Halloween And Confessions

A Stark Legacy (1)

Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Summary: The life of a Stark is tumultuous, especially when you are the only daughter of the technology magnates. You find yourself at a crossroads, struggling to meet your father's towering expectations while also pursuing your desires. This turning point is marked by the arrival of a certain green-eyed girl, a meeting that not only disrupts your world but also sets your heart on fire. Will you finally follow your heart or conform to your father's expectations?

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2,333

The unmistakable aroma of salt invaded the air as the gentle summer breeze carried the scent from the ocean. The gentle scent filled your lungs and reinvigorated your body as you took in the picturesque image before you. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the once-deep blue water began to take on new hues. The sky slowly turned from a bright blue to a deep purple, mingled with red, orange, and pink shades, creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Despite the roar of the waves, your senses are overpowered by the cheerful and lively chatter of the people around you as they roam in the spacious and meticulously decorated backyard.

Tables littered the well-maintained lawn, some with guests and others with foods ranging from fruits with chocolate-covered pretzels to charcuterie boards and sushi—anything you could desire. Not far away stood a cocktail bar with an impressive champagne tower. While the sun was out, there was no need for any lighting, but as it gave way to darkness, string lights hung all through the yard, taking over the task and creating an almost rivaling image of the sunset ocean.

An atmosphere not uncommon for you as the daughter of technology magnates Howard and Maria Stark. There, amongst the crowd, you could see your father engaged in an animated discussion with an investor. You rolled your eyes. Only your father would discuss business at your birthday party. It was a miracle he had even come, considering work outweighed his priorities as a father. His rare appearance at your celebration had resulted from your mother's persistence or, more so, threats of leaving her share of the company in Tony's control. Although you typically didn't mind his absence after years of disappointment, you were grateful for your mother's actions, knowing he needed to be there for what you had planned. 

Tonight, you would give him what he wanted and make him proud despite his faults as a father. Let him be the family man he so often played in front of the cameras—the picture-perfect family portrayed on magazine covers that photographers frequently complimented.

In reality, your family was anything but loving, specifically your father.  In the solidarity of your home, your father rarely showed affection, and when he did, it was always towards your mother. He only seemed to have harsh words and expectations for your brother and you. Though you had always resented your father's behavior, your mother and brother, Tony, compensated for his lack of love. 

Then there was your saving grace, your childhood best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. He was the son of your father's business partner and his mother, an associate in your mother's charity organization. So it wasn't surprising that you became best friends, attending the same boring gatherings your parents hosted and causing mayhem until your fathers scolded you.

Twenty years later, he remained by your side. His usual crazy brown hair was slicked back, and two of the buttons of his white shirt were left undone. The outfit was paired with black slacks, loafers, and a Rolex on his wrist. His blue eyes crinkled in joy as your gaze crossed, and he clutched your hand tighter while motioning with his chin at your father.

Across the room, your father moved to sit with your mother and brother. Perfect, you thought. You gave Bucky a final smile before you pulled away to join your family, and he made his way to the live band stage.

Your brother was the first to notice your presence as he set down his whisky drink.

"There she is," Tony exclaimed, inebriated. Your father clenched his jaw, throwing daggers at your brother with his gaze. "Are you enjoying yourself, birthday girl?"

"Damit, Anthony. Can you behave yourself for once?" he asked through clenched teeth, giving a false smile as someone passed by. "You are no longer a teenager. You are a man. Now act like one before I make you."

Tony scoffed, ready to retaliate, but your mother quickly intervened. She rubbed your father's arm, willing him to calm down.

"Honey, please. We are celebrating our daughter. Let us not taint this moment with petty squabbles. Our daughter deserves better. Besides, we all know how this will end if it continues," she said, alluding to countless screaming matches between the two. Your father huffed but said nothing else. "Tony, please. For your sister," she continued with your brother, who still looked ready to pounce.

Tony deflated, eyes softening as he looked at you before he nodded. "Enjoying the party, peanut," he asked again, using your childhood nickname.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Yeah, it's been amazing. Thank you both for tonight."

"Oh, sweetheart, don't thank us. You deserve it, and if anything, it's James you should thank," your mother responded.

"I'll make sure to do that."

"Where is James?" your father asked, looking around frowning. "George and I need to speak with him about the project. Where is he?"

On cue, Bucky appeared. A high-pitched ring filled the air, cutting through the music as he held a microphone. Bucky laughed nervously, raising a hand to the crowd. "Sorry, everyone. The music will be back, I promise. I want to take a moment to toast in honor of Y/N's birthday." He motioned for a server to bring him a glass of champagne.

"As most of you know, Y/N and I have known eachother since before we could walk. She is my person, my rock during the most harrowing moments when I questioned my existence—teenagers, so dramatic, am I right?" Chuckles rang through the room at Bucky's words. "Anyways, I am trying to say that I am incredibly grateful for your existence, friendship, and, most importantly, for the last two years as partners. I can only hope you feel the same way because if you don't, this will be extremely awkward," Bucky kneeled as his hand reached into his pocket, pinching a diamond-encrusted ring. Gasps ranged throughout the air. Through blurry eyes, you could see your mother clutching at her chest, and your father's usually stoic face merged into surprise; your brother, for once, remained without reaction. Though you did dwell on the fact as you stood from your seat, you slowly made your way through the crowd towards Bucky.

"The last two years have been the most exhilarating and unforgettable of my life. Every day with you has been an adventure filled with laughter, love, and endless joy. You are beautiful both inside and out, intelligent, and breathtaking. Your kindness, strength, and warmth have touched my heart in ways I never thought possible. You are the love of my life. Nothing would make me happier than to continue creating a life—a family by your side. Y/N, will you marry me?"

Tears rolled down your face as the moments with the man kneeling in front of you raced through your mind, and you knew that there was no better man to spend your life with than James Barnes. 

"Yes," you muttered in a broken whisper.

The crow erupted into applause as Bucky slid the ring onto your finger and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. Your mother, father, and Bucky's parents were the first to reach you. 

Your mother enveloped you in comforting arms. "Oh darling, congratulations!" You could see the glimmer in her eyes as she held back tears of joy.

Your father came next, seeming very pleased by the events. "Congratulations, darling. You've made a fantastic choice of a husband with James here." He patted Bucky's arm. "Good for business too, don't you think, George?" 

"Certainly, we can work something out." You would have rolled your eyes at the two men, but all you did was share a look of annoyance with your now-fiancee, which was then broken as his father held you both by the shoulder with a grin plastered on his face. "Oh, son, you've won the lottery with Y/N. She'll be an exceptional wife and mother."

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes." You said tight-lipped, knowing he expected you to leave your job at Stark Industries to be a housewife like Minnifred. He was much like your father, except misogynistic. You were glad Bucky's mom was a saint and taught him proper manners. 

After your parents left, many of the guests approached you with their congratulations, telling you how they had seen it coming since you were children. 

Tony was one of the last to approach you two. He pulled you away from Bucky. "Hey, Peanut." He hugged you by the shoulders, kissing your forehead, completely ignoring your fiancé, to which you scolded with a quirked brow. He sighed dejectedly, finally acknowledging Bucky, "Barnes."

"Hey, Tony," Bucky greeted, amused at your brother's jealous behavior. 

While Tony had never had a problem with Bucky, his attitude towards the man changed once you began dating. You just assumed it was part of his protective brother's responsibilities. 

"Can I talk to you for a moment alone?" His eyes shifted to Bucky. 

Your fiancé looked back. "Of course. See you later, babe."

You watched him walk away, only turning to give Tony a sharp, expectant look.

Tony scoffed, running a hand down his face in exasperation. "Y/N, don't you think you're taking this too far?

"What do you mean?" You frowned, crossing your arms.

He clenched his jaw. "I know that bearing with Dad's expectations isn't easy. I know it's better to comply than get the short end of the stick, but that doesn't mean you need to throw your life away to please him Y/N. So please, Y/N, don't marry a man you don't love."

"I love him," you said calmly.

"Are you in love with him?"

You scoffed, fingers running through your hair, a nervous habit. "Tony, please. Stop. I am marrying Bucky, and nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind. For the sake of our relationship, I am asking you to stop with this nonsense, okay?"

You left without hearing his reply and rejoined your fiancé with a group of acquaintances—the children of other investors in Stark Industries. They all congratulated you, hugging you joyfully, but you could see the envy in their eyes. Once upon a time, you considered them your friends until you had heard them badmouthing you behind your back. Then you started to notice the fake laughs and smiles or how their compliment was always backhanded somehow.

"I am so happy for you," they said in high-pitched voices, but all you could hear was, "That should be me. I should be the daughter of a billionaire. I should be marrying the heir to the Barnes estate."

You could only return the same energy, giving them fake smiles and false friendship. Bucky tightened his arm around your waist, kissing your forehead in reassurance. You remained to chat with the group until your mother ushered you away and pulled you to the women of her charity group.

It wasn't until the end of the party that you could finally have a moment alone with Bucky. Most of the guests had left, and others took residence in the many guest rooms in the mansion.

You walked hand in hand with your fiancé, making a beeline to your bedroom. Silence filled the room as you closed the door, holding Bucky's gaze unblinking. You could feel your lips twitch, so you bit your lip, attempting to restrain yourself, but it was in vain as you doubled over, exploding in laughter. Bucky followed suit, chuckling as he moved to the king-sized bed.

You took a deep breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. You are unsure if they resulted from your laughter or something else, but you prefer not to dwell on the matter. "God, that was something," you said, looking around the room from your teenage years. Remnants of the age lingered in the form of polaroids with your so-called friends, posters, and stuffed animals. All left untouched since the last time you visited the vacation home.

"Mhm, did you see their faces? My speech had them swooning, and you know what? I wrote it last night before bed," he confessed, ruffling his hair.

You scoffed, playfully glancing out the giant glass window overlooking the ocean, "Oh, I deserve more than minimal effort."

"Y/N, you cried," he deadpanned, sprawling across the bed. You rolled your eyes, pushing away from the door and joining him on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"So this is happening, huh? We are engaged," you mused to yourself, finally grasping the gravity of the situation. Although you were sure of your decision, your stomach still dropped at the turn your life was taking—Tony's voice nagging at the back of your mind.

"What will we do when they ask us for grandchildren?" Bucky asked lowly in a similar state.

"I'm not sleeping with you." You frowned, disturbed by the idea.

"I'm not sleeping with you either," Bucky retorted, equally aggravated. "Look, I am grateful for what you are doing for me. I am, but I refuse to continue if you're not comfortable. It's not too late. We can call it off, and fuck, what anyone says. My father and the inheritance are nothing compared to your friendship, Y/N."

You turned on your side, mirroring his position as you propped your head on your elbow.

"We already discussed this, Bucky. I tried finding someone to love, but everyone I've met only sees me as Stark, an endless money fountain. Not a person. They don't love me for me," you said, your voice wavering as tears prickled in your eyes. You took his hand. "This isn't a sacrifice for me, Buck. I can't think of anyone else I would love to spend the rest of my life with. And I know we will face many obstacles, but we'll figure it out. We always do." You knew the road to follow wouldn't be easy, but you were prepared to face the obstacles with him by your side.

A/N: Hey everyone, how is everyone feeling about the first chapter? R and Bucky's relationship? In the next chapter, expect Wanda content!

today is a terrible, terrible day.

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ masterlist ✩₊˚.

part one i'm interested in more than just bein' your friend

part two i could eat that girl for lunch 

part three yeah, she dances on my tongue

part four

i just want to get her off

. ⏾ ⋆ dusk til dawn ⋆☼.

MASTERLIST

synopsis: after being invited to the met gala, you and billie are caught in between the spotlight and quiet intimacy of your growing relationship.

genre: fluff

pairing: fem!reader x billie eilish

wc: 6.05k

warnings: slight cussing, light alcohol consumption

authors note: so sad she’s not attending the met this year😓

moonlight streams through the open curtains, bathing the living room in a soft, silvery glow. the faint hum of a late-night talk show drifts through the air—it’s billie’s most recent appearance on jimmy fallon. your body sinks deeper into the couch, the plush cushions cradling you as your tired eyes follow the screen. the black throw blanket draped over you clings like a second skin, its soft, fuzzy fur wrapping you in a tender embrace. a candle flickers on the coffee table, its warm light spilling over the scattered remnants of your quiet evening alone—a half-empty mug of tea sits nearby, the once-hot liquid cooled to room temperature and forgotten on a coaster. next to it lies your book, a slender bookmark jutting out to hold your place. your phone, nestled beneath the blanket by your thigh, vibrates every few minutes with notifications you can’t bring yourself to check, the faint buzz a whisper against your skin.

the faint jangle of keys interrupts the silence, their metallic clink scraping softly against the door before the handle turns. the quiet, familiar click of the latch releasing echoes through the room, followed by the groan of the door as it swings open. the wind rushes in briefly, carrying the cool night air with it before the door closes, the hinges squeaking faintly as they settle back into place.

you glance over your shoulder, catching sight of billie as she steps inside. she pauses near the door, bending to kick off her shoes with a soft thud against the floor. her brown hair is gathered in a loose, low ponytail, strands framing her face in lazy curls. the oversized hoodie and baggy sweats she wears seem impossibly cozy, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of her day—errands, hours spent in her brother’s studio, and the residual energy of the spotlight still clinging faintly to her.

you turn your gaze back to the tv, watching her animated hands flit across the screen as she answers questions, the familiar cadence of her voice filling the room. the deep red roots of her hair peek through in the interview, a reminder of a look you dearly miss. behind you, the sound of her keys clattering onto the kitchen island mingles with the shuffle of papers, followed by her light footsteps as she crosses the room.

billie leans over the back of the couch, her presence warm and grounding. she presses a kiss to your temple, her lips soft and lingering, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the touch.

“you look nice and snug,” she murmurs, her voice low and comforting, like a melody meant only for you.

you nod, offering a soft “mhm” in response, the sound more exhale than word. the top of your head brushes against her face as she hovers near you, her warmth wrapping around you like an invisible blanket. leaning back slightly, you catch her lips in a gentle kiss, her skin soft and familiar against your own. the faint taste of mint from her gum cools your lips, the sensation spreading like a whisper of winter across your tongue.

when she pulls away, there’s a quiet, velvety pop, the delicate sound of connection breaking. her lips curve into a smile, the diamonds on her teeth catching the flicker of the candlelight, gleaming like scattered stars.

you reach up, cupping her face in your palm. your thumb brushes tender strokes along her cheek, the simple touch enough to make her nose wrinkle slightly. the sight draws a soft smile from you.

“hi, baby,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, as though the words are meant to wrap around her soul and nowhere else.

“hi, mama,” she replies, the nickname slipping from her lips with practiced ease, her voice as smooth as silk. her breath fans lightly across your face, carrying a warmth that lingers.

your fingers drift upward, tangling softly in the loose strands of hair at the nape of her neck. her eyes flutter closed, savoring your touch, her lips parting slightly as a quiet sigh escapes her.

“long day?” you ask, your gaze tracing her face, taking in the freckles scattered across her skin like constellations.

“you have no idea,” she replies, her brows lifting briefly before relaxing again. “i feel like i just aged up twenty years.” her eyelids open slowly, revealing the piercing blue of her eyes, oceans of emotion that meet your own.

her attention shifts suddenly as something on the tv catches her ear—a sound or phrase that makes her stiffen slightly.

“ no, it never feels like that ever. no, i never am like, ‘yeah! got it.’ ”

she groans softly, her face scrunching in mild disgust as she catches sight of her past self on the screen. her body tenses briefly before she glances back at you, her lips forming a pout as she casts you a dramatic side-eye.

“why are you watching this?” she whines, her voice laced with playful exasperation.

“because i can,” you tease, raising your voice just enough to mimic her tone, your words dripping with faux defiance.

“whatever,” she mutters, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair.

you take the hand that rests on the back of her neck, pulling her down toward you. your lips meet hers in a flurry of light, playful pecks, the wet sound of smooches filling the space between laughter. her pout melts away, replaced by a grin that spreads slowly across her face, her joy as warm and luminous as the candlelight that dances across the room.

breaking the kiss, she moves toward the kitchen, collecting the stack of mail and packages piled near the edge of the counter. sliding onto the floor, she tucks her legs beneath the coffee table, her back resting against the couch as her head finds a place on your knee. the rug beneath her feet feels soft, a textured contrast to the cool air that lingers in the room. with a low sigh, she reaches back, loosening her ponytail, letting waves of chestnut brown cascade past her shoulders, strands curling softly down her back like ribbons unraveling. her fingers sift through the scattered envelopes, sorting the mundane from the meaningful, her nails lightly tapping on paper as she works.

“bills,” she mutters, sliding a pile toward you. her lips quirk in mock irritation as she meets your gaze.

you give her a pointed look, eyebrows arching. “oh, so now i handle all of these?”

she shrugs dramatically, the ghost of a grin tugging at her mouth. “you’re better at it.” her voice drips with faux innocence as she tosses her hair over her shoulder, sending you a playful, teasing glance.

you shake your head, suppressing a smile, and turn back to the tv. the faint hum of voices fills the room as youtube automatically queues another video. billie releases a quiet, relieved sigh as her face disappears from the screen, her shoulders visibly relaxing. still, her fingers work through the mail, opening envelopes, flipping through glossy magazines, and tossing aside collaboration offers. the rhythm of her movements is interrupted when her hands still over one particular envelope.

“what the hell…” she murmurs under her breath, her tone curious and tinged with intrigue. the envelope in her hands feels different—thicker, sturdier. its texture is slightly rough beneath her fingertips, like pressed parchment, its edges precise and clean. her name is written across the front in an elegant, flowing calligraphy, the ink embossed and raised just enough to be felt as her thumb brushes over it. flipping it over, her eyes fall to the wax seal on the back, a shimmering gold stamp pressed into intricate details, cool and smooth against her skin.

your attention shifts at the sudden change in her demeanor. leaning forward slightly, you watch as she carefully breaks the seal, the faint crackle of wax filling the silence. she pulls out a sheet of cardstock, cream-colored and sophisticated, the same delicate script flowing across its surface. her lips move as she reads, some words slipping into the air while others fall silent, her voice alternating between muted murmurs and audible whispers. the faintest smile spreads across her lips as her eyes trace the contents of the letter.

“what is it?” you ask, leaning toward her, curiosity blooming as you try to peer over her shoulder.

she tilts the letter slightly in your direction, her grin widening. “an invite to the met gala. they want me back this year.” her voice is soft, but there’s an edge of excitement to it as she hands you the envelope. “and they said i could bring a plus one.”

your fingers skim the paper, taking in the luxurious feel of it as your eyes scan the invitation. her words echo in your mind, but they blur momentarily as you try to read and process everything at once. once you lower the letter, you find her watching you, her expression open, hopeful, and maybe a little nervous.

“do you want me to come with you?” you ask, your voice matching the softness of hers.

her smile falters, only slightly, as she considers her words. “do you want me to want you to? i mean… this would be our first time going public, you know, as a couple. not just friends.”

the word couple lingers between you, warm and affirming, wrapping around the two of you like a quiet promise. it’s been nearly two years since your friendship evolved into something deeper, something sacred and tender. in that time, your relationship has become a sanctuary—a bubble free of prying eyes and the unrelenting pressure of public opinion. billie’s fame has always been a double-edged sword, and while the world knows you as her close friend, they’ve never suspected the truth of what lies between you. it’s been intentional, this secrecy, a deliberate choice to protect what you’ve built.

but now, the possibility of stepping into the spotlight together tugs at both of you—tempting, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. the thought of shedding the secrecy, of calling each other “mine” without hesitation, feels like freedom. but so does the safety of what you already have.

billie’s shoulders slump slightly, her head dipping as she releases a soft breath. she picks at the fibers of the rug, a nervous habit you’ve noticed over the years, her fingers working absentmindedly as her thoughts whirl.

you reach down, brushing her hair behind her ear, your thumb grazing the edge of her temple. “i’ll go,” you whisper, your voice gentle but resolute.

her head snaps up at your words, her eyes wide with surprise and glistening with the beginnings of joy. “really?”

“yes, really. i’d love to be your date to the gala.” your fingers trail along her jaw, resting on her neck as your thumb rubs slow, soothing circles over her pulse point. her face lights up with a smile, the kind that makes her whole expression glow, and she leans into your touch, her earlier tension melting away like ice under the warmth of a flame.

“you have no idea how much that means to me,” she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of her gratitude and affection.

“oh, i think i do,” you reply, your lips curving into a smile as your hand drifts to her shoulder, grounding her. and as the candlelight flickers around the room, casting both of you in its golden glow, you feel the quiet anticipation of what’s to come—a new chapter, written together, with the world finally watching.

a flush of pink rises to her stardusted cheeks at the mere thought of it. you as her date and her as yours, stepping into a night draped in elegance and glittering possibility. she glances back down at the rug, her fingers idly twisting the threads as if anchoring herself, trying to play off the sheepish smile threatening to bloom across her face. “okay, cool,” she murmurs, the words slipping out like a secret.

and for the rest of the night, that’s all you two talk about, voices overlapping in excitement as you discuss the theme, the gowns, the energy of it all. you call up her network of famous friends, voices warm and lively through the receiver as they share their plans and hesitations, making the whole thing feel more real.

the months pass in a whirl, time unspooling like a ribbon caught in the wind. the living room becomes an evolving mosaic of fabric swatches, discarded sketches, tea-stained mugs, and the occasional half-eaten granola bar. laughter fills the air, bouncing off the walls like music as the two of you brainstorm designs late into the night. the chaos is oddly comforting, each small step pulling you closer to the vision.

planning starts the day billie opens the envelope, the seed of an idea taking root and sprouting almost instantly. you both dive headfirst into research, poring over past themes and iconic looks, your phones cluttered with saved images and bookmarked articles. you sketch your initial concepts with hesitant strokes, unsure at first but growing more confident as the vision sharpens. trial after trial leaves the floor littered with crumpled paper, but finally, after weeks of adjustments, you settle on a design that feels like you.

finding a designer is the next step, a meticulous search through portfolios until one name stands out: erdem moralıoğlu. his work feels like poetry stitched into fabric—textured, vibrant, and alive. you reach out, sending over your sketches and descriptions, and before long, you’re in contact.

the process is intense but rewarding—zoom calls where the two of you gesture wildly, emails where the fine details are ironed out, and even trips to london to stand in his atelier. the space feels sacred, each corner bursting with creativity. mannequins draped in shimmering silks and bold prints stand like statues, their presence almost reverent. fittings are delicate rituals, the fabric cool against your skin as billie sits nearby, watching you with a soft smile. the dresses, when finished, leave you breathless—dreams made tangible, their beauty spilling into the room like sunlight through stained glass.

as april folds into may, the days quicken their pace, each one disappearing as quickly as it arrives. in between fittings and final touches, billie navigates the chaos of awards season, her shelves filling with trophies that glitter in the evening light. you handle the rest—flights, hotels, stylists—ensuring every piece of the puzzle fits seamlessly into place.

then, suddenly, it’s may fifth, and the met gala is no longer a distant vision but an imminent reality.

the morning breaks softly, sunlight spilling through the hotel windows in golden streaks. you wake to the faint sound of the city outside, cars and footsteps blending into a gentle hum. billie stands by the window, her silhouette bathed in light, a steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. the scent of jasmine and hibiscus mingles with the crisp air. she turns when she hears you stir, her face soft and open, her eyes catching the light. “mornin’, gorgeous,” she says, her voice low and warm as she crosses the room to press a kiss to your forehead.

the day feels suspended in a surreal haze, a quiet thrill thrumming beneath every moment. the suite becomes a hive of activity as your stylist teams arrive, carrying racks of shoes, trays of jewelry, and endless brushes. curling irons hiss, the air fills with the faint aroma of hairspray and perfume, and the room vibrates with quiet focus. billie sits beside you, uncharacteristically still, her gaze flicking between her reflection and yours.

music hums softly in the background, a calming undercurrent to the chaos. your voice drifts above it, low and unhurried, as you hum along to the melody. the nail technician works with careful precision, the faint vibrations of the drill traveling through your fingertips, grounding you in the moment. billie glances over occasionally, a half-smile tugging at her lips as she watches you, her expression tinged with something tender.

outside, the city roars on, oblivious to the quiet symphony unfolding within the suite. for now, the world feels distant, and all that exists is this—the two of you, side by side, preparing to step into something new, something shared.

“nervous?” billie’s voice dances through the air, light and teasing, pulling your eyes from your nails to meet hers in the mirror. the softness in her voice is familiar, grounding, and her blue eyes hold a spark—like she can read you, even in this fleeting moment.

you turn instinctively, but before you can respond, her hand—warm, soft—cups your jaw, fingertips grazing your skin as she gently turns your head back toward the mirror. the contact is so gentle, so intimate, it catches you off guard. a soft ‘sorry’ spills from your lips, almost forgetting the makeup artist’s quiet presence. billie chuckles softly, her laugh the kind that stays with you, echoing in your chest.

“but no, not really,” you admit, the excitement more prominent now than any trace of nerves. “i’m just… excited. tonight is big, that’s all.”

billie nods in agreement, her touch warm against your knee, nails painted dark and mysterious, reflecting the quiet light of the room. “it’s huge,” she says, her words firm and certain. “and it’s ours. nobody can take that from us.” she gives your knee a reassuring squeeze, and you feel the weight of her promise in it.

as the final zippers are pulled and gowns settled into place, there’s a brief, timeless pause. standing before the mirror, you both take in the sight of each other—striking, elegant, everything you’ve worked for reflected back at you. billie steps behind you, wrapping her arm around your waist with a fluid motion, her fingertips brushing the curve of your side as she takes out her phone. soft clicks of the camera, the flash blinking briefly in the mirror, marking this moment in time.

you let your gaze linger on her for just a second—her eyes, a constellation of thoughts, her smile, quiet but knowing. “you look perfect,” you murmur, the words tasting like something real.

“so do you,” billie responds, her voice thick with something unspoken.

she hands you the overcoat—golden and rich—and you slip it on, the soft fabric flowing as you stand, both of you ready for the world to see. the black fabric envelops billie, hiding the brilliance beneath.

as you make your way to the car, your heart beats faster. the ride is silent, save for the hum of the limousine, a soft prelude to the storm of attention waiting for you both.

when the car stops at the metropolitan museum, the atmosphere shifts—like air before a thunderstorm. the doors open, and a flood of lights hits you both.

stepping out first, you feel the world pause. your gold overcoat sweeps behind you, the fabric an extension of the anticipation. billie follows close behind, her black coat almost a shadow, contrasting with the glint of her eyes.

hand in hand, you both walk the carpet, your steps synchronized as the crowd holds its breath. midway, you stop, the moment stretching out before you. you both unclip your coats in perfect harmony, the fabric falling away like a revelation.

the crowd erupts—camera flashes, whispers, gasps. billie’s gown, dark and starlit, catches the light, the midnight blue fabric swirling around her like it’s alive, and the detachable cape, embroidered with golden constellations, billows like the night sky itself. her hair is a wild thing, dark and free, but the diamond crescent moon above her brow gives her an ethereal edge.

your gown is sunlight personified. gold and soft as liquid dawn, the train fanning out like the rays of the morning sun. delicate metallic threads trace the path of light, and your gown seems to shimmer with the warmth of the sun. your overcoat falls away to reveal the intricate embroidery, the story of the night and the day meeting each other—your own private metaphor in the form of fabric.

the cameras can’t seem to capture it fast enough.

you and billie stand together, posing, your fingers brushing in the stillness. there’s a softness to the way she gazes at you, like she’s seeing something just for her, something the world can’t touch.

a photographer calls your names, desperate to immortalize the scene, and then the whispers start.

“is that her girlfriend?”

“they’ve been friends for years—are they… are they confirming it?”

“best looks of the night, no competition.”

billie reaches for you then, her hand slipping into yours as she places a soft kiss on the back of your knuckles. the warmth spreads through you, a smile curling at the corners of your mouth. her lips find the inside of your elbow next, the lightest of touches, just enough to send a thrill through you.

as you ascend the stairs to the museum, you’re stopped every few steps—interviews, compliments, requests for more photos. the whole night a whirlwind of attention. finally, billie grabs your hand, her fingers intertwined with yours, and leads you inside.

it’s like stepping into another world.

the museum is transformed, a mythical landscape of flowers and sculptures, the lighting soft and surreal. it’s dreamlike, this world you’ve entered, a place where time seems to stretch, where anything feels possible. you move through the space, sidestepping whispers and smiles, navigating conversations with designers, artists, and celebrities, all the while the eyes of the room on you.

someone pulls you aside—a fashion editor, wide-eyed. “you two didn’t just follow the theme,” she says, breathless. “you are the theme.”

through the exhibits, billie keeps a steady hand on your back. the painting of the sun and moon, its gold and blue hues so reminiscent of your gowns, catches her eye. “look, baby. that’s us,” she says, her voice warm and playful.

“oh, it most certainly is,” you reply, your hand sliding back to cup her chin. you pull her toward you, capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

the sound of a string quartet fills the air—dreamy, aching. billie takes your hand, her touch firm yet gentle, and leads you to the dance floor.

billie places your champagne flutes down onto a passing tray without a second thought. her fingers pull you closer, her eyes never leaving yours. and then, in the silence between the notes, she asks, her voice quiet, “may i have this dance?”

turning back around towards her, billie grabs your hand and pulls you closer, her fingers warm against yours. you glance around briefly, taking in the fluid movements of the other dancers—how their bodies seem to move as one, a seamless blur of grace and harmony. their steps are effortless, in sync with the music, and you find yourself questioning whether you’ll be able to match their elegance.

swiveling your head toward billie, you raise an eyebrow, uncertainty flickering in your gaze. “i’m not even going to lie… babe, i don’t know how to dance like this.” you sigh, the words coming out in a soft, unsure laugh.

rubbing the back of your hands with her thumbs, billie gives you a gentle smile, the kind that makes your chest feel lighter. “that’s okay, baby, just put your hands here.” she guides your arms around her neck, her touch soft but confident. her hands find your waist, steady and reassuring. “and follow my lead.”

she moves into a simple box step, her body light and fluid, as if dancing is second nature to her. you watch your feet, trying to stay in rhythm, afraid of stepping on her toes. you don’t, but you do misstep, your heel catching the floor awkwardly.

billie’s thumb brushes against your jawline, sending a spark of warmth through you. her index finger tilts your chin up, gently guiding your eyes back to hers. “just keep your eyes on me and let the music guide you,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing, like a whispered secret meant only for you. “you got this, babe.” her smile is soft, knowing, and it melts any lingering nerves away.

you both glide across the floor, your movements synchronized, as if you’ve waltzed together countless times before. sure, there have been moments when you danced in the kitchen, but never like this—never this close, this connected, with the weight of her touch grounding you.

your fingers brush the soft hair at the nape of her neck, the small strands delicate beneath your touch. you try not to disrupt the neat style, but the temptation to run your fingers through it is too strong. your skirts brush against each other with every turn, the fabric whispering against the air, adding to the quiet symphony of the moment. the warmth between you both is undeniable, charged with an electric connection that doesn’t need words. billie’s gaze is all adoration, her eyes so full of it, it’s almost too much to bear. the intensity of her attention has you shyly glancing away, the heat of her stare igniting a flush on your cheeks.

billie draws you closer, pressing your bodies flush together, closing the distance until there’s no space left between you. “are you blushing?” she asks, her voice low and teasing, the words brushing against the shell of your ear. her breath sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising in its wake.

“shut up, please and thank you.” you whisper, a playful retort slipping from your lips as you bite the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to suppress the smile that’s already tugging at the corners of your mouth. billie laughs—a soft, steady chuckle—and you feel it deep in your chest. she presses a gentle kiss to your temple, the warmth of it lingering long after.

but before you can respond, a figure approaches—sharp black suit, a man who billie seems to recognize. he taps her shoulder, his voice cutting through the quiet rhythm of the dance. “so sorry to interrupt,” he says, his tone apologetic but firm. “billie, could i borrow you for a moment? it’s about the exhibit’s partnership.”

billie glances at you, her brow furrowing slightly, a trace of reluctance crossing her features. “i’ll be right back, okay?” she says, her voice soft but tinged with something almost apologetic.

you nod, giving her a reassuring smile, though there’s a flicker of disappointment that you try to hide. “go. i’ll be fine, promise.”

her lips brush against yours in one last chaste kiss, tender and lingering. her hand hovers for a moment on your right cheek, the warmth of her touch searing even through the space that begins to grow between you. then, she’s pulled away, disappearing into the sea of guests, her silhouette swallowed by the crowd. you step back, the connection between you suddenly lost, and the vastness of the room feels overwhelming. the music, once so close, now seems distant, and the energy in the air feels too heavy. the laughter, the chatter—it all blends together into a distant hum. you need a moment of solitude, a space to breathe, to recalibrate.

you slip away from the center of the floor, seeking out a quiet corner, where the noise fades into a soft blur. the weight of the evening settles on your shoulders, and for the first time tonight, you feel untethered.

grabbing another slender flute of champagne from a wandering waiter’s tray, you lift it to your lips, hoping the cool liquid might ease the heat that’s been bubbling inside you since you stepped into the room. the soft murmur of chatter and the rhythmic clink of glasses fade into the background, as if the world around you has softened and quieted, leaving only the sensation of the glass in your hand. you tilt it back, letting the golden liquid slip over your tongue, the bubbles dancing lightly against your taste buds before you tilt your head further, draining the glass in one smooth motion.

the bubbles sting your throat as they travel down, sharp and fleeting, but you don’t flinch. you welcome the coolness, feeling it settle in your chest, a brief reprieve from the heat radiating from your cheeks and the warmth that still lingers in the pit of your stomach. you lower the empty flute with a soft clink against the table, your fingers lingering on the stem for a moment, as if to steady yourself. exhaling sharply, you glance around the room, your eyes skimming the crowd, deliberately avoiding the spot where billie stands. your heart beats faster, a flutter of nerves taking over, and you fight the shy grin that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

after a moment, you slip away, retreating from the crowded space, the noise and clamor of the gala fading as you wander through the museum. you pass beneath gilded archways and quiet galleries, the sharp contrast between the noise of the event and the hush of the galleries almost surreal. you find yourself outside in the garden, the night air welcoming in its stillness.

the difference is immediate—the hum of the gala swallowed by the soft chorus of crickets and the gentle murmur of the night breeze. you step onto the balcony, your gaze lifting to the sky. the moon hangs high above, its silvery glow casting everything in its path with an almost ethereal, dreamlike light. you place your hands on the cool stone of the banister, fingers trailing over its smooth surface as you tilt your head back, letting the crisp night air wash over you, calming the frantic thoughts swirling in your mind.

you descend the steps, the gentle rustle of your skirts against the stone floor barely audible. the garden sprawls before you, an oasis of serenity in the midst of the city’s heartbeat. you walk slowly, brushing your fingers against the lush greenery, feeling the varying textures beneath your fingertips—soft petals, the sharp edge of leaves, the smoothness of bark. the mingling scents of flowers and the faint trace of city air surround you, a comforting blend that grounds you in the moment, offering a strange sense of peace you didn’t know you needed.

you finally take a seat on a stone bench, the cool surface beneath you a contrast to the heat still lingering in your skin. you close your eyes, letting the quiet settle over you, and the weight of the evening fall away. the night is still and gentle, and for a moment, it feels like the world has paused just for you.

then, you hear it—the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel path. it’s familiar, a sound you know without needing to look. you turn to see billie standing at the edge of the garden, her silhouette framed by the soft moonlight. her hands are tucked into the pockets of her gown, and the light catches the shimmer of her dress, making her appear almost otherworldly, like she belongs to this tranquil, ethereal setting.

“thought i’d find you here,” she says, her voice a smooth blend of warmth and curiosity.

you offer her a small smile as she steps closer, the cool air between you giving way to the quiet intimacy of the moment. her gaze locks with yours, and she continues, her words soft but laced with a tenderness that makes your heart skip. “you looked lost,” she says, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken. “or maybe i was the one who felt lost without you.”

the distance between you closes, and for a moment, the world feels still again. it’s just you and billie, the moonlight, and the quiet hum of the night. everything else seems so far away.

you smile, patting the spot beside you on the bench. “come join me, moonchild,” you joke, your voice light and playful, the warmth of the moment settling around you both.

billie chuckles softly, her eyes flickering to the bench before she gracefully takes a seat. she doesn’t speak at first, just tilts her head back, letting the moonlight bathe her face as she admires the sky alongside you. the silence stretches out between you, but it’s comfortable, enveloping you in a shared quiet that feels as natural as breathing.

“they don’t tell you how overwhelming it all is, do they?” you murmur, breaking the stillness, your voice soft and contemplative.

“not really,” billie admits, her gaze drifting from the stars back to you. “i mean, i’ve been to big events before, but this… tonight felt different.”

“oh? why?”

“because of you,” she says, turning to meet your eyes. her gaze is steady and soft, and there’s a vulnerability in her expression, as if she’s revealing a piece of herself she doesn’t show often. “i’ve been to a million carpets, smiled for a million cameras. but having you by my side tonight… it made it feel real. like i wasn’t just performing for the world. i was sharing something real with them—for once.”

her words hang in the air, catching you off guard, and you look down at your hands, the shyness that had briefly faded creeping back into your chest. “i didn’t know if i was ready for all this,” you admit, the vulnerability in your voice almost as raw as her confession. “but walking into that room with you… i don’t think i’ve ever felt more sure of anything in my life.”

billie reaches for your hand, her gloves now off, and her fingers are cool against yours, the simple touch grounding you in the moment. “i never want you to doubt this—us. whether we’re in front of the world or hiding out on your couch, i’m all in.”

you lean your head against her shoulder, feeling the weight of her words settle in your chest like a promise. “me too,” you whisper, the sincerity in your voice matching the tenderness in her touch.

for a while, you sit like that, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment, the world outside seeming distant and irrelevant. the moon watches over you, casting its silver light across the two of you, a silent witness to the love you’ve nurtured in private and are now ready to share with the world. in its glow, everything else feels secondary, as if this space—this garden—is the only place that matters.

eventually, billie speaks, her voice low and teasing, breaking the spell. “you know, this might be my favorite part of the night. sorry to the met gala.”

you laugh softly, the sound light and free. “mine too. but don’t let anna wintour hear you say that.”

billie grins, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment. “our secret.”

the garden remains quiet, save for the faint hum of the city beyond the museum’s walls. billie’s hand is warm in yours, a steady comfort as you sit together on the stone bench. the night air wraps around you both like a blanket, the cool breeze carrying the faintest scent of jasmine and earth. the moonlight catches in billie’s blue eyes, making them shimmer like stars, and she watches you with an intensity that feels both familiar and new.

after a moment, she breaks the silence, her voice soft but carrying a note of mischief. “do you want to leave?”

you blink, taken aback by the suddenness of the question. “leave? the met?”

billie shrugs, a small, playful smile curling at her lips. “yeah. i mean, we’ve already done the whole thing—walked the carpet, mingled, got our pictures taken. we even danced. i think we’ve hit all the marks.” she pauses, her thumb gently brushing against your hand, her touch sending a shiver through you. “but honestly? i’d rather just be with you. away from all… this.”

the suggestion lingers in the air, heavy with possibility, and you don’t have to think twice. “god, yes,” you say with a laugh, turning to her fully, your eyes bright. “let’s get out of here.”

billie’s grin widens, and she stands, her hand reaching for yours as she pulls you up with her. “best decision we’ve made all night.”

hand in hand, you walk back toward the museum’s exit, leaving the lights, the glamour, and the cameras behind. the night feels different now—more yours than ever before. the world can wait.

astrc’s tags: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns @47lake @vijaxx @natbelovasblog ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!

three little words II a.russo

three little words II a.russo

you smiled down contentedly at the blonde whose head rested in your lap, your fingers raking gently through her hair as you laid together watching a movie, as was your newfound monday night tradition.

you'd met alessia in a coffee shop not far from your apartment a few months ago. the girl so caught up in her own thoughts she'd failed to see you coming through the door as she was on her way out, leading to her coffee no longer being in her hand but rather all over you.

she'd of course almost fainted with humiliation, especially when her first instinct had been to try to blot it out as she rambled out a million and one apologies.

however when she'd quickly realized she was unintentionally fondling a strangers chest as she tried desperately to wipe away the muddy brown coffee stains on your shirt she'd darted backward as if you were charged up with electricity.

that in turn then lead to her losing her footing and tumbling backwards, hurtling to the ground and knocking both her head against the door frame, and one of the servers down to the ground with her.

you'd meant to help her up, really you had. but the entire series of unfortunate events was so sudden and strange that you couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth as alessia looked up horrified and thoroughly embarrassed.

but as its been said, laughter is infectious.

so despite the way her stomach churned uncomfortably and her cheeks burned red with shame she found herself laughing along with you, as if the two of you were old friends and this was a completely normal occurrence.

however coming to your senses and remembering your manners you'd surged forward to offer her a hand up which she'd profusely denied, awkwardly getting to her feet of her own accord and turning to utter another round of apologies to the young girl who'd already helped herself up.

the blonde immediately offered to pay for the coffee you'd arrived to buy as an apology, refusing to take no for an answer but the only catch being she'd begged you both go to literally anywhere else, as she was sure she could never ever step foot in this place again.

with a laugh you'd agreed, and then one coffee turned into two, and then a walk around a park nearby so you could continue talking about everything and nothing. then dinner, and gelato, and with hours having flown by like minutes the striker had eventually insisted on seeing you home safe.

then almost four months later here you were striding around her home like it was your own, making the blonde a tea exactly the way you knew she liked it and curling up together to watch a film alessia had been waiting to for days now.

"babe do you want to go out for dinner tomorrow? i know you have wednesdays off so you could stay over afterwards?" you were pulled out of your thoughts as alessia sat up and paused the movie, stretching as you hummed, only half having heard her.

"dinner. tomorrow, maybe japanese? there's that new place with all the pretty lights inside and the little red bridge we keep saying we'll try." alessia repeated with a soft smile of amusement at your daydreaming. "yeah that sounds nice baby." you agreed as the striker cracked her neck and you winced at the obnoxious popping noise which followed the action.

"i'll call and make a reservation in the morning then." your girlfriend promised, leaning in to press her lips softly to yours. "perfect." you mumbled against them, her hand slipping up the oversized shirt which belonged to her, but you'd claimed as your own.

"your hands are freezing russo!" you whined trying to push them away as they only creeped up higher. "well then let me warm them up." she grinned, ducking and pressing her lips back to yours before you could respond.

you weren't quite sure what it was, maybe just the swelling of emotions you felt as the blonde pulled away and smiled down at you like you hung the moon and stars.

or the shiny bubble of comfortable domesticity around the pair of you as she settled again and rested her head on your shoulder, arm still draped protectively across your midsection as you leaned your body further into hers.

maybe it was the way your senses were overridden with the intoxicating combination of her body wash and the lavender face masks the pair of you had done earlier.

or the way she grabbed your free hand in hers, lacing your fingers together and pressing a feather light kiss to your knuckles, but you felt a surge of something wash over you as your girlfriend clicked play on the movie again.

"i love you." you spoke suddenly with a confidence, eyes raking over your girlfriend burning with adoration, alessia's head shooting up off your shoulder and her gaze wide with surprise at the words neither of you had said yet, until now.

"i love you less." you repeated a little softer now, hand letting go of hers and moving to settle on her cheek as you leaned across to sweetly peck her lips, a slight frown creasing your eyebrows at the way she was rigidly frozen in place.

"i-thank you." alessia blurted out awkwardly, and at that response it was like all the air was sucked from the room, and you felt an awful sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, instant regret bubbling up in your throat like bile.

the two of you sat in the uncomfortable silence for a beat too long, staring at one another as alessia looked like a deer caught in headlights and you like you wanted the ground to swallow you up whole.

"should we keep watching the movie?" "i need to use the toilet."

the differences in the sentences spoke volumes as did the tones of your voices as alessia opened her mouth to say something and you darted off the sofa, legs unable to get you away from her fast enough before the door slammed shut and you could finally breathe.

alessia winced hearing it, knowing her reaction was quite literally the worst one it could have been, but in the moment it was all she could get out, even if that was far from how she actually felt.

you were in the bathroom for long enough your girlfriend knew you weren't actually using it for anything other than probably hiding from her, until finally the toilet flushed and the lock clicked open.

any sort of apology she planned to make was futile as you awkwardly shuffled back into the living room, looking anywhere but directly at the blonde whom a few moments ago you'd been unable to take your eyes off of.

"uh its late, i should go." you grabbed your car keys off the kitchen counter as alessia immediately frowned. "wait but i thought you were staying over?" she questioned confused as you moved to put your shoes on where they sat dormant by the front door.

"my boss called, they need me to cover someone tomorrow so i should probably head home." you lied quietly, which alessia knew given your phone had sat beside her on the sofa the entire time you were in the bathroom.

"oh, okay. well did you want to at least finish the movie?" your girlfriend quickly jumped to her feet with a glimmer of hope as you shook your head. "no its fine, watch without me." you flashed a clearly forced smile and withheld a wince as you accepted your phone she held out to you.

"well do you want me to come stay with you tonight instead then? i can just grab my stuff for training and-" alessia moved as if to go pack a bag as you shook your head and grabbed her hand, stilling her.

"no no, i know you have your routine. i'll uh, i'll talk to you tomorrow." you paused for a second as you let her hand go, fully ready to lean forward and kiss her goodbye as you normally would.

but not feeling that at all you instead settled for a tight lipped smile and turned to leave, alessia left a little shell shocked before you felt her grab your wrist as you opened the front door.

"baby no wait just let me-"

"don't less, please." you shook your head quickly, pain evident in your eyes which had alessias stomach lurching knowing she was quite clearly the cause of it.

"i'll call you tomorrow." you forced out, gently tugging your wrist free from her grip, then faster than alessia could even blink the front door was closed and you were gone.

but she couldn't help but worry that when you did call tomorrow, if you did, it wouldn't be to organise what time she was picking you up for dinner.

~

and sure enough it wasn't a call that came for alessia that next day, it was a simple text.

a text that cancelled your dinner plans all together, an excuse she saw right through that you'd double booked and forgot you had plans already with your parents.

but she didn't feel like she had much room to say anything about it, until a few days of awkward unresolved tension and profound lack of you in her life, and someone else pushed her to it.

"alright alessia. out with it!" the blonde looked up shocked, snapped out of her daydreaming to find leah stood in front of her, hands on hips and prominent scowl on her face as she looked down at her.

"sorry?" the striker questioned, confused where this was coming from and more than ready to go home and sulk after you'd made yet another excuse not to see her tonight.

"you've been moping around here like a sad sack for the last two days less, you're pleasant but you're not your usual bubbly lovely self. so whats happened then?" leah raised an eyebrow in questioning as alessia sighed.

"nothing leah, i'm fine. just tired!" alessia forced a smile as leah scoffed, seeing right thorough it, though before she could call her out on it someone beat her to it. "liar." kyra chimed in, appearing seemingly out of nowhere as alessia shot her a look.

"kyra don't-" "right! you, out with it." leah ordered shifting her glare to the young australian now.

"her girlfriend told her she loved her and less just said thank you and didn't say it back and now her girlfriends avoiding her like a bad smell." kyra let the truth come tumbling out as alessia groaned and leahs eyes widened.

"you've got a girlfriend?" leah near gasped as kyra suddenly paled beneath alessias near murderous glare. "that was private, kyra." the english girl grumbled as the australian mumbled an apology and took off back to her own locker.

"okay less? breathe. how about you come over for dinner? i think we have some catching up to do." "is this just so i'll cook for you?" "no! but if you want it to be edible..."

~

"so. this wonderful girl tells you she loves you, twice, and you say..." leah baited wait a raised eyebrow, empty plates sat on the table in front of them.

"-thank you." alessia admitted as leah visibly cringed, whistling under her breath. "no wonder she's avoiding you. the poor girl probablys died of embarrassment less!" leah warned as the younger blonde groaned. "i know that! she shouldn't be embarrassed though."

"shouldn't she?" leah urged for the girl to continue as alessia dragged her hands tiredly down her face. "i've just-this is all very new for me." the striker started, leah nodding on encouragingly.

"its not that its because shes the first girl i've dated. its just that...well the feelings i have for her are different than what i've felt before." alessia seemed to struggle to explain as leahs eyebrows creased together in mild confusion.

"different how?" "its hard to explain." "well at least give it a try less."

"i just-i've never worried this much about someone i've been seeing before. like when she's not with me i'm always wondering what shes doing and hoping shes okay, when she goes on trips for work i always worry something will happen to her, which is ridiculous because she sells coffee beans!" alessia scoffed with a roll of her eyes as leah hid a small smile with her hand.

"then whenever i'm waiting for her to message me back i check my phone more, because i want to talk to her, i want to hear her every thought and know what shes up to, even if shes just spent the last three days with me and i already know what shes been doing." alessia admitted, throwing her hands up with a huff.

"we try to keep a healthy balance of time with one another and apart, but whenever we don't spend the night together i don't sleep as well because i wish she was with me. we watch movies together on facetime for hours even when she lives five blocks away!" alessia rolled her eyes and leah snickered quietly.

"and i just-i've never cared so much for someone leah. and caring so much means if anything were to happen, it would hurt, a lot, and that terrifies me! it terrifies me how much-" alessia began but the older girl finished her sentence for her.

"-how much you love her." the defender spoke with a knowing smile as alessia gave in with a deeply troubled sigh and a nod of her head.

"but did i tell her any of that? no! i just said 'thank you' like she'd just made me tea not as if she'd just confessed her love for me!" alessia groaned again dropping her head into her hands as leah reached over to rub her back.

"well. then go and tell her how you feel less! before she thinks you don't love her, or that she's made a mistake by telling you she does." leah warned gently as alessia sat up properly and nodded.

she knew what she had to do.

~

"no i won't i'll just have to-" you paused hearing your doorbell go, a quick check of the ring camera your brother had insisted you have installed showing the very topic of your current conversation.

"hey liv? i'll call you back later." you cut your friend off and ignored her questions as to what was happening as you pressed end call, cautiously making your way over to the front door as the bell went again.

unlocking it you pulled the front door half open, mostly because it was freezing and you weren't too keen on letting the hot air out or the cold air in, but maybe a little because you were worried the blonde was here to break up with you for moving too fast.

"alessia? is everything alright? its late." you questioned with a frown of concern as the striker rocked back and forth on her feet, hands shoved deep into the thin grey adidas jacket wrapped around her.

"come on, you're gonna freeze wearing that!" you decided before she could speak, already seeing the hints of red creeping up onto her nose and cheeks as you opened the door wider and waved her inside.

"thank you." your girlfriend exhaled shakily as you closed and re-locked the door behind her. "theres been a lot of those going around." you didn't mean to say it out loud, but when the realisation that you had dawned on you your own face flushed red.

"i didn't mean to-" "no no, i deserved that."

you both shared an awkward smile as you cleared your throat. "do you want a tea? you're still shaking." you noticed the slight tremble in her shoulders and before she could even answer you were off to the kitchen as alessia scrambled to follow you.

"have you eaten?" you asked once you'd flicked the kettle on to boil, alessia nodding quickly as she stood hovering on the edge of the room shifting on the balls of her feet.

"you can sit down." you cracked a small but seemingly sincere smile, nodding to the stools by the bench as alessia did just that. "yeah i was round leahs for dinner." she answered your previous question as you gave her a look.

"isn't that the one you said can't cook?" you quizzed as now alessia cracked a tiny smile. "yeah well, i was round there for dinner but i cooked." she admitted as you both exchanged a shy glance and another small smile, not really having met too many of one anothers friends just yet.

a somewhat tense silence followed as the kettle boiled and you turned your back to the striker while you made the pair of you a tea, alessia caught up rehearsing what she'd come here to say in her head while you did.

"than-cheers." alessia quickly diverted making you hide a smile as you placed down the cup of tea in front of her and she exhaled in relief as her freezing cold palms met the warm ceramic of the mug.

"this is...perfect." alessia managed out after she'd taken a few mouthfuls. "i bought that sugar replacement you like, and i pinched a few tea bags from your place, and its got oat milk." you confessed quietly as alessia just stared at you.

"but you hate oat milk." "well yeah, but you like it."

those words left hanging in the air you began to worry once again you may have overwhelmed or scared off the footballer but before you could even begin to think about apologizing she was up and out of her seat.

then without even a beat of hesitation her lips were pressed against yours, stomach tensing as cold fingertips held either side of your face and just like every single time alessia kissed you, you melted.

"i love you." the blonde pulled away and confessed suddenly, bright blue eyes piercing into yours which were wide with shock at those three little words.

"you don't have to-" you began to backpedal, afraid she'd only said them out of obligation but she was quick to shut you up with another kiss that had your head spinning and your lips tingling.

"i'm not. please, i promise i'm not." alessia shook her head quickly as all you could do was nod, the taller girls hands gently letting go of your cheeks as they shifted to place themselves on your hips instead.

"i love that you know how i take my tea perfectly. i love that you always come over with my favorite snacks. i love that even if i say i'm not hungry you know to order extra because i'll eat yours." alessia started, a soft smile curling into your features at her words.

"i love that our days are so different because it means we don't run out of things to talk about. i love the way your nose twitches whenever you're trying not to laugh, and i love the way you sound when you do." alessia continued, squeezing your hips gently.

"i love that whenever you buy flowers at the markets you take like half an hour choosing which bunch is best. i love that you always fall asleep during movies even when its your turn to pick. i love that you hate cooking but love to clean up because i love cooking and i hate cleaning up!" alessia grinned as you let a small laugh escape.

"i love when you wear my clothes or my kits with my name on the back, i love when we fall asleep on facetime and i still get to wake up with you. i love when you get those little frown lines after pouting about something ridiculous." alessias voice softened as she stepped even more into your space, her face a hairs breadth away from yours.

"i love that you've shown me what it feels like to be loved for exactly who i am, how i am and in a way i never even thought i could have. i love that i want to be the best possible person i can for you and make you feel just as loved and as seen as i do. i love you, all of you, and i'm so so sorry i didn't say it back." alessia practically whispered the last few words, a deep frown of remorse present in her features as you reached up to smooth out her eyebrows gently with your thumbs.

"i'm sorry ive been avoiding you and cancelling plans, i was just worried i came on too strong and i'd scare you off." you admitted, hands resting either side of her face which shook rapidly from side to side.

"never. i promise, i just-all of this, you, the thought of ever losing any of it, scared me and i got overwhelmed and weird and i-" now it was your turn to shut her ramblings up with a kiss, tracing shapes softly against her cheekbones.

"its okay less, really." you promised, the striker visibly sagging with relief and you couldn't help but laugh as her taller form came tumbling into yours, arms wrapped tightly around one another as she pressed her face into your neck.

"thank god." you felt her grumble as you smiled, sneaking a hand up her jumper and rubbing up and down her back as her own hands mirrrored the motion on your sides.

"less?" "mm?" "this is very cute but you're sort of squashing me into the counter top." you admitted with a slight wince as the edge of it rammed into your back further with each passing second.

"sorry!" the blonde leapt away from you with wide eyes as you pushed off and assured her it was fine, a few more pecks and sweet words exchanged before you nodded for her to finish her tea before it went cold, the pair of you migrating to the living room.

"where are you going?" her hand clutched at your top as you didn't join her on the sofa. "to get a blanket, your hands are still like ice russo." you laughed, her grip never loosening.

"no need." the striker shook her head, pulling you down practically on top of her, empty mug sat on the coffee table as she wiggled and wriggled until she seemed to find a comfortable enough position with you laid half on top of her and half between her legs.

"alright then?" you snickered at the manhandling as your girlfriend nodded happily, gesturing for you to grab the remote. "is this your way of asking to stay over?" you teased, leaning forward to grab it and settling yourself against her again.

"maybe." alessia grinned, ducking down to steal a kiss which you were more than happy to give her, flicking on the television and leaning your head on her shoulder, her hands messing about with your hair.

"i love you." alessia spoke once you'd both agreed on a film, one hand moving to tilt your head back to properly look at her, a face filled with adoration staring right back down at you.

"thank you baby." you reached up to gently pat her cheek, turning back to the opening credits as alessia scoffed. "fine, guess i deserved that." the striker mumbled, though as seconds passed you could almost feel her stroppy look burn through the top of your head.

"i love you too." you eventually gave in, alessia sighing dramatically with relief, not clocking you now had your mug of tea in your hands as she jerked her body a little too fast to pepper your face with kisses.

"oh less!" you moaned as the hot liquid sloshed all over you and you sat up, almost headbutting the poor girl whose face flushed red with embarrassment.

getting up to change your top you were stopped as her hand grabbed your wrist and you raised an eyebrow curiously. "well since i'm so cold and you're now all wet..." alessia nodded with a suggestive smile in the direction of the bathroom as you met her with a grin.

"last one there gets the left side of the bed and the extra pillow!" your girlfriend announced, already on her feet and racing off as you gasped and sprinted after her.

"alessia thats not fair thats my side and my pillow!"

I'll Keep You Warm - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

summary: During a mission, Wanda needs to keep warm, and there's no one better suited for the job than a demigod with fire powers.

words: 2.701k | warnings: this is not explicit at all but there's undressing and some innuendos, actually super fluff, friends (rivals) with mutual pining, attempt at humor (sometimes I think I'm funny), takes place after civil war, reader actually have the same personality as johnny storm because he's the only fire powered character I could think of while writing.

A/N-> Honestly, this was entirely based on the scene of Jacob warming up Bella in Twilight. It was requested as a challenge by @abimess about three years ago, and it's finally here. Never stop believing your request will see the light of the day guys (does this expression exist in English as well?)

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

-&-

Stake out missions are always a pain, but there's a code among the Avengers, and that's why instead of relaxing on some paradise island, you're in Siberia, collecting evidence for Natasha Romanoff.

To be fair, this was more of a favor to Nat than an Avengers duty, since the team was currently on a political tightrope, with half the people here and half somewhere else, with government contracts between them and councils all over the world. In the midst of all this mess, Natasha had discovered that the Red Room was not only operational, but also had a hundred thousand widows out there. The operation to locate and rescue these women was understaffed, and well, that's how you ended up in the Siberian winter with a grumpy witch and a synthezoid.

It turns out that the revelation that the Red Room was still operating was the exact kind of argument that the Avengers could use to exist, only super spies like Nat or Clint could find the widows, and well, only people like you, and the other Avengers could deal with that kind of power and influence. So while Natasha took care of the bureaucratic part, you and the others helped with everything else.

Stark and Cap were somewhere in Peru, and you envied a little the reconnaissance pictures that Tony sent to the group that contained the most beautiful tourist landscapes he visited with the justification of 'you never know where a black widow might be hiding' while you froze your ass with the people who liked you the least on the team.

Well, Vision didn't like you. In the same quantity as you hated him.

Wanda is a special case. You like to annoy her because she's really cute when she's mad, and she, although she's probably the most powerful person on the team and has full capacity to do so, has never put a definitive end to any of your torments towards her.

It was more of a game of teasing and friendly rivalry than mutual hatred.

The only thing you really disagreed on was the strange relationship she had with Vision, which always made you cross some line and say something stupid that would make her angry for weeks.

And it was also the reason you had offered to keep watch in the snow outside the hideout, while the two of them were safe and warm inside.

But only a few hours into the mission - Steve had already confirmed his status, as had Sam, who was in France, also having a great time as a tourist - when your slumber was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Vision, making you jump a little from the wooden chair.

"I wasn't sleeping!" You exclaimed immediately, to which the robot only sighed in reprimand, without comment. As you adjusted your posture and forced the sleep away, he stepped away from the canvas of the tent he had just crossed and cleared his throat.

"I require your assistance, Miss L/N." He begins, making you look at him in surprise.

The formal way Vision speaks always seems strange to you. You laugh shortly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Do you now, huh?"

That damn proud robot doesn't lose his composure under your irony. 

"As you may have noticed, the temperature has dropped considerably." 

You hum at his words, shrugging.  "I didn't, actually. Perks of being a demigod, I guess."

Vision sighs impatiently. "Well, the human in the group is cold." He explains grumpily, and you laugh in confusion.

"Sorry, I thought you were the one taking care of that, microwave." You retort, remembering well how Wanda, who must have been wearing three different coats the last time you two talked, grumbled the whole way about the snow, and how Vision seemed so pleased with himself when he offered to keep her warm with the heating function of his metal body.

So it was strange to see him standing there, begrudgingly asking for help.

"I was." He grumbles. "But my body... well, it overheated. I can't keep it that high heat for too long without damaging myself. Unlike you, of course. So I thought-"

"That I would save the day?" You interrupt, feigning some disinterest and then sighing. "Well, I don't know, I don't feel like a hero tonight." You sigh again, glazing him through the corner of your eye. "Maybe if you say please."

He chuckles incredulously. "You want me to beg you to save a teammate's life?" He retorts indignantly. "Maybe I should just report on your attitude. I'm sure Miss Romanoff will be happy to know what we've been wasting our energy on instead of the mission. Ridiculous arguments and-"

You burst out laughing, gesturing. "Dude, you need to lighten up. I'm obviously joking." You cut him off, standing up. "Take my watch. I'll keep your girlfriend warm."

If Vision could blush with anger, he probably would. He huffs, giving you room to get inside the tent.

"Just so you know, Miss Maximoff and I don't have that kind of relationship," he grudgingly clarifies, and you almost get the impression that this is something Wanda has asked him to do whenever someone - you - assumes differently.

You laugh, irony dripping onto your tongue as you retort, "I'm so sorry to hear that." And you imitate the sounds of fireworks and cheering, escaping a push from Vision to slip into the tent.

Even with your powers, it was easy to see how cold and damp it was in there. The tent, while spacious, didn't have much ability to accumulate heat from the fire pit outside or the small wood heater in the corner of the room, and almost all of your attitude disappeared when you caught a glimpse of the shivering figure on the camping mat.

Almost.

"Fear no more, Maximoff, your knight in shining armor is here." You teased, earning a small laugh from her.

Wanda adjusted herself to make room for you on the mattress. "Shut up, and get over here already."

Despite moving immediately, you retort, “Bossy,” which only makes her hide a smile against the pillow.

It should have been awkward, cuddling with a teammate, but as you adjusted and hugged her, it was only hard to ignore how Wanda seemed to have been molded for you. She fit perfectly against your body, and you tried not to blush at the sigh of relief she let out as she snuggled into your warmth.

“Thank you.” She sighed, eyes closed, hands moving inside your jacket. 

Your arms were around her, legs intertwined beneath the blanket that was no longer needed, and you didn’t trust your voice much to say more than a hoarse:  “Don’t mention it.”

A moment of silence passes, and then another. Your thoughts wander between Wanda, the Avengers, and what Natasha would say about how you’ve chosen to spend your time. Maybe Vis is right, and you’ve wasted enough moments that being used as a human heater is your only way to keep Wanda close. Maybe it’s too late to be anything else.

The silence stretches longer, and you almost think Wanda has fallen asleep, and you’re almost considering doing the same, when she groans.

“You’re being loud.”

Opening your mouth to defend yourself because you’re sure you haven’t said a word in the last few minutes, you shut yourself up before you do, as you realize the telepath snuggled against your chest was surely talking about another kind of noise. You snort lightly, folding your arms behind your head. The lack, even a little, of the warmth of one of them on her shoulders makes her groan in protest.

“If you weren’t nosy, you wouldn’t hear a thing.”

You snap back rudely, but Wanda chuckles, quite comfortable moving one of her hands inside your shirt. Your skin is considerably warmer without a fabric between you two, and it makes her hum in satisfaction.

"Yes, that's better." She whispers sleepily, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. The position becomes less and less platonic with each adjustment Wanda makes, but you would never complain.

You try to relax with so much contact - it's especially difficult now that you can smell Wanda's shampoo so directly, almost intoxicating all your senses with it. - And you're almost getting used to the sensation, when she grumbles dissatisfied.

"Why am I still cold?" There's a soft scratch of her nails against your lower back that makes you clear your throat and think of anything other than the sensation, in scenarios very different from this one.

You consider mumbling something about it being too cold outside for her to warm up in five minutes, and telling her to stop moving and wait a bit, but Wanda tries to repeat the skin-to-skin idea from before by adjusting herself so that she's practically all over you, both hands under your shirt. And that makes you jump in fright.

"Wow, slow down there, tigress." You scoff, really embarrassed now, and Wanda raises an eyebrow at the color in your cheeks - which increases considerably when she sits against your hips, hovering over you.

She looks at you with some curiosity, a smile playing on her lips. You have the impression that her eyes glow red for a second before she retorts:

"Don't act like this isn't your dream come true." She teases, half-joking and half-serious, you can only swallow hard as you stare into her eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You retort, well aware that a quick peek into your mind would tell Wanda that you know exactly what she's talking about.

But despite her skills, she's either too tired or too cold to do nothing more than let out a short laugh and roll her eyes.

"Can you stop thinking about dirty things for a second and help me out?" She grumbles, and you'll probably agree with anything this woman says while she's on top of you. She starts to take off her sweatshirt, and you forget how to breathe. Your expression brings a blush to her cheeks, but she doesn't lose her composure. "Stop it."

Yep, she can definitely hear your thoughts.

You clear your throat, adjusting yourself to cover your face with your arm, and block that sinful image before you.

"You stop." Is your answering grunt, to which Wanda gives a tense chuckle. "What the hell is this now? Undressing on my lap."

Wanda, who has already discarded all her sweaters on the floor, rolls her eyes. You're not looking, but she seems to be having a great time.

"You don't pay attention to anything, do you?" She retorts, and sighs to herself when she realizes that with all the movement, she now can see part of your abs exposed by the shirt. The anatomy of the gods was something really unfair and hard to ignore and Wanda is grateful that you are covering your eyes, because she can hide her own reaction from you.

"I pay attention to too many things if you ask me." You mumble, but Wanda ignores your answer, busy removing her shirt. With a sports bra being the only thing covering her torso now, she moves her hands to the edge of your jacket. With the gentle tug, you startle again, and stare at her in shock when you realize her lack of clothes. "F-for Odin, what the hell-"

"I need skin-to-skin warmth, you perv." She retorts firmly, even though her face is burning. You stammer in amazement, unable to look away from the cleavage in front of you—which is too close when Wanda pushes your jacket off. “You didn’t pay attention in any of those survival classes they organized for us, did you?” She insists on making conversation, but you’re mumbling sincerely:

“I don’t think I’d know my name right now if you asked me.” Wanda chuckles, rolling her eyes. Your jacket falls down your back, and she reaches for the hem of your shirt. 

“Take it off.” 

“Won't even take me to dinner first, Maximoff?” You scoff, even though you’re complying. Wanda loses a bit of confidence at your exposure, clearing her throat when she realizes she’s staring.

She ignores her own reaction, looking away as she explains; “You probably don’t understand this because you’re not entirely human, but it’s really cold right now. I just need a little more warmth.” 

You smile at her, moving your hands to her hips, making Wanda sigh as you start to play with the knot of her sweatpants. “Are you really going to take it all off, Maximoff? I knew you were hardcore, but damn…” 

She groans in embarrassment, for the first time that night. Covering her face with her hands, you laugh at the sight. “This would be so much easier if you didn’t keep thinking the things you’re thinking.” She mutters. “It’s so annoying.” 

You laugh, tugging at the knot so it comes loose. The slight slack in her sweatpants that allows you to see more of her hips makes you sigh. “Well, I’m still fifty percent human. No one is ironclad against a pretty girl on their lap. Oh, wait, your boyfriend is.”

Wanda takes her hands away from her face to hold your wrists away from her hips but still in your lap. "Vision isn't my boyfriend." 

You narrow your eyes at her suspiciously. "But he's something." She hesitates, letting go of your wrists. 

"Yeah, just like you are." She murmurs, taking you by surprise. She sighs then, adjusting her hair. "Friends, roommates, teammates. It doesn't matter what you call it."

You smile. "How about... personal heater?"

She laughs, shaking her head. "Shut up and take off your pants."

Despite the raised eyebrow, you don't say anything else. There's a pull apart, so that the two of you can strip down to your underwear. You do that fairly quickly, because even with your powers, you can feel how cold Wanda's skin is now.

But once you're settled under the covers again, Wanda can breathe a sigh of relief. She resists the urge to dig her nails into your back, feeling your body covering hers, and now skin to skin, the temperature rises much more quickly.

You’re also kind enough to emit more heat, and Wanda can’t resist hiding her face against your neck when your arms wrap around her completely. 

It’s a very tender moment between you. Wanda doesn’t want to think about how vulnerable she is, trusting you completely to keep her alive. And she also doesn’t want to think about how much better this feels than anything she’s ever felt. The safety inside your arms leaves her breathless. Suddenly, she finds herself asking; “Did you really mean all the things you were thinking?” 

You laugh shortly, your fingers moving to caress her hair and Wanda can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips at the sensation. “I don’t want to have this conversation while you’re having a hypothermia episode, Maximoff.” 

“I’m not—” 

“I paid attention in survival classes.” You interrupt her. "One of the most common signs of hypothermia is confusion, and one of the desperate actions people tend to have is to remove all clothing. You're lucky I can warm you up so quickly."  She says nothing to that, finally realizing that she's stopped shivering, and her thoughts are much clearer than before. She's no longer desperate to get warm, because she's not cold at all now. Wanda is ready to thank you, when you add, "Of course, there are still ways to warm you up even more..."

You move your head, and playfully bite her cheek, making her squirm with laughter before pinching you on the corners. You're still laughing when she turns inside your embrace, pouting but not pulling away from you.

With your arms firmly around her, you adjust your mouth to her ear.

“Go to sleep, you need to.” You whisper, smiling at the way she tries to hide her body’s reactions from you. “I’ll keep you warm through the night.”

She reaches out to intertwine her hand with yours, and rest it on top of her stomach. When you two finally fall asleep, you have matching smiles on your faces.

messages; b. eilish

peak into the unseen world of billies phones. keep updated on all the juicy details of all the hidden aspects of her love life, family/friend drama, and much more.

sour gummy worms

stay with me, please

Breathe

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: it's 3 am and I just thought of this. This is so rare for Ms tann to have motivation omg. Anyways enjoy !

Summary: you had been working yourself to the bone, flat out. Causing your girlfriend to worry about you.

Warnings: bit angsty, reader is stressed, panic attack, but fluffy ending MUAH

Masterlist

Frantic.

Your movements were frantic your whole brain was frantic. Speeding up with what you had to get done. It's as if time crept up on you. It was midnight and you couldn't sleep, all because of this thing you needed to do for work. You didn't want to get fired or anything. And that's the constant thing rattling round your brain.

'You're gunna get sacked.'

'You'll loose your spot.'

'They will think you're pathetic'

"What're you doing up love?" You then hear your girlfriend yawn. "Sorry Bills I didn't mean to wake you." She rubs her eyes adjusting to the light you had on in the living room. "You didn't babe. Why are you up this late?" You scatter the papers on the floor trying to find the one your after. "Bubba?" She then says a tad bit louder. "Hm? Oh, I needed to get this done, go back to bed billie-" "You come back to bed baby. You needa sleep." Your head just shakes. "Can't. I have to get this done." She lets out a sigh. "Please come to bed once your done." You mindlessly nod, still focusing on your work.

Days pass where this kept going on. Midnight, daily. She was getting really worried. Concerned. "Baby, it's your day off." She says looking at you scribbling something down on a piece of paper at the kitchen table. "I know but I forgot to do this." She sighs, her worry increasing. She goes to sit next to you. "Sweetheart." You hadn't heard her, too caught up with your burning thoughts. "Look at me." And you do, but not for long. Only to let her talk. "Your running yourself down, you need to take a break. Please." She pleaded.

But she knew deep down you wouldn't budge. You were definitely a hard worker. You didn't want her to worry either, you were fine. Right? "Its ok Bills once I'm done with this I will." "And when is that because it's been days." You continue to write. "Just a few more days." She sighs, standing up and leaving the room.

It was bad, truly bad. You haven't slept in 4 days, nearly 5 once the clock struck 12. You hadn't eaten. It's as if something was wrong with you, you had never done this before. Until the sleep deprivation kicked in. You felt it, feeling your lids slowly close. Your head going along with it, knocking out on the table. You hadn't even realized. That was until Billie came down, ready to shoot some sense into you, when she saw you dead asleep. She was so thankful. Tip toeing around to shut your laptop, when you wake back up again. "Fuck." She curses under her breath.

"Shit!" You say. "How long was I out for?" You ask her, that franticness coming back. "I dunno babe, you-" "No no no." You look at the clock. "It's 12. No..." Her eyes scan your face. Her worried look still evident. "Baby." She says sternly. Sensing what was approaching. "Oh God." You grab your chest trying to stay calm, but with the lack of sleep mixed with the lack of hunger your body just couldn't. A panic attack started to form.

Billie was quick to you, wanting to grab your face to get you to look at her, but truly not wanting to overwhelm you anymore. "Bub, please look at me." Tears build up, your breathing unsteady. "Baby, hey." Her voice was soft. "I-" You begin, feeling your chest tighten. "Can I touch you?" You finally look at her, nodding frantically, feeling like you're going insane. She was quick to grab your hand putting it on her chest. "Do your breathing. In.. and out." You shake your head but she just nods.

"Yes, in and out." Your eyes shut, trying so damn hard to focus on her voice. Then slowly your breathing comes back slightly. "There you go, that's it. Feel how still my heart is?" You nod, feeling her gently place her hand on your chest. "I want yours to be the same. Deep breath in, through your nose." You do so feeling a little bit calmer. "Then out." You breathe out, feeling the exhaustion finally hit you like a wave. "Few more times." She then says, feeling it still beating a bit fast. You nod, fixing your breathing until it was normal again. Things were silent. Until she spoke up.

"Talk to me sweet girl." Her thumb rubs under your eye, moving to the other. "I had to finish this stupid thing which I'm now coming to my senses was for no reason, I had time I don't know what got into me." That was a lie, you do know. And it was your evil coworker. She knew how hard you worked, knowing how intent you could sometimes be, she's the one who riled you up. "Bub." She knew you were lying too, she knew you better than anything. "Fucking Hannah. She's a stupid bitch oh my god. I absolutely hate her and the way she gets to me so easily." Billie grips both your hands in hers.

Making sure you're staying calm. "She bugs me too, I think you need to tell your boss because if anything she should be getting fired. Not you, because you haven't finished something in the right time. But her for being an evil fucking cunt." You sniffle, a small laugh to be heard. "Billie." "What! She is." You smile at her. "Thank you." You then say. "What for angel." Her hand comes to put any loose strand of hair behind your ear. "For being here, I feel like I've been awful." Her head shakes.

"So far from that, you've been working so hard even if it was worrisome. You were so determined and I admire you tons for that." Her words made you smile. "But I really do advice sleep, please." You nod. "Yeah.. I agree with you, I'm definitely feeling it now." She nods. "Dare I say good, its like you were a frozen statue over the past few days." You sigh a bit. "Sorry baby." She squeezes your hands, in an 'it's ok' way. "And Missy. You needa eat something." She then gets up grabbing a small snack from the fridge.

After that you get into bed with her for well needed rest. You turn to face her as her arm slings over your waist. "I missed you." She then says. "Missed snuggling with my girl."She finishes off. You give her a smile. "I'm sorry again, I truly am Billie I never wanted to worry you or for it to get so out of hand like it did." Her hand lands on your cheek so delicately. "Come to me in future my love, talk to me. That's what I'm here for yeah? I'm here for you always." Your body moves to cuddle hers, wrapping your arms around her. She holds you tightly. "From now on we talk hm?" Your head nods as you feel sleep taking over again. "We talk." - "Good." She kisses your forehead.

"I love you." You then say.

"I love you so much more."

Forever Will Last

Description: reader and reneè hit a bit of a rough patch after the vanity fair oscar party.

WARNINGS: 2,677 words of angst and happiness and fluff. reader plays for the us women's soccer team and angel city. guest appearances by christen press, tobin heath, and ali krieger.

y/n's heart broke as she saw the video. 

"towa bird and reneè rapp make their red carpet debut as a couple" 

as she sat on their couch, medal in hand, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. she had just gotten back from winning the gold cup and opted out of celebrations with her team in hopes of celebrating with her girlfriend.

she was going to propose to reneè that night. and now here she was, almost shattering her phone with how strong her grip was on it. she never really understood why adam never liked her, but she never thought it would go this low. 

he had proposed towa and reneè be in a pr relationship so that way the world didn't find out about her and y/n. plus, it would help launch both towa and reneè's careers. y/n didn't really have a choice, having to agree to the stunt. a little piece of her died every time she had to see towa and reneè close. 

she had composed herself enough to get up and pack some things. the season was starting soon and she still had training to go to. she grabbed all of her essentials for that and some extra clothes, finding the ring while packing. tears stung in her eyes as she put the little box on the bed. 

she found a piece of paper, deciding to leave reneè a note instead of a text. she took a deep breath, leaving the note on the bed and leaving. as she got in her car, she looked back at the house that once felt comforting to her. now, it just felt empty and hollow. 

she got in her car, having a destination in mind, and left without looking back. 

reneè and towa stumbled in the house hours later, towa laughing at the blonde who tripped over her dress. reneè had drank a lot but had sobered enough before she arrived home. "reneè, get yourself together. you don't wanna wake your girl up." reneè nodded and her and towa hugged before the girl left. 

reneè tiptoed to the bedroom, ready to take this dress and makeup off before melting in her girlfriend's arms. she missed y/n so much at the party. all she wanted was y/n to be with her, showing off her hot, soccer playing girlfriend. she and adam had gotten into a fight before she had left for the party, the man taking her away from watching her girlfriend play in the gold cup.

he had even gone the extra mile and held reneè's phone for her so people would actually believe that she wanted to be there. her and towa had enjoyed themselves, but even her friend could tell that the blonde didn't wanna be there. 

as she opened the bedroom door, she found the room empty. her heart dropped as she spotted the letter and the ring box on their bed. y/n was nowhere to be seen. she looked in their bathroom. 

nothing.

their guest room. 

nothing.

the blonde was on the verge of tears. her girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. she spotted the note once again and with shaky hands, opened it, tears finally spilling down her face. 

reneè,

i never thought i would do this.

before i say anything, i want you to know that i love you with every fiber of my being. 

but i can't do this anymore. i can't sit back and watch someone else get to show you off as theirs. i don't think i was ever okay with the idea but if it helped you skyrocket into stardom, i just went with it because i wanted to see you succeed. the world deserves to see you shine. which is why it's so hard to have to let you go.

i feel like an anchor. like i'm holding you back. you deserve to shine, stargirl. just not with me.

i wanted to be with you forever, but i guess forever wasn't meant for us. 

you deserve better reneè, and i really hope you find it.

i'll always love you.

shine on stargirl.

y/n

reneè was sobbing, leaving tear marks over the already dried ones on the note. she had no idea y/n felt like this. she couldn't imagine how the girl felt seeing her and towa do things that she wanted to do with reneè. 

reneè opened the ring box and sobbed harder at the beautiful diamond ring inside. she turned her phone on to call and notifications began pouring in, breaking reneè's heart even more.

her little brother had texted her a play by play of the gold cup final, expressing his excitement to see y/n again after her game winning goal. her parents had even texted her about the game. she went to twitter and saw the highlights of the game, sniffling as she watched y/n make the game winning shot to eventually win the final. she cried again when she saw a picture of y/n holding the cup and the gold ball awarded to her.

she immediately called alyah, telling her to come over. 

y/n sighed as she trekked up the familiar path to a familiar front door. she knocked three times and waited for the person to answer. the door opened, revealing christen press. she took one look at y/n and pulled her into a hug.

christen had a gift for knowing when her adopted daughters needed a hug. as soon as the older woman's arms wrapped around y/n, the dam broke. she began to sob in the woman's arms. hearing the commotion, a worried tobin heath and ali krieger came around the corner, their hearts breaking at the girl crying in christen's arms. 

tobin went to grab the bag y/n dropped as ali guided the two into the living room.

the women had no idea what had made y/n cry like this, but they were going to get to the bottom of it. quick.

back with reneè, alyah and reece had made it and were both consoling the blonde. she had since changed into one of y/n's national team hoodies and sweats. "reneè, have you tried calling her?" reneè shook her head, not saying much as she fiddled with the diamond ring on her left hand. alyah sighed, looking at reece for help.

the boy sighed and leaned forward. "nae, did y/n tell you how she felt about the stunt?" the blonde nodded. "the day adam brought it up, she expressed her concerns about it. i took them to heart but adam just brushed her off." alyah sighed. reece continued. "have you seen some of the videos fans make of you and towa? because if i didn't know you, i would think you're dating towa."

reneè looked at him confused as he pulled out his phone, opening TikTok.

video after video, reneè began to understand. if she saw videos like this of y/n and one of her teammates, she was sure she would react the same. alyah, while also seeing the videos, had tried calling y/n, but no one was answering. she just hoped y/n had the same support system that reneè had at the moment.

after explaining what she had been feeling and what was the breaking point, y/n waited for the older women to speak. tobin spoke first. "well, i think you two need to sit down and talk about how you feel and if reneè is open to finding a new team. i don't think she should work with someone that wants her to not be herself." the other woman agreed. 

ali took y/n's hands in hers. "y/n, listen to me. you cannot let that girl go. she makes you so incredibly happy and i don't want you to lose that happiness. you and reneè were made for each other. please do not let her go." y/n laid her head on christen's shoulder. "i just don't want to hold her back from her full potential. she deserves the world and i'm not sure i can give her that."

the women's hearts broke at the girl's words. after y/n's last breakup, they had seen how the girl had closed in on herself, her insecurities being blared to the public. when she met reneè, they saw a sliver of the old y/n back. they didn't want her to close back in on herself after she had worked so hard to overcome that.

back with reneè, after much talking with alyah and reece, she knew what she had to do. she grabbed her phone, calling adam. 

"we need to talk."

the nwsl season opener had come to quick for y/n's liking. angel city was playing bay fc for their home opener. y/n had been staying with christen and tobin for the remainder of the offseason. she hadn't talked to reneè since that night, but christen had been keeping up with the blonde for y/n. the girl was shocked when she learned that reneè had fired adam and gotten a new manager. 

christen and tobin had tried to get y/n to talk to reneè but the girl wouldn't budge. she stood by her choice to let reneè be the star she was meant to be. as the team took their places in line, y/n stood next to ali riley as they read off the rosters for the opening game. the woman rubbed y/n's back gently. "you okay joey?" 

y/n chuckled at the nickname. ali had given it to upon their first meeting. "yeah. i'm fine. just nerves." she didn't wanna tell the older woman she wished reneè was here to cheer her on. the defender smiled at her and they took their places on the bench, ready for the game to start.

reneè smiled at the usher who scanned her ticket as she stood off to the side, waiting for her brother, parents, alyah and reece to join her. her new manager, julie, had joined them too. reneè had fired adam on the grounds of being too controlling of her life, and she found julie shortly after. 

after explaining the situation she was in, julie had immediately gotten with towa's manager and released a statement explaining that their relationship was no more than a stunt and that they are very close friends and collaborators. renee's fans had blasted adam on all socials about what happened and were very much in support of reneè. 

the blonde had decided that she wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of her getting what she loved. and she loved y/n and wanted to spend the rest of her life with her. 

so, diamond ring on her hand, and one of y/n's jerseys on, she and her group walked to the vip section of the stadium and waited in anticipation for the game. 

obviously, with cameras in 2024, people began to notice the blonde sitting pitch side with her family. people took pictures and posted them on socials, speculating.

@reneefan2: ARE RENEÈ AND Y/N TOGETHER? BE STILL MY HEART

@y/nisthegoat: GUYS I JUST SAW RENEÈ RAPP AT THE ANGEL CITY GAME AND GIRLY HAD ON A Y/N JERSEY AND A VERY INTERESTING THING ON HER LEFT RING FINGER!! OMG

@reneerappnews: Reneè Rapp spotted at the Angel City home opener, sporting a y/n y/l/n jersey. *photo attached*

@uswntfan13: guys. reneè just took a picture with my friend and when we asked who she was here for, she just smirked and said "my baby." OH MY GOD??

come halftime, the entire stadium and world seemed to know that reneè was at the game, except the person she was here for. y/n had never really been the person to check her phone during halftime but some of her teammates were and when they saw reneè here, they all shared a knowing look, deciding not to tell y/n.

after the halftime pep talk, the teams made their way back onto the field. at about the 65th minute, y/n made her way to the ref to sub in for sydney leroux, who happened to be wearing the captain's band. the crowd started to scream louder as the hype video for y/n began to play on the jumbotron. 

reneè noticed and pulled out her phone to take a picture. as they showed y/n getting ready to sub in on the screen, she snapped the picture, posting it to her instagram story with the caption "captain, my captain ❤️". she locked her phone and began to watch the game, tracking y/n intently.

at around the 85th minute, angel city got awarded a corner kick. with the score being 0-0, the home fans watched in anticipation to see if this was going to end the game or send it into extra time. y/n paced around in the box, waiting for the right moment. 

ali riley put her hand up, signaling the kick, and shot the ball into the box. y/n jumped, and thanks to her jumping ability, headed the ball into the back of the net, scoring. 

the stadium went wild, as the team huddled around y/n, screaming and cheering. they all got back into position and played the last few minutes of the game before the final whistle blew, signaling the end. the stadium erupted as the players shook hands and did their laps around the stadium.

as y/n was signing a young girl's jersey, christen came up behind her and hugged her. "i'll take over here, there's someone who wants to see you." y/n nodded and hugged the little girl and turned to walk back in the direction christen came from. as she walked, she noticed tobin standing next to someone but y/n couldn't see who. 

as she got closer, she recognized that blonde head of hair anywhere.

reneè.

the girl stopped walking and looked at reneè in shock. she wasn't expecting the girl to be here, of all places. the blonde had finished her conversation with tobin and spotted y/n standing a few feet off, frozen in shock. the blonde smiled and walked the remaining distance to y/n stopping a few feet in front of her.

"hi." y/n shook herself out of her shocked state to answer. "hey." 

reneè took this as her opportunity to speak. 

"i'm so so sorry baby. i should've known to shut that shit down before it started. i thought you were okay with it and i was wrong. and when i came home that night and you weren't there, a piece of my heart went with you. and then i saw the note and the ring." at the mention of the ring, y/n's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. she then noticed the diamond sitting on reneè's left hand. 

reneè noticed what y/n was looking at and smiled. "yeah. i found the ring. and reading your note helped me realize what i had to do. i did have some help." she looked back. y/n followed her sight and saw reneè's family, alyah, reece, preath and ali all standing off to the side, bright smiles directed at y/n.

y/n gasped as reneè took the ring off her finger, gently grabbing y/n's hand and placing it in her palm.

"will you ask me?" y/n blushed as she slowly got down on one knee.

"reneè, i never imagined proposing to you while all sweaty and gross from a game but here we are. from the moment we met, i knew you were the one i wanted to spend the rest of my life with. you bring light into my world, filling it with joy and laughter. i cannot imagine a future without you by my side. that being said, reneè mary jane rapp, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

reneè had tears running down her face as she nodded. "yes! a million times yes!" everyone around them cheered as y/n stood, sliding the ring back on reneè's hand. reneè leaned in and kissed y/n so passionately, it was like the rest of the world disappeared around them, letting them have their special moment.

twitter the next day erupted at the post of one picture by the official USWNT instagram page: 

reneè rapp and angel city forward y/n y/l/n are ENGAGED! we wish the couple nothing but the best as they enter this next chapter of their lives! welcome to the family, reneè!

𝑴𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒆/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The flat was warm, but the heat did little to soothe the chills wracking your body. You were curled up on the couch, cocooned in a blanket, sniffling miserably as Alexia stood over you, holding a small plastic cup filled with a suspiciously thick orange liquid. Her eyes were narrowed, her expression caught somewhere between concern and exasperation.

She crouched down, placing the cup on the coffee table in front of you, and gently brushed some of your messy hair from your forehead.

“Amor,” she said softly, her Spanish accent making the word sound so tender you almost felt guilty. Almost. “You have to take it. Please.”

Your response was a muffled groan as you turned your head away from her, burying it into the couch cushion. Your throat ached, your nose was so congested that even breathing felt like a chore, and your fever had you feeling as though you were floating just above reality. Yet the thought of choking down the bitter medicine was somehow worse than enduring the flu.

“No,” you rasped, voice hoarse and thick. “Not taking it.”

Alexia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cariño, you can’t get better like this. It’s just one sip.

You peeked at her over the edge of the blanket, narrowing your eyes. “I don’t need it. I’ll get better on my own.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she crossed her arms, fixing you with a pointed look. “That is not how it works, and you know it.”

You turned your head away again, stubbornly burrowing deeper into the couch. Alexia groaned softly, her frustration clear, but when she spoke again, her tone was calm and measured. “I know it’s disgusting, but it’s only a moment. After, I’ll bring you tea. Okay? Con miel, like you like.”

You were tempted, but the thought of the medicine still made you shudder. “No.”

This time, her patience began to slip. “Amor, you are acting like a niña,” she muttered, switching to Spanish as she often did when she was flustered. “You need to-”

Before she could finish, you suddenly leapt off the couch, narrowly dodging her outstretched hands. Wrapped in your blanket like a cape, you dashed toward the hallway, wobbling slightly from the fever but determined to escape.

Alexia stood there for a moment, stunned, before she groaned again, louder this time. “En serio?” she muttered under her breath before following after you.

You were already halfway down the hallway, tugging the blanket off so you could move faster. Clad in one of her oversized Barça shirts that hung off one shoulder and a pair of underwear, you glanced back over your shoulder, catching sight of Alexia closing the distance with long, purposeful strides.

“Nope, nope, nope!” you mumbled to yourself, trying to pick up the pace, but your fevered state made you sluggish, and she was gaining on you quickly.

“Stop running!” she called after you, her voice exasperated but tinged with amusement. “You’re going to make yourself worse!”

“I’m fine!” you croaked, ducking into the bedroom and slamming the door behind you. You pressed your back against it, panting slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

From the other side of the door, you heard Alexia’s muffled voice. “This is ridiculous, amor. Open the door.”

“Never!” you shouted back, your voice cracking mid-word.

There was a long pause, and you could practically feel her annoyance through the wood. “You know I can just wait you out, right?”

You groaned, sliding down to sit on the floor with your back still pressed to the door. A moment later, you heard her sigh, followed by the soft sound of the doorknob turning.

Your heart sank as you realized you’d forgotten to lock it.

The door opened slowly, pushing you forward slightly as Alexia stepped into the room. She looked down at you, her arms crossed, her expression both stern and affectionate. “Do you really you can outrun me? Like this?”

You scrambled to your feet, darting around her before she could grab you. “Yes!” you said, though your hoarse voice and clumsy movements didn’t exactly scream confidence.

Alexia turned to follow you, shaking her head. “Eres imposible.”

For the next several minutes, the flat turned into a battlefield. You darted from room to room, using furniture and sheer determination to stay out of her grasp. Alexia, to her credit, remained calm, though you could see her frustration growing with every near miss.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your luck ran out. You’d misjudged the distance between the couch and the coffee table, and Alexia took advantage of your hesitation.

Her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and she hauled you back against her chest. “Enough,” she said firmly, her voice low in your ear.

“No!” you whined, squirming in her hold, but she was too strong.

With a sigh, Alexia sank down onto the floor, pulling you with her. She settled you between her legs, locking her arms around your waist and crossing her ankles over yours to keep you in place. “That’s it,” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You struggled weakly, but you had absolutely no strength left in you. “You’re mean,” you muttered, pouting as you turned your head to glare at her.

She arched a brow, unimpressed. “I’m trying to help you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you slumped against her. “I don’t need help.”

Alexia reached for the medicine cup, which she’d set down nearby during the chase. “Open your mouth.”

“No.”

“Cariño,” she said warningly, her tone firm.

You glared at her stubbornly, your lips pressed into a tight line.

She sighed again, shaking her head. “Do I need to hold your nose?”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head. “You wouldn’t.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Try me.”

Realizing you were out of options, you let out a dramatic groan before opening your mouth reluctantly. She quickly tipped the medicine onto your tongue, her other hand holding the back of your head to keep you steady.

You grimaced as the bitter liquid slid down your throat, shuddering in disgust as you swallowed. “Ugh,” you coughed, your voice thick with congestion. “That’s awful.”

Alexia set the cup aside, loosening her hold on you but keeping her arms around your waist. “I know,” she said softly, her hand brushing some of your hair back. “But it will help.”

You sniffled wetly, a deep cough shaking your chest as you pulled away from her. “You’re the worst,” you mumbled, though there was no real heat behind the words.

Alexia just smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Te amo también, mi amor.”

Still pouting, you climbed to your feet, wobbling slightly as you turned toward the bedroom. “I’m going to bed,” you announced, your voice still hoarse.

Alexia watched you go, her expression a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “Good,” she called after you. “And I’ll be right there to make sure you don’t get up again.”

You didn’t respond, too busy muttering to yourself as you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Alexia shaking her head with a quiet laugh as she rises to her feet to follow you.

The bedroom was dark and silent save for the muffled sounds of your congested breathing. You’d buried yourself completely under the covers, cocooned tightly as if blocking out the world - or more specifically, Alexia. She leaned in the doorway for a moment, watching the lump of blankets that was you before she let out a quiet sigh.

“Amor,” she called softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “You can’t hide forever.”

The lump under the blankets shifted, and she heard a muffled sniffle, followed by a grumble of protest.

“Come on,” she coaxed, crouching down beside the bed. Her fingers found the edge of the covers, and she tugged gently. “Déjame verte. Let me see you.”

“No,” you rasped, your voice muffled by the layers of fabric and congestion.

Alexia rolled her eyes, her lips quirking in affectionate amusement. “You’re so dramatic.” She tugged at the blankets again, but you held them tightly around you, refusing to budge.

“Cariño,” she tried again, her tone firmer now. “Let me in.”

When you didn’t respond, she sighed, her hands pausing on the covers. “Está bien,” she said, almost to herself. “If you won’t let me in, I’ll have to come in myself.”

Before you could protest, Alexia wriggled her way beneath the covers. The space was stiflingly warm, the air thick and heavy from both your fever and the cocoon of blankets. You were curled up tightly on your side, facing away from her, your shoulders tense as you stubbornly ignored her presence.

“Dios mío,” Alexia muttered under her breath, wiping at her forehead dramatically. “Hace calor aquí.”

“Then leave,” you grumbled, your voice hoarse.

She ignored your petulant tone, scooting closer until her chest was pressed against your back. Her arms wrapped around you, tugging you gently into her embrace. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t relax either, your body still stiff in her hold.

“You’re sweaty,” she teased, her voice low and teasing near your ear.

You huffed but didn’t reply, shifting slightly as if trying to create distance between you. Alexia tightened her hold, her lips brushing against the back of your head in a fleeting kiss.

“Cariño,” she murmured, her tone softening. “Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” you mumbled, though the petulant edge in your voice said otherwise.

“Sí, you are,” she replied, her hand slipping under the hem of your oversized shirt. Her palm was warm against your bare, clammy skin as she rested it on your side.

You stilled at her touch, your breath hitching slightly when her fingers began to move. They trailed lightly across your side, her nails grazing your skin just enough to tickle.

“Alexia,” you warned, squirming slightly.

“What?” she asked, her voice full of mock innocence. Her fingers continued their playful assault, trailing over the sensitive skin just below your ribs.

“Stop,” you said, trying to twist away from her.

“Hmm… no,” she replied, a small laugh escaping her. “You deserve this por hacerme correr detrás de ti.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, though you quickly tried to hide it. “You’re evil,” you muttered, your voice still tinged with congestion.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her fingers pausing their tickling to rest gently on your side. “But you still love me.”

You didn’t respond, your head ducking slightly as you tried to bury your face in the pillow. Alexia chuckled softly, her hand sliding up to rest just beneath your ribs.

“Say it,” she teased, pressing another kiss to the back of your head.

“No,” you replied stubbornly.

“Cariño,” she said, her voice dipping into that low, affectionate tone that always made your resolve crumble.

You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing as you melted into her embrace. “I love you,” you murmured, your voice soft and muffled.

“Te quiero también,” she replied, her lips brushing against the back of your neck.

You didn’t say anything else, your pout finally dissipating as Alexia’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your side. The warmth of her body against yours and the steady rhythm of her breathing began to lull you into a hazy state of comfort.

**

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