front of a closed restaurant on a day where almost everything is closed in Denmark. You’d settled on a pair of wide leg denim pants, a square toed boot appropriate for navigating the Copenhagen cobblestone, and a white and black striped sweater, slightly tucked into the front of your jeans that hangs loosely from your frame. 
Classic. Put-together enough for a two-starred Michelin restaurant on closed day. Certainly not a date kind of outfit.
Luca proves once again to be punctual as ever as he greets you at the front door, right on time. He wears a blue t-shirt that seems to emphasize his already intense blue eyes with a navy-colored apron layered over top of it. 
“You came,” are the first words he says to you, a wide smile spreading across his lips as soon as he sees you.
“Yeah I uh-, thank you. For inviting me,” you stammer, nervously searching for the right words. 
“Thank you for coming. Well, c’mon then!” he encourages, nodding towards the inside as he holds the door open for you. 
“Did you find the place alright?” Luca asks you, as you follow him. 
He leads you into the vaulted basement – the space that makes up the Danish-style, fine dining restaurant that’s been a leader in innovation. You follow Luca through the closed dining room, back into the kitchen, and then into the pastry room as you answer his question, mentioning that it wasn’t too long of a walk and that you found the place just fine.
As soon as you see what he’s been working on, it renders you near-speechless. You can see that he’s been hard at work – on his day off, no less – almost as if he knew you would come. 
“Would you like to have a seat?” he offers, gesturing towards the pastry bench. 
“Uh.. yeah. That’d be great. I-, um… thank you… again, for inviting me,” you answer, watching as he brings a stool over to it, setting up a little space for you. 
“Oh, it’s my pleasure. It’s really the least I can do. Think after this we’re uh… what 5 to 1?” he replies casually, in reference to the fact that he’ll only have fed you once in comparison to the amount of times he’s come to the restaurant. 
You chuckle, returning with a playful, “Well, I don’t think anyone’s keeping score.”
He sends a crooked smile your way, one that you know you’ll be thinking about for the rest of the week, before exchanging a laugh with you. 
“Just think of it as a thank you. For the great meals. For the hospitality,” he continues, as you watch him plate his gelee-focused dish. First the chocolate, then yellow, white, and green. A carefully tweezed wafer on top. 
“This is a shiso gelee with a chocolate mint ganache, finished with a thin slice of marzipan, and a caramel cracker. It’s from our current menu,” Luca introduces, walking you through the dish like you walked him through your crispy rice and trumpet mushroom dish. 
He pushes the plate-that-looks-more-like-a-pedestal towards you for you to try, his eyes meeting yours. Luca studies you carefully as you pick up the fork he’s set out for you, cutting through the gelee for your first bite. He watches as you scoop up a little of the ganache, making sure to get a bit of the cracker as well. 
You’re creating a perfect bite – one with a little bit of everything – just like he’d done with the first dish of yours he had a month or so ago. 
As you raise the fork to your lips, taking your first bite, the vibrant flavors hit your tongue with surprise and brilliance that you weren’t expecting. It’s somehow new, innovative, yet nostalgic all at once. 
“Oh my god,” you say with a sigh of pure bliss. You savor each and every flavor, taking your time with your first bite before continuing with: “It’s almost like-.”
“A minty snickers bar?” he offers up with a quirk of an eyebrow. 
“That’s exactly it!” you cry out with joy. 
He smiles proudly, “Yeah, it’s a nice dish.”
“So how long have you been doing this? Cooking…? Or have you done Pastry the whole time?” you ask, digging into the rest of the gelee. 
“About fourteen years… give or take. Started when I was a kid… just washing dishes… was a bit of a rebel…. The kitchen gave me a place to land,” he shares with an ease and charm that makes you feel like you could tell him all of your secrets. 
“Yeah, no I-, I get that,” you agree, enjoying your second bite of Luca’s shiso dish. 
“Gave my mum a little peace of mind. That’s for sure. Don’t think I was an easy kid to raise,” he continues as you listen. 
“Didn’t start pastry till about three years ago or so. Went mostly the fine dining route… worked my way up to sous position at a really great place, but wasn’t interested in moving up the ranks in that regard. Decided it was time to try something different.”
You nod with respect for his decision for change. 
“Where’d you grow up?” you ask curiously, watching him wipe down the pastry bench with a clean towel as he begins to prepare for a second dish.
“London,” he answers. 
“Oh! I uh, lived there for a few years, actually,” you say, sharing a familiar smile with him. 
“What about you? Where’d you grow up? And how long have you been cooking for?” he asks, shifting the focus of the conversation to you. 
“Boston,” you reply. 
He hums in response, “I’ve never been. What was that like?”
“Boston is great. Good weather, great food, interesting people. ‘S actually where I learned how to cook. My mom’s a single parent so… I spent a lot of time at our neighbor’s house… and their restaurant. They still own this Italian restaurant that’s like… been in the family for a hundred or so years and I practically grew up there,” you explain, sharing parts of yourself – of your story – in return. 
“Oh yeah?” he asks, an amused look on his face. 
“Yeah, we hung out there a lot when we were kids – me and my best friend. Then when I was old enough to work, I marched in one day after school and pitched myself for a job, demanding that I cook and that I’d accept nothing less” you reminisce trying your best to recreate the bold confidence of your fifteen year old self.
Luca chuckles in response, “That’s incredible,”
“I was a rather precocious child,” you add, laughing with a fondness for that previous version of you.
He smiles, “Yeah, I know the feeling well.”
Luca clears his throat, pulling out a clean bowl and beginning to plate something new. He explains that this one is a savory dish, starting with a fermented sourdough cracker as he walks you through the flavor profiles of each component, mentioning that it’s got to be one of his favorites on the menu so far. 
“I’m up for sharing if you are,” you suggest, in response to his last comment. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.”
You watch as Luca picks up another fork, digging into the dish with you. There’s an intimacy that comes from sharing a meal with someone – eating off the same plate, enjoying the same sensory experience, quite literally breaking bread – that makes Luca feel less and less like a stranger to you with each bite. You still can’t believe that he’s done this for you – that you’re here – and while you’re not sure why, you lean into a softness, allowing yourself to enjoy it while it’s happening. 
“Did you go to culinary school?” you ask him, over your last few shared bites.
“No, what about you?” he replies quickly. 
“No, I actually majored in business,” you answer, earning a hum from him. 
“Huh…” he sounds, with a raise of both eyebrows in surprise. 
“I know…” you groan, with a playful eye roll more so directed at yourself. “My first career was in finance… account management. Then I did the whole investment thing for a while… it was uh… really sexy stuff, I know.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who would’ve been happy doing something like that,” Luca observes, only surprising you a little that he’d be able to pick up on something like that so quickly. 
“Oh no. I wasn’t. I was miserable,” you echo in agreement. You take a breath, and a beat, before explaining. “It was more of… a wish fulfillment thing, I think. For my mom. I mean, it wasn’t my dream, by any means. But having stability was important to me, to my mom…. To my partner at the time.”
“And now?”
You wait a beat before answering. 
“And now… I’m just… figuring it out as I go.”
Your eyes flicker over the ‘every second counts’ sign that hangs on the wall while Luca busses the table once again, sharing that he’s got one more dish he’d like for you to try. You settle into a quiet rhythm as you sit back and allow him to provide an experience unlike any other you’ve had. You watch him carefully as he moves around the kitchen prepping for his last dish, taking in each and every tattoo visible on his arms. 
“Every second counts,” you speak out loud, returning your attention to the sign. 
“Yeah,” he nods, turning his attention to where you’re looking. “It’s uh-, something an old head chef of mine used to say. Really stuck with me.”
You nod in agreement as he pulls out a final dessert plate. 
“‘S actually what brought me to you,” he continues, in reference to the sign. “An old friend of mine called me for a favor. He’s opening a new restaurant and wanted their patissier to come stage here for a bit.” 
Luca begins plating his final dish using a few pastry rings, a clean pair of tweezers, and berries left macerating in a deli container with a laser focus that you’d expect from a pastry chef at a two-starred Michelin restaurant.
“We got into… this whole conversation about inspiration. How to find it. Where to find it. I told him he’s gotta be open… to everything. To things out there. That that’s how you succeed in this industry – how you set yourself apart,” Luca adds, impressing you with his precision of plating while sharing something so personal. 
“It reminded me that… it’s been a while since I’ve opened myself up to… well… anything outside of this place.”
“No, yeah, I totally get it. It’s easy to get lost in it – it being the four walls of your restaurant. Running a restaurant is relentless. One minute you put your head down and the next…” you empathize with him. 
“It’s three weeks later.”
“Yeah.”
“Which leads me to why I asked you here,” Luca segways, as he finishes his final dish. “I ran into a little bit of writers’ block – or rather, chef’s block, if you will – working on our Summer menu.” 
He presents the dish towards you, earning a gasp from you as you take in the stunning creation.
“Knew I needed to get out of here for a beat. Get out of my head. Get some new perspectives.”
“Is this for your new menu?” you ask, your eyes devouring the cake-based dish first. 
“Maybe… just something I’ve been working on – something that’s been floating around in my head a while,” he shrugs, watching you carefully as he tries to search your face for any kind of reaction. 
You dig your fork into the spongey, tea-soaked, circular layered cake, raising it to your lips and immediately finding pure joy as you taste it. 
Yuzu. Earl Grey. The cake is almost like a lady finger – tiramisu-like in the way that it eats – filled with a yuzu curd in between each layer of cake, then finished with what you can only assume is a sort of black sesame dust that he’s sifted over top of the dish. 
“Woah,” is all that comes out of your mouth.
“Yeah?” Luca questions, unable to hide the smile that spreads across his lips. 
“Yeah uh… Why does this feel so familiar? It’s like… you’re reading my mind with this one,” you ask, your eyes wide savor each note. 
“Well, it should. Feel familiar, that is. It’s inspired by you,” Luca explains, treading carefully around the last few words. 
“What do you-?” you begin to ask, before the words leave you. 
You half expect him to tell you he’s joking, and you can’t tell whether or not it’s a blush running across his high cheekbones that you spot, as he turns his attention elsewhere. He begins moving around the kitchen, eager to begin cleaning up after himself to recover from the sheer vulnerability he feels from sharing this with you. 
Was this why he’d invited you here? 
“Luca,” you say, your words stopping him as he turns back to you. 
“What’s up?” he asks, so casually, as if he hadn’t just called you his muse. 
"All of this... you did all of this for me…. Why?" you muster up the courage to ask, the words falling out of your mouth with a weight you don’t expect. 
He takes a beat, afraid of coming on too strong, considering you’ve only just met, yet wanting nothing more than to tell you the truth.
Luca sighs, choosing the latter, before laying it all out on the table.
 "Your food is inspired and I don’t think I’ve had something this inspired in a long time,” he explains before pausing. “Your passion for Italian cuisine… weaving in the bits and pieces of yourself and approaching it from different culinary perspectives? You inspired me.” 
He takes another beat. 
“And as chefs, this is what we do. We feed each other." 
You’re speechless, but you can feel yourself nodding in agreement as you mumble out the most reverent ‘thank you’ that you can muster. You can feel it – that this is the beginning of, well, you're not quite sure what – but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.
“Luca?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for sharing this with me.”
He nods, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. 
“Cheers.”
809 notes · View notes
katelynnwrites · 9 months
Text
The Kinda Love That You Only Find Once In A Lifetime (The Kind You Don’t Put Down) | Sydney Lohmann
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warnings: too much fluff
word count: 1122
summary: sydney isn’t your girlfriend, she is so much more than that
a/n: here you go @wosofanstuff, part two to All I Know Is This Could Either Break My Heart (Or Bring It Back To Life)
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You laugh, eyes sparkling as you glance at Sydney.
‘Stop that.’ Laura grumbles.
‘Stop what?’ You ask in confusion.
‘That. The thing you both always do.’
‘What thing?’ Syd chimes in, just as confused.
‘Ugh I hate you both.’ The blonde complains, huffing and crossing her arms in frustration.
Giggling, you reach over to take another piece of leftover crust off your fellow Bayern Munich player’s plate.
‘See! That! That’s what I’m talking about!’ Laura exclaims.
‘What?’ You laugh again, in between bites of Sydney’s pizza crust.
The training staff had decided to give the team a little treat, in reward for the game won but Laura seems to be unhappy, or at the very least annoyed by yours and Syd’s eating habits.
‘You’re eating her pizza crust.’ Laura states.
‘And? I like crust and Syd doesn’t. This way her pizza crust doesn’t go to waste.’
It’s a simple explanation that makes complete sense to both you and Sydney.
‘God you’re both insufferable. You’re more married than Svenja and her wife and they’ve actually been married for years.’ Laura finishes as she gets up and walks away.
Both you and Sydney break into a fit of laughter.
International camp is always a lovely time and you thoroughly enjoy spending time with your national teammates even though they frequently tease you and Syd.
But you don’t care about that anymore. In fact you stopped caring a long time ago.
You reach out to hold Sydney’s hand and she eagerly intertwines her fingers with yours.
This moment does not go unnoticed by Kathy who is sitting opposite you and your favourite person.
She had stayed quiet during the Eintracht Frankfurt player’s exchange but now she speaks up, ‘Laura’s right. You both act more married than any other married couple I know.’
Sydney blushes and mumbles, ‘No we don’t.’
The VfL Wolfsburg player scoffs.
‘Yes you do. You drive each other’s cars, live and cook together. You share clothes and take turns spending the holidays with each other’s families.’
Now you’re blushing and Kathy eyes you suspiciously.
‘What is going on with the both of you? We never talked about that camp in Miami, a couple years ago but you two were remarkably different after.’
Both you and Sydney shrug at the same time, causing Kathy to roll her eyes.
‘I’m with Laura on this one. Put us out of our misery and just get married already.’
The Bayern Munich player chuckles and fires back, ‘I don’t have a ring yet!’
Your older national teammate scoffs in mock disgust, following Laura by leaving the table.
She joins another across the dining room and you grin at Syd, ‘We’re making all our friends tired of us.’
‘I’m okay with that if it means that I get to be with you.’ Sydney answers easily.
‘Me too.’ You breathe and she kisses the back of your hand affectionately.
You finish up the remaining piece of Sydney’s pizza crust in companionable silence.
Then you dust off the crumbs and lean your head against her shoulder.
Sydney wraps her arm around you immediately. The familiar gesture is both calming and reassuring.
You break the quiet first and ask, ‘So what kind of wedding do you want sonnenschein?’
Syd’s eyes are wide with wonder but she manages to sound only mildly surprised when she replies, ‘But like I told Kathy, I don’t have a ring yet.’
‘Liar.’ You murmur teasingly.
Sydney raises her eyebrows in question and you laugh.
‘The ring is hidden in your spare kit bag. I would be offended that you intend on giving me a ring that you keep together with your smelly boots but really, I don’t care where you keep it. I’ll wear it proudly anyway because I love you.’
Your favourite person’s jaw drops open in shock but you simply smile at her and continue, ‘I don’t think I want a church wedding, it’ll be too formal. Should we have a garden wedding? Or maybe a beach one?’
It takes her a moment but she soon returns your bright smile.
‘I don’t care. As long as you’re the one standing next to me and saying I do, I’ll marry you anywhere.’
‘Really though. You don’t have any preferences?’
‘A beach wedding does sound nice.’ Sydney admits and you hum thoughtfully.
‘We can start looking at venues once we’re back home?’
‘I’d love that.’
Syd’s hand finds its way onto your thigh and she begins drawing small patterns onto it. She can’t stop grinning and neither can you.
Out of nowhere, Laura drops back down into the empty seat beside you.
‘What are you both smiling about? It better not be some lovesick are they dating or are they not thing again.’
Your soon to be wife’s hazel eyes meet yours and you know she is asking a silent question.
Her eyes say, ‘Do you want to tell them? It’s your call.’
You answer both her and Laura at the same time, ‘Sorry to disappoint Laura but we were discussing our wedding. I guess that counts as lovesick.’
‘Your wedding.’ Laura echoes absentmindedly before it truly hits her.
‘Your wedding?!’
‘Yep.’ Sydney chimes in, popping the ‘p’.
‘Like you and Syd?’
‘The only woman I would ever want to marry yes.’ You state.
You keep your tone light and casual, Sydney squeezing your thigh gently in response being the only action betraying just how emotional the moment is.
She’s smirking at the blonde and it takes great effort on your part to not laugh.
Laura lets out a loud scream, causing the entire dining room to come to a standstill.
‘What the hell? I hate you both!’ She yells.
Alex quickly comes over, concern and worry written all over her face when she asks, ‘What’s wrong?’
Laura refuses to respond and both you and Sydney share a laugh.
‘Nothing’s wrong. She asked what we were smiling about and my fiancée said our wedding.’
‘Your wedding?’ Poppi blinks.
‘Mhm.’ Syd nods.
‘As in you?’ The older woman points.
‘Yes me.’
‘And her?’ Alex points again, this time at you.
‘Yes her.’ Sydney grins.
For good measure, the hazel eyed woman pulls you close and presses a brief kiss onto your lips.
That seems to allow the news to sink in for the rest of your national team because they all start cheering.
They rush over to where you and Sydney are sitting, offering suprised hugs and congratulatory words. The room is full of laughter and an infectious kind of happiness.
Amidst all that, you hear Svenja raising her voice, ‘I thought you said she isn’t your girlfriend!’
You smile to yourself.
Sydney is not your girlfriend. She has always been so much more than that.
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German Translation:
sonnenschein - sunshine
300 notes · View notes
fruity-mega-coconut69 · 6 months
Text
Back In Your Arms Again {pt. II}
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[pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
[summary]:Tara sighs and closes her eyes, trying to keep her  tears in as her lips tremble. Why did I even think she’d wanna talk about it?stupid.
[warnings]: my writing, but other than that nothing else
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You, Zhanna, Andrei and Bao are sitting in their kitchen, having dinner and talking about random stuff until Andrei speaks up -as he was pretty quiet until now-. “So, Y/N..” He starts and all of you turn to him. You cock your head to the side, awaiting his question. “Are you… or are you not moving in with us? Cause like, you taking your sweet time deciding and it has been a while so you must’ve made a decision by now.” Andrei raises his eyebrows while looking at you as he puts down his fork.
“Well, I mean I already told you guys that I don’t wanna be a burden and I’d rather suffer with……….Tara” You swallow thickly while avoiding Zhanna’s gaze.
“OH come on!” She exclaims. “You  can’t be serious! That bitch doesn't deserve you, not even your presence!” Zhanna huffs angrily while looking at you.
Bao sighs and places a hand on Zhanna’s forearm. “Babe,  calm down. She didn’t say she forgave her, she said she’s willing to share a dorm with her. Not the same thing.” She tries explaining to Zhanna who’s still glaring at you. Zhanna just huffs again and looks away from you, deciding to glare at the table instead.
“Yeah, Z. And if I really can’t tolerate it anymore, I’ll come here. First thing” You try reassuring her to which she responds with only another huff and a turn to the side. You shake your head softly while sighing deeply before getting up. “Speaking of… I need to get back. By this hour she’s probably asleep which gives me enough ‘me’ time in the dorm.” Andrei raises his eyebrows at your statement to which you only react with a roll of your eyes before going around and hugging everyone then saying goodbye before walking out to the streets.
Although it’s only November, the streets of New York City are covered in snow. The snow that's currently crunching underneath your boots as you walk.
After a good 20 minute walk, you found yourself back on campus and walking to the dorms. Once you’re at your door, you stop and stomp a little to get rid of the remaining amount of snow on your boots before hesitantly opening the door. As you step in, you see -to your dismay- Tara by her desk. You suck in a deep breath and that’s when she looks up.
“Y/N. Hi. Where’ve you been?” She asks, turning to you as the orange light of Tara’s desk lamp illuminates on her face.
You blink once. Twice. And three times before answering her while turning to take off your winter coat and boots.
“I don’t see how that’s your concern and business.” You bluntly blurt out, walking over to your wardrobe and taking out your pajamas.
Tara huffs and bites her lip. “Why not?” But, oh, she knows all too well why not. But, nevertheless she still asks, which results in you turning to glare at her before storming into  the bathroom. Tara watches with sad eyes, biting her lip before shaking her head and looking back down at her book.
About half an hour later, you return from the bathroom and sit down on your bed while drying your hair with a towel. You stared at the back of Tara’s chair for a while before speaking up. “ Did ….Chad come around today?” You say his name almost like it’s a disease. One that can not be cured. A virus that can not be killed.  
Tara pauses her reading for a moment before looking up at you. “No. He didn’t”
You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but that kind of relieved you. You let out a small ‘hum’ of acknowledgement.  Tara looks at you a minute longer before looking back down at her book. The atmosphere is awkward. The tension can be cut with a knife as silence falls upon the two of you.
The silence only lasts about 3 minutes before Tara speaks up.”So, I know we have a lot to talk abo-” Before she can finish her sentence you cut her off.
“Night, Carpenter.” And with that statement you turn off the lamp on your bedside table and lay down.
Tara sighs and closes her eyes, trying to keep her  tears in as her lips tremble.
Why did I even think she’d wanna talk about it?
stupid.
Tara thinks to herself before swallowing thickly and letting out a shaky sigh. Her head turns to the direction of your -now- sleeping form. You have always been fast to fall asleep. Her eyes scan your body before shaking her head and looking away as she gets a text. She looks down at her phone.
Chad 😊💕
-hey, Tar. You up?
Tara sighs and hesitates before texting back. 
Tara 🤭
-yes. why?
Chad 😊💕
-wanna meet up? 😎😉
Tara feels her jaw clench as she looks at the screen. Ever since you’ve been living in the dorm, she’s seen Chad less and less. She knew why. He knew why. Even you knew why. And Chad is still trying to save what’s worth saving. And..maybe Tara should, too. But she just couldn’t bring herself to. Not when you’re a part of her life again. She’s not gonna let go this time. She’s gonna keep holding you until she physically can’t anymore.
Tara 🤭
-no. sry. Have to study for midterms.
Chad 😊💕
-okay.  that’s fine.
But then again, are you going to try coming back to her again? Do you still think about her when you’re alone? Do you still think about that night?
Cause she does. And even Chad can’t bring her mind to peace about it. How could he? He wasn’t even there, nor does he care enough.
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A/N: again, it has been a while which I'M sorry for. also this is really short but since you guys wanted a part 2 (me too), here it is.
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corroded-hellfire · 2 years
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Wrong Crush - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie thinks Will has a crush on you. When he doesn’t believe your protests, Will decides it’s time he’s let in on a secret.
Note: This really just came about because Will Byers is my son and I love him with all my heart and want to protect him from the world. Also, Will totally would have had a crush on Eddie. 
Warnings: platonic!will byers x reader, language, coming out, i think that’s it?
Words: 3.2k
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Eddie’s second favorite thing in the whole world was Hellfire Club. With the first being you, obviously. Even after, finally, graduating from high school, Eddie still got together with the guys once a week to play DND. Dustin kept the game going at school, but it was a whole different level when the guys played the game with Eddie.
Friday nights became Hellfire nights for the guys, and you and the girls would have a girl’s night. Whether you had dinner, went to a movie, or just hung out at someone’s house having wine, it was a nice night for everyone. Eddie would always come home to your shared apartment with a smile on his face, telling of either the valiant effort it took the guys to beat his campaign, or of his success in defeating the gang.
But lately, Eddie would come home from Hellfire nights in a less-than-happy mood. You’d ask if something was wrong, but Eddie would always deny. You knew, though. He wasn’t his happy self.
One Thursday, a day before the beginning of the next campaign, Will came by after school.
“Are you sure?” you ask him as you sit at the kitchen table. You cup your coffee mug in your hands and lean in towards him.
“No, I’m not sure,” he says with a shrug. “But it seems like he is. It’s not like I’m going to come out and ask him, though.”
“Why don’t you try to hang out with him?” you offer. “Does he like DND?”
“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “He’s a baseball player. Total jock.”
“So, what makes you think he’s gay?” You didn’t want to sound harsh, but you couldn’t stand the thought of Will getting hurt.
Will runs his hands over his hair and sighs. “Just like…a feeling, I don’t know. All these girls want to go out with him, but he never wants to. He’s quiet when his friends talk about dating.”
“You’re eavesdropping on his conversations, huh?” you ask with a smirk.
“Shut up,” Will says as his cheeks turn red.
“Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” You reach across the table and take Will’s hand in your own. You’ll never forget the heartbreak Will went through when he revealed his feelings to Mike. Thankfully, they were able to put it past them and continue to be best friends, but Will had been severely depressed. Will still wasn’t out to everyone, but you were one of the lucky ones he trusted with his secret.
“I know,” Will says.
The front door opens and Eddie walks in, grease and oil smudges on his white t-shirt.
“Hey, babe.” He kicks his boots off and comes to a halt when he sees Will at the table. His eyes snap to your joined hands. “Hey, Will.”
“Hey, Eddie.” Will smiles and bashfully pulls his hand out of yours. “I was just heading out.”
“Oh sweetie, you don’t have to,” you tell Will.
“No, I better get home for dinner. I’ll see you later. See you tomorrow, Eddie?”
“Yeah, sure thing.” Eddie smiles at him but you can tell it’s forced.
“Bye!” Will calls as he walks out the door.
You take your cold coffee mug over to the sink while Eddie washes his hands.
“What’d he want?” Eddie asks.
His tone makes you frown. “Why’d he have to want anything? We’re friends.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says sharply as he shakes water droplets off his hands, eyes searching for a towel.
You hand him one and scowl. “What is your problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.” He roughly dries his hands before tossing the towel on the counter. You watch as he stalks over to your bedroom, tension tight in his back and shoulders.
“Could’ve fooled me,” you say as you follow him. “Bad day at work?”
“Nope,” he tells you as he strips his shirt off. His eyes won’t meet yours as he pulls on a Metallica tee. He goes to walk out of the bedroom, but you step in his path.
“Babe, come on,” you say. He sighs and you place your hands on his chest, rubbing softly. “When have you ever been able to lie to me? Hmm? Come on, talk to me.”
Eddie drops his head forward and lets out a groan. He takes a deep breath before raising his head and meeting your gaze.
“Will has a crush on you.”
It takes everything in you not to immediately smile and laugh, telling Eddie how wrong he is. But you manage to compose yourself and nod your head a few times, thoughtfully.
“What makes you say that?”
Eddie gently places his hands on your hips and tugs you closer. “Every week in Hellfire he talks to me about you. He’s always hanging out here. And every time I come home, he gets all flustered and leaves.”
And what else could that all mean? You think to yourself. With a deep breath, you lean forward and press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.
“Sweetheart, Will does not have a crush on me,” you assure him. “He’s just comfortable talking to me about things that he isn’t comfortable talking about with other people.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you,” you say. “They’re not my secrets to share.” Eddie huffs and sidesteps you, exiting the bedroom. With a groan, you follow him into the kitchen. “What, you want me to betray his trust? What kind of friend do you think I am?”
“You’re just not listening to me,” Eddie says. “I’m uncomfortable around him now. I know to us he’s just a kid, but what if he thinks it could be more?”
“Eddie.” You walk forward and take his face in your hands. “Is this why you’ve been grumpy coming home from Hellfire?”
He nods and rests your forehead against yours. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m not jealous, I swear. I just don’t want him having a crush on my girl.”
You peck his lips and wrap your arms around his middle. “If you promise to be nice to him tomorrow night, I’ll talk to him.”
“Deal.”
What you were going to say, you weren’t sure.
 On Saturday, you pick Will up from his house and grab burgers for lunch. You go to the park, away from other people because you don’t want anyone else to hear what you’re going to talk about.
“I talked to him at school,” Will tells you. “In biology class. Told him I liked his Hoosiers shirt. I only knew what it was because of Hop.”
“Good! I’m glad you worked up the courage.”
As much as you knew Will, he knew you just the same. He could tell something was on your mind and would do anything he could to help you with it.
“What’s up?” He asks.
You sigh and fold up your burger wrapper. “I’ve got a problem.”
“Anything I can do?” Will asks.
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Oh, come on,” he says with a smile. “I doubt you could ever do that.”
“Eddie thinks you have a crush on me.” Better to rip the Band-Aid right off. Will’s face drops and his eyebrows pull together.
“Why would he think that?” He asks.
“Because you talk to him about me at Hellfire. You come over and hang out with me and leave when he gets home.”
“W-Well, that’s because-.”
“I know. I know, Will,” you say. “I told him you didn’t, but he doesn’t believe me.”
Will drops his head back and balls up the fast-food bag in his hands. He lets out a long, loud groan and flops down on his back.
“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.” You lay down next to him and reach over for his hand. He laces his fingers with yours as he stares up at the sky.
“Will he hate me if he knows?”
“Oh, not at all.” You sit up straight and lean over so you can look him directly in the eyes. “He knows about Robin, and you’ve seen them together. Thick as thieves. He doesn’t care who she loves, and he won’t care who you love.”
“Promise?” Will asks. There are tears in his eyes, and it breaks your heart. You want to punch anyone who ever made him feel, or anyone who ever will make him feel, like he isn’t worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of friendship, worthy of respect.
“I promise.”
“I don’t want to lose his friendship,” he says quietly.
“You won’t.” You bring your joined hands up to your mouth and press a kiss to his knuckles. “He loves you, Will. He’s just irked right now because he thinks you’re moving in on his turf.”
He cracks a smile, and you breathe a sigh of relief. With your free hand, you pat his chest a few times.
“Nothing will change if he knows. I guarantee it.”
“Okay,” he says. “You can tell him, then.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you or forcing you into anything.”
“You’re not. Eddie’s my friend. He’s a good friend. I would’ve told him eventually, anyway. But I don’t want him to be upset with you. Or me.”
“Honestly, the first time he sees you after he finds out, he’s probably going to give you the biggest hug ever and everyone is going to look at him like he’s crazy.”
Will laughs and sits up. “That’s okay, I like hugs.”
“Good. Because you’re about to get another one.” You pounce on Will and knock him back down to the ground. He laughs and squirms as you snake your arms around his chest. “Just let me hug you!”
“You’re squeezing me!” he shouts between bouts of laughter.
“It’s how I show my love!”
“Poor Eddie.”
You sit back up quickly, jaw dropped, as you stare at him.
“William Byers, was that a dirty joke?”
He looks up at you with wide innocent eyes, cheeks pink, and shakes his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You lean back down to tickle along his ribs, causing him a new fit of laughter.
“Eddie’s going to have to teach you some dirty jokes because that one was pretty tame.”
 When you get home from dropping Will off, Eddie is sprawled out on the couch, a can of beer in his hand.
“Is that sports I hear on the television?” you ask as you set your purse down.
“Most guys spend Saturdays watching football and drinking beer. I figured I’d try it.”
“And?”
“It fucking sucks.” He picks up the remote and turns the television off before walking over to join you in the kitchen. “Who cares how far some guy can run the ball down the field? What does it matter if Florida State University beats the University of Florida? It’s a game and it’s stupid.”
“I know, baby,” you say. “It’s not an important game like DND.”
“Yes, exactly. You get me.” He rests his head against yours and you let out a laugh at your boyfriend’s dramatics. Anyone who knew you as a couple knew that you weren’t the drama queen in the relationship.
“So, how did it go with Will?” Eddie asks.
“Good,” you tell him. The kitchen table is behind you, and you lead Eddie over to it, your knee knocking into one of the matching blue chairs on the way.
“What’s up?” Eddie asks. You lean forward, arms sprawled over to Eddie’s side of the table. He takes your hands in his and pulls them up to his mouth to breathe hot air on them when he finds them cold.
“I talked to him,” you say.
“And?”
“Eddie, he did not and does not have a crush on me. I wish you would’ve believed me,” you say.
“Princess, it’s not that I don’t trust you. Or think you’re lying to me. It’s just kind of what the evidence led me to believe.”
“Well, it’s not true. And to prove it even further, Will has given me permission to tell you one of his secrets.”
“He has?” Eddie looks surprised and a little flattered.
“Why not? He said you’re good friends.”
“We are,” Eddie agrees.
“Alright then.” You grip his hands in yours and make sure he’s paying attention to you. “Well, how I knew with such certainty that Will doesn’t have a crush on me, is because he couldn’t. He doesn’t have crushes on girls, Eddie.”
Eddie’s face screws up in confusion. “What? Like, does he think they still have cooties or something? He’s eighteen, right?”
You snort out a laugh and shake your head. “No, baby. I mean, yes, he is eighteen, but he doesn’t think girls have cooties. He just doesn’t like girls in that way.” At Eddie’s still confused face, you continue. “He doesn’t like girls the way that you do. Or the way that Steve or Mike do. He likes boys, like how Robin likes girls.”
Understanding dawns on Eddie’s face and his eyebrows raise so high you think they’d disappeared in his hair. “So, he’s gay?”
“Yes,” you say, weight taken off your chest.
“Oh,” Eddie drawls, as if this clicks pieces of a puzzle together for him.
“And now he’s worried you’re going to think differently of him once you know.”
Eddie frowns and shakes his head. “I would never do that.”
“I know, that’s what I told him,” you say.
Eddie shrugs. “I don’t care who he wants to be with. As long as it’s not my girl, it’s fine.”
“You’ve gotta still treat him like one of the guys,” you tell him. “The last thing he wants is to be treated differently. He’s still the same Will he’s always been.”
“I will, I will, don’t worry.” Eddie stands up from the table and opens the fridge, eyes scanning on what he could make for dinner.
You watch him. Nothing in his demeanor has changed. He doesn’t look more tense, actually the opposite. He’s relieved there was a simple explanation for what was bothering him. Eddie frowns into the fridge though, before closing it and turning to you.
“Wait,” he says. “But that doesn’t…explain why he’s always talking to me about you at Hellfire. And why he gets all flustered when I come home. Unless all your conversations before I come home are about his sexuality, which I doubt.”
“I mean,” you say, your voice an octave higher than you meant it to be. “There’s an explanation for that as well.”
“Do I get to hear it?” Eddie waits with a hand on his hip, leaning against the refrigerator door.
“Okay, so,” you start as you stand up from the table. You’re trying to come up with the right words to say and Eddie takes this to mean you’re stalling. He urges you forward with a hand motion, and you roll your eyes at him. “So, at Hellfire, right? Who’s he talking to?”
“Me,” Eddie says.
“Mhmm. And you said he gets flustered when who comes home?”
“Me.”
You raise your eyebrows at him, and he shrugs.
“Are you going to get to the point?” he asks.
“Oh, God,” you say as you rub your hands over your face. For such a clever man, he wasn’t always the quickest with picking up emotional clues. “Okay, so there’s two people who live in this apartment. Will has a crush on one of them.”
Eddie’s face scrunches up in confusion. “But you just told me- oh.” Eddie’s face changes so quickly that it makes you laugh. From confusion, to raised eyebrows as he takes in this new information.
“Huh,” he says. He pushes off the refrigerator and takes the few steps over to you. “So, he thinks I’m hot, huh?” The self-satisfied smirk on his face makes you roll your eyes.
“You tease him about this, and I swear to God, Eddie-.”
“Hey, hey, hey. I wouldn’t do that.” His face still looks self-satisfied even if the smirk has fallen off. “Just means he has good tastes.”
“And what, he didn’t when you thought he had a crush on me?” you ask, crossing your arms.
“Now sweetheart, this isn’t about you,” Eddie placates playfully with a pat on the top of your head. He knows he’s winding you up, but he also knows that you’re aware he’s just goofing off.
You glare up at him. “You’re the worst. Let Will spend a week with you and these feelings go away. He’ll have complete focus on that baseball player at school then.”
“Aw baby,” Eddie coos as he wraps you up in his arms. “Don’t get jealous. You know I’m not into guys, and Will is a kid, so you’re stuck with me. Forever and ever.”
“Jealousy isn’t the word I’d use,” you say, staying still as he squeezes you in his grip.
“What word would you use?”
“Annoyed.”
Eddie lets out a bark of laughter and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
“You’re just thrown off because now there’s someone who thinks I’m the hot one in the relationship.”
“I’ve always thought you were the hot one in the relationship!”
“Mm, well you’re wrong.” He leans in for another kiss and this one is far less chaste. “Always been you,” he mumbles against your lips.
“Alright, sweet talker,” you say. “It’s time to put up or shut up.”
Eddie scoops you up into his arms and plops you down on the bed before you can even let out a laugh.
 On Monday, Will comes back over after school. He wants to make sure that the conversation with Eddie went alright.
“He spent all of yesterday telling me how bad he felt for getting upset when he thought you liked me. If we had the money, I swear he’d buy you a car just to ease his guilt.”
Will laughs and takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m relieved. Not just that telling him went okay, but that another person in my life knows. It seems kind of daunting that I’m going to have to tell the people I care about for like, the rest of my life. But you telling Eddie kind of took that piece of the burden off me, and I’m thankful.”
“You don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to, whenever you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s all your call. It’s your life so you get to call all the shots when it comes to that.”
Will smiles gratefully at you before the front doorknob starts to turn. Eddie steps inside and grins when he sees the two of you there. It’s a nice change from how the last few weeks have gone. You’re just praying Eddie doesn’t say something stupid as he drops his keys and comes over to the table.
“Can I hug you?” Eddie asks.
Will looks like he might cry if he opens his mouth, so he nods instead. He stands up and Eddie pulls him into a bear hug. You know how tight those squeezes of his can be, and that he reserves them for the moments that call for them. This was certainly one of those times.
Eddie pulls away and places his hands on Will’s shoulder. He looks Will straight in the eye and gives him a smile.
“Still love you, dude. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Will nods through a tearful smile and Eddie pulls him back in for another hug. You wipe away a few tears of your own as Eddie smiles at you over Will’s shoulder.
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prettyboykatsuki · 8 months
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ROTTEN FRUIT, CHERISHED SWORD | TARTAGLIA / AJAX
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✮ tags ; fem!reader, dead dove: do not eat, yandere!childe, genshin canon adjacent, stalking, force, mild depictions of violence / physical struggle, mild injury, delusion, obsession, forced intimacy (one instance, not nsfw just kissing), choking, blood (reader bites), small age gap, power imbalance / power struggle, reader is a street orphan + member of the fatui 18+
✮ wc ; 6.3k 
✮ a/n ; thank you to the beloved @bitchkiss for commissioning this from me and allowing me to post!! had a lot of fun with writing it. i have a few left of my first round but i hope to open them again soon.
✮synopsis ; childe can’t tolerate the fact you’ve left. he has no intentions of letting things stay that way.
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It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared together. Childe recognizes this with a bitter sense of irony. The soft spritz of oil from a ripe orange stains his fingers, noiseless and fragrant as it tickles the back of his throat.
You’re formal to the very end. You’re standing across from him, between you his desk (though it feels like miles) with your badge sat on the glazed cherry wood. Spick and span, so shiny it borders dazzling even though you’ve been wearing since you started so many years ago. Like you’ve taken care of it with honor, even though it’s not much more than a carved hunk of metal. 
You bow your head first, then give the Fatui salute in a well-practiced steady motion. Childe keeps peeling the orange. Childe looks down at the desk and stares indignantly at your badge. 6 years together, and you’re leaving him. 
He clenches his jaw, and he can feel some of the blood in his veins make his nerves throb. 
“Thank you for everything, Captain,” Your voice is smooth as you speak, not a hint of devastation in it “From today on, I will no longer be serving the Fatui Harbingers.” 
He finishes peeling his orange and discards the peel in a nearby bin, before sitting on the edge of his desk. He blinks, feeds himself a slice of fruit, chews and swallows before talking. He’s worked hard. It calms his nerves to go through each gesture slowly. He shouldn’t ruin it like this, even though the anger building inside him stokes every time you talk. 
“Pierro has approved your dismissal?” 
“Yes, Captain. Due to my great contribution to the Fatui and my involvement in the early seize of Snezhnaya, I’ve been permitted permission to depart.”  You repeat, still not lifting your eyes to look directly at him. You’re focused on his steel-toed boots, a mark of your life as a soldier “I’ll be issued a new identity and sent somewhere overseas.” 
“And what do you plan on doing once you leave?” 
“I’m hoping to look for my master.” 
“You mean the man who taught you the sword?” 
“Yes, Sir,” You reply, voice softening. How agitating it is you hold so much affection for that worthless old man “I owe him a great deal. I’d like to contribute something of my savings towards his living expenses,” 
“Well aren’t you loyal? I commend your efforts to be searching for him so many years later. Any leads?” 
“No Captain, none,” You say, and then another wave of emotion passes through you “But if my memory serves me, he’d be living somewhere in the jungles of Sumeru.” 
“What an odd change of pace,” 
“He never liked the cold in Snezhnaya.”
Childe gives you a tight lipped smile that you don’t catch since you’re still looking down. He sighs, words muffled as he eats another slice and clicks his teeth. 
“Still so impersonal with me,” He chastises, pushing his bottom lip out in a frustrated pout “After all we’ve been through together. Lift your chin up, at least?” 
This is the only thing that gets you to look at him. You do as he asks without hesitation - not out of submission but loyalty. Your smile is small, humble, thankful. Childe feels strange looking at it. Your usual coolness fades, tapers itself into a warm and graceful set of features. It’s worn. 
Your joy is weathered and battered, bruised by countless atrocities.
 In more ways than one, it’s the thing Childe loves most about you. 
Childe knows the details of how you’re stained. Like a toddlers plush toy that goes everywhere with them, it is easy to tell that something has happened to you. But, to be loved is to be changed, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with being different. So long as it’s him making you different. So long as he’s the one who orchestrates it, enough to bend but never enough to break. Childe knows you. It’s the job of a captain to train his soldiers. It makes his feelings towards you more potent, how well you can endure even the worst of it. You’re not timid, not fearful.
 Your eyes are as crystal clear with honesty as they were the day you met. 
Even bruised, even anguished, even tortured - there is something about you—so stark in your earnesty. You remind Childe of the fireflies he’d seen in the lands of Sumeru some time ago. To keep you in a tight glass, sealed off from flying far from his reach. The brightness that seems to surround you makes him reach for you even in the bitter dark. He’d never want to suffocate you so he pokes holes in the lids. Lets you breathe, lets you see the world outside of glass. 
If a firefly spends enough time in captivity, glass walls can become religion. A widely accepted belief, indoctrinated certainly. There’s something to see but nowhere to go. That’s always what he wanted you to believe. 
Had it all been for nothing in the end? The thought is sour, makes his mouth tighten like he’s swallowed rotten fruit. 
“Sorry, Sir. Force of habit. I really am very grateful to have met you. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.” 
“And yet you abandon me like this. I’m really hurt, you know? Didn’t what we had mean something to you?” 
You crack a pleasant smile - it’s a rare right, and it’s always genuine. You’re usually icier than the blizzards in Snezhnaya, the same neutral expression has stayed on your face for as long as he’s known you. You’ve been like that since you were 17. Back then you were much more hardened. He doesn’t blame you. A street urchin, robbing and stealing for food and shelter. Childe knows the story like the back of his hand. 
When you met for the first time - your hair was cut short and your clothes were so baggy. It was impossible to tell back that you were a person, no less a woman - you felt like one entangled body of anger. 
The Tsaritsa would’ve killed you had you not shown such great prowess. Underneath all the filth was a vision. A vision of Anemo, and incredible precision in wielding the ways of wind. 
You’d gained useful skills during your time on the streets. But you were unpolished and violent. The Fatui watched you like a storm cloud lingering over the horizon. A typhoon waiting to swallow the world the minute you had the chance.
Back then, Childe wasn’t fascinated with you in the way he is now.  You were just a brat he had to train. Pierro had put you into his possession on the basis of Childe’s cruelty. It was an endurance test and Childe had always believed you would fail. He’d put you through countless trials, each one more merciless than the last. Your expression never faltered, never changed, never suffered.
The first time Childe noticed you was after the death of your comrade. You were 18 then and it was the first time you’d ever lost someone you’d been attached to. The expression you wore - rough, hard, emotionless, crumbled into pieces in front of him. You cried at a shallow grave, the first and last time he’d ever seen such an expression in his life. Back then, he only comforted you out of curiosity. What exactly would you do? 
But you braved your face. Despite all he’d put you through, you bore no resentment towards him at all. You’d wiped the tears off of your expression and looked at him solemnly. Silent but thankful and terribly honest. 
It’s that honesty that drew him towards you. 
You were angry, sure - but your righteousness made you different. Unlike the many street rats lurking in the Fatui, driven by money or greed - you were driven by simple things. You hated owing favors. You could be polished into something beautiful. Something interesting, more so than the rest of Fatui goons that flitted around him like gnats.  
He’d spent the last 6 years doing just that. Not always intentionally, but always careful. 
You’ve grown into something beautiful - poised while being unruly. A mortal paradox that he’s grown to be more fascinated by each passing year. He’s taken time to know the things that make you tick. 
Yet you're leaving. He didn’t chain you by the neck fast enough in his attempts to be careful and now you’ve taken your own leash and walked right out of his grip. A shame. Childe is really so hurt by such a thing. 
He doesn’t let it show on his face of course. You’ll be remorseful if you see him, but the pity won’t soothe his feelings this time. He has to remain calm so he puts on this delightful act to hide the hurt.
“I suppose you do mean a lot to me, Captain. In a different way.” 
“Well,” He steps towards you, but you don’t back away. The proximity, strangely, doesn’t bother you. You are only this permissive towards him, and he counts it as a minor celestial blessing. He doesn’t know if you trust him that much or if you are simply naive. Maybe both. Maybe neither 
“What way is that, pray tell? Maybe it will soothe my sorrows.” 
“Well, you’re the only person I truly knew and admired. If that counts for anything,” You flush when you tell him this “My master was a great man but all things considered he was more like a father. But I really think very highly of you and your abilities, Sir.” 
“What a nice girl you’ve become.” He says back, just to see the startled flush on your features “Isn’t that something?” 
You make a face at him, displeased. It almost distracts him from how irritated he feels when he remembers why you started with this conversation in the first place. 
“You talk about me like I’m a kid,” You show him just the slightest bit of attitude. It’s a step in the right direction, sends a chill up Childe’s back that he doesn’t dislike in the slightest “I’m all grown up alright? Don’t look down on me.” 
He gasps in faux offense “I would never. It’s strange, you know? You’ve changed a lot. I don’t hate it though,” He gives you a once over - hands you a slice of orange. You lean down and grab it with your teeth, chewing and swallowing. 
It’s those little acts of naivety that draw him to you most. 
“When are you meant to depart, my dear subordinate?” 
“Probably within the week,” Your voice is just a touch somber. “After I’ve got everything moved, this may very well be the last time we see each other.” 
“It’s a shame then, really. I would’ve preferred being your comrade for much longer than this.” 
“We’ll always be comrades, Captain.” You salute him one more time, this time with a smile “I’ll never be able to forget you.” 
“You’d better not.” He says with a deep sigh, making you laugh. 
Yes, it’s not as if Childe was ever really going to let you. 
__
You disappear from his sight in an instant. 
The first few weeks after your absence, Childe buries himself in his work. Pierro praises him for his sudden loyalty to the harbingers - but carrying orders is the only way he can work out his frustration without taking it out on civilians.
He plans from the day you leave to find you eventually. But he knows from the start it’ll be no easy feat. The nature of the business is that relocations are hard to come by and top-secret. If someone is to relocate and change their identity, no one in the Fatui knows where they end up. The only person who’s informed about the drop off locations is Pierro, and it’s not like he’s going to hand that information to Childe regardless. 
But that’s different from knowing exactly where you’ve relocated. You’re a smart girl - too clever and too familiar with the Fatui to let them handle something of such importance. Your agreement was this: new money, new documents, new identity - but re-establishing your life would be completely and totally up to you. It makes sense. You’ve gained an incredulous amount of enemies in your time working in Childe’s care - and the matter of relocation is a delicate one. Most of the Fatui are deeply hated across Teyvat. 
You’d have to relocate somewhere small where you can make use of your skills or survive on your own. If Childe knows you at all, you would’ve chosen the latter. A self-sustained life where you don’t have to depend on anyone unnecessarily suits you well. After all the blood and gore you bore witness too, isolation was like a second skin. 
From the minute you disappear from his line of vision - Childe thinks about finding you. He thinks about what he’ll have to do to make it reality, and what will happen when he does. The  minute you’re within his reach, he won’t be foolish enough to let you go again. 
There won’t be any concerns about morals or abuse of power - this time, Childe will possess you completely. 
Pierro tells Childe: There's a recruitment mission, it will take up to a year and you’ll be traveling all over the world to carry out various orders. 
It’s bait. Pierro just wants Childe to get his hands dirty, and he knows that the 11th won’t be able to resist the temptation of finding you. Childe agrees despite knowing this. There is no order he can’t fulfill, no thing he can’t commit too - if it means there’s any chance to find you again. 
If it’s for you, he can do anything. 
___ 
For months, Childe soaks his hands in blood trying to find you. 
Cheap intel is easy to come by but reliable intel is not.
His first mission in Mondstat. A small nation and one of peace - it’s difficult to stir up any trouble there when Diluc is around. Childe does his best to steer clear of him, since there’s no group the Dark Knight detests so much as the Fatui. 
Recruitment in a small, quiet nation happens in slums. Orphanages are prime for this endeavor. A proxy pays a fee for adoption prices and word of the Fatui spreads through the darker corners of the city. Once the word of their presence spreads far enough, another message follows. The Fatui will pay greatly for intel. They’re looking for a woman in her early 20’s. If the information proves reliable, you’ll be paid a hefty sum. 
Mondstadt, the city of peace, lives up to its name. The Fatui occupation of the slums doesn’t disrupt anything in the local government. It’s inline with Pierros orders. There’s something important about the city according to the Tsaritsa. 
Of course - none of this is especially important to Childe. Once his role has been fulfilled, every minute is spent chasing leads and following trails to whichever path leads to you. It’s a compulsion. Each time he receives a knock on his office door, he feels his pulse rise all the way into his throat. He knows objectively that most leads are worthless - that people are simply trying to squeeze money from the Fatui in order to survive. 
The piercing, celestial anger doesn’t settle with all the objectivity in the world. No amount of searching seems to lead back to you and his patience is already dangerously thin. 
Of course Childe knew embarking on this endeavor would not be fruitful all at once.
Your speciality had been stealth from the beginning. If anyone knew how to disappear into thin air - Childe would first think of you. It doesn’t soothe him. Knowing it will be difficult to find you, and knowing especially that you don’t want to be found - none of it soothes the bone deep ache for you. Each night he carves the desire out of him, it won’t help him in his journey to carry. 
But each morning, there’s a bruising sensation in his ribs that reminds him of the wound process. Each night he bore the injury of loss and there is nowhere for him to find evidence of it happening. Only the aftermath, and more pitiful breadcrumbs that he tries to trace back to you.
Childe chases the tail light of a firefly across every corner of Mondstadt. He turns over each chipped brick of dilapidated buildings, hunts down every one who even knows your name or any of your features. He rifles through cheap shot intel and thins out the swarm of greedy idiots through beatings.
Among the cheap dirty tricks, he finds one lead. From a child, no less - a boy who isn’t any older than 13.
 In his office, two Fatui drag in a pair of siblings.  
“I know who you’re looking for,” He says, slow and careful - on guard. There’s a little girl trembling behind him, shaking like a leaf. A big brother, through and through “I have proof.” 
Childe takes interest immediately. This little boy reminds him of you, crystal clear eyes. Truthful. Childe leans on the edge of his desk. 
“Proof? What, like a picture?” 
“N-no,” He swallows. He reaches for something inside of his cloak, and the guards immediately stand to attention. Childe puts his hand up telling them to stand down. When there’s no longer any threat, the boy pulls something out of his pocket. A piece of paper with something drawn on it, and a coin within it. 
Ah. The paper bears your signature, and the coin is yours too. To be more clear, it’s a coin relocated agents are permitted to carry once they depart. It’s a signature of honorable dismissal, and a promise from the Tsartisa guaranteeing your protection in case of more Fatui encroachment on the land. There’s an honor system. It’s rare that dismissal even happens given the nature of the organization. Agents with outstanding records get three total. 
Childe can hardly believe it. But he does, because it’s you - and it’s something you would do. It’s not like a 13 year old boy would be able to coerce it out of you. It’s yours. You gave it to him. 
Childe grips the coin into his hand. There’s a lingering presence. He closes his fist around the metal, paper crumpling underneath before kissing his closed fist. 
“When,” He takes in a sharp breath “When did you receive this?” 
“A few weeks ago,” He replies, visibly relaxed now that Childe seems to recognize its legitimacy  “She s-stayed with me and my sister for a while. And protected us. Nobody messes with us anymore. She s-said that if the Fatui come, to give them this and they won’t bother us.” 
“And you’re trading it in for money, you precocious brat?” Childe says with no real malice in his voice. The kid stiffens, but he can only laugh in reply “Well, I’ll respect the young lady's wishes. I like kids, after all.” 
Childe makes eye contact with his underlings, and they salute him. 
“Give them as much money as they ask for. And issue them another coin, but make sure it’s one of mine. I’ll be keeping this one,” 
They speak in tandem “Yes, Captain.” 
“You should be very grateful, kid.” Childe says, reaching his hand out. He’s in a good mood, hands patting the heads of both kids. 
“You’ve experienced something truly invaluable, and it’s brought you great fortune. Go give prayer to your Archon for the blessing” 
__ 
He traces your steps back to Liyue. He only knows this after interrogating those kids for a long while. Liyue is the easiest route to Sumeru, so Childe mostly works on a hunch. 
He likes Liyue. It’s easy enough to recruit there since the Fatui already have a foot in the door, and beyond that - the citizens are warm if you’re respectful. 
“Excuse me, maam,” Childe waves a hand at the woman working at the fruit stand near the harbor. An older woman and Liyue local, with gray hair and warm eyes “Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?” 
The woman pauses from her task, squinting her eyes momentarily before humming. 
“Sure, sonny, I don’t see why not,” She replies, continuing on with her work “Are you a foreigner?” 
“Yes, ma’am I am. And I’m looking for someone who I heard passed through here recently.” 
“Oh? Who’re you looking for?” 
“A young lady. Early 20’s. A bit rough and about ye high,” He says, vaguely gesturing to your height. He gives a little bit more detail on your features and the woman listens to him carefully before her eyes widen with realization “Sound familiar?” 
“Oh, her!” The woman smiles, sitting behind her set up with a knife in hand. She grabs a melon from her stall, balancing it on a cutting board. She wets her knife with water and wipes it, the reflective metal shining in Childe’s eyes as it goes through the fruit in one solid push. “Yes. She stayed here for weeks, though I don’t have any idea where. She came in every morning to buy something from me.” 
“Could you tell me a little more about it?” Childe urges, trying to mask the desperation to know in his voice. The old lady hums pleasantly “Anything about her or where she might be headed?” 
“Well, she said something about Sumeru,” The old lady relays, cutting the melon into thin slices - ripe and sweet “She had thought about visiting Fontaine, but decided on just Sumeru for now. Said she was looking for her Father. How do you know that young lady, might I ask?” 
“A friend from childhood,” Childe relays, a half truth and lie of omission. He dawns an expression of embarrassment and sincerity.  “I’ve been looking for her all of my life.” 
“Well, aren’t you quite the romantic? Was she your first love, dear boy?”
“Yes. Something like that. I had heard she was in Mondstat and then she came here, but it seems like I keep missing her. And I don’t want to lose sight of her again, after all we’ve been through.” 
The old woman's features soften, as she holds out a piece of fruit for Childe to take. He accepts, taking it graciously and with a soft word of thanks. 
“To be young again would be a gift indeed,” She sighs wistfully “I admire your tenacious spirit. I’m sure you get  a little closer to finding her each time you search. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure you will.” 
Childe takes a bite of melon. It’s rich, mostly sweet and the slightest bit sour. The juice dribbles down his chin, and coats his mouth with the not-quite satisfaction. Sweet, but not sweet enough. Close but not close enough. 
“Did she mention anything else?” He asks, wondering for more details “Or leave anything behind?” 
“You sound like you miss her,” She says brightly before shaking her “Forgive my memory. The only thing I can remember was that she was preparing to settle down. She took seeds and supplies with her. After that, I didn’t see her again.” 
“How unfortunate. But if she plans to be in Sumeru, then it seems like I have to go find her there,” 
“You won’t be staying here long then, young man?”
Childe reaches the last of his slice, wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand. 
“I don’t think so. But I’ll return someday. And if I find her, well,” He gives her a smile, picking a peach off of the stand and dropping a bag of Mora on the table “I’ll make sure we both come and thank you.” 
__ 
Sumeru is Snezhnaya’s opposite. 
In composition, in sight, in taste and in sound. The sweltering heat of the jungle, the plush of green, the wildlife that lays among the thickets. In all the ways that Snezhnaya is cold and precise, Sumeru is warm and bleeding. Each corner of the great nation bleeds into self. Culture bleeds into art and art bleeds into politics and everything is threaded together like vines of ivy through metal grates.
They are foreign lands to Childe. He’s spent his time across the world in other nations, but not Sumeru. The other Harbingers occupied it for years before Childe had the chance - and he does his very best to not trifle into Dottore’s territory. 
(There is memory of another harbinger, like the faintest whisper of a ghost.)
But he can’t be sure of that. All he knows is that it’s his first time spending any time there for longer than a few days. It’s his first time there on a mission, to spend time among its people and make deals with the other mercenaries that roam both the desert and forest. 
The Fatui are not particularly fond of the Eremites. Unlike other groups, there is no easy way to subordinate them. There are more intricate hierarchies and laws among them, laws of survival that do not cross over well to the Fatui. The Eremites have an honor system that many Fatui find foreign.
 It’s not impossible to find common ground - but it’s difficult. If they are to stumble upon the wrong group of Eremites, they could very well end up in a losing battle. Sand is much like snow. If you don’t tread carefully, if you aren’t prepared - one step could leave you buried beneath soil before you could think twice. 
There is one thing that both Eremite and Fatui bastards share completely, and that is greed for power and wealth. 
Recruitment in the Sumeru region is difficult. But any information can be found if your pockets are heavy enough. They’re an efficient bunch since they don’t require much training. 
Childe will have to look at his own books later. How much time, money, manpower he’s allocated in his relentless search for you. How many mountains he’s climbed, how many fights he’s gotten into, how much trouble it’s been. Mora is nothing, but altogether - your disappearance has cost a hefty price. 
Still, you were telling the truth - as was the Eremite who found your new location, and the woman in Liyue who sold you fruit and the orphan boy who held your signature. 
A trail of your very own light, the feeling of a cool breeze - everything that Childe has worked for has ultimately led him back to you in the bleedings lands of Sumeru. 
A few weeks ago, he received new intel from an Eremite he’d recruited at the beginning of their stay. A 17-yr boy with a gift for the sword that had no particular loyalty to any other group of Eremites. A capable loner. Childe’s mission was simple - 
(“There’s a woman you must find. 
If you find her, I’ll give you anything you please.”) 
Like a miracle, in 3 weeks time - the same recruit had returned to Tartaglia’s door with a photo of you. 
(“You…you found her.” Childe mutters. He’s overwhelmed with too many emotions for anyone to show on his face. “Where?” 
“In the jungle.” The boy says, voice cool and neutral “It looks like she built a shelter for herself and stays there. She wasn’t anywhere near the city,” 
“No wonder it’s been so difficult to find you.” Childe mutters to himself before looking back up again “Can you lead me there?”
The boy rifles in his bag for something. A parchment paper that unravels to be a map with a line drawn on it. 
“I thought this would be easier.” 
Childe holds the paper in utter disbelief, staring at the line draw. A path forward to you.) 
Last night, he departed alone into the jungles and followed the path carefully. The map was well marked with rest points and stops, and it wasn’t difficult to trek it once he was outside of the city. He’d gone alone with nothing but the clothes on his back. Eager and impatient, restless to find an oasis in the desert that has been draining the life out of him since he’d arrived. 
Childe finds you at dawn. The sun has to rise completely but the world is lit, soft blue encasing it like a blanket. Off the beaten path is a cottage - a shelter built from jungle wood with a small animal coop and a garden. There’s a single light on in the kitchen, and enough windows for him to see what’s inside. 
Many things overwhelm him once he catches the light on your face. You must’ve been awake for a while, because there’s no sleep left on your expression. Nothing but clarity, brightness, familiarity that Childe must’ve been searching for months now, maybe half a year. 
The world feels like it’s stopped moving for him to take a step forward. It’s dark enough that a firefly draws past him, and Childe feels his body move nearly against his will. 
He walks through the mud, through the dirt and grass - following the path to your door until he’s towering in front of it. He stands at the wood for a long, long while - in silent contemplation, before a sick sense of joy flutters through him. 
A sense of sickness that parades around in his mind. Almost childlike. It’s been a long game of hide and seek, but Childe has finally found you. 
He knocks on the door, lets each hit ring before he stops. And he waits. 
You open the door without questioning it. Perhaps there’s someone from in town who visits you often enough that you don’t think to question it. Either way, you open it.
And when your eyes land on Childe’s expression, everything shifts. 
He can practically feel the immediate apprehension. The confusion that you can’t make sense of, the feeling of bitter dread. Childe knows you like the back of your hand. Knows every little detail of your discomfort. You’re more confused than you are concerned for now, and your eyes are brilliantly honest like they’ve been from the start. 
He’s giddy. The pure sense of euphoria is entangled so deeply with months worth or frustration, and he’s wound so tight he can’t help but grin down at you. You blink at him. 
“Captain?” 
“Comrade,” He says, voice a touch light “How have you been?” 
He doesn’t offer you any more explanation than that. You stare at him and he stares back, greedily at the sight of you. He’s missed you, really - missed everything about you so much it feels like some part of him is ticking, preparing to detonate. You step back and Childe nearly steps with you. 
He’s worried it will scare you off, so he refrains. 
“What are you doing here, Captain?” 
“Well,” He says first, contemplative “It’s a long story. Could I come in first?” 
“Oh, of course,” You reply, because you presume it’s something important. You trust him enough to let him “Please, come in.” 
So he invites himself in. You direct him to a small dining table with two wooden chairs. There’s sliced Zaytun peaches sitting on a ceramic plate. You pour Childe a glass of water hospitably, before sitting across from him with a look of concern. It’s easy to tell what you’re thinking - that there must’ve been some reason for him to come find you and that it must be important. You’re waiting for him to tell you that and soothe his nerves. 
But being with you now, he finds he harbors no such desire. He eats a peach off of the plate in front of him. They’re sweet to the point it makes his teeth hurt. 
He gives you a stare as you look back at him, and the two of you sit in uncomfortable silence. 
“I’m glad I finally found you,” He says conversationally, looking down at his hands as he speaks “You didn’t make it easy, you know?” 
“...You were looking for me?” 
“Looked all across Teyvat for clues. I expected that, though. You were always good at disappearing when no one was around to see, comrade and I admired that about you,” Childe says with a sigh, shaking his head “I was very devastated to see you leave,” 
“So you went searching for me? Why?” 
He laughs hard as you ask him that, he almost can’t help it. 
“Well, that’s the thing,” He says, taking another piece of fruit. Relishing the sweetness, almost as warming as the sudden proximity between you two “After all the years I’d spent crafting you into an excellent soldier, I thought it’d be a shame to let you disappear,” 
He looks at you. Watches as your face changes. 
“All those times I’d saved you, been a mentor towards you, taught and trained you. I’ve watched over you for so long and cared for you so fondly, and you disappeared just like that. I try not to be too bothered by things,” Childe laments, leaning back in the wood chair “I’m a patient man, for the most part. I’m an older brother, so I’ve always tried to be responsible. But there are some things I like to keep for myself,” 
“...Captain, what are you talking about?” 
Childe stands to his feet and walks over to you. The feeling of fear starts to build in you, mild but present in your vague tremble. You falter. He can tell from the way you stand. You must feel that something is wrong and your eyes show your distrust. Childe can’t stop peering into them, can’t stop searching for your every feeling wishing to pull them out of you and examine them.  
He pulls away the chair behind you, letting it fall to the floor. He backs into you slowly, into the wall behind you where you stand underneath him. You’re afraid - tense, but not unwilling to fight. 
“Did you think,” He whispers, voice filled with satisfaction “That every time I saved you was a coincidence?” 
He stares down at you. Your eyes widen. 
“I was just so fascinated. You can be really innocent sometimes, it's just adorable. But you’re also extremely direct and brutal. Naive but also completely trusting. I’ve never met a ruthless mercenary who was so forgiving.” Childe reaches for a piece of your hair, bringing it so carefully to his lips “I’ve come to love that about you. I just wanted to see if you could really endure all that. And you did beautifully. Really.” 
“What the fuck are you saying?” 
“When Valentin and Ilya died, you came back so crushed but your eyes,” Childe says, peering into them - hand reaching up to your cheek. You try to push him back. He feels the force in it - but he’s stronger than you by a lot where it matters “These eyes stayed the same. Clear and bright. A gaze that only spoke truth. It was mesmerizing. I’ve always been fond of beautiful things.” He says wistfully. 
You push back. Your strong enough that Childe can feel the weight of you movements as you try to get away from him. You think of many clever moves, like going underneath him. You’re quick but he’s quicker. He pins you against the wall, cages you in with his body - his legs locks yours so you can’t use your knees. He traps you, just like he always wanted too. 
It feels better than he could’ve pictured. 
“I didn’t plan for them to die so brutally,” Childe begins, his voice against your ear. He can feel how your heart races through your skin, the painful pulse of each of your nerves as anger torrents inside of you. “I knew they were underskilled. I thought they’d only come back injured, but I was wrong. Torn to bits right in front of you. When you came back I thought you were completely broken but,” 
He looks down at you, and you look up. There is burning, violent hatred in your unchanging gaze. He smiles at you affectionately, and it jars you enough that your own face changes in response.
“You looked at me with this same expression. Melancholy but crystal clear. You can’t help it can you? Not in the slightest. Time and time again, you came back and suffered tremendously but  that never changed about you,” Childe whispers against your skin. Lets his lips brush against your neck, and your bare shoulder. He feels your body move hard trying to get him off of you, but you remain in place “One day, you’d get exhausted. And when that happened, I would help you. Take you into my own care. You could do whatever you wanted as long as you were with me. That was the vague inclination” 
“You sick bastard.” 
“But you ran,” Childe says. He releases you momentarily, trades his body in for a hand around your throat. You claw at him but the pain is easy to endure. “All that effort, and you decided to disappear. I was so annoyed with that, you know? I love you after all. Enough to empty every well of resources to find you. I searched for you in every corner I could look.” 
With gloved hands, Childe hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth before hooking the other one - prying your jaw open completely. It shocks you enough to render you helpless - motionless as your hand rests on his forearm. When your mouth is open, he uses one hand to keep it that way. His gloved fingers violate your mouth, thumb brushing over the ridges in your teeth. He grabs your tongue with his thumb and forefinger, pressing it slightly like he’s reprimanding you. It’s warm and hot, making a chill run up his spine. 
“But I won’t make that mistake again. From here and now, I’ll make sure you never leave my side. And with you next to me,” He presses his lips to your cheek while your mouth is pried open. He can feel your teeth dig into the sliver of skin exposed from his glove, biting hard enough that it punctures and bleeds. Childe is unfazed by it, almost a little fond at how hard he can feel your canines digging into his leather gloves “From now on, everything you do should be with me at the forefront. I’m being a little selfish, but it should be alright, yes? You’ve been under my command for a longer time, so you’re used to it.” 
“Captain,” Your words are muffled by his fingers in his mouth, a touch sad - a touch betrayed, but not terrified. Angry like you want to kill him. To rip him apart with your teeth but too confused to do so much as move. Not scared of him despite everything that he’s just admitted. And your eyes, of course, remain unchanged “You fucking bastard. You rotten fucking bastard, they were—” 
He pulls his fingers away from your mouth, cupping your face in his hands instead. Your reaction is refreshing. 
“Kiss me, won’t you?” 
Your response is to bite but Childe catches your mouth anyway. He holds your chin and keeps you under him and kisses you hard. He lets his hands circle around your waist, completely ignoring all the attempts you make to run. He kisses you, and your mouth tastes like blood. His blood, mixed with the faint taste of peach. Iron and sugar, perfectly entangled in the soft, warm heat of your mouth. You kiss like a dream. 
Your cold stoicism melts under the weight of your shock, and you’re so startled you give in only slightly. Childe kisses you in apology. Childe kisses you because he loves how dreadful you find it. Because no matter how much it disgusts or sickens you, he can’t help but be addicted to the feeling of your lips and skin. He’s sure the coming months will make this newly explored affection a most miserable vice. 
He wraps around a hand around your throat again, teeth nipping along your cheek before kissing the indentation of his own canine. His other hand clamps around your wrists, pinning them above your head as he cages you in once again. 
“I’m not an opponent you will ever be able to best unless the Archon’s themselves come to kill me,” He whispers, faint and loving as he makes sure to look you in the eyes.  “So stand down, soldier - and let your Captain lead you to paradise.” 
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awillowdryad · 8 months
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To Love Is To Be Vulnerable ~ Peter Pevensie
Okay, so I've never let anyone ever read any of my fanfics before but I've decided once and for all to take the plunge and share some of my scribbles! Hope you like it!
Just a disclaimer: This work (and the title) is inspired by a quote by CS Lewis. I just want to be clear that this quote isn't mine. I was only inspired by it. I also reference a Tennyson quote - this isn't mine either! I also drew some inspiration from That's When by Taylor Swift. :)
Summary: The Reader is engaged to Peter during the Golden Age but is facing doubts and fears over their relationship.
Word count: 1.5K
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death
~
“Are you saying that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”
Y/N exhaled, grappling for the right words as she faced her husband-to-be. “No, I…I just…I need some time…some space…to think about all of this.” 
“Oh…okay.” He toed the floor with his boot, before lifting his head to peer at her beneath his golden fringe with such solemnity that she nearly caved right there and then. “I-I get it. I’ll still be here.”
He gave her a weak smile. Y/N thanked him and turned away quickly before he could see the tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. 
She had almost reached her chambers when she rounded a corner and nearly flew headlong into Edmund.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed as they both tried to apologise at once. Then he caught sight of her face. “What happened? Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” she gulped, “I just-” 
Unable to summon any excuse, she bolted for her door, leaving Edmund entirely nonplussed as it banged shut. 
She sank down against it, tears coming on quite freely now that she was safely alone, heart in turmoil. She didn’t even want to think about what Peter must be feeling - she couldn’t think of him - mustn’t. She knew my words had been hard to hear and even harder to say.
Y/N looked down at the ring on her left hand and twisted it around her finger, touching the large jewel set in its middle. Peter had given it to her a few months ago- on a balmy summer evening so romantic she’d swooned every time she thought about it after- before he had gone to war. Before she had experienced the agony of waiting and wondering, nights when she’d cried herself to sleep, the tears on her pillow her only comfort, unsure if she would ever see his face again, not knowing if he was dead or alive. He had promised the battle would be over in one. After three he still hadn't returned. Everyone in Cair Paravel had begun to doubt his ever returning, until he had reappeared, dishevelled and sporting a few fresh scars, but victorious.
She had managed to join in the celebrations, plastering a smile on her face that didn’t match her feelings. Oh, she was happy to have Peter back, that was certain. It had been the greatest relief of her life when he turned up at her chambers the day he returned. But now that heavenly love that had consumed her was embedded with fear.
Laying her head back against the hardness of the door, she opened her mouth and let out a sob. She loved Peter more than words. But how could she condemn herself to a life of torment, of that hideous, unbearable feeling, every time he went to war? It was unavoidable as king, especially High King. And he was a good king too; he put himself on the frontline of every conflict, every problem. But there was not a thing she could do to protect him. She would simply have to sit back and let him go every time battle called.
Peter had soon realised that something was not quite right with her after he returned. And that was when she’d had to tell him - look into his beautiful blue eyes and tell him what she was feeling. Their wedding day had been set for a date now less than three months away, but Y/N was beginning to doubt if she could face a love filled with such risk. Their marriage - once so joyful and hopeful a thought - was now tainted by these claws of fear. 
Oh, she just couldn’t face loving him only to lose him!
~
Days passed. Every morning Y/N woke, Peter’s face was conjured up in her mind. He was always laughing in the image - his face splitting to release his glorious laugh - but privately she shed many tears as she went about slowly getting ready for breakfast.
She would catch him watching her over meals, his eyes gazing upon her with an unspoken ache before she would quickly look away. They exchanged pleasantries under perfect politeness, but there was a gaping chasm between them. Yet under the guise of it all was the fact that Peter had respected Y/N’s wishes and given her the space she’d asked for, which only made her love him more. 
One morning she was sitting in the upstairs library. She was surrounded by books, but there was not a thought of reading in her mind. She simply sat, seeing but not really seeing, her mind paralysed over a golden haired king.
The door gave a familiar creak, ripping her from her inner turmoil. She looked up. It was only Edmund.
He came in silently and sat down across from her, peering at the title of the book on the table. Y/N idly returned to her misery.
“So, how long have you been sitting here pining over him?”
She started. “Pardon?”
The corner of his mouth tugged into a wry smile. “Oh come on, Y/N. We all know that you and Peter are on a slight…hiatus.”
She shook her head. “It’s not what you think. It’s just…” She studied him, wondering how much to tell. Something about Edmund always made her longing to tell him her problems just so she could get his verdict. “I’m scared that…if I marry him…one of these days he’s going to go to battle and never come back.”
She looked away, blinking hard, having never expressed it in so many words.
He was quiet for a moment. “You’re afraid of getting your heart broken?” He didn’t sound accusing, only sympathetic. 
“Well…yes. Yes, I suppose that’s it.”
Edmund smoothed his hand over the arm of his chair, forehead sporting his thoughtful expression. “You know, any kind of love holds an element of risk.” He went on. “Love requires a certain level of vulnerability.” 
“What-what do you mean?”
“Well, you can love no one and nothing, put your heart in a box and protect it from ever being broken. Or, you can be vulnerable, love without restraint and chance the danger of getting hurt. But it’s up to you to take that risk, or risk being stale forever.”
Y/N stared at him. “But…but isn’t it dreadful to take the risk -of loving someone- and then lose them?”
Edmund smiled. “But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?”
She was silent, her mind whirling. He had totally got her there. She stood and walked to the window, overlooking the castle gates. Peter was just outside. She watched him interacting with a young centaur, her heart thumping. 
And suddenly, the storm in her mind stilled. The ache ceased and the gnawing in her chest faded so at last she could feel her own heartbeat, gentle and rhythmic.
“Oh, thank you Ed!” she cried. He only smiled to himself as she bolted from the room.
She flew along the castle hallways, down the marble staircase, and out the main door, nearly colliding with a servant carrying a basket of oranges. “Oh! Sorry!” she exclaimed, helping her to right the wobbling mound of fruit, before rushing to the front gate. Peter was still there, just coming in. His head snapped up when he saw her.
Y/N ran to him, skirts flying, and threw herself into his arms.
“Oh Peter! I’m sorry! I-” she halted, suddenly realising how hard it was to talk.
He laughed, that glorious sound filling the air for real this time. “Hey! Catch your breath for a moment.”
Gulping, she looked up at him. “I love you.” It came out breathlessly. “I can never stop loving you.” 
His face lit up as he grinned. “I love you too.”
She pushed herself against him, feeling his heart beat a steady, strong rhythm deep in his chest. “It was dreadful when you were away, I can’t pretend it wasn’t.”
He hung his head. “I know. I put you through alot.” 
“I can’t bear the thought of losing you, Peter.” She told him, “I couldn’t stand the idea of you going to battle again. But I don’t care now. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a small price for getting to love you.” 
He stared at her as though he was mesmerised. “Are you sure? I know it’s a big ask for you to be my wife.”
She nodded, eyes gleaming as she gazed at him. “I don’t like my life without you in it. I will love you with all my heart until my dying breath.”
He wrapped his arms around her then, hugging her so hard he lifted her off her feet, his face mushed into the crook of her neck. It was quiet, barely audible, but she heard his muffled whisper. “I love you so much. Thank you for letting me back into your heart.”
Y/N pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, unwilling to break any more contact than was necessary. “You never left it,” she whispered before she kissed him. “You have my heart always.” 
She knew it was true.
To love is to be vulnerable.
~
Well, there we go! Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think!
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wandanatsgf · 3 months
Text
Date Night & Murder
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Pairing: Villanelle x Reader
Word Count: 691
Summary: What a date night between two assassins looks like
“Oh come on,” you hear your girlfriend, Villanelle, say. Crimson liquid seeps out of your latest victim and onto the floor. It stains her new boots. “I just bought these.”
“I’ll buy you another pair baby,” you say, soothing her over for now. You look around the now dead man’s apartment, making sure you left no evidence.
“Oh please you owe me more than just a pair of boots. I’d like three…and maybe some drinks.”
“Fine,” you agree, not wanting to argue with the blonde woman. You double check everything before making your way to the fire escape. You climb down, making sure Villanelle is right behind you.
“Now come on, we need to go so we can change before the movie. I want to have the best seats,” Villanelle says once the two of you are on the ground.
“Of course you do. You only want the best. The best food, the best clothes, the best wine,” you ramble on, teasing her.
“I think you’re forgetting the most important one baby. I wanted the best girl and now I’ve got her.”
You can feel your heart melt for the woman.
“We’ll I can definitely say you got her and you got her forever.”
The two of you quickly walk back to your shared apartment. After quickly showering and changing, the two of you walk hand in hand out the door and towards the theater.
The walk there is rather peaceful, which surprises you considering who you're walking with.
"Ok you get the snacks and I'll get the tickets," your girlfriend says as you walk through the doors.
"Ok," you agree. You wait in line for the food and decide on a large popcorn and two soft drinks for the two of you. Just as you finish paying, your girlfriend walks up to you with the tickets in her hand. She takes the popcorn and her drink from you and hands you your ticket. You look down at your ticket and a look of confusion sets across your face.
“Oksana. You said this was going to be an action adventure movie. What about Minions: The Rise of Gru screams action?”
“Are you kidding me Y/n? Minions is full of action. And don’t act like you don’t wanna see it. I’ve seen you watching the commercials,” she retorts back.
While she’s not wrong, this isn’t the movie you were expecting to watch during date night. Not to get you wrong but being in a theater with a bunch of children doesn’t exactly scream date. But as long as you’re with V you’re happy.
The two of you walk hand in hand into the theater and take your seats, only after V not so politely asks two children to move. She really was serious about getting the best seats.
The two of you sit down just as the commercials start. You glance over at Villanelle and she is enthralled by the screen. It brings a smile to your face. After the hard life she's had, she deserves a little happiness.
The two of you munch on popcorn as you watch the screen. You laugh at the funny parts and (as ashamed as you are to admit this) you cry at the sad parts too. The movie ends all too soon as the credits start to roll and the lights turn on.
You move to stand up, but your girlfriend pulls you back down.
"That's it?" she questions.
"Yeah it's over baby."
"But I don't want it to be over," she pouts.
"We can always go see it again," you tell her.
"I guess that will work," she says. "But I want to come back and see it first thing tomorrow."
"Whatever you want baby," you say, trying to convince her to leave. She finally gets up and the two of you walk back to your shared apartment.
After you get home and into bed you look at the beautiful blonde next to you.
"What are you staring at baby?"
"You. You know I love you V, right?"
"I know baby. I love you too," she says. She pulls you closer into her and the two of you fall asleep just like that.
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