#Bridge City Sessions

[boombatze]

Thank You BRIDGE CITY SINNERS!

1000 Dank an die Bridge City Sinners & EvilMrSod für die wunderschöne Musik. Und Danke auch an beinspiredby_photography für die Fotos.

Wow, war für ein Abend bzw. Spätnachmittag 😍😘🤩🥳 1000 Dank an die Bridge City Sinners & EvilMrSod für die wunderschöne Musik. Dankesküsse gehen natürlich auch raus an Paul & Anja vom Bandhaus, Ebi für den Ton, meinem wundervollen Awareness-Team, der graziösen Einlass-Crew sowie selbstverständlich allen Gäst*innen, ihr wart ein Klasse-Publikum! Danke auch an beinspiredby_photography für die…

[theostrophywife]

the crush theory.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.

author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣

Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love. 

Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

Until that one fateful fall morning. 

The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze. 

The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students. 

As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned. 

Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him. 

Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.

Today, you were front and center. 

Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up. 

Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him. 

“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?” 

Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment. 

You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.” 

“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?” 

“You know my name?” 

Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.

“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.” 

You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous. 

"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.” 

Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.” 

He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.” 

"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."

"Is that good or bad?"

Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve. 

"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."

“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.” 

“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"

Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."

"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.” 

Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” 

“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.” 

“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”

Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on. 

“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.” 

Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.

“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.” 

“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”

“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly. 

“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.” 

“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.” 

“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.” 

“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.” 

“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.” 

Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.” 

Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes. 

Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you. 

As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen. 

Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill. 

Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend. 

In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?” 

You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”

The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm. 

“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.” 

Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.” 

Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.” 

“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied. 

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”

“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo. 

Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day. 

“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.” 

“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.” 

Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.” 

Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.” 

“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.” 

“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.” 

“Yeah, because she likes you.” 

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?” 

“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.” 

“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?” 

“Whatever you say, peach.” 

“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced. 

Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.” 

The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.

“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him. 

“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.” 

“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively. 

“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?” 

“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.” 

“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.” 

“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”

“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy. 

“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.” 

“Thanks, Pans.” 

“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap. 

“Like I said, we’re friends.” 

“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?” 

As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising. 

“Knock yourself out, mate.” 

Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin. 

“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.” 

“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.” 

Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”

“Riddle’s probably not her type.” 

Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.” 

Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.” 

“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?” 

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.” 

Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied. 

“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?” 

Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations. 

“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.” 

As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.

“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” 

“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.” 

“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.” 

“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.” 

Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table. 

Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.” 

Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.” 

Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.” 

The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him. 

“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.” 

“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll. 

“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.” 

The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo. 

“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.” 

“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.” 

“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” 

“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.” 

“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected. 

You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” 

“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.” 

“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.” 

Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there. 

“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends. 

“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.” 

“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.” 

“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.” 

“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.” 

“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?” 

You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.” 

The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade. 

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just friends my arse.”

“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!” 

“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.” 

Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.” 

He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.

When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.

Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you. 

The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.” 

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.” 

“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.” 

“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”

“I rest my case, you mean old grump.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.” 

“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they’ve got this crazy theory.” 

“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?” 

Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.” 

White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly. 

“You alright there, peach?” 

“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?” 

You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.” 

“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?” 

At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. 

“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.” 

“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.” 

“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?” 

“I am a bloody idiot.” 

“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.” 

Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you. 

“Scary?” 

“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.” 

“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?” 

“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.” 

Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."

You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."

Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.

Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.

It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you. 

“It’s about time, Berkshire.” 

“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.” 

“Not so scary now, am I?” 

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.” 

You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street. 

Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.

If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.

“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”

With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.” 

Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

[kkoehn17]

A Golden Gate Birthday (Part 2)

A Golden Gate Birthday (Part 2)

[bruhnze]

Personal records - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

This is for the pookie that asked. Thank you @okaybronze i had fun writing this, this one is dedicated to you!

Thank you to this, this, this, this and thisssss anon. (you guys sure know how to inspire me)

Summary: This is in an alternative universe where Ona and Lucy are not footballers. Lucy is a personal trainer, Ona is a buisnesswoman.

Wordcount: a bigggggg one 12k+, so i advise to get comfy

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut. It has a lottt of plot bcs i got carried away, but what's new :)

I hope you like it, and i hope i didn't make any mistakes while copy-pasting this thing to here, as this was quite the big one and i proofread in Word so.. if something doesn't make sense, you can ask me, i think i did it right tho :)

Personal Records.

The Batlle family was one of the richest families on the whole planet of earth. In the last years of his working life, Ona's grandfather had completely invested in the internet and technology. His eldest son, Ona's father, had taken over the business and helped it to even greater success. They dominated the tech industry, from hospital equipment to mobile phones and coffee machines.

With so much money and only two children, Ona and her brother Joan were doing anything but bad.

Yet, especially since she had that head start, Ona wanted to create a legacy of her own. Unlike Joan, who filled his time with vacations and his DJ career.

But Ona’s passion wasn’t tech, she liked using her iPhone, yes, but she had no special talent or interest in the subject.

No. Her passion was architecture. She had studied it in college and with her dad paying her tuition,  it gave her all the time in the world to go networking at business events. One thing led to another, and by the age of 20 she already owned 15 buildings.

Now, just after her 25th birthday, she had a portfolio of hundreds of buildings and apartments, and was a very well-known high-class real estate agent all over Europe.

She didn’t like the way her life was filled to the brim with meeting after meeting and the fact that she sometimes felt like she was living in airplanes more than in buildings, the thing she loved most in the world, but it was worth it if she could once again sell a characteristic old building to the right owner.

That was the most perfect thing about her profession in Ona’s opinion, sometimes a house was perfect for a certain type of person, she couldn't explain it, it was just a feeling, but when she closed such a deal, it was one of the few moments that Ona could feel a little bit of satisfaction and happiness flowing through her body.

This had been a problem for a long time, she had been through some difficult years, feeling lonely at times and working far too hard without having an outlet.

After talking to some professionals and trying a few things, Ona discovered what worked perfectly for her: so she hired a personal assistant and got on weekly exercise sessions.

Sophia was a perfect PA, she was a 33 year old woman who was dedicated to work just as much as Ona was and most of all she could speak English perfectly, as she was from the United Kingdom. That was exactly what Ona needed as she got most tired from answering all the endless calls that she received.

The exercising also worked out perfectly. Her PA always found a personal trainer for her, no matter what city they were staying in. The first few months Ona really had to get in shape, but now she always came back with a wonderfully empty head after sweating for those two hours and of course, the six-pack she ended up with was also a great bonus.

This summer she had to spend in London, it was not really her preferred place to be for the next month or two, as English summers were not really something to write home about, but with the deals she had waiting for her, she happily went.

What also helped was the beautiful apartment she had in the center of London, overlooking the bridge, it was one of her favorite houses.

But besides the deals she had to close, she also wanted to relax and exercise a bit. Maybe she would even have time to go shopping.

Wednesday – Ona’s penthouse, London

A week before the big deal, Sophia and Ona arrived in London.

"Miss Batlle," the doorman said, as they walked into the building where Ona ‘lived’, or at least she did for 1 or 2 months a year. She was surprised they guy remembered and greeted him happily.

‘’You sure you don’t want an hotel room?’’ Ona asked as they were standing in the elevator.

Sophia shook her head, ‘’for me it’s easier to be close to you, safes me travel time’’ she sincerely confirmed, ‘’oh gosh, do you want some privacy, I’m sorry I didn’t-

‘’No, no, está bien’’ Ona smiled, ‘’I admire your work ethic, I was just wondering if you didn’t miss privacy’’.

‘’Well your penthouse is very big’’ Sophia smiled, ‘’and it’s not like I have a husband to call or something’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona grinned, ‘’our love lives are doomed’’.

A careful smile tugged on Sophia’s mouth, ‘’well, it has been a while since I had to leave space for a date in your schedule’’.

Ona smiled internally at the way Sophia got more and more comfortable with her, she was usually very professional, something Ona admired, but sometimes she felt Sophia and her could be friends a bit more, as she suspected her PA was actually a pretty funny person.

‘’It has’’ Ona confirmed, ‘’i'm basically celibate at this point’’, she added chuckling.

‘’Ona!’’.

At the same time the elevator stopped at the top floor with a ding.

‘’It is true though’’, Ona said as she stepped out the elevator to open the door ‘’maybe I should add searching dating sites to your to do’s’’.

Sophia groaned as she followed her, ‘’I’ll do it if you would really want that, but I do want to show you my current to do list before’’.

‘’I’m joking Soph’’ Ona said as she took of her heels and dropped her handbag, ‘’I trust you a lot, but, I do think love is something that just needs to happen, I don’t believe in dating apps’’.

‘’Well I do think you need to go out to make that happen’’ Sophia chuckled, ‘’or are you hoping to have a really hot woman buying a house off of you?’’.

‘’Hmm’’, Ona said as she walked into the big living area and stared outside of the windows, ‘’that would be the best thing ever, and I’d know she got taste’’.

Laughing Sophia walked in behind her, pulling her suitcase along ‘’do I got the same room as last time?’’.

‘’Mhm’’.

Sophia laughed to herself as she walked to the familiar room she had slept in before, recognizing that Ona had entered her thoughtful mode, something that often happened in places with a good view, and when Ona was thinking it was best not to disturb her.

..

They had ordered dinner, a bit tired from the travel they had decided to eat in and discussing the details of their work trip and calling it an early night.

Sophia had already set up meetings with various clients in a rented meeting room, made a list with properties they needed to visit and when the viewings would be and had booked a personal trainer.

‘’Sadly she is only available once a week’’ Sophia had said, knowing Ona liked to exercise two times a week for two hours, ‘’but she was the only one available in this period, apparently most trainers have this thing called -summer break-‘’ she joked, ‘’but she is really good, I read a dozen of reviews and she also trains athletes when they’re in between seasons’’.

‘’She?’’ Ona asked after the PA was done talking.

Sophia stilled, ‘’oh is that not-

‘’It’s okay, just surprised’’.

‘’I read she can be quite the pusher, helping people break their personal records’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’well I hope she doesn’t expect such a level of me’’.

Sophia frowned, ‘’you’re well fit, I’ve seen you in the pool, you have a killer body’’.

‘’Aesthetics is different to performance’’ Ona decided, ‘’anyways, thanks for arranging that, you’re the best’’.

..

Friday morning – Ona’s penthouse

‘’Okay I’m heading out to the gym then’’ Ona called through the living space.

‘’Have fun’’ Sophia called back, ‘’don’t break too many personal records!’’.

..

Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge

It was a nice building, Ona was pleased as she walked inside to search for the gym owned by one ‘Lucy Bronze’.

Ona thought it was a perfect name for a business owner and she liked the way the nameplates that showed the way were also done in Bronze, it was chic.

The Catalan businesswoman got to the front desk and told the lady behind it her name.

"Ah for Bronze herself" the lady smiled, "you may use dressing room 2, you will recognize it by the number on the door, when you've changed you just go through the other door in the changing room and then you're in the gym".

"Great. Thank you." Ona said in her business voice. It just happened whenever she spoke to people that were working.

"You can leave your bag inside the changing room but we've also got lockers".

"It's okay" Ona said, "only have some clothes with me".

The changing room looked very nice, Ona appreciated the way that this whole place was set up, it was not clinical or characterless, but it was very neat.

After changing, Ona went into the gym.

A dark-haired woman, just a little taller than her stood with her back to the door, the silhouette was muscular built, broad shoulders protruding from the tank top she wore.

Ona cleared her throat, ´´hello´´.

 The woman turned around from what she was doing and met her with a smile, ´´oh hey´´ she said, ´´uhm´´, she strutted over to Ona and offered her hand, ´´Lucy´´.

´´Ona´´, Ona replied as she mirrored the smile Lucy was wearing. Ona was delighted to notice the woman infront of was rather hot, but she didn´t want to be objectifying and most of all, she was here to clear her head, not to drool over a woman. So she shook the thought from her head and focused back on what she was here for.

´´So´´ Lucy said as she retracted her hand.

Only then Ona realized she was shaking it for a little too long.

´´Oh yes, I´m here for a two hour training session´´.

´´Yes´´ Lucy chuckled, Ona thought it made her look cute, ´´so what are we working with, you didn´t attach a schedule or any of your records or something, did you bring them?´´.

‘’What?’’ Ona said confused, ‘’records?’’.

‘’Yeah what field are you in?’’ Lucy tried, ‘’What do you need working on this summer?’’.

‘’Ohhh’’ Ona breathed out with a laugh, realizing what Lucy was thinking, ‘’I am not an athlete’’.

Lucy scrunched her nose and her head turned slightly in confusion, ‘’not?’’.

‘’No I’m town for business and I always train with a personal trainer, my PA booked you’’.

‘’Oh’’.

‘’Do you not train, uh, regular people?’’.

‘’Oh uh, yes’’, Lucy blushed.

‘’But?’’.

‘’Okay no offense’’ Lucy said carefully, ‘’but they’re usually.. a bit.. older’’.

Now it was Ona’s turn to be confused, ‘’why?’’.

‘’it’s expensive’’ Lucy said, hating herself for being so awkward.

‘’ohhh’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’well we better spend those expensive minutes good, shall we?’’.

‘’Yeah I’m sorry, I’m trying to work on that whole -not judging people by their cover- thing’’.

‘’It’s okay’’ Ona said cheerfully ‘’I come to clear my head before I have some important meetings next week’’.

‘’Great’’, Lucy said as she had called herself back to her senses ‘’and how can I help you with that’’.

‘’Well, I always go to a personal trainer because I don’t know anything about training, so I just - listen, do it and enjoy the muscle ache the day after’’.

‘’Hey’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’people always call me crazy when I say - I enjoy that’’.

Ona shrugged, ‘’one of the few things that make me feel alive’’.

“Okay, so you want to get completely worn out” Lucy chuckled, “we’ll make that happen”.

Ona gulped as Lucy took off, damn, this woman was cute.

They had been working out for almost 2 hours without much talking, Ona enjoyed it, Lucy respected the fact that she was doing this for relaxation, not for dumb chit chat, she hated when trainers were like that.

‘’Do you have a neck issue?’’ Lucy asked out of the blue.

Ona looked up, surprised but not in a negative sense ‘’yeah, how did you notice?’’.

‘’It’s stiff’’ Lucy stated, ‘’ I graduated as a sports physiotherapist’’ she offered as an explanation.

‘’Really?’’.

 ‘’Yes and right now I’m working on some injury research, stretching and massages are a great interventions for stiffness’’.

‘’So next time we start with neck stretches?’’ Ona joked.

Lucy nodded, ‘’best recipe is stretching – exercise – tissue massage’’.

''Well then, guess I'll do that next time, sometimes my neck really hurts, so I hope it will help''.

‘’Your neck hurts?’’.

‘’Yes, I always just assume it’s my stress traveling to my weak spot’’.

‘’Do you want me to massage that right now really quick? We’ve got-‘’ she looked at her watch, ‘’-10 minutes left’’.

‘’You?’’ Ona let out before she could stop herself.

Lucy crooked her head ‘’yeah?’’ she laughed, ‘’who else?’’.

‘’Ahh’’ Ona chuckled as she spotted the physio bench in the corner of the gym, ''that's where that thing is for''.

‘’Yup’’ Lucy said as she swayed on her feet, ‘’So cooling down? Or quick rub down of the neck?’’.

‘’Well if you’re offering..’’ Ona said as she looked at the big hands Lucy fiddled with, ‘’I do have to warn you that I’m a bit sweaty’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’if you weren’t I wouldn’t be good at my job’’.

...

Friday - Ona's penthouse

‘’Hello’’, Ona called out as she stepped back into her apartment. She felt amazing, Lucy was great with her hands and after the hot shower she took, she felt totally relaxed.

‘’How was it?’’, Sophia asked from behind her computer.

‘’fucking amazing’’ Ona said dreamily, before she stepped into the living room and snapped back to reality, ‘’uh yeah, it was good’’.

Sophia chuckled, ‘’whattt happeneddddd?’’.

‘’She’s hot’’ Ona said as she went through the fridge, ‘’and great with her hands’’.

‘’WHAT?’’ Sophia yelped, ‘’did you hook up with her?’’.

‘’Oh dios mío Soph! no, who do you think I am!’’ Ona shook her head amused, ‘’she gave me a sports massage’’.  

‘’Ohhh, hot and handy’’ Sophia chuckled.

‘’You sure you couldn’t book her for more than once a week?’’.

‘’I’ll try again for you’’ Sophia said with a grin, ‘’maybe I can book her for some nightly exercises’’.

‘’Soph!’’ Ona said sternly, ‘’no objectification!’’.

‘’Sorry miss Batlle’’ Sophia answered timidly, ‘’I’ll call them later’’.

‘’It’s okay’’ Ona smiled, ‘’thanks for getting groceries’’ she said as she took eggs from the fridge.

...

Tuesday evening - Bronze Fitness Forge, London

It was a couple of days later, Sophia had bribed Lucy Bronze’s secretary if she could at least ask the woman herself if she could do a couple of more lessons, ‘’Hello, yes, Miss Batlle’s PA, uhm, my boss, she wants to exercise two times a week and I was wondering if you had some more spaces available, she doesn’t mind if it’s outside of office hours, or if it costs extra’’.

Eventually she had persuaded the woman, one and a half times the rate for two hours in the evening, when Lucy actually exercised herself.

Sophia didn't mind making a little effort, she was just happy that Ona was okay with the trainer, that couldn’t always be said.

So this night, at a quarter to eight, Ona walked towards the building with the ‘Bronze Fitness Forge’ logo and headed in.

‘’Hey, miss Batlle’’ Lucy called out from a few meters behind and started jogging towards the door.

Ona held it open for her, ‘’you can call me Ona’’ she said as she let the woman pass.

‘’Oh right, hi Ona’’ Lucy smiled awkwardly, ‘’uhm, to the gym?’’.

‘’Mhmm’’.

Lucy unlocked the door and let Ona in, out of habit Ona walked to dressing room 2, the one she’d used earlier this week too.

Lucy hesitated about what to do, she cringed at herself, she wished she was a bit smoother, ''hey uhm, my stuff is also in 2'' she said as she stopped the door from closing.

''Oh'', Ona looked up, ''i can go to the other-

'''No i'll just take my bag'' Lucy rushed to say.

''Oh no'' Ona said, ''it doesn't bother me, you can change in here as far as I'm concerned''.

‘’O-Okay’’ Lucy said as she looked at the smaller woman, ‘’sure you don’t mind?’’.

Ona looked up with a smile, ‘’should I?’’.

Lucy looked startled ‘’No no, I was just --’’ she mumbled and swallowed the rest of the sentence.

Ona zipped her bag open and got her gym shoes out, she now stood with her back to Lucy, ‘’anyways, had a good dinner?’’ she asked, trying to start some conversation.

‘’Uh yeah’’ Lucy said, now also starting to get her things ‘’I cooked some chicken and vegetables’’.

‘’Nice’’ Ona said as she shimmied down her pants.

Lucy gaze fell on the Spaniards behind, she shook her head, she couldn’t be looking at a client like this, ‘’d-did you have a good dinner?’’ she asked, taking of her shirt.

Ona turned around and sat down on the bench to put her shorts on ‘’yeah I had-‘’  she lagged as she saw the shirtless woman infront of her, who was currently standing with her arms up, struggling to find her arm holes it seemed, she cleared her throat ‘’uhm, I had a business dinner, it was nice but sometimes I get a bit tired of it’’.

Lucy’s head popped up and they looked at eachother. Lucy smiled, ‘’is that why you needed more exercise?’’.

Ona didn’t feel the need to explain anything, frankly, there was not really anything to explain. She had settled for one time a week as she hadn’t known the woman was hot an amazing personal trainer, now that she knew, her assistant had booked her some more time, so she settled on just saying ‘’yes’’.

‘’What branch are you in anyways?’’ Lucy asked as she switched her pants.

‘’Uhm’’ Ona said as she took of her top, ‘’I am a real estate agent’’.

‘’Really’’ Lucy stared at her, partly because she was surprised, partly because the woman looked mesmerizing.

Ona sat up and digged through her bag, it was awkward that she still had to put on her sports bra ‘’yes, I have real estate in a few cities throughout Europe’’ she said and finally found the sports bra. She figured she just had to put no attention to it and quickly get it over with.

Bronze sat down to put her shoes on, ‘’oh.. real estate in a few cities throughout Europe’’ she repeated, ‘’impressive’’.

‘’Thanks’’ Ona said as she took her bra of, ‘’your business is too’’ she turned her head to Lucy ‘’how old are you anyways?’’.

Lucy looked up and blushed when she saw Ona’s bare back, ‘’uhm, I’m 32, and you?’’.

Ona smiled at her, ‘’25’’.

‘’Ah shit, we aren't past your bedtime, are we?’’ Lucy mocked and grinned.

Ona clutched her sports bra infront of her chest and turned around with narrowed eyes, ‘’don’t mock me’’ she said sternly, like how she’d put her workers in place. She had dealt with enough age discrimination, it annoyed her that Lucy did this.

Lucy apologized ‘’oh I’m sorry.. uhm.. I didn’t mean it like that’’. Ona turned around and quickly pulled the sports bra on,.

‘’Uhm, I will start to set up some things, see you in a bit’’ Lucy said before she quickly rushed out of the locker room.

Ona finished dressing up by putting her shoes on and followed her.

‘’Hey I’m sorry, it’s just-  Ona stopped as she saw Lucy carrying a weight plate to the matts.

Lucy smiled ‘’I’m sorry too, I am a bit stupid sometimes, you should take everything I say with a pinch of salt.. i suck at talking to people that’s why I chose sports’’.

‘’-sometimes people do not take me serious because of my age’’ Ona confessed, ‘’it’s a bit of a sensitive topic for me’’.

‘’I am sorry’’, Lucy said sincerely.

Ona shook her head, ‘’you’re aloud to make jokes, I should be able to deal with them’’.

‘’Noted, see if I can help you improve on that front too’’ Lucy grinned.

‘’too?’’.

‘’Oh yeah-‘’ Lucy said with renewed energy, ‘’I mean, I was going to ask you about it - but by the way you move, I think your neck feels better’’.

Ona smiled, ‘’oh soo much, I have had the best days honestly, how could I forget - I wanted to thank you for it, I feel so… loose, uh, supple’’.

Lucy held her hands up, ‘’magic hands’’ she said with a wink. Immediately cringing at herself.

Ona laughed, ‘’they seem to be’’.

‘’So’’ Lucy cleared her throat, ‘’stretching, than exercising, which I will leave you to do a bit more on your own than last time because I need to do mine as well, and then last 20 minutes another tissue massage’’.

‘’Sounds good’’.

The stretching went well, Ona learned a few exercises she had never done before, 'good for the back and neck' Lucy had said, and had followed them all before the real work started.

Lucy finished her warm up a bit earlier than she did, which made sense, as she had been warming up all day and she went to set up some weights for herself.

When Bronze started squatting weights with her back to Ona, she couldn´t help but have peek every once in a while.

After her lunges were done Ona asked what she was doing next.

Lucy proposed for Ona to do a bit of cardio on the stair-master, a machine she hated, but Ona agreed and went on it.

Lucy kept squatting, Ona saw her adding small, little plates to the bar each time she got it.

After a few minutes, the Spaniards thoughts got interrupted, the low grunts were swapped with a yelp, she was startled and almost fell of the stair-master, luckily enough she could jump of in one piece and put the machine off.

‘’What happened?’’ Ona said as she walked towards the English trainer.

Lucy looked up as she undid her waistbelt and wrist wraps, ‘’hm?’’.

Ona came closer, ‘’it sounded like you were in pain’’.

‘’Oh’’ Lucy said as she looked better at Ona, ‘’no I just broke my squatting record’’.

 Ona chuckled.

‘’Wait did it sound like was in pain?’’ Lucy laughed now too, ‘’I don’t know what to think of that’’.

‘’Well I’m glad you’re alive’’.

‘’and broke my PR’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’how much was it?’’.

‘’139,5 kg’’ (307.5 lbs) Lucy stated as she took out her phone, ‘’let me put it in my notes real quick and then I’m all yours again, I’m sorry for just directing you to the cardio machine, I had this on my agenda for tonight’’.

‘’You have a schedule for when you’re gonna break which record?’’ Ona laughed.

After Lucy had typed it in her phone she looked up, ‘’is that weird?’’.

‘’No’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’I like when people are driven’’.

‘’How much is your squatting PR’’.

Ona laughed, ‘’not even half of what you do, I think 50 kg, and that includes the bar’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’want to do 55?’’.

´´Let´s see if I can do 50 first maybe?’’.

Lucy first had her squat the bar alone and with 5kg increments she guided Ona to a 50kg squat.

At 50kg Ona had trouble getting up, her legs shaking as she did a rep for the 3rd time. She felt Lucy stepping a bit closer, ''you can do it'' Lucy said, ''and if not, I got you''.

Instead of feeling more at ease, Ona became more nervous. She felt Lucy's hands hovering just above her skin.

When she remained in her squatting position, with wobbly legs, Lucy held her sides, ''together then''.

With a little help, Ona stood up again, and immediately she racked the weight and stepped forward, shaking her legs.

‘’Legs tired from the stair machine?’’ Lucy asked.

Ona nodded ‘’think so, maybe next time we can try again’’.

‘’Oh we are’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’and now you’re doing 45, 3 sets of 4 reps’’ she said as she started changing weights.

‘’I don’t know if i-‘’

‘’-I believe in you’’ Lucy cut her off, ‘’and I’m spotting you so if you can’t I’ll help’’.

Ona looked at her with dark eyes, ‘’let’s just do something else’’.

Lucy’s head tilted, ‘’no, why?’’.

‘’I’m tired of squats’’ Ona said, mostly because she was and partly because she didn’t want to fail and have Lucy saving her, as she got way to distracted by the way she felt under their skin contact.

‘’Do your other trainers just accept that?’’ Lucy asked as she finished preparing the bar of weights, she stood infront of Ona now, ‘’in 5 sessions I’ll have you squat 55’’.

 Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I don’t care about how much I can squat’’.

The English woman grinned, ‘’no but you did ask me to help you get sore muscles, If you just listen to me I can guarantee you will not be able to walk the stairs tomorrow, how does that sound?”.

Again Ona rolled her eyes, this time with a little smile ‘’fine’’ she said before quietly adding ‘’molest’’. (annoying person).

They took positions again, but Lucy stood a bit closer then last time. Ona was almost going to make a comment about needing room to breath when Lucy whispered something, ‘’think of your most annoying rival’’.

Ona took the weights on her shoulder, she figured to just ignore Lucy and started squatting, the first 4 went easy.

She racked the bar and stepped forward to shake her legs again.

‘’See, that helped’’, Lucy said ‘’come, another set’’.

‘’Your comment did nothing’’ Ona said, getting slightly annoyed at the woman.

‘’Oh’’ Lucy studied her face, ‘’sorry’’.

Ona took place under the weights again, ‘’okay, let’s get this over with’’.

With two squats her legs started quivering again.

Lucy let her figure it out by herself, she kept close, but didn’t say anything or touch her.

Ona took a deep breath and forced herself up with a deep breath out.

"Good job" Lucy said, but when Ona tried to hang the weight on the rack she was less pleased, "uh-huh, one more rep".

Ona groaned and kept standing there, doubtful about her abilities.

‘’Ona, one more’’ Lucy said sternly.

Ona was allergic to getting ordered around and almost wanted to stop but a fire lit inside her with Lucy’s next comment, ‘’what is it with youth and giving up’’.

She bit back a grumble and did one more squat easily before racking the bar again.

She shook her legs out while still being under the bar and after a few seconds she took it on her shoulders again, squatting with pure annoyance and anger, only at the last squat she had to do she struggled again.

‘’Is your anger already used up?’’ Lucy teased, ‘’I expected more spirit at such a young age’’.

With that she groaned and came up for a last time, angrily racking the weight.

‘’Good, shake it off and we’ll head to leg presses’’.

Ona turned around and looked at her instructor, ‘’more leg exercises’’ she grumbled.

Lucy grinned, ‘’I’ll talk to you on Friday, you’ll thank me’’.

Ona rolled her eyes and followed the English woman to the leg press.

After a long session it was finally time for the massage.

‘’You can take your shoes off, I’ll massage your lower body, back and neck’’ Lucy said.

Ona didn’t respond, ‘’sounds good?’’ Lucy tried.

‘’Oh yeah’’ Ona said tiredly, ‘’perfect’’ she said as she took off her shoes.

‘’Was I too harsh?’’.

Ona looked up at Lucy, ‘’hm, no’’.

‘’Sure?’’.

‘’Yeah I am, I’ll tell you if you go too far, I’m not shy about speaking my mind’’.

‘’Okay, good’’.

Lucy started massaging Ona’s leg and Ona couldn’t help but closer her eyes at how good it felt.

‘’Okay that was that, how do you feel?’’ Lucy said as she was done.

Ona smiled, ‘’great, thank you, I’m sorry if I came across as a bitch at one point’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’at one point? Hmm..’’.

Ona slapped Lucy’s shoulder playfully, ‘’oh come on’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’I’m kidding, you don’t come across as a bitch’’ she looked at Ona with a mischievous grin, ‘’just a bit spoiled’’.

The Catalans mouth dropped open, ‘’I’m not spoiled!’’.

‘’I’m joking’’ Lucy said as she rested her hand on Ona’s forearm, ‘’I’m proud you finished those sets, that proves character’’.

‘’Oh’’ Ona furrowed her eyebrows, ‘’because I had a choice’’.

‘’Ofcourse’’ Lucy tilted her head, ‘’you just said you would speak your mind if you really didn’t want to do it’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’okay, maybe I did want to do it’’.

‘’Good’’ Lucy said with a smile as she withdrew her hand, ‘’well, you go shower, I have to clean up this place’’.

‘’I can help?’’.

‘’No’’ Lucy shook her head, ‘’I like to do it myself and I want to do a couple more exercises’’.

‘’You’re crazy’’.

‘’I’ll see you Friday’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’and then I’ll make you do even more, because you shouldn’t be able to be this much of a smartass if those exercises really were that hard for you’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’yeah see you Friday’’.

In the dressing room Ona jumped straight under the shower, after quickly washing herself and rinsing her hair out, she walked to her bag wrapped in a towel.

As she dug for clean underwear her phone rang, it was Sophia, she had a couple of questions about a client.

‘’Why are you still working Soph?’’ Ona chuckled but as she looked at the time her smile faded, ‘’no way, 22.45 already?’’.

Now it was Sophia’s time to laugh, ‘’yeah got a bit carried away exercising huh?’’.

‘’So it seems’’ Ona said ‘’anyways, for mister Potter you-

-did you ask her number yet?’’ Sophia interrupted her.

‘’Soph! that would not be professional’’ Ona said.

‘’You think she’s hot, what’s wrong with asking a number’’.

‘’Yeah she attractive’’ Ona confessed, ‘’but I don’t even know if she’s a lesbian, maybe she’s just sporty’’.

‘’So ask’’ Sophia simply said.

‘’No I-

A knock on the door interrupted her.

Ona looked up to see Lucy standing in the doorway, ‘’You forgot your shoes’’ she smiled.

Ona’s face got redder than the 2,5 kg weight plates that Lucy’s gym owned, ‘’oh uh thanks’’.

‘’No worries’’, Lucy said as her eyes lingered on Ona’s body for a second before she redirected herself to face Ona and , ‘’see you Friday’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona smiled, ‘’see you Friday’’.

Lucy turned around.

‘’Oh and’’ Ona called out.

Lucy turned back around with a smile.

‘’uh, thanks for my shoes’’ Ona said.

Lucy’s smile faded a little but she nodded, ‘’ofcourse’’.

The dressing room door fell closed behind her.

‘’Aahhhhhhgggg’’ Sophia screamed in her ear, ‘’I felt the sexual tension through the phone’’.

‘’Sophia!’’.

‘’What, you fumbled so hard, you said thanks twice, for a second I thought you were going to ask her number’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona sighed as she thought about the fact that she was originally planning too, before remembering she had Sophia on the phone, ‘’and give you a listen in on my rejection, don't think so’’.

Sophia groaned, ‘’she likes you too, why are you so uncertain’’.

‘’Why are you so sure, anyways we’ll talk about that client when I’m home’’.

...

Wednesday morning – Ona’s penthouse

It was the next day, Ona woke up in her big bed as the curtain automatically opened and stretched.

As she was completely stretched out, she suddenly shrank, ‘’merda’’ she groaned as a cramp hit her left leg, she tried to hold the muscle but it took a while before the cramp went away.

After the pain had disappeared she got out of bed, walking to the bathroom, when she wanted to lower herself to take place on the toilet she cringed, she couldn’t just normally take a seat, so she held the wall and let herself plop down.

When she got back to her room after peeing, she grabbed her phone to Google what she could do best in this situation.

A protein-rich breakfast, a warm bath and some stretching exercises later, she felt a little better and started her workday.

...

Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge

‘’Good morning Property Princess’’ Lucy said as Ona stepped into the gym.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’allright Lucy Lift-a-Lot, what are the plans for today’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’how were your legs Wednesday?’’.

‘’Terrible’’ Ona smiled, ‘’so perfect’’.

‘’Stairs?’’.

‘’Well, I don’t really take those, but the toilet was a pain’’.

Lucy laughed, ‘’good, I suggest more squatting today’’.

Ona scrunched her face, ‘’not to much please, I have this event tomorrow’’.

‘’Work on Saturday?’’.

‘’Well no, it’s like networking event’’.

‘’Oh, is that one of those thing were you have a stand and promote your business’’.

 Ona chuckled, ‘’yeah, but i’m not there with a stand’’.

Lucy tilted her head.

‘’I got invited to look at peoples stands’’ Ona clarified.

‘’Isn’t that like..’’ Lucy didn’t finish her sentence.

‘’What?’’.

‘’Boring?’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Ona laughed, ‘’but its good for my image to show up, and the event payed me to show up’’.

‘’Really’’ Lucy said with disbelieve, ‘’so you’re actually a big name in the real estate world?’’.

‘’I guess’’ Ona shook her head as she laughed, anyways I’ll be bored out of my mind because Soph is taking this weekend off to see her family’’.

‘’Soph?’’.

‘’’Sophia, my PA’’ Ona clarified.

‘’Oh right’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’she was on the phone bribing me’’.

‘’Bribing?’’.

‘’Yeah, you wanted two sessions a week’’.

‘’Oh that’’ Ona nodded slowly, ‘’yeah, I hope she was sensible about it?’’.

‘’Oh yeah yeah, it was not actually bribing, she asked nicely’’.

‘’Good, but anyways, I will be walking around all day, so I need some power left in these legs’’.

Lucy nodded and explained some stretches they were starting with.

..

After the session, where they went a little less extreme as the last time, Lucy gave Ona a massage again. Whilst working her back she broke the silence, ‘’do you not know anyone else in London?’’.

Ona looked at her confused, ‘’what?’’.

‘’For the event, you said you have to go alone, do you not know someone you could take?’’.

Ona shrugged ‘’everyone is on holiday, it’s very last-minute anyways and I wouldn’t drag someone with, I wasn’t kidding when I said it was boring’’ she said into the table.

‘’I think it would be entertaining to see how you talk to everyone professionally’’ Lucy chuckled and acted out a conversation she imagined Ona would have with another realtor. She mockingly acted out the situation, putting on different voices.

Ona’s shoulders shook from her laughter, ‘’I think you will greatly disappointed’’ she laughed.

‘’Yeah?’’ Lucy sad as she put on a pouty face, ‘’is it not like that?’’.

‘’No not at all’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’way more boring’’.

‘’I don’t believe you’’ Lucy challenged.

‘’Well you’re free to join at your own risk’’.

Lucy’s face twisted up in a weird mischievous way, ‘’are you asking me out Batlle?’’.

Ona grinned, ‘’no, I offer you the position to be my plus one to a very boring event so you can entertain me’’.

‘’Well I am free tomorrow’’ Lucy contemplated, ‘’would you like me as your companion?’’.

‘’As long as you don’t publicly mock me’’ Ona rolled her eyes.

Lucy grinned, ‘’I’ll try to keep that for when were alone then’’.

Ona sat up and narrowed her eyes at the taller woman ‘’or like, not do it at all’’.

‘’I’ll see about that’’ Lucy grinned, ‘’what’s the dress code?’’.

‘’uhm, I think you’re best to wear a suit, a light color’’ Ona said as she studied Lucy, ‘’ if you have that’’.

‘’I don’t know’’ Lucy scrunched up her nose, ‘’I’ll have to dig through my closet’’.

‘’Send me a pic, if it’s not good I’ll send some things you could try on’’.

‘’are you going to judge if I look good enough to join your side’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’wow’’.

Ona shrugged, ‘’it’s a cruel world’’.

‘’fine’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’can I get your number?’’.

Ona looked at her with big eyes.

‘’Or do you want me to send Sophia that mirror pic?’’ Lucy grinned.

‘’Oh right, no we’ll exchange numbers, it’s more convenient for tomorrow too’’.

‘’How late is it anyways?’’.

They spoke about the details until Lucy noted that her new appointment would arrive in two minutes. With that Ona went to the changing room and got under the showers, she couldn’t hide the fact that the thought of spending tomorrow with Lucy made her feel giddy.

..

Friday afternoon – Ona’s penthouse

‘’Okay, I’ll see you Monday morning’’ Sophia said as she embraced Ona, ‘’have fun with your hot date’’.

Ona rolled her eyes but didn’t deny her PA’s words, ‘’you have fun at your parents’ house’’ she wished Soph.

‘’Mhm, I will’’ Sophia said as she walked towards the door with her suitcase, ‘’see you Monday!’’.

‘’Bye Soph’’ Ona called out as she got distracted by her phone buzzing.

An unsaved number had sent her texts, she opened her phone curiously.

@ Bronze Fitness Forge: hey, this is Lucy, hereby my outfit, hope you approve 😅

@ Bronze Fitness Forge: *mirror selfie of Lucy in a mint green suit with a white blouse*

@ Bronze Fitness Forge: ignore my bare feet, sorry, I’ll wear shoes tomorrow I promise

Ona changed the contact name to Lucy and texted back.

@ Ona Batlle: Looks good, what shoes do you plan on wearing?.

@ Lucy: sneakers?

@ Ona Batlle: no.

@ Lucy: i don’t have much else

@ Ona Batlle: what size are you?

@ Lucy: a UK size 7

Ona asked her for her address and ordered her a few shoes and a few white blouses, from a store she had great relations with, making them deliver the products before 10 o’clock tonight.

...

Friday night – Ona’s penthouse

@ Lucy: why did I just receive 4 pairs of shoes and 3 white blouses

@ Ona Batlle: fit them, see which you like best

@ Lucy: I have blouses

@ Ona Batlle: your suit is nice, can’t ruin it with a cheap blouse

@ Lucy: how can you recognize that from a picture

@ Ona Batlle: I got taste

@ Lucy: spoiled

@ Ona Batlle: do you want to come still?

@ Lucy: *3 pictures in the different blouses*

Ona admired the way Lucy’s arms looked in the blouses, the woman was well fit, with one particular blouse she swore she could even recognize the outline of abs.

She chuckled when she noticed the shorts Lucy was wearing, Barcelona football shorts.

@ Ona Batlle: nice shorts 😉

@ Lucy: shut up, which blouse.

@ Ona Batlle: deffo the one with the green buttons

@ Lucy: that one feels a bit tight

@ Ona Batlle: it looks good, but if you feel like it will rip, I’ll go for the one with the collar that’s got leaves on the inside.

@ Lucy: what shoe do you like best, they all fit

@ Ona Batlle: blouse got brown buttons so maybe the brown Loafers

@ Lucy: great, they were the comfiest

@ Ona Batlle: pic of the complete fit?

@ Lucy: tomorrow, I don’t want to put everything on again

@ Ona Batlle: lazy

@ Lucy: demanding

@ Ona Batlle: you know me so well

@ Lucy: you send a pic of your outfit then

@ Ona Batlle: no.

@ Lucy: then you’ll just see tomorrow

@ Ona Batlle: fine

Lucy was disappointed Ona didn’t ask her to send a full outfit picture more, she would’ve done it with a bit more insistence, but she guessed Ona wasn’t someone who lowered herself to such things, she was sure Ona would never beg for anything.

...

Saturday afternoon – London, network event.

The event went great, Lucy had been the perfect acquaintance. Making jokes in quiet, boring moments, but shutting up when Ona was talking to people she needed to talk to.

Lucy had on her part also enjoyed the event, there had been going around servers with appetizers and drinks, although they tasted amazing, Lucy tried to stay modest and allowed herself to accept something once in every three time she got offered something.

It was also fun to be around Ona, the woman was classy, she looked beautiful in the emerald colored dress she wore. She wore white heels and had a white bag with her, Lucy didn’t know if she had seen anyone walk as comfortable and elegant in heels as Ona did.

The event had gone by quite quickly, it was already passed eight o'clock.

‘’Oh fuck’’ Ona whispered, pulling Lucy from her thoughts.

They were standing together after Ona had just finished another conversation with an old guy, Lucy had introduced herself too and Ona had told the man they were working on a project together, it was not true but Lucy didn’t mind, and the guy didn’t ask any questions about it anyways.

‘’What?’’ Lucy asked, turning towards Ona.

‘’Don’t look’’ Ona said discretely, ‘’my ex is there, I didn’t know she’d be here’’.

Lucy suppressed her curiosity and kept looking at Ona, ‘’didn’t end well?’’.

‘’No she cheated’’ Ona grimaced, ‘’she’s the worst, she plays unfair both in business and in her private life’’.

‘’That sucks, how long ago-

-oh my god’’ Ona interrupted her, ‘’she’s coming over’’.

As Lucy stood straight again to prepare for an uncomfortable encounter, Ona leaned in and whispered something to her ‘’It was a year ago, if you like you could act like my girlfriend, that would be funny’’.

Lucy grinned and looked at Ona’s face ‘’ofcourse babe’’.

Ona chuckled at the way Lucy took on the role immediately, ‘’if she questions us we answer one after the other’’ she quickly whispered when the women almost had reached them.

‘’Ona!’’ the woman said as she looked at the pair, ‘’nice to see you again’’.

‘’Evelyn’’ Ona said coldly, ‘’how are you’’ she said as the woman forced a greeting with two kisses on her.

‘’I’m good’’ Evelyn said as she directed her gaze to Lucy and eyed the woman, ‘’you to it seems’’.

Lucy extended her hand to the woman who was also wearing a suit, Lucy giggled a little inside at the fact that it was a dark colored suit, since Ona had asked her to wear a light colored suit, ''Lucy, Lucy Bronze'' she introduced herself.

‘’Evelyn Thomas, Thomas real estate’’ the woman said, ‘’what do you do’’.

Lucy smiled, ‘’I am a sports physio, I help injured athletes with their recovery, I am currently also doing research into knee injuries''.

‘’Charity work?’’ Evelyn rudely asked.

Lucy replied with a smile, ‘’well the research doesn’t really bring in money, but that’s a passion of mine, no, I earn my money with my gym, but I get if you’ve never heard of it, it is an quite expensive membership’’.

Evelyn huffed, ‘’sure’’ she turned to Ona.

Lucy stepped closer to Ona rubbed the small of her back before she let her hand rest there.

‘’How long have you two been together?’’.

Ona smiled ‘’about half a year, right Luce?’’. She asked sweetly as she turned to Lucy, who already had her eyes on her.

‘’Best half year of my life’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’It feels like last week that we met’’.

‘’Right babe?’’ Ona sighed out and reached to pet Lucy’s face and kept looking at her, hoping Evelyn would just take the hint and leave.

‘’Allright’’ the woman said, but the pair didn’t look up.

‘’Well, great saying you again Ona’’, she tried.

Ona let her hand glide from Lucy’s face and turned back to Evelyn ‘’oh yeah, I’ll see you around’’.

Lucy smiled, ‘’nice meeting you Evelyn’’ she said in an overly sweet voice.

Lucy took two glasses of champagne from a server that passed them, ‘’here you go darling’’ she joked as she handed Ona one.

‘’Thank you’’ Ona sight as she looked around, ‘’wow, this bitch is still looking at us’’ she whispered in Lucy’s ear.

‘’Behind us?’’ Lucy asked quietly, getting a bit more into Ona’s personal space.

‘’Yeah, don’t look’’.

‘’No I was curious if I could get your consent’’.

‘’For what’’ Ona chuckled.

‘’Touch your butt, I bet she would eat herself up, she is so hung up on you still’’.

Ona grinned and leaned in to kiss Lucy’s neck softly, ‘’do it’’.

The Catalan peeked from Lucy’s neck at the woman a few meters behind them, she saw the woman had her gaze already fixed on Lucy’s hand, the hand that had rested on her lower back until now, smoothly Lucy let her hand travel south and squeezed Ona’s bum. Ona looked back at Lucy’s neck, she didn’t feel the need to watch Evelyn’s face a second longer then necessary.

Ona chuckled as she felt a shiver run down her spine from the way Lucy’s strong hand dug into her clothed flesh.

Lucy rubbed the place she had just squeezed gently and let her hand rest on the small of Ona’s back again, just a bit lower then she had been before.

‘’Thank you’’ Ona quietly said.

Lucy looked at her with a wicked grin, ‘’it was a pleasure’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’not that, for playing along’’.

‘’I was talking about that’’, Lucy said with raised eyebrows, trying to come across honest, ‘’okay squeezing your butt was fun too I guess’’ she sighed.

Ona’s mouth hang open to act as if she felt offended, ‘’liar’’.

‘’No I feel a bit like a cheap whore’’.

Ona chuckled, ‘’a cheap whore?’’.

‘’You buy me clothes in exchange for physical services’’.

‘’You make it sound like I’ll make you sleep with me’’.

‘’are you not?’’ Lucy said acting disappointed.

‘’Lucy!’’ Ona said in disbelieve, ‘’are you proposing to come home with me’’.

‘’I mean, the house of the best realtor is probably very impressive, maybe you can give me a tour’’.

‘’I thought you joined me to distract me from work, not give me more’’.

Lucy shrugged, ‘’okay, worth a try’’.

Ona grumbled on the inside, she wanted Lucy to come with her, but she wasn’t about to beg, ‘’fine’’ she stated, ‘’let’s go then, this event is dead anyways’’.

..

They were stood in the elevator of Ona’s building, ‘’how are you so bold all of a sudden?’’ Ona asked.

Lucy smirked, ‘’bold, how?’’.

‘’You straight up asked me to sleep with you’’ Ona said as she studied Lucy.

Lucy held her hands up, ‘’I’m confident in my abilities to break personal records with you in several areas, the bedroom being one of them’’.

Ona’s jaw dropped, ‘’does that work on all the girls you hit on’’.

‘’No just the one that are attracted to me’’ she answered with a smug smile.

‘’I’m not- i- how do you-

Lucy grinned, ‘’the dressing rooms are not call-proof, or at least, if it’s a private call, you should probably choose another place from now on’’.

Ona blushed and groaned, ‘’you heard that?’’ she said with a scrunched up nose and palmed her face.

The elevator stopped and with an elegant tone it indicated the arrival to the top floor.

Lucy smiled as the smaller woman walked away with cutely blushed cheeks and opened the door, Lucy followed Ona who stepped in to her appartement.

When she took of her shoes Lucy did the same.

‘’wow’’ Lucy gasped as she walked over to the windows, ‘’this is amazing’’.

‘’Thanks’’ Ona said, ‘’do you want something to drink?’’.

Lucy turned around with a smile, ‘’maybe after the tour? I had some drinks there already’’.

‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she got herself a sparkling water ‘’Okay this is the kitchen, that is the living-

‘’nooo’’ Lucy pouted and walked back to Ona, ‘’the fun way, make me want to buy this place’’ she said as she discarded her jacket on one of the bar stools.

‘’You already would’’.

Lucy rolled her eyes ‘’Like how you-

‘’don’t roll your eyes at me’’ Ona blurted out before she knew it was happening.

Lucy’s mouth fell open, ‘’says you! You roll your eyes every once 10 minutes’’.

Ona walked around the counter and stepped into Lucy’s personal space, ‘’shut up, I can do what I want’’ she said with a grin.

Lucy looked her, quiet from the sudden closeness, ‘’you shut up’’ she said, coming out clumsier than she wanted.

Ona chuckled, ‘’make me shut up then’’ she said as she traced her hand along the row of buttons from Lucy’s blouse.

‘’If you don’t stop me I’ll kiss you’’ Lucy said as she leaned in.

Ona smiled against her lips, ‘’if you don’t kiss me I’ll book you a cab home’’.

Their lips crashed in a hungry, exciting kiss, Lucy was the first to introduce tongue in their facade and Ona cupped the back of her neck as she gladly accepted it in.

Lucy’s hands travelled to the hips she had been eyeing all afternoon, the smaller woman looking delicious at the way the dress hugged her figure just right.

The English pressed herself closer against the Catalan.

Ona broke the kiss.

They both panted as Lucy tilted her head in confusion, ‘’not okay?’’.

‘’How about a quick tour of the bedroom?’’ Ona answered instead.

Lucy gulped, ‘’please’’.

Ona grinned as she took Lucy’s hand and guided her to her bedroom, ‘’wow’’ she gasped for a second time this evening.

‘’Is this enough light for you?’’ Ona asked, ‘’if you want more light we have to close the curtains’’.

Lucy quickly turned to face the woman, ‘’yes, lights on and curtains closed please, I’m not about to be on display for everyone in London to see’’.

‘’that’s why you keep the light off’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’and it can be fun you know, exciting’’.

Lucy shook her head, ‘’nah, as much as I like the view, I bet the view in here will be way better’’.

‘’Oh quite the charmer’’ Ona said as she pushed the button and the curtains started closing, ‘’ let's see if you can live up to all that big talk’’.

Lucy walked over to her and went in for another kiss, much shorter this time, ‘’just give me the green light and I’ll make you experience things you have never before’’.

‘’sure Bronze’’, Ona said as she started to undo to buttons from her blouse, ‘’you have permission do what you want, just stop if I say so’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’always princess, your wish is my command’’ with that she attached their lips again.

While they were kissing Lucy shook her blouse off, figuring Ona wanted that as she had been tugging on the ting for minutes now. She walked with Ona towards the bed, making her walk backwards. When they were almost there Ona broke the kiss ‘’take my dress off’’ she said breathlessly.

Lucy grinned, ‘’not yet, you look so pretty in it’’ she said before planting her tongue back in Ona’s mouth, a few small sounds escaped the smaller woman as Lucy deepened the kiss and reached to pull up Ona’s dress.

She pushed Ona on the edge of the bed and started kissing her neck, ‘’do you want this’’ she asked between kisses ‘’want me to make you feel so good’’ she asked before licking and sucking the sensitive spots on Ona’s neck.

Ona whimpered, ‘’yes’’.

‘’Allright pretty girl’’ Lucy said she dropped to her knees, she looked up to meet Ona’s eyes as she started to kiss the insides of her thighs, ‘’I bet you taste so good’’ Lucy said as her hands travelled along the skin of Ona’s legs, giving her goose bumps.

‘’Can I taste you?’’ Lucy said as she latched her mouth to Ona’s other leg, she saw the Catalan fighting to keep composure, ‘’y-yes’’ she said with a breathy voice.

‘’Are you so worked up already?’’ Lucy playfully asked as she redirected her gaze to Ona’s thong, a dark-green piece of lace, with an even darker green spot right between the Spaniards legs.

Lucy kissed closer and closer towards the woman’s heat, until she could smell her wetness. Lucy groaned and sat back, ‘’up’’ she ordered as she hooked her fingers in the underwear.

Ona quickly cooperated.

Lucy dropped the thongs on the floor and went back to kissing Ona’s bare legs.

‘’Fuck Lucy, get your mouth on me’’ Ona said jaded.

With a smug face Lucy looked at her, ‘’you still think you’re calling the shots here?’’ she said as she let two fingers glide along Ona’s slick.

‘’Please’’ Ona whimpered.

This was all Lucy needed to hear, the rest of the begging could be done later, now she needed to get a taste.

She spread Ona’s leg wide with her hands as she dove in, letting her tongue glide softly along Ona’s core to make her get used to it.

She reached out for Ona’s hand and placed it in her hair as she kept up the gentle exploration.

When she had found a spot that she felt made Ona quiver, she grinned and kept Ona’s legs apart more strongly before diving in completely.

Ona’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, she head never experienced head like this before.

The skilled tongue rippling against her clit, the strong hands, making her spread out for the English woman on the edge of her bed.

With the hand that was guided to Lucy’s hair she gripped the woman’s dark brown hair, pushing her deeper against her, Ona felt the orgasm building up already. If it didn’t feel this good she would surely have been embarrassed about it.

‘’merda, se sent molt bé’’ (feels so fucking good) Ona moaned before she bit her lips as she struggled to keep herself up, leaning with one hand on the mattress.

Lucy didn’t know what the woman above her was muttering about, but she figured the words were positive. With two fingers of her right hand she teased Ona’s entrance, at this her legs shocked. Lucy looked up.

Ona groaned at the loss of stimulation and looked down at Lucy, ‘’fuck, you can use your fingers’’.

Lucy smirked as she put the fingers inside Ona’s mouth, as Ona sucked at them, covering them in her saliva. Lucy returned to what she was doing, she let her tongue dance along Ona’s clit.

When Ona opened her mouth and moaned, Lucy pulled her hand away and with very little preparation she plunged them inside of the dripping hole between Ona’s legs, deserving a loud guttural moan.

Lucy curled her fingers and searched for Ona’s weak spot, when she’d found it she started thrusting her fingers in a steady but provokingly slow pace.

The difference in paces from Lucy’s tongue and her fingers drove Ona mad, she couldn’t keep her eyes open as her eyes kept rolling back and the arm where she was leaning on was shaking.

After a few second she dropped on her, the leg that Lucy wasn’t keeping open with a hand almost crashed into Lucy but she didn’t budge.

Lucy sat up a bit more and kept working her tongue and hand as she felt Ona’s walls convulsing around her fingers.

She groaned as she felt a new gush of wetness covering her fingers, and dripping on her hand.

With a loud moan and a tight fist in Lucy’s hair, the woman below her orgasmed.

Lucy smiled as she slowly came to a stop and sat back when the hand left her head.

Ona's legs came back together and she stretched with her arms above her, "that was…" she breathed out.

Lucy grinned, ‘’quick?’’ she offered.

Ona sat up and rolled her eyes, ‘’I was going to say good’’.

‘’Both can be true’’ Lucy with a smug face.

..

After a few hours well spent, Lucy and Ona were standing under her rain shower.

‘’Do you want to sleep here?’’ Ona asked as she was lathering herself up with soap.

Lucy grinned ‘’are you asking out of politeness?’’.

‘’Maybe’’ Ona grinned back, ‘’don’t want you to feel like a cheap whore’’.

Lucy laughed, ‘’no I’ll book my own cab home, thanks’’.

‘’I had fun’’ Ona said sincerely, ‘’thanks for coming along’’.

‘’Me too’’ Lucy returned, ‘’and I’m happy for it to be a one time thing’’.

‘’Mhm’’ Ona said, ‘’perfect’’. She was amazed with Lucy’s maturity about the matter, some woman could get very offended.

‘’What do you want me to do with the shoes and shirts?’’ Lucy asked as they were drying off.

Ona smiled, ‘’keep ‘em, give ‘em away, I don’t care, it costs me more to make effort returning them, then what I would get for it’’.

Lucy shook her head in disbelieve but thought it was very kind she had bought her the things, ‘’thank you’’.

Ona nodded, ‘’it was my pleasure’’.

As Lucy walked back to the bedroom to put her suit back on, Ona just put her robe on, she was home alone anyways, she couldn’t help but look at Lucy’s back and ass, looking perfectly toned.

She bended to pick her clothes up and turned around to lay it on the bed, she looked at the clothes before looking at Ona.

Lucy caught the Catalan staring at her abs and grinned, ‘’could I borrow a pair of briefs?’’ she asked, ‘’I can’t put this back on’’, she said as she held her underwear up.

Ona gaze traveled form Lucy’s muscles to the piece of cloth and she smiled, ‘’ofcourse’’ she said before going into her walk-in wardrobe.

She came back and handed Lucy the underwear, ‘’and you can keep this too’’ she winked.

After that, Ona left Lucy to get dressed and went to the kitchen, she downed the glass of sparkling water that was still on the counter and went to her table, opening the laptop that laid there.

In a few minutes she was completely indulged with the things on her screen and hadn’t noticed Lucy been done with getting dressed, now standing infront of her.

‘’Bye Ona’’ Lucy said as she walked closer to the woman.

Ona jumped at the voice breaking the silence, but quickly got her composure back and smiled, ‘’sorry, I was reading something’’ she stood up, ‘’I’ll see you Tuesday Lucy, thanks again’’.

‘’I had fun’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’I’ll see myself out, see you Tuesday’’.

..

Tuesday night –  Bronze Fitness Forge, London

Ona and Lucy had another session. They both thought back at their one nightstand as a perfect encounter, the sex had been good and they were both on the same terms as far as relationships are concerned.

Lucy didn't think Ona was the type of girl she’d ever date, but she could say that she was absolutely perfect in terms of appearance. The fact that she was shorter, the freckles, her slightly defined muscles and most of all her perfect butt. Ona’s ass might be her favorite thing about the woman.

Ona was happy Lucy had been on the same page as her about at sleeping over, she didn’t like waking up next to people, they often looked and smelt bad and Ona didn’t like anyone in the world enough to deal with that. Ona was happy to go to the woman’s gym again this day, she felt like her sexual frustration had been cleared up and was ready to maybe even break that squatting PR.

Lucy was a little bit nervous about seeing the woman again, hoping it wouldn’t be awkward, she had gotten in a bit earlier than last time, to make sure they could at least get dressed separately. Even though she would be lying if she’d say she wasn’t at least a little bit curious if the hickey’s she had left were still there.

She shook her head, she shouldn’t be thinking about this. Ona had been perfectly clear, heck she had wanted it herself, this was a one time thing and in a month they’d maybe never see eachother again.

Ona came walking in to the gym, disrupting Lucy’s string of thoughts.

‘’Hey Ona’’ she cheerfully said, but she couldn’t help but notice the fact Ona was wearing a shirt and shorts now, rather then the sports bra she had worked out in until now.

‘’Lucy’’ Ona smiled, ‘’ready to break some records?’’.

‘’I sure am’’ Lucy said, ‘’do we go squatting straight after warm up?’’.

‘’Yes’’ Ona replied, ‘’I hope I can do more then 50 today’’.

‘’Enthusiastic, i love it’’

‘’Oh you know me’’ Ona joked.

‘’Always enthusiastic to break records’’ Lucy said, after which she cringed at herself.

They warmed up and went to the weight rack, ‘’hey have you already set it up?’’ Ona asked, smiling.

‘’Ofcourse’’ Lucy said smugly, ‘’six sessions left until you’re doing 55’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’if you weren’t hot I would’ve hired another personal trainer six sessions ago’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’well first off all thanks, second off all, what do you think a good personal trainer does then’’.

The Spaniard shrugged, ‘’not being annoying’’.

‘’I am not annoying’’ Lucy said as she quirked her eyebrows.

‘’How would you describe a person using insults as motivation’’ Ona challenged her.

‘’motivational’’

‘’annoying’’

‘’did you do those reps or not’’

‘’yes’’

‘’so, motivational’’ Lucy stated as if it was settled.

Ona shook her head and walked over to take place under the bar, ‘’please keep from your motivations until really really can’t go anymore’’ she stood up and took the bar on her shoulders, ‘’until then, you spot me quietly’’.

‘’yes ma’am’’ Lucy joked as she took position behind Ona, ‘’I kidding, I’ll shut up’’.

Surprisingly, Ona squatted the 50kg the first 8 reps perfectly, without any problem.

‘’I’m impressed’’ Lucy said as Ona was shaking her legs to get ready for the last set, ‘’you finally found your right mindset’’.

Ona smiled but kept quiet, she couldn’t get distracted now.

She took place under the bar again and accidentally walked into Lucy with her butt.

‘’Oh sorry’’ Lucy chuckled as she took a step back, ‘’okay last 4, let’s go’’.

Ona blushed at the way heat traveled to her core from the brief touch.

She took the weight on her shoulders for the third time and for some reason they felt twice as heavy.

Ona didn’t squat but kept standing there with the weights in her neck.

‘’Come on Ona, you can do it’’ she felt Lucy’s hot breath in her neck.

‘’I don’t know if I-

‘’You can do it Ona’’ Lucy pressed up against Ona, and put her hand under her arms, ‘’we’ll do it together’’.

Ona gulped as she felt Lucy front pushed against her.

She squatted and easily came back up with Lucy’s strength supporting her, she wanted to rack the weights as she stood straight again.

‘’3 more Ona’’ Lucy said in her ear.

Ona groaned as she did another.

‘’Good job Ona’’ Lucy said, in a voice close to a whisper. Ona couldn’t help but think the woman was doing this on purpose, she was so close, Ona could feel her abs in her back, and her thighs against her own, no other trainer had ever spotted her like this.

After the four squats Ona racked the bar and turned around, Lucy stepped back.

She studied the woman’s face, Lucy casted her eyes to the ground.

Ona ducked under the bar and stepped into Lucy’s personal space, she noticed a slight blush on the English woman her cheeks, but then again that could be from warming up.

Ona shook her head, thinking it was her mind playing tricks with her, ‘’so what next’’ she asked.

Lucy looked up at her with surprise but quickly put on a neutral face again, ‘’have you ever bench pressed?’’.

‘’Ofcourse’’ Ona chuckled.

Lucy insisted on showing Ona the best technique and did a few quick sets with the weights she had grabbed for Ona.

However, when Ona did the sets with those weights it went a lot less smoothly.

After the set Ona set up and set the weights down on the ground.

Lucy took place on the bench next to her, ‘’have you ever heard about the mind-muscle connection?’’.

‘’no’’ Ona said as she shook her head.

‘’Okay, so during an exercise touching the muscle is a great way to help increase the mind-muscle connection. When you physically touch the muscle, it provides tactile feedback that can be used to better understand which muscles are being targeted and how they should feel during an exercise’’. Lucy explained.

‘’Look’’ she said as she did a bicep curl, ‘’I am working my bicep right now, so then I’ll tap or touch the muscle and that will eventually help with increasing strength in that muscle’’.

Ona sighed, ‘’okay, so you are going to be poking my biceps as I bench press’’.

‘’With a bench press we target arms, shoulders and chest’’ Lucy said, ‘’one of the most useful exercise to work on your mind-muscle connection with, as you automatically start to use the muscles that are touched more then when you just do it, it helps with knowing from where you need to provide strength into the push’’.

‘’Okay lets do it professora’’ Ona chuckled.

While she was benching the weights Lucy poked the concerning muscles, but Ona couldn´t really take it serious, she was getting distracted with the way Lucy´s hands were resting on her chest now, just above her boobs.

´´don´t be so distracted Ona, focus´´ Lucy said, as she noticed Ona slowing her pace.

´´Allright´´ she said, and Lucy retracted her hands at her sudden harsh voice, the effect she hoped it would have, she dropped the weights besides her, ´´you sit here´´ she said as she stood up.

Lucy looked at her confused, ´´what?’’.

‘’Go sit here and do bench presses’’.

Lucy was confused but went to do what Ona ordered, as she had took the weights in her hands she started, ‘’just like this’’ she carefully said.

‘’Yes’’ Ona said as she took place on Lucy’s lap, ‘’go on, keep going’’ she said as she let her hands travel along Lucy’s arms, shoulders, chest and ended at her abs, as Lucy stopped and looked confused at her she repeated what the English woman had told her earlier, ´´don´t be so distracted Lucy, focus´´.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’I wasn’t sitting on your lap’’.

‘’I wasn’t grinding into your ass’’ Ona bit back.

Lucy set the weights besides her, ´´I’m sorry.. I couldn´t..

´´couldn´t what Lucy?’’ Ona sat as she leaned closer towards Lucy’s face, ‘’couldn’t help but wanting to feel my ass?’’.

The English woman swallowed hard, she knew it wasn’t professional of her.

Ona bit her lip as she looked at the woman squirming below her.

She leant to whisper something in Lucy’s ear, ‘’I am going to take a shower’’ she said before softly laying a single kiss in Lucy neck and getting up.

Without turning around she walked towards the changing room, hoping Lucy would follow her.

Lucy scrambled to sit up and wondered what the fuck just happened, she was very confused, a part of screamed that she should follow the woman, another part said to stay in the gym, as she had done more then enough.

-I am going to take a shower-, the words repeated over and over in her head, if Ona really wouldn’t have wanted her to follow her she would’ve surely said something else right, and not give her a kiss.

Without more contemplation Lucy jumped up, she hurried to the changing room and got in, the shower was already running, Lucy spotted Ona’s clothing on the bench.

‘’Uhm’’ Lucy cleared her throat, ‘’sorry’’.

‘’I can’t here you’’ Ona called from under the water, ‘’what did you say?’’.

Lucy  stepped closer to the shower, the shower was just an extension of the dressing room, separated by a tiled wall and a corner, in there were 4 showerheads, which turned out to be the stupidest setup ever, as only one person showered here at a time, but they hadn’t thought about it like that when she helped designing the place.

‘’Sorry’’ she tried again.

Ona chuckled, ‘’Luce come here’’.

Lucy stepped along the wall and was met with a very wet, very naked Ona.

Ona grinned and walked towards Lucy, ‘’it’s okay’’ she said before pressing the taller woman against the wall, ‘’but now you've triggered something in me’’.

‘’w-what’’.

‘’Strip’’ Ona said coldly.

Lucy did as told and stepped out of her shoes before she threw her clothes in to the dressing room, in the same undressed state as the Spaniard she walked back to her.

‘’Good’’ Ona said as she pulled Lucy by her wrist to join her under the weak beam of warm water.

Lucy closed her arms around Ona and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

Ona groaned and broke the kiss, ‘’I don’t know what it is but I feel a weirdly big amount of attraction towards you’’.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, ‘’thanks I guess, I think you’re very hot too’’.

‘’No’’ Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I mean, I have never not been able to suppress the urge to fuck someone’’.

Lucy smirked, ‘’it’s hard when it’s that good’’.

Ona rolled her eyes again, ‘’shut up, your dumb words turn me off’’ she said before kissing Lucy again.

The English woman grinned against Ona’s lips as her hand roamed Ona’s body until they settled between her legs, ‘’Do you get wet when you’re turned off?’’ she asked with an annoying smirk on her face, ‘’or where you lying’’.

‘’I am not lying’’ Ona said as turned them around, ‘’you’re the hottest when your mouth is closed’’.

Lucy chuckled as Ona dropped to her knees and kissed along her upper thighs. ‘’Or when you are cumming’’ Ona added before tugging one of Lucy’s legs on to her shoulder.

She made sure Lucy’s other leg was planted firmly on the ground before she buried her head in between the woman’s legs. Lucy closed her eyes as the shorter woman hungrily started eating her out. Ona reached around Lucy to grab her ass and guided her to grind down on her face. The muscular woman let out a groan and gripped Ona’s hair. The groans of Lucy and humming of Ona echoed in the tiled room.

 With a hand coming down on the Catalans shoulder, pressing into her, she almost lost balance for a second, but she recovered and gripped tighter into the flesh of Lucy’s ass while she kept fucking with her tongue in and out of her entrance.

The leg that was hanging over her shoulder started jolting as Ona heard the breath of the woman above her get more and more unsteady. Lucy felt she was about to come undone and braced herself on Ona and the shower wall, grabbing the rod where the shower was connected to.

She bit her lips as she looked down at the beautiful woman bobbing her head between her own legs, she grabbed the hair she was holding and pulled at the roots as she pushed the head deeper into her core. Ona moaned at the act, a shiver traveled along Lucy’s spine at the vibration.

‘’Fuck’’ she breathed, ‘’I’m cumming’’.

At that last word her voice went up her voice went up an octave and her eyes rolled back while an electric pulse travelled through her body. Ona kept lapping at Lucy, dirty sounds filling the room, only when Lucy’s hips started jerking from sensitivity, she stopped. Only now she realized how hard she had been holding onto Lucy and she caressed the skin gently before pulling her hands back. She sat back and stood up to look at Lucy.

The English woman wore a dopey grin, with hooded eyes she smiled at Ona, ‘’that was amazing’’ she said as if she was under the influence of drugs.

‘’Good’’ Ona said, ‘’because I need this to be our last time’’.

At those words Lucy seemed to get sobered up immediately, ‘’I’m not done’’ she said.

Ona rolled her eyes but couldn’t ignore the way she felt her core pulsing at Lucy’s hungry gaze. Lucy stepped closer and kissed her. Lucy grinned as she felt the Catalan pushing herself against her, almost searching for some kind of relieve with the way her core searches for one of Lucy’s thighs.

‘’Not here’’ Lucy said as she broke the kiss, ‘’come home with me’’.

PART 2

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your bag and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again. He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred—with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick. 

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Heavy

Summary: Reader's having a depressive episode and needs some comfort from her mate

Content Warnings: Depression

Author's Note: I should be finishing my Vamp!Rhys fic but I got sad and wrote this instead

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Velaris is beautiful at night, from the glittering stars overhead, to the soft gurgle of the Sidra rushing over time worn stones beneath the city’s many intricate bridges. The music makes the whole city feel full of light and laughter, couples often dancing and humming in the streets. It’s one of your favorite places to be.

Usually.

Tonight it’s just… there. Though you stand in the heart of it, everything moves around you, never quite touching you. It’s as if you’re suddenly a stranger in the place you love the most, the emotional distance between you palpable.

You jam your hands in your pockets and keep walking, though you’re not really sure where you’re going, your body moving on autopilot. It’s been like that for a couple weeks now, if you’re honest, you’ll be half way through the day sometimes before you realize you’re not sure how or when you even got out of bed, or gotten dressed. Did you even eat? Kiss your mate good morning? Rhys has been working long hours in Illyria lately, most nights you’re already asleep before he’s even tumbling into bed, but, now that you’re thinking about it, that could also be because you’ve been going to sleep earlier too.

You frown at your boots as you walk, trying to remember when this happened. It’s not new, you’ve had bouts of this since you were a teenager, but they’ve been better thanks to regular sessions with Madja and some other healers. Art therapy in the Rainbow has helped too. Usually you can tell when you’re starting to slip into the darker places in your head, but it crept up on you this time.

By the time your mindless wanderings bring you back to the Townhouse, the light from your upstairs bedroom is already on, meaning Rhys somehow finished his business and beat you home. You’d only planned to grab some takeout so you wouldn’t have to cook, and yet, here you stand, hands as empty as your stomach.

The door opens before you can even reach for your key, soft light spilling out into the entryway. “There you are!” Rhys says by way of greeting, as if he’d been waiting by the door for you. Your mate leans in to place a quick peck on your lips as he guides you inside.

“Did you go to Rita’s with Mor?”

He should be able to tell you hadn’t, since you’re wearing the same sweatpants you had been for a week, but then again, he also hasn’t been home enough to know you haven’t changed out of them. 

“No I…” you hate talking about this stuff, hate feeling like you’re burdening anybody with the weight you feel pressing down on your chest. “Uh, went to get dinner.”

Rhys stares down at your empty hands, eyebrows raised teasingly. “Did you forget to bring it back?”

You run a hand over your eyes. Cauldron they’re so heavy! Why is everything always so heavy? Your whole body feels like it’s made of bricks, just the effort to kick off your boots feels like it takes every single drop of energy you have left. “Sorry.” Even speaking feels like too much.

Rhys frowns, “Darling, are you ok?”

“Just tired,” you say, avoiding his eyes now. 

He steps forward, placing a knuckle under your chin and tilting your face towards him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired,” you repeat, but your eyes are watering now. 

He stills, violet eyes roaming over you, assessing for the first time tonight how you look, the dark circles under your eyes. He knows you haven’t had trouble sleeping, he’s barely been able to wake you when he comes home at night. “It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears falling in earnest now.

Rhys’s features soften as he lifts you into his arms, the bond flooding with warmth and understanding as he says, “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you upstairs. “I thought I was doing better… but everything just feels heavy again.”

He kisses your forehead gently as he climbs into bed and settles you down against his chest. Twisting, his wings unfurl so he can curl one around you, cocooning you in the warmth of his body. “What can I do to help?”

You wrap an arm around his waist as you settle your face against his chest, his heartbeat steady and even beneath you. Madja had said once that this was helpful if you got overly anxious, the steadiness of his breathing helping yours level out, and it helps now too, gives you something to focus on. It’s grounding and you let your breathing sync up, your chest rising and falling against his own. Madja hadn’t been able to stress enough how important it was to find something to ground you in the present when you got like this, lest your thoughts start to spiral deeper and deeper into the dark.

“Just need you to hold me for a little while,” you say.

Rhys pulls your favorite blanket up over the two of you before wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you,” and the bond floods with more warmth than you think you deserve, but it doesn’t let up when those thoughts sneak in. “I’ll do anything you need me to.”

You place a gentle kiss to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he replies, fingers tracing shapes in your back. “No one has all good days.”

“But nothing even happened,” you protest. “I just woke up one morning and it was just so heavy to be awake.”

He kisses your temple. “We can see Madja in the morning, if you need, but you can’t beat yourself up. You have no control over it.”

You press your temple into his chest and breath in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. “I hate it.”

He places another kiss to the top of your head. You know he hates it too, hates that it’s a battle he can’t fight for you, no matter how much he wants to. “It will pass.”

Rhys is warm, his presence soothing, the darkness that seeps from his skin on the days he hasn’t had the time to expel enough of it, drifting over your body in soothing motions. This is safe and quite and peaceful. Your body starts to settle more and more as time goes on.

“Do you really believe that?” You whisper. “That it’ll pass?”

“Yes,” he says. “It has before, and it will again.” Knowing he’s had the experience himself, you’re inclined to believe he’s right.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” you admit. 

Rhys holds you a little tighter, “Till all the stars fall from the sky, my love.” He holds you all night, whispering all the things he loves about you as you start to fall asleep.

You let yourself fall into it, hoping tomorrow will be better.

[shu-glue]

devilspawn!

alhaitham x gn!reader

wherein Alhaitham, despite being deeply and irrevocably in love with you, thinks it's rather immature to be picking fights with a child whose age hasn't even reached double digits yet. until he meets said child himself. notes: gn!reader, written in lowercase, reader is implied to be the traveler but can be read otherwise, alhaitham is whipped for reader, reader hates timmie so if you adore the kid i'm very sorry, two curse words (reader says ass and alhaitham mentally says little shit)

alhaitham loves you a lot. he really does. he rarely ever says the three magic words, and for the most part, it's fine on your end because he expresses his deep affection for you through his actions.

sometimes, he'll say 'i love you' through quiet but powerful hugs after he comes home from a long, grueling day in the Akademiya. other times, he'll whisper 'i love you' as he hands you a small trinket or even a book you've mentioned in passing, one he bought just earlier when he saw said item in a stall while on an assignment. he'll call you 'beloved' through massaging your shoulders after training, and he'll tell you how much he adores you through the many times you spent basking in each other's presence in comfortable silence.

he'll walk with you to the ends of the Teyvat if it means staying by your side, however…

"love," alhaitham shakes his head, "you're a… fully grown adult. the one you want to 'crush under the heavy hand that is loss', is a child. my love, a child."

now, alhaitham is no stranger to the game that is TCG, Genius Invocation, the Card Game. the only times he, kaveh, tighnari, and cyno will meet up are when they're all free, fancying a drink, and cyno wants to try out another new card he has recently obtained.

in all honesty, your partner couldn't for the life of him understand the hype about this card game. he was by no means an amateur - he has won enough games to be considered an official TCG player, despite only borrowing decks from kaveh, and he is the only one able to actually last more than 5 rounds against cyno in a single session at lambad's.

he knows how to play, he just does not see the need to play so obsessively, nor blow off money for special cards he'll only use in a few given instances of his life (if he even utters this line of thought out loud around cyno, he'll have a spear stuck on his back for the rest of the day).

however, you - his lover, his partner, the only person reserved for the ring in his pocket - love TCG, and as the loving boyfriend he is, he tries to keep his opinion of the game to himself; he'd rather have a giant spear in his back than see you sad and pouting as you shuffle through your beloved deck of cards. he should know, he's made the mistake once and it took him a couple of padisarah pudding servings to cheer you up.

alhaitham loves you, and if you like this card game, he will certainly make sure you're happy every duel or match you do. he just can't wrap his head around why you're setting off to the bridge that leads to the entrance of mondstadt city, deadset on making a something years old child cry from defeat.

"alhaitham, baby, you don't understand," you argued, "that child is my mortal enemy, my lifetime arch-nemesis, and a pain in my ass."

"yes, darling, but consider: you have many more potential TCG friends who would make better rivals than some random kid." alhaitham rubs his forehead, completely exasperated if it weren't for the adorable way you're marching ahead in front of him like a goofy soldier going into war.

you only spin around just at the mouth of the bridge, your hands on your hips as you stare up at alhaitham with a pout on your face and a raised eyebrow. "you think i'm being irrational, aren't you?"

alhaitham raises an eyebrow back as he continues walking. "not necessarily, my love, however - "

there's something about being hit in the face with multiple fluttering wings and feathers unexpectedly, that can render even the most stoic of men like alhaitham utterly lost and speechless. is it the pure shock? the pain of not really fluffy appendages hitting their face? well, it's when the haze of birds - pigeons? - finally clear, alhaitham is greeted by the displeased and outright sour expression of the one he can only assume to be timmie, your 'sworn enemy'.

"what are you doing?!" said boy screeched. "you scared my pigeons away!"

alhaitham could only blink owlishly at the dirty blond haired boy, looking around to see a bunch of pigeons flying away, leaving a trail of feathers in their wake. granted, despite all the horror stories you told him about timmie, alhaitham's rational enough to be patient with timmie.

"i'm sorry, but I don't think I have control over that, kid." alhaitham tilts his head down to look at timmie. "if you feed your pigeons in the middle of the road, especially a bridge with exactly two exit and entry points, your pigeons will surely—"

"no, my mama always said that if you're a person with a pure heart, the animals won't be afraid of you." timmie turned his nose up and stuck his tongue out at alhaitham. "that's why my pigeons like me, and not you, you meanie!"

alhaitham had to reel himself back to take in the ridiculous logic, the gears in his head turning to come up with an explanation. "no," he shakes his head as if it's hurting, "birds and all animals for that matter don't know the concept of morality, thus they have no sense of right and wrong as humans do. the only reason the pigeons run away from others and stay with you is because you're feeding them, creating a dependent relationshi—"

"blah blah, why should i listen to an old man with graying hair?"

said (old) man with gray(ing) hair visibly reels back, flabbergasted. he's not so much offended as he is shocked at timmie's attitude. he wanted to say 'no, he's not old', 'his gray hair is a natural phenomenon because of genetics', and, 'listen here you little shit'.

"see?" you commented from the sideline, arms crossed. "devilspawn."

"ARGH!" timmie shouts, pointing an accusing finger at you. "you again?! stop scaring my pigeons away!"

"i keep telling you, there's nothing i can do about that!" you shout back, bickering with the small child as if you were about to lunge at him.

alhaitham looks back and forth between the two of you, mentally wondering if he was dating and courting someone of the immature type (doesn't mind it solely, because it's you). when he moves to calm you down so the both of you can finally head into mondstadt city to look for marjorie, timmie says:

"maybe my pigeons don't like you because you look like an ugly cow!"

oh boy. no good. no, no good, alhaitham won't tolerate that.

alhaitham loves you a lot. he really does. he rarely ever says the three magic words, and for the most part, it's fine on your end because he expresses his deep affection for you through his actions.

and if it means making a little boy cry at a simple card game to protect your dignity, then so be it.

"beloved. if you would so kindly let me borrow your cards."

"wha—?"

"beloved."

this is just a silly drabble i thought of a lot of days ago and no, it's not proofread AHAHA. i have been so inactive lately and i apologize for that, school has been hectic and i was busy with college applications to boot. but now, i'm about to graduate so i should have some free time before i finally taste the college life ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ if y'all saw this post but with no tags you did not

[cheynovak]

The Road to Clarity - part 1  

 

Summary: Y/N is a photographer, loving her job in New York. During a shoot she worked with her now boyfriend, Tom. They soon started dating. Now three years later her life takes a turn and when she flies out to Texas, she meets Jensen, a rancher with a teenage daughter Samantha. 

Warnings: slow burn, romantic, nothing to explicit -> yet

English is not my first language  

Words:  3730 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

Y/N had always loved the way her camera captured life. In a city like New York, where everything moved at a breakneck pace, photography was her way of freezing time, of holding onto the moments that mattered. Her days were filled with shoots, editing sessions, and gallery meetings, but her nights belonged to Tom. 

She met Tom on a crisp autumn afternoon. He was the model for a high-profile fashion shoot, and the moment she saw him, something clicked. His chiseled features, confident demeanor, and the way he carried himself—it all drew her in. What started as professional banter quickly turned into late-night conversations, shared dinners, and eventually, love. 

They had been inseparable for the past three years. Y/N often marveled at how lucky she was to have found someone like Tom. They complemented each other in every way—her quiet introspection balanced his outgoing charm, her artistic vision complemented his natural talent in front of the camera. When he proposed under the soft glow of the Brooklyn Bridge, she said yes without hesitation. 

But love, Y/N was beginning to realize, could be as fleeting as the moments she captured on film. 

It started with little things—a text message he quickly hid, unexplained absences, and a change in his behavior that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Y/N tried to ignore it at first, brushing away her unease as paranoia. But the doubts gnawed at her, growing larger and more insistent with each passing day. 

One evening, while Tom was in the shower, Y/N's curiosity got the better of her. She hesitated for a moment, heart pounding in her chest, before unlocking his phone. She wasn’t prepared for what she found. Dozens of messages, photos, and late-night plans with someone else. Her worst fears confirmed, she felt her world collapse in on itself. 

Tom emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing out behind him, and saw the look on her face. There was no need for words—he knew she had found out. 

"Y/N, I can explain," he started, but she cut him off. 

"Don’t," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "Just… don’t." 

The apartment that had once felt so warm and safe now felt suffocating. She needed to escape, to put as much distance between herself and this betrayal as possible. Without a word, she grabbed her suitcase, threw in whatever she could find, and walked out the door, leaving Tom standing there, drenched in the silence of his own making. 

At the airport, she stared blankly at the departure board. She had no plan, no destination in mind—just the overwhelming urge to be anywhere but here. Texas. It was the first place that caught her eye. A place far from the towering skyscrapers and the painful memories they held. She bought the next ticket out and boarded the plane, leaving behind the city that had given her so much, yet taken away even more. 

As the plane lifted off, Y/N stared out the window at the sprawling city below, the lights glittering like a thousand broken promises. She let the tears fall freely now, each one a testament to the love she thought she had, the life she thought she was building. 

-- 

Texas greeted her with open skies and a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold she felt inside. She rented a small cabin on the outskirts of a quiet town, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life. The days passed slowly, the rhythm of the rural life a stark contrast to the frenetic pace she was used to. She spent her mornings walking along dusty trails, camera in hand, capturing the beauty of a world that seemed so far removed from her own. 

One day, as she was photographing a field of wildflowers behind her rented cabin, swaying gently in the breeze, she noticed a young couple lounging near a tree. They couldn’t have been more than sixteen, the girl with long, flowing hair and the boy with a mischievous grin. There was something so innocent, so pure about their presence. Y/N raised her camera and snapped a few shots, the soft click of the shutter almost lost in the rustling of the leaves. 

The couple noticed her, and she waved them over, smiling. They approached, curious and a little shy. 

"Hi there," Y/N greeted them warmly. "I hope you don’t mind—I couldn’t resist capturing such a sweet moment." 

The girl blushed, her eyes sparkling with young love. "No, we don’t mind at all. Can we see?" 

Y/N showed them the photos on the camera’s screen. The girl gasped in delight. "These are beautiful!" 

"You two make a lovely picture," Y/N said, feeling a pang of something bittersweet as she looked at them. They reminded her of a time when she, too, had believed in love that simple and untainted. 

"My mom has a darkroom at home," the girl said suddenly, her voice filled with pride. "She used to develop photos all the time.” Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. "A darkroom? That’s rare to find these days. Where do you live?" 

The girl pointed off toward the distance. "Not far, just a couple of miles down the road. You should come by sometime!” The boy nudged the girl gently. "We should get going, Sam. It’s getting late." 

Samantha nodded, smiling at Y/N giving her hand. "Samantha, Sam for short, It was really nice meeting you." 

"You too, I’m Y/N" She replied, watching as they walked away, hand in hand, disappearing into the twilight. As Y/N stood there, the camera hanging loosely from her neck, she couldn’t resist capturing one last image of the young couple. They walked hand in hand toward the setting sun, their silhouettes framed perfectly by the golden light. She clicked the shutter, knowing that this moment, like so many others, would be one she would keep with her. 

-- 

The following week, Y/N found herself at a quaint café in town, her laptop open in front of her. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as she sipped her drink, her focus on editing the photos she had taken over the past few days. The images of the teenage couple were among her favorites, and she found herself drawn to the warmth and innocence captured in each shot. 

As she worked, the familiar sound of a truck pulling up outside the café caught her attention. She glanced up just as the door swung open, revealing Samantha and a man who looked to be in his early forties. He had light brown hair, slightly tousled, and sharp green eyes that contrasted with his weathered face—features that suggested years of hard work under the Texas sun. 

Samantha’s eyes lit up when she saw Y/N. She waved enthusiastically, her smile as bright as ever. Y/N smiled back, motioning for them to join her at the small table by the window. 

“Hi, Y/N!” Samantha greeted her cheerfully, sliding into the chair across from her. The man followed suit, offering a polite nod. 

“Hey, Samantha,” Y/N replied warmly, turning her laptop so they could see the screen. “I was just working on your photos. What do you think?” 

Samantha leaned forward, her eyes widening as she took in the image of herself and her boyfriend walking into the sunset. The colors were rich and vibrant, the mood of the moment perfectly captured. She gasped, her excitement bubbling over. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, this is amazing! I love it!” 

Y/N smiled, pleased with the reaction. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to capture that feeling—you two looked so happy.” 

The man, who Y/N assumed was Samantha’s father, peered at the screen, his green eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “That’s a great shot, but I thought you two had broken up?” 

Samantha’s expression shifted instantly from joy to irritation. She shot her father a sharp look. “Dad, seriously? You don’t understand a thing, do you?” 

Y/N watched the exchange, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the tension between them. It was clear there was something deeper going on beneath the surface. 

Her father sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if searching for the right words. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Sammy. You’re young, and sometimes boys aren’t as true as they seem.” Samantha crossed her arms, her voice defensive. “I know that, but we’re fine. It was just a stupid argument, okay? We’ve moved past it.” 

Y/N, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, gently interjected. “It’s clear from the photos how much you care about each other. Relationships can be complicated, especially when you’re young, but it’s the love and the connection that really matter.” 

Samantha’s expression softened as she glanced back at the image on the screen. “Yeah… you’re right. We do care about each other. I just wish Dad would stop worrying so much.” 

Her father gave a small, resigned smile. “It’s my job to worry, Sam. 

The moment of tension eased, and Y/N felt a sense of relief. She closed her laptop, feeling like she had intruded on a private moment. “Y/N, would you mind sending me a copy of that picture?” Samantha asked, her voice lighter now. “I’d love to print it out and hang it in my room.” 

“Of course,” Y/N replied, smiling. “I’ll email it to you tonight.” 

As they got up to leave, Samantha’s father paused, glancing back at Y/N with an expression that suggested he wanted to say something more. His green eyes flickered with a mixture of hesitation and thoughtfulness, but after a brief moment, he simply nodded and walked out the door, following Samantha. 

Y/N watched them go, wondering what he had been about to say, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. Instead, she packed up her things and headed back to her cabin, where she spent the evening editing more photos, including the one Samantha loved. True to her word, she sent the image to Samantha later that night, feeling satisfied with the day’s work. 

-- 

A few days later, Y/N found herself wandering through the small town, her camera slung over her shoulder as always. The sun was warm, casting a gentle glow over the streets, and she felt more at peace than she had in a long time. As she passed by the local high school, she noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board, hanging up posters and flyers. 

Curious, Y/N walked over and saw Samantha among them, carefully pinning up a large picture of a race with bold lettering announcing a charity event. The flyer explained that the race was part of a school project to raise money for a local cause, and the image captured the excitement and energy of the event perfectly. 

“Samantha!” Y/N called out, waving as she approached. 

Samantha turned, her face lighting up when she saw Y/N. “Hey! What do you think?” she asked, gesturing to the poster she had just hung up. 

“It looks great,” Y/N said, admiring the picture. “You’re doing this as a school project?” 

“Yeah,” Samantha nodded enthusiastically. “We’re trying to raise money for a new sports field. The schoolpaper is doing a big feature on it, and we want to get as much coverage as possible.” 

Y/N smiled, already anticipating what was coming next. Samantha’s passion for the project was infectious, and Y/N could see how much it meant to her. 

So,” Samantha began, her tone hopeful, “I was wondering… would you be willing to take some pictures for the schoolpaper? I know it’s a lot to ask, and we don’t really have a budget, but it would mean so much to us. We’re hoping you might be able to do it for free?” 

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Of course, I’d love to help out,” she said warmly. “I’m happy to do it.” 

Samantha’s face lit up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you so much, Y/N! This is going to make a huge difference.” 

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of fulfilment in being able to contribute to something meaningful. “Just let me know the details, and I’ll be there.” As they chatted about the upcoming event, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. The more she immersed herself in the community, the more she realized that this small town had given her something she hadn’t expected a new home. 

-- 

The day of the event arrived with a clear, bright sky and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of grilled food and sweet treats from the stalls lining the field. Y/N had chosen a light blue summer dress, the fabric swaying around her legs as she moved. She’d even bought a new pair of cowboy boots, a nod to the local style, and felt a little thrill at how they clicked against the ground as she walked. She was trying to fit in with the laid-back yet distinctly Texan vibe of the town, and from the friendly nods and smiles she received, she figured she was doing a decent job. 

The event was held at a large open field, which had been transformed into a lively fairground. There was a race track with wooden horses where kids lined up eagerly for their turn, a children’s rodeo that drew cheers and laughter from the crowd, lasso-throwing contests, and a variety of stalls offering everything from smoked brisket to homemade pies. The high school cheerleaders were busy running around in their uniforms, selling tickets for the upcoming football game, their energy infectious as they chattered and laughed, adding to the festive atmosphere. 

Y/N wandered through the crowds, her camera slung around her neck, capturing the vibrancy of the day. She photographed the wooden horses mid-race, the concentrated faces of children trying to lasso a wooden calf, and the rows of colorful stalls filled with local treats. Everywhere she looked, there were moments worth preserving. 

As she scanned the scene for her next shot, she spotted someone who immediately caught her eye. Dressed in all denim—jeans, a button-up shirt, and a well-worn cowboy hat—a man stood at the lasso-throwing area, his tall frame and broad shoulders making him stand out even in the crowd of similarly dressed locals. He had a short, neatly kept beard that added a rugged edge to his features, and as he moved, there was a calm confidence in his every gesture. 

Y/N raised her camera, zooming in slightly, and watched through the lens as he skillfully threw the lasso, effortlessly roping the target. There was something about him that made him different from the countless other men she had seen that day, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Maybe it was the ease with which he carried himself or the quiet intensity in his expression as he focused on the task at hand. 

She snapped a few shots, capturing the moment as the lasso looped perfectly around the wooden steer. As she lowered the camera to check the images, she noticed him glance in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and she felt a small jolt of surprise when he nodded and smiled, acknowledging her presence. There was a warmth in his smile, a subtle charm that seemed to suggest he was used to being watched but wasn’t bothered by it. 

Just as Y/N was about to return the smile, Samantha popped up beside her, nearly startling her. 

“That’s my dad,” Samantha said with a grin, clearly proud. “He wins at the lasso game every time. It’s not even fair, really—he’s been doing this since he was a kid, and owning a cattle ranch doesn’t hurt.” 

Y/N looked back at Jensen—now realizing he was Samantha’s father—throwing another perfect lasso. It suddenly made sense why he seemed so familiar, even though she hadn’t met him properly before. 

“So, he’s an expert, huh?” Y/N replied, watching as Jensen accepted a small prize from the booth operator with a casual wave of his hand. 

“Yeah,” Samantha said, rolling her eyes playfully. “He’s good at just about everything when it comes to ranch stuff. Mom always said he could rope the moon if he wanted to.” 

Y/N chuckled, amused by the image that conjured. She turned her camera back to the scene, snapping a few more pictures of the other contestants, but she found herself glancing back at Jensen every so often, intrigued by the man who seemed so much a part of this town yet somehow stood out to her in a way she couldn’t quite explain. 

“Want to meet him?” Samantha asked, noticing Y/N’s lingering gaze. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment. “Sure, why not?” she finally said, feeling a mix of curiosity and something she couldn’t quite name. 

Samantha led the way through the crowd, weaving between people who greeted her with familiar smiles and nods. As they approached, Jensen looked up, his green eyes bright with recognition as he saw them coming. He tipped his hat slightly, a polite gesture that felt almost old-fashioned but perfectly in character. 

“Dad, this is Y/N,” Samantha said, introducing them with a wide smile. “She’s the photographer I told you about—the one helping with the school paper.” 

Jensen extended a hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’ve seen you around town a few times. You’re doing some good work with that camera.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, shaking his hand and noticing how warm and strong it felt. “I’ve been enjoying capturing the spirit of the town. It’s a lot different from New York.” 

Jensen smiled, a touch of humor in his green eyes. “I figured you were a city girl.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What makes you say that?” 

He glanced down at her new cowboy boots, then back up at her with a playful grin. “Let’s just say you’ve got a bit of a city way of dressing.” 

Before Y/N could respond, a group of men called out to Jensen from across the fairground, waving him over. Jensen tipped his hat to Y/N with a slight, respectful nod. “If you’d excuse me, ma’am,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle Texas twang, before turning and heading toward the group. 

Y/N watched him go, her mind still turning over his words. She glanced down at her boots, wondering what exactly he had meant. “What’s wrong with my boots?” she asked, turning to Samantha, a hint of confusion in her voice. 

Samantha burst into laughter, the sound light and teasing. “Nothing’s wrong with them, I promise,” she said, grinning at Y/N’s puzzled expression. “My dad’s just old-fashioned. He can tell those boots are brand new—he’s used to seeing people in well-worn work boots around here. He wasn’t being serious, just poking a little fun.” 

Y/N let out a relieved laugh, realizing that Jensen’s comment had been more about teasing than criticism. “So, it’s not about me looking out of place?” 

Samantha shook her head, still smiling. “Not at all. It’s just his way of saying he noticed. You’re doing just fine—better than fine, actually. You’re fitting in more than you think.” 

Y/N smiled, feeling reassured. “Thanks, Samantha. I guess I’ll just have to break these boots in a little more.” 

“Yeah, maybe do a little more walking in them,” Samantha said with a wink. As the day wore on, Y/N continued to move through the fairground, her camera clicking away to capture the vibrant energy and joyful moments of the event. The wooden horses, the excited kids, the colorful stalls—all provided ample opportunities for great shots. Yet, despite her best efforts to focus on everything happening around her, her attention kept drifting back to Jensen. 

He seemed to have an effortless way of commanding attention, even when he wasn’t actively posing. His tall, broad-shouldered frame and confident, relaxed demeanor made him stand out naturally. Y/N found herself repeatedly drawn to him, her lens finding him almost instinctively, as if he was the centerpiece of her day. 

Jensen moved through the fairground with an easy grace, interacting with people, participating in games, and generally embodying the spirit of the event. Each time Y/N looked through her camera, he was there—his presence somehow adding a special quality to every shot. His laughter was infectious, his expressions genuine, and his movements so natural that he seemed to glide through the day with an effortless charm. 

As she followed him around, Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. It was as though each snapshot of Jensen was more than just a photograph—it was a moment captured in time that held a kind of magic. Her favorite shot of the day came when Jensen was in the middle of a hearty laugh, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling with joy. His perfect white teeth gleamed against the backdrop of the fairground, and there was something so incredibly captivating about the way he looked in that moment. The raw, unguarded joy he exuded made the photograph feel alive, brimming with the essence of the day. 

Y/N looked at the image on her camera’s display, and her heart skipped a beat. The way Jensen's laughter was caught mid-air, the way his eyes crinkled with mirth—it was as if she had managed to capture a piece of his soul, and it was both thrilling and slightly unnerving. The fluttering in her stomach intensified, and she found herself smiling, unable to shake the feeling that there was something profoundly special about this moment. 

As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden light over the fairground, Y/N knew that this day would be one she wouldn’t forget. Jensen had unwittingly become the focal point of her photographs, and she couldn't deny that he had also become the focal point of her thoughts too.  

-------

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[junnieverse]

LOVE TROPES WITH ➳ ZEROBASEONE

➙ what love trope you are with zb1

pairing: zb1 x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warning: lowercase intended, not proofread, may have gotten carried away with a few of these (I'm sorry), yujin's trope with the reader is PLATONIC!!

a/n: if you guys would also like me to make one of these a full oneshot, please don't be scared to send in an ask!

🖇️ — 성한빈 ; SUNG HANBIN !

↳ love at first sight

making your third trip of the week to your favourite cafe, you sit down nearest the window quietly admiring your barista crush as he smiled at a customer making his drink

sung hanbin had been your crush ever since you moved to this city and his family's cafe being the closest one to your school, you had frequently visited it to study or grab a drink before a lecture

he was absolutely perfect to you. he was sweet, funny and had the prettiest smile

"Here's your order (y/n), good luck with your studying," hanbin says placing down your favourite drink and dessert which had been your go to order

"Hey Hanbin, would you like to go see a movie with me sometime?" you courageously ask as your heart beat quickens in anticipation

showing you his lovely smile, he looks down with a blush before nodding, "Sure, I would love that."

🖇️ — 김지웅 ; KIM JIWOONG !

↳ roommates to lovers

moving to a new city for work was a whole hassle but luckily you were able to find a great place to rent out

since you couldn't afford to live alone just yet, you had settled on finding a space with a roommate and that's how you met kim jiwoong

you had both agreed to keep your distance and 'live separately' but after a night in, downing ice cream and crying over your stupid ex who just broke your heart, the last person you expected to comfort you was jiwoong

ever since that day, you'd both grown even closer, from mornings making breakfast while dancing to songs blasting through the speakers to late night weekends where you both cuddled up and binged your favourite kdramas and movies

over that time, you realised that you were starting to see jiwoong as more than just a roommate and friend of yours

mustering up the courage, you finally let your feelings known to him while you both were watching a movie and before you could even comprehend what you'd just done, you felt his lips on yours

🖇️ — 章昊 ; ZHANG HAO !

↳ tutor x student

your grades had been plummeting as of recently and you knew you had to get a tutor before you could potentially lose your scholarship

it had been a few weeks now of being tutored by hao after your professor recommended him and you could already see your results getting better all thanks to his help

over the time of him helping you, you had both became good friends who would often hang out even out of your tutoring sessions

despite having bloomed a wonderful friendship, you ended up falling for him too, who wouldn't though, hao was pretty much everyone on campus' dream boyfriend

"Staring isn't very nice y'know, but because you're cute I don't mind." hao says lifting his head up pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose

clearing your throat awkwardly you look down in embarrassment, "I-I was not staring, I just thought something was on your face," you excuse going back to reading the notes in your textbook

"So this new restaurant just opened up a couple minutes from here, wanna check it out together?" he brightly asks diverting his attention away from the book he was reading.

"Oh sure, I can invite-" you started off by saying before you had been abruptly cut off

"I was thinking maybe just the two of us... a date if you'd like?" he shyly admits scratching the back of his neck

🖇️ — 석우현 ; SEOK MATTHEW !

↳ best friend's brother

yes you absolutely loved being with your best friend and going over to her house, but oh did you also love seeing her brother there too

what had started off as a you waking up to find your head laid on matthew's shoulder after falling asleep on him the night before watching movies with him and his sister soon turned into a huge crush

everytime you'd go over to see your best friend, matthew was always so sweet to you, making conversation and offering to make you and his sister food or drinks and those little gestures made your heart skip a beat

your best friend didn't know about this crush you had on her brother and quite frankly, you didn't know how she would handle the news either. to be fair it's not easy having to imagine your best friend cuddled up with your brother and making googly heart eyes at him

but ofcourse she was your best friend for a reason, she knew when something was bothering you and you knew you had to come clean

"Wait, you have a crush on my brother?!" she accidentally yells out loud standing up in shock as a second gasp was heard from the door

there matthew was red faced in embarrassment for not only hearing the person he likes, likes them back but also because he felt bad for overhearing this private conversation

you felt like you could dig up a hole and bury yourself in it, but the universe works in mysterious ways, because in the end you got to be with the boy of your dreams

🖇️ — 김태래 ; KIM TAERAE !

↳ fake relationship

a small situation where you wanted all your friends to stop bugging you about being single had someone turned into this huge one where you were now somehow in a fake relationship with your friend taerae

you didn't want to involve him and he didn't want to be involved either but you had panicked after lying to your friends about having a boyfriend and taerae somehow managed to be around at the time and you pointed to him

being the good friend that he was, taerae did agree to help you, so long you gave him the other ticket to the concert you both wanted to go to in exchange

you would both walk hand in hand and show public displays of affection and everyone believed you both, but at some point it all felt like it was becoming too real and you were actually falling for him

during the course of this fake relationship you got to see so many sides of taerae you never got to before and it all brought butterflies to your stomach

it was the night of the concert and taerae came over to pick you up as you both headed there together, the music and performances were all so amazing and you were happy to be able to share these memories with your 'boyfriend'

during an interval, the performer announced a crowd kiss cam and deep down you were praying it wouldn't land on you and yet somehow in a crowd of thousands, you and taerae landed on the big screen

you hadn't kissed taerae ever despite this fake relationship just out of respect for him but for once you wanted to be selfish and follow your heart

you suddenly held onto his shirt pulling him closer and kissed him and never in your wildest dreams did you expect him to kiss you back as the crowd cheered

🖇️ — 沈泉锐 ; RICKY SHEN !

↳ holiday romance

vacation time was definitely your favourite time of the year, you could relax, unwind and discover new places

and during your holiday trip, you ended up meeting ricky shen and it all felt like a summer dream to you

you had been out shopping and ricky had mistakenly bumped into you making you fall across the street breaking your glasses which happened to fall too

"Oh no, my glasses!" you yell as your voice cracks looking at the broken pair of glasses

after profusely apogising multiple times, having been too focused on your glasses you finally look up at the culprit and your eyes immediately widen stunned at his beauty

you're soon pulled out of your thoughts as ricky waves his hand in your face "Hello? I was asking if I could pay you back for the damages. I feel really bad."

no matter how much you refused, ricky insisted on paying you back and you soon gave in giving him your number

"Hey, it's Ricky, I was just calling to ask when we could meet up to replace your glasses? And maybe I could take you out on a date to make up for it too."

let's just say your date was nothing less than being perfect, he was a gentleman and your beach picnic date watching the sunset was all you could think about

🖇️ — 김규빈 ; KIM GYUVIN !

↳ best friends to lovers

you and gyuvin had been friends for as long as you can remember, both your mom's even had pictures of you running around hand in hand wearing diapers sort of long

you knew everything about him and he knew everything about you... well he didn't know about your insanely huge crush you had developed on him

it all started after you asked out your old crush and gyuvin went out his way to buy you gifts and food to cheer you up and him comforting you that way pulled at your heart strings... he no longer was just a best friend in your eyes, you wanted more

"BRO GUESS WHAT?! I HAVE A DATE THIS WEEKEND!!" gyuvin excitedly yells bursting into your room as he laid on your bed next to you

you immediately sit up upon hearing the news and your heart drops, "W-WHAT?! Oh wow, that's amazing Gyuvin!" you feign excitement trying not to break down.

your friends had been encouraging you to confess to him for the longest time but you were so afraid of ruining the lifetime friendship you'd both built

on the day of his date, you rushed over to his house as he was about to leave stopping him in his tracks

"Oh hey (y/n), here to wish me luck on my date?" gyuvin playfully mentions as he smiles but it quickly drops as he notices your sad expression

"I know I should've done this earlier but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My feelings are all over the place and everytime I think about you going on this date I feel sick-" you ramble as gyuvin tells you to slow down confused at your sudden words

"I like you okay? And I have for years now but I was afraid of losing you if I admitted this but just reject me now and I'll get over it," you say with a heavy heart, not hearing him say anything you look up to him to find him smiling ear to ear

"I like you too dummy."

🖇️ — 박건욱 ; PARK GUNWOOK !

↳ academic rivals to lovers

"1st place once again, Park Gunwook." you whispered reading the list of top learners for the semester as you'd placed in a close second

it was pretty infuriating having to constantly compete with gunwook, it was like a game of ping pong where the first and second place spots would bounce back and forth between you both

for as long as you could remember, it had always been a competition, it was just unfortunate that the person you were competing with was extremely attractive and kind, he made it hard to not like him

"Huh- guess you're not 1st this time, better luck next time." gunwook says appearing next to you as he looked at the list

"Wait! Let's have a bet. If I place in 1st for our next test, you have to... carry my school bag around everyday for the next month!" you offer pridefully as gunwook raises his eyebrow

"Okay then. But if I get 1st place, you have to go out on a date with me." he says leaning in closer to you as he bent down to whisper the last part before he walked away leaving you too stunned to speak

(a/n: 'the woman was too stunned to speak'... I'm sorry I just had to, you would too-)

🖇️ — 한유진 ; HAN YUJIN !

↳ tom and jerry

yujin, despite being your lovely friend, was as you enjoyed to call him "an annoying fly around you"

you both were flies to each other if anyone had to see it, constantly teasing and making fun of each other

his love language was being the annoying friend and he lived for making fun of you

he wouldn't admit it but you know he has a soft spot for you, no matter how much he annoys you, you're his best friend (don't tell gyuvin though)

"Would you love me as a worm?" you ask yujin shortly taking a break as you studied together

"That's if you'd even make it out alive, I might accidentally step on you." he answers cheekily as he ruffled your hair

no matter how much of a 'headache' he was, you still kept him around because he was funny and that was good enough /j

[perfectsunlight]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟑]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEEEE WE CHEERED.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

sm entertainment officially announced ningning’s hiatus one month after her arrival at the rehab center.

they said she was taking time for herself in order to focus on her health and wellbeing. most people had no idea where she had gone. 

dispatch had no sightings of her for weeks. they did not even know when she was at the hospital either, to which everyone was thankful for. the company was shocked to know that the chinese idol was willing to get sent to rehab. 

however, despite the initial shock, they offered to pay for all the expenses and also said she could take all the time she needed in order to get better. 

the truth is bulletproof, there's no fooling you

i don't dress the same

yizhuo needed to be away from the city. she needed to be somewhere where she could find who she truly was. geoje was where the company decided to send her. it was a 4 hour drive from seoul, making it just far enough for her to get away, but also close enough for people to come visit. the city was right off the coast of busan, situated on an island connected to the mainland via bridges.

she would hate to admit it, but part of her never wanted to leave geoje. it was beautiful, and she felt like she could be herself within the sanctuary of the rehab center. it was a bit difficult at first, opening up to complete strangers about her issues, but she was willing to try her best.

that was all anyone expected of her here — to just try her best.

she had never had that environment. it felt nice to have such a change. it felt right. 

me and who you say i was yesterday

have gone our separate ways

most of the people who arrived at the center were older than she was, meaning they had no idea who she was. there was an older woman who worked as an instructor for an art class that the facility offered, and whenever ning would go in and draw, she would sing.

she had told yizhuo that she should become a singer when she gets out because her voice was outstanding. all the chinese girl could do was smile and laugh a little.

it was ironic for her. she used to love being known by everyone as “ningning from aespa”, but here she loved being unknown. when she arrived, she said she was an international student studying korean language at yonsei. 

it was a believable cover story, and no one questioned it. the anonymity was a relief. she could walk around without the weight of her idol identity. 

there were no fans to impress, no expectations to meet, no cameras capturing her every move. 

she could just be yizhuo, a young woman finding her way back to herself. 

left my living fast somewhere in the past

'cause that's for chasing cars

days at the center had a gentle rhythm. mornings began with a communal breakfast, where she’d chat with the other residents, exchanging stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. after breakfast, there were various therapy sessions. she found solace in group therapy, where she realized she wasn’t alone in her struggles. the stories she heard, though different from her own, were a reminder that everyone had their battles. in the afternoons, she often joined the art class. 

the instructor, mrs. lee was her name, was a kind-hearted woman in her sixties, with a voice that was both soothing and encouraging. she felt more of a mother to yizhuo than her own had. her words of praise and encouragement made ning feel seen, not as an idol, but as a person with potential beyond her public persona. 

it was different to have someone so maternal, but she thoroughly felt better. whenever it felt difficult to open up, she would talk to mrs. lee. she had a way of listening that made yizhuo feel understood, without judgment or pity. the idol realized all she ever needed was someone who wouldn’t pity her.

turns out open bars lead to broken hearts

and going way too far

the two became closer when the older woman found her crying after her first few sessions of therapy with the facility’s psychiatrist. mrs. lee never asked any questions, and simply just embraced the younger girl in a tight hug until yizhuo’s tears stopped. from that day forward, ning went to mrs. lee for everything.

“you're stronger than you think,” mrs. lee would often say, her aged eyes filled with kindness. “you’ve done well. only you can be the best version of yourself, for yourself.” these words resonated deeply with the young idol. she began to see her journey not as a series of failures, but as a testament to her resilience.

she was ning yizhuo, a girl who did the best she could. and that was all she could ever want to be.

take one, pour it out

it's not worth crying 'bout the things you can't erase

on days when she felt particularly overwhelmed, yizhuo would take long walks along the coast. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was therapeutic. ning had never been a fan of beaches (mostly because of the sand), but upon arriving in geoje, she fell in love with them.

at first, she would just walk to the steps that led down to the sand but not descend. she’d only lean against the railing and watch the water from above, not wanting to touch the sand. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides calmed her, the vastness of the ocean making her own problems seem smaller, more manageable. 

like tattoos and regrets

words i never meant and ones that got away

but as days turned into weeks, she found herself longing to be closer to the water. one morning, she took a deep breath and made her way down the steps. she hesitated at the bottom, toes just inches away from the sand. 

with a determined sigh, she stepped onto the beach, feeling the grainy texture beneath her feet. the initial discomfort faded as she walked along the shore, the cool water lapping at her ankles. it became a ritual for her—each day, she’d venture a little further, letting the sand and sea become her sanctuary. 

she began to see the beach not just as a place, but as a metaphor for her own journey—constantly changing, yet always moving forward.

left my living fast somewhere in the past

and took another road

the young woman found herself collecting different things from each trip to the shore. on some days it was a small rock, and others it was other things.

she often collected seashells to save them for you. they were like little pieces of happiness for her, just like you were.

sometimes, she’d even sit on a large rock by the water’s edge, watching the waves crash and retreat. one of the gifts you had given her before she left was a digital camera. without missing an evening, ning took photos of every sunset. 

it reminded her of you, after all. it was only fair of her to show you.

the beach was quiet. ningning hated the quiet before. now, she loved it.

quiet meant she could breathe. she had control of her thoughts and emotions. she no longer let her mind bully her.

turns out crowded rooms empty out as soon

there's somewhere else to go, oh

visitors were allowed to come once a week, meaning most of the time, her members all came to visit her together. of course, she didn’t have a visitor every week, but sm made sure to keep these visits out of the public’s prying eyes when you or her members did come and visit. 

karina usually brought her new stationary, minjeong brought snacks, and aeri would bring her new sd cards for her camera or clothes for the seasonal changes. although ning was away from everyone she knew, she never truly felt lonely.

she had made peace with her isolation. however, the only person she constantly missed was you. 

she’d never thought of ever writing a letter, but she was over the moon when she saw you had written her one a few weeks after she was sent to the facility. mrs. lee teased yizhuo by saying she’d never seen her really smile until she saw her reading the letter. ningning missed you more than she could understand. 

it wasn’t a bad feeling of longing either, but rather a feeling of curiosity for what you were doing at the moment. before she had left seoul, you had mentioned to yizhuo that you had broken up with aeri the night she was hospitalized. 

ningning didn’t need to ask any questions about it, she knew why it happened. you cared about ning. more than anyone else, or anything else. 

and she cared about you, too. more than anyone else, or anything.

i know i used to be crazy

messed up, but, god, was it fun

after being in rehab for 6 months, ningning was finally comfortable enough to return to seoul. 

on her last day there, mrs. lee had brought her a gift. it was a beautifully wrapped box with a note attached to it. the note read, “for the journey ahead. with love, mrs. lee.” ning carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a set of watercolor paints in a case with her initials on it.

mrs. lee smiled warmly. “i thought you might want to continue expressing yourself through art. remember, these are tools for your journey, just as much as your voice is.” tears welled up in yizhuo’s eyes as she hugged the older woman tightly. 

mrs. lee must have known who she really was. the idol decided not to question it.

“thank you for everything,” she whispered. “i’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.” mrs. lee simply patted her back gently. “go out there and show the world who you have always been. and never forget, you’re always welcome back here if you need to escape.”

i know i used to be wild

that's 'cause i used to be young

the facility threw the young idol a send off ceremony the day before she was leaving. there were games and delicious food, and even karaoke. naturally, yizhuo stole the show with her voice. mrs. lee had been taking photos and videos for the chinese girl on the camera you got her. even though rehab was tough, ning didn’t ever want to forget her time here. 

“i’ve learned a lot here. thank you all for helping me remember who i truly am.” yizhuo said with a warm smile as she bowed, concluding her parting speech.

the applause that followed was heartfelt, and ningning felt a sense of closure and gratitude. the friends she had made and the experiences she had shared in geoje were now a part of her story, a chapter she would cherish forever. 

as the evening wound down, yizhuo mingled with the staff and residents, sharing hugs and promises to keep in touch. later that night, she found herself back at the beach for one last walk. the moonlight danced on the waves, creating a serene scene. she took out the camera and captured a few final shots, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

with a deep breath, she whispered a goodbye to the ocean, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. she was ready to move forward, but she would always carry a piece of this place with her. 

those wasted nights are not wasted

i remember every one

sm entertainment had expressed their excitement in regards to yizhuo feeling well enough to return to seoul. she was a bit nervous for facing the public and their questions to where she had been, but one thing the idol had learned was boundaries.

she didn’t have to tell the world where she had been. only the people who needed to know, knew.

ningning didn’t bring her phone with her to the facility. it was something the facility had requested before her initial arrival. it was quite the laugh when the chinese girl showed up with a mp3 player. however, the idol was thankful she downloaded as many songs as she could have because the upcoming 4 hour drive would be a bit more boring without it.

a car pulled up to the curb, and for a moment ning was confused. she couldn’t see who was inside because of the tinted windows, but when the passenger side window was lowered, she couldn’t help but smile.

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

you smiled and ning swore she was about to throw up from excitement. she practically bolted inside with her backpack and duffle, almost hitting her head on the roof when she got inside.

“hey, stranger,” you greeted her warmly, your eyes twinkling with joy. “ready to go home?” the chinese girl nodded, feeling a rush of emotions. she had missed you, she had missed seoul, she had missed her members.

 “more than ready.”

you tell me time has done changed me

that's fine, i've had a good run

“you didn’t forget anything, right?” you teased as you set the car into drive. the idol laughed at your remark before pretending to feign thought. “hm,” she hummed as she tapped her finger against her chin. “just this.”

ningning leaned over the center console and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

your cheeks flushed with a warm pink, and you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes playfully. “definitely not something to forget,” you replied, feeling a happy flutter in your chest. with one hand on the steering wheel, you took the other and intertwined your hand in the idol’s.

“let’s go home.”

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫.

a/n: WE CHEERED ! thank you for all of the support for this series, i love u all <3

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

CLOSED.

[littlejuicebox]

Hello Gina! Been loving your stories a lot specially Astarion talks in his sleep and My Sun, My Moon 1&2! which is why I wanna try if you can do a one shot of their 1st anniversary of marriage! 🤭 just wondering how it was for them, usually they say the 1st year is the toughest one but i wanna see how you see it 🤭 Many thanks!! i look forward to more stories!

Hello, my friend! <3

I really love this prompt! Marriage is hard and Astarion has his quirks that would def make him frustrating to Tav! Love isn't always sunshine and rainbows.

I took this in a slightly different direction, it's a reflection on their first major argument! Hope you like it. <3

Warnings/Tags: not edited or beta read / In-game spoilers, fluff/angst w comfort / married people having an argument / this follows my HC fics for redemption Astarion x Tav but I'm pretty sure it can be read as a OneShot

Word Count: 1.7K

-----

Astarion cannot concentrate on the blasted contract in front of him any longer. The delivery should have been here by now.

He only had a few hours before you returned from the Upper City and his entire plan for your first anniversary would be shot if the florists didn’t hurry the hells up.

“You said they would arrive by midday and now it’s nearly teatime, Pascal!” Astarion snaps at his steward, a middle-aged human with wide set eyes and a scar running horizontally along his nose bridge.

Pascal sits on the far end of Astarion’s office, reviewing a ledger. He slowly raises his eyes from the document to meet the petulant visage of his employer.

“That is what the florist told me, my Lord. But it is quite a large order. Fifty night-blooming plants and shrubs would likely take several carts, sir. It’s certainly possible they’ve run into delays along the way.” Pascal responds, his voice gentle but unbothered, as if he’s grown used to placating the moods of the vampire over the past year.

Astarion simply huffs in response, “We did not pay a premium for those ingrates to simply—“

He stops as his highly acute hearing catches the sound of wheels turning along the manor’s pebbled drive. By the raucous sound of it, there are several wagons making their way towards the home's entrance.

“Pascal, they're here. I will go greet them; round up the other servants and have them stop what they’re doing immediately. We will need all hands to make up for lost time.” Astarion says as he tosses the contract he’d been reviewing, leaving it with a large stack of papers scattered across his desk.

Several of those papers had the remnants of ink splotches and blood splatters from an hours-long drafting session he’d done on a business proposal the day prior. The goblet he'd been drinking from yesterday, dirtied with now-dried blood, sits haphazardly in the corner of the desk.

Astarion struggled to contain his natural propensity toward sloppiness. His mind often worked far too quickly for him to slow down and pay attention to trivial things like bloodstains and spilled ink.

However, after multiple gentle chastisements and one angry explosion from you, he’d managed to curb his disorganization to his office, which you accepted. The argument you two had, prior to coming to this arrangement, had truly terrified him.

The pale elf makes sure to grab the goblet and place it out in the foyer for the maid to grab; she had never been allowed to enter the master bedchambers or his office, for privacy. You two were responsible for keeping those areas tidy. Astarion did... almost nothing to his office, while you kept everything pristine in the bedroom.

Except for that one time before the argument. His mind wanders as he exits the office, reflecting on the memory that keeps him cleaning up his goblets.

-----

He could tell by your voice alone that you were angry. Furious, in fact. The sound ripped him away from the contractor agreement he'd been reviewing.

“Astarion! How many times do I have to ask you to not leave cups of blood in the bedchambers!” Your voice came booming down the hallway before you burst into the office, causing the door to slam into the wall with a loud thud. His eyes caught sight of the angry red splotches on your face, and then trailed down to your wedding dress, clutched in your shaking hand.

There was a large, crimson bloodstain smattered along the train. He almost fainted at the sight.

So many hours of his own work. Drenched in blood.

“I’d laid this out for the servants to frame today, and Scratch ran into the bedroom and knocked the goblet of blood — that you left there, completely full, by the way — off your nightstand and onto the dress!” You were waving the grown vehemently as you spoke, voice cracking toward the end.

Oh, his little love was infuriated. His gut sank at the thought.

The anger in your voice sounded entirely foreign, it was rare for you to speak in such a manner to anyone. But towards him? Never. You always spoke to him in soft, adoring tones and little whispers. The only time you truly raised your voice had been in bed, and he rather liked it then.

But this? He did not like this one bit. It made his undead heart thrum with anxiety.

“My love, I—“ He begins, his voice honeyed and smooth in the usual tone he used to appease you, but you cut him off.

“I’m sick of your excuses and your words, Astarion! I’m sick of cleaning up after you! I have asked you more than once to not bring blood into the bedroom and you've deliberately ignored me. And the one time I don’t remove the damned goblet from the bedchamber look what happened! I can’t keep—“

You were crying by then. Large, angry tears rolling in streams down your face as you swiped angrily at your eyes. That dress, and the hours of work he'd put into it, had been a testimony of his love to you. His actions had made your heart soar; seeing the gown ruined caused your heart to break entirely.

And Astarion's heart almost broke at the sight of his little love so distraught, but he had no words nor actions to soothe you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath; he watched as the patches of red faded from your cheeks. When you opened them, the sight scared him and when you spoke, he was terrified.

Your face was blank, unreadable. Your tone was resigned. In that moment, in the absence of any discernible emotion, he felt certain you were going to leave him.

Eight months into a marriage and he was already failing; he knew he hadn't been cut out for this.

“I am very patient with you, Astarion. We both knew this wouldn’t be easy… with well, everything. Your condition, navigating my newfound fame, easing back into normalcy when we both have our baggage... but I chose this. I chose you. I choose you every day. Over and over. A hundred times a day."

You paused, and your eyes flicked between his, searching for something.

“I just wish I felt like you were still choosing me, too.”

And then you were gone. You left the dress crumpled on the floor as you turned and walked away.

As he moved from his desk to pick the garment up from the ground, he heard you call for Scratch and exit the front door. The sun was out, he couldn't follow you. And even if he did, there would be nothing he could say to placate you. He needed to give you time and space and wait for you to come to him; it was something he’d learned over the past eight months. Although he hated it.

So, he stayed in his office, trying to work, and failing at that, too.

After a few more hours, it was time to head to bed. When he entered your shared bedroom, he realized the goblet you'd spoken about had splattered over the sheets and onto the carpet, as well. He removed the goblet from the bedroom and placed it in the foyer; and then he changed the sheets, which you usually did. He waited for you to come to bed, but you never showed. Hadn’t he given you enough time by now?

Eventually he traveled to the guest chambers, certain you must be there sulking, and when he attempted to enter the room, the door was locked. He knocked tentatively on the door.

"Tav, darling--"

"No. And don't you dare pick the lock, Astarion."

"Tav, my sweet, please--"

"Please, Astarion. Please just leave me alone."

He wanted to pick the lock. Wanted to break down the door. Wanted to hold you in his arms and whisper apologies in your ear until you forgave him. But you always told him that his actions spoke louder than his words; honeyed lamentations would not work on you. Another thing he’d learned this past eight months.

And then he thought of the dress, which he'd left draped across the sofa in his office.

While you slept, Astarion set to work. He could have outsourced the task, sure... but truthfully, he did not trust anyone else with the fine detailing work he had spent several hours doing with his own hands. He'd created the masterpiece himself, after all, so perhaps it was best he restores it himself.

He worked gently, and for several hours, scrubbing the blood out of the fine fabric. His time with Cazador had taught him many things, and unfortunately a skill he used more often than he liked happened to be removing bloodstains from nearly any fabric.

By the time the gown was restored, his hands were raw from hours immersed in the harsh combination of soaps, chemicals, and water. It was past noon when he finished; you had certainly risen by now, but you hadn't come looking for him.

Astarion asked Pascal to place the gown in the sunroom to dry and then resigned himself to his office, back to reviewing contracts.

It was several hours later when you knocked on the office door, eyes downcast and face remorseful.

He didn't say anything, he just simply opened his arms and you crossed into the office before folding yourself in his lap. A few moments of quiet passed between you.

"I saw what you did to the dress. It must have taken hours... thank you." You finally whispered as your face nestled into the side of his neck. Your hot breath tickled, and he hummed in acknowledgement.

"It did, darling. And the skin on my hands certainly is not happy about it," He starts, and your hand comes to his as you bring it closer to your face, examining the uncharacteristically cracked knuckles and reddened flesh, "But you are worth the effort. And more. I'm sorry about the cups, my love.”

You placed a kiss on his chapped knuckle. An acceptance of the apology. And then you turned to face him and pressed a soft, tentative peck on his lips that made his entire body melt into you. Before long you two wound up on the floor of his office, and he made sure to use his actions to ensure you knew just how much he cared about you. How much he chose you.

And every day since then, he'd been certain to no longer bring goblets in the bedroom, and always leave them sitting in the foyer for the maid regardless of what room he was in. A tiny daily action signifying his love for you.

[milksnake-tea]

5 + 1

"The 5 times he thought he loved you, and the 1 time he knew."

rollo flame x gn!reader

contains: fluff, pining (a lot of it like oh my god), strangers to friends to lovers, rollo being emotionally constipated, lots of POV changes, slight spoilers for rollo's backstory

word count: 6.3k

note: i can't defend myself </3 my legacy is just rollo at this point and i can't stop it

tags: @crysangria

———

Rollo doesn’t fall in love.

He’s well aware of its existence; the City of Flowers is renowned for its rather romantic aspects. Since the beginning of time, newly budding couples somehow always managed to hide in every corner of the city - tucked away from the overall public, but obvious enough for any local. Anyone who’s lived in the city for longer than a month learns to avoid the bridges, the alleyways, and of course, any bench at night.

While he has never understood the reasonings behind lovers’ touches and dreamy stares, even Rollo is unable to deny that the affections they displayed didn’t sound so bad… If he didn’t spend his first year in the city running into couples making out at every corner.

Noble Bell was no different.

In his three years at the institution, Rollo had quickly become accustomed to scolding the couples he found in the closets, under the staircases, and in empty classrooms. He learned to tune out the swoonings and fawnings that even his fellow council members fell victim to. 

When his peers fell in and out of love, Rollo remained impartial - a stone-cold statue of a president, unswayed by human emotion.

That was, until he met you.

—[1]—

A friend of a friend, that was who you were. A fellow third year who stayed just under the radar: never aiming too high, but never stooping too low. Just another face in the crowd, no one whom he would need to ever speak with.

The first time he sees you is in the library, during a study session between him, his secretary, and his vice president. Despite being part of the student council and already having a lot on their shoulders, Rollo’s top priority was education - and naturally, he would not let his peers fall.

It was obvious from the way their table was isolated that no one dared to even be near them. There were three other chairs at the table, but not a single soul dared to touch them, even if the library was overrun due to the upcoming exams.

Well, apparently you were not one of those souls.

“Um… Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Even if your voice was silenced to a whisper, the library’s murmurs skidded to a halt, as though someone had pressed a pause button. Suddenly, it was as if everyone in the world was holding their breath, their piercing gazes lining your back. Even Rollo’s friends looked afraid for your safety, his secretary giving you the most incredulous of looks.

And if asking to sit at their table wasn’t bad enough, you’d made the poor choice to choose the seat directly next to Rollo himself.

You were already regretting your decision, but you’d already committed to the act. Right now, your need to study was stronger than your fear of Rollo, and you were not going to join the poor souls on the floor.

Rollo was probably the only one who seemed unaffected by your request. He only glanced up from his paper for a moment, his striking green eyes meeting your own before he gave you a curt nod and returned to his work.

To say he was surprised was an understatement. His shock only deepened when you sat down, unloading your bag and taking out all of your study materials after a quick wave to his secretary. In only three minutes, you had settled into your work - as if you weren’t sitting next to the most feared and respected man in all of Noble Bell.

It was refreshing.

Soon enough, the library forgot you, and the hushed whispers rose back up again - both with gossip and with the frustrated grumblings of struggling students. As Rollo reviewed his lessons, studiously jotting down important notes and underlining key concepts, he couldn’t help but find his gaze drifting over to you.

Although you didn’t say anything (why would you, you were in a library), he could tell that you were stressed - even more so than usual. The frustration in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, the eraser shavings and the scrambled calculations a key signal that you were having trouble. 

Looking at what you were struggling with, he recognized the practice test for your upcoming chemistry test. Being the responsible student council president he was, he naturally stepped in to assist.

“You forgot to use the formula.”

“Huh.” You startled, your voice coming out strained and irritated at the sudden interruption. Rollo points at your calculations.

“Look here,” he explained, pointing at the rate table. “When they give you the Kc, the temperature, and the balanced equation, you use this to find Kp.”

Without any sense of shame, he reaches over and writes a formula next to your calculations. His handwriting is absurdly neat - almost as though it had been printed. You blank at the formula, recognizing it as the one you’d learned in the first lesson of this unit.

You groan in frustration as you erased your writing one more time. “By the Seven… I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t belittle yourself,” Rollo comments offhandedly, returning to his notes. “It happens to the best of us. Rather than a matter of intelligence, it’s an issue in memory and sleep deprivation.”

“You’re the one with eyebags,” you instinctively mutter. Instantaneously, the world freezes as you register your snip. Your eyes widen, and you’re already spewing apologies while Rollo stands still, caught off guard. “Sorry, that wasn’t my-”

“Are you always this straightforward with strangers?” he asks, and without thinking, you shoot back a retort.

“No, are you?” Immediately, you slap a hand over your mouth, horrified. “Oh my God, I am so sorry-”

His face is turned away from you, but you swear that you caught the corners of his lips twitching - quirking up into the slightest of smiles. “Be careful with your words.”

“O-Of course," you sigh. “My bad.” 

“Take care not to do it again.” Just as quickly as it came, Rollo’s smile disappeared, returning to neutrality. Perhaps he had never smiled at all. Thinking logically, you’re more inclined to believe the latter option.

Even his fellow council members are shocked. Rollo raises a brow at the way you rub your eyes, trying to make sense of what you saw. You’re so expressive, unlike the other students who kept it all hidden behind a mask of professionalism. It was refreshing, endearing even.

“You’d better get back to work now,” he advises (although it sounds like an order), his pen moving once more. “Exams are not meant to be taken lightly.”

“Right,” you mutter. Rollo’s eyes crinkle at the blatant distaste on your face as you reluctantly return to chemistry. You weren’t the only student who hated studying, far from it, but you were definitely the most open about it - especially in front of Rollo, who was infamous for his strict personality.

It’s not long before you test the waters and lightly tug at Rollo’s sleeve. Wordlessly, he glances over, and you show him your newly formed calculations - almost like a child showing off their newest drawing to their parents.

“Is this right?”

Rollo peers over at your shoulder, scanning the work you’ve written. He nods in satisfaction, looking over at you with something akin to pride.

“Good work,” he praises.

“Thanks,” you sigh in relief. You smile up at him. “It’s mainly because you helped me, though. So thanks for that, President.”

“Just Rollo is fine,” he assures calmly. You blink.

“You sure?”

“I prefer my name rather than my status,” Rollo explains. You hum in understanding.

“Gotcha. Thanks, Rollo.”

Rollo’s pen stills. You shoot him a questioning look, but he brushes it off and continues studying. He didn’t expect you to say it so easily - maybe he’d thought you’d be more hesitant.

But he doesn’t hate it. 

Rather, a small part of him finds that he rather likes the way his name rolls off your tongue.

—[2]—

You don’t expect to see Rollo again after that encounter, but it seems that fate had other plans.

Magical History wasn’t your favorite class, but it wasn’t the worse. You didn’t mind learning about the wars and inventions, and if anything, that made it all the more interesting to you. But your favorite part of it was how different people took up different sides and perspectives on each part of history.

You tapped your pencil impatiently against your notebook, eyes flicking from the chalkboard and to the clock. Class wasn’t starting for another five minutes, but you were anxious to get started. Today’s lecture was primarily for review, and Lord knows you needed it.

You glance over when someone sits next to you, only to choke on your spit when you see it’s Rollo Flamme himself. You rapidly scan the lecture hall, only to become more confused when you see that there was a multitude of seats open - in fact, the room was rather vacant.

“At ease,” Rollo says, his monotone voice not helping him in the slightest. You cough, smiling at him weakly. Suddenly, his tall stature was all the more apparent. “The view from here is the best in the room.”

“Yep…” You rub your arms awkwardly, suddenly cold despite the warm uniform you don. Now you were really praying that your teacher would show up quicker.

“Are you alright?” Rollo asks, noticing your demeanor. The subtle concern in his voice would’ve surprised you if you weren’t already freaked out of your wits. “Are you perhaps cold?”

“Nope!” You hastily reply, startling him with your raised voice. “I’m just peachy.”

“Peachy?” Rollo questions, but it seems like the Seven had been looking over you that day. You’ve never been more relieved in your life to see your teacher, today’s savior, walking through the door.

You have no idea how you manage to focus on the lecture with Rollo right next to you. Just his presence enough is intimidating, suffocating even, as though he was watching, judging your every move. He doesn’t even do anything special - he’s just listening to the lecture like every other student.

Sometimes, you think you see him staring at you, but whenever you look over, he’s quick to avert his gaze. It’s almost impressive, and you almost say something about it - except even you know better than to antagonize the student council president during a lecture.

For the first half hour of the lecture, you’re stuck in this state of constant edge, barely able to relax with this 6-foot giant practically looming over your shoulder. He wasn’t even doing anything in particular, but he didn’t need to. Just being there is enough to put you into fight-or-flight mode.

Sometimes you wonder if he’s just a sadist and likes watching you squirm.

You’re very correct.

Rollo’s only half paying attention to the lecture - he knows all of the content already. Rather, he finds entertainment and peeking over at you, seeing you freeze and stiffen up whenever you catch him in the act. It’s a game of cat and mouse for him, something he finds adorable.

“Why do you keep staring at me?” you whisper from the corner of your mouth. Rollo raises a brow.

“We shouldn’t be talking in class,” he replies simply, pretending to be paying attention. You roll your eyes.

“Nice dodge,” you scoff playfully, and Rollo smiles. It’s not much - just a quirk of the lips, so small that you’d have to squint to see it. It’s a smile whose warmth is subdued, like a little match in a snowstorm. You can’t put your finger on it; it’s almost like fondness, except that doesn’t sound right for the Rollo Flamme.

"You’re smiling," you state the obvious. Yet there's a certain awe in it - someone would've thought that Rollo had grown two heads by the way you were looking at him.

Rollo’s pen stops in its movements. He seems to lag for a moment, surprised and unsure, before his lips straighten and he’s back to normal.

“Is there an issue?”

“No,” you laugh. The initial fear you had felt has dissipated. Rollo’s smile, despite being so small you'd have to look at it through a microscope, was still a smile. “Just didn’t expect it from you, y’know? Since you’re all big and serious around here.”

“I see,” Rollo says quietly, turning away. If it weren’t for his stone-cold face, you would’ve compared him akin to a kicked puppy.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” you say. “I think it looks nice on you.”

Rollo remains silent, but the slight widening of his eyes is key enough. It's enough to bring a smile onto your face as you return your attention to the lecture.

Rollo doesn’t say anything after that, but he doesn’t need to. Any tension that had existed between you two had evaporated, the invisible wall opening its gates. Your body has visibly relaxed, and you’re able to fully concentrate on the lesson again.

In the corner of your eye, although you’re almost certain you imagine it, you think you see Rollo’s eyes soften.

—[3]—

When you’re not studying your sanity away at school, you’re working.

You work part-time at one of the many bakeries in the City of Flowers, famed for their pastries. You also sell coffee and tea for the many tired students from the college (such as yourself), so you’re used to seeing many of your classmates coming in the morning.

Around a month has passed since your little moment with Rollo. To put it simply, the two of you have gotten closer.

Studying together in the library became a common occurrence as you found yourself frequenting Rollo’s table more often. Apparently, Rollo’s standards wouldn’t let you study in peace, so he opted to personally tutor you to appease his own state of mind. In his own words, he couldn’t stand by and watch a classmate struggle in front of him.

Safe to say, Rollo was a strict teacher. He wasn’t afraid to point out the inconsistencies in your work, and often gave you tips on what to do. You were afraid that he’d get irritated with how much you overthought everything, but the most he’d give you would be a gentle tug on the cheek whenever you got ahead of yourself.

You look over at your shoulder at the modules you had left to complete. Thankfully, the number of papers had drastically decreased, thanks to a certain someone. Unknowingly, a smile slips onto your face at the thought of him.

The bell rings, and you’re immediately in work mode. You plaster on a customer service smile, straightening behind the counter.

“Hello, how can I help you- Oh hey, Rollo!” Your face breaks out in a grin at the sight of your study partner. “What’re you doing here?”

Honestly, it’s weird to see him without that uniform of his. Seeing him in a casual turtleneck and coat feels almost illegal, like you’re looking at something that only certain people should see.

“Oh, it’s you,” he briefly acknowledges, bright green eyes meeting your own before scanning the vast amount of display pastries. A month ago, you would’ve taken his apathetic greeting as coldness. But having been in his presence for quite a while now, you’ve learned to pick up the smallest of ques.

“Can I get you anything?”

Rollo tears his eyes away from the tempting pastries. “A medium black coffee, please.”

You nod, nimble fingers already moving to ring him up. “Will that be all?”

“Yes,” Rollo confirms, digging into his coat pocket for his wallet. As you tell him the price, you take out a coffee cup, writing Rollo’s name on it in sharpie. Turning your back to him, you opt to add a little message alongside it.

While you make the coffee, Rollo sets himself down in the corner of the bakery, taking out his study materials. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on the croissants, almost longingly. In the back of your head, you remember one of your conversations (you’d tried distracting him so that you could get a break. It lasted 3 minutes).

“So, what kind of food do you eat?”

“The same as everyone else.”

“No, like when you’re out. You know, like in your free time?”

“Oh. I suppose… Croissants. I’m rather fond of them.”

“Eh, makes sense.”

You figure that he’d probably skipped breakfast again, knowing him. Apparently, breakfast was optional to him. Despite being only 18, Rollo was already living the life of an overworked salaryman, always worried about his council and studying his life away.

But being the good friend you were, you weren’t letting that slide. Rollo was going to take care of himself, whether he liked it or not.

“Rollo?”

Right on cue, he stands up, walking to the counter to retrieve his drink. By all means, you give it to him, but right before he leaves, you call out to him.

“Oh, you forgot this!” 

Rollo’s brows crinkled at your exclaim. How could he have forgotten anything? The only thing he ordered was currently in his hands right now. Still, he returns to the counter, ready to call you out on your mistake.

He doesn’t get the chance to.

You press something wrapped and warm into his free hand. Looking down, Rollo’s pleasantly surprised with a freshly baked croissant. He jerks his face up to meet your gaze, confusion written all over his typically stoic face. It’s nice, to finally surprise him for a change.

“I know you didn’t eat breakfast today,” you explain cheerfully, leaning on your forearms on the bakery counter. “You didn’t think I would let you spend your day with just a coffee in your stomach, did you?”

“I can’t take this,” Rollo protested, already moving to hand you back the croissant. You click your tongue.

“Nope, you are,” you push his hand back. His hands are cold, you note. “It’s on the house, trust me. And if the owners have a problem with it, I can always pay for you.”

“But-”

“No buts,” you smile cheekily up at him, propping your head onto your hand. Rollo’s ears flush at just the tips. “I know you want it anyways, so stop being stubborn and just take the thing, okay? It’s fine, don’t worry.”

Rollo stares at you, conflict flickering in his eyes. To an outsider, he’s outright glaring at you, but you know there’s no malice. 

You can already imagine the inner turmoil fighting in his mind. On one hand, he wants the croissant - he’s been eyeing it for a good ten minutes - and he’s hungry. On the other hand, his moral righteousness won’t let him take anything without paying.

But in the end, his hunger (and you) wins him over. He sighs, reluctantly giving in.

“If you insist,” he says cooly, ignoring the way his heart pounds in his chest. “I’d best be going now. I’ll see you in class.”

“See you,” you wave, straightening yourself. Rollo turns to leave, but right before he does, you hear a faint murmur.

“Oh, and… thank you. For the croissant.”

—[4]—

“Every day, without fail, the president climbs the tower to clean the Bell of Salvation.”

It’s pouring outside when you remember the words of your friend, Rollo’s secretary. Looking outside your dorm’s window, the streets are dark as rain cascades from the sky and onto the city. Even from inside your warm room, you can feel the cold from the outside.

You can’t help but wonder if Rollo was also out there, still cleaning that Bell.

You wouldn’t put it past him, to be honest. That man was nothing if not a workaholic. Your friends in the student council had told you of how he spent countless all-nighters just to put together school events, and that wasn’t including his work as a student. But you didn’t need them to tell you any of that. Rollo’s constant eyebags and coffee addiction told you plenty enough.

You sigh to yourself, leaning onto the window. Your friend notices your sulking, sighing to himself as he walks over. You’ve been like that for a good twenty minutes now.

“President Flamme will be fine,” he says, sitting across the windowsill from you. “He always is.”

“In this weather?” you ask, barely sparing him a glance. “He’d catch a cold before he gets any cleaning done.”

“You’d be surprised,” your friend laughs. “He can be pretty persistent when he wants to be.”

You chuckle, eyes softening with the memories. “You've got that right. I still remember how he made me stay up for two hours until I could get a problem right. He even got food so that I couldn’t use it as an excuse for a break.”

“He did that for you?” Your friend’s eyes widen in surprise. You nodded sheepishly, a fond smile creeping on your face.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it either.”

Your friend snickers knowingly. You shoot him a look, only for him to brush it off.

“Anyway, if you’re that worried over him,” he suggests, “why don’t you go up and check on him? You’re the least likely to get yelled at if you do.”

“That’s what you say,” you roll your eyes playfully. “But you have a point. Unfortunately.”

“Always do,” your friend huffs pridefully. He winks at you as he lightly pushes you toward the exit. “Don’t worry about sneaking out. I’ll cover you.”

That’s how you found yourself scaling the old bell tower, holding an extra coat in your arms, a small flame dancing in the palm of your hand for light. You were careful to keep the flame from fanning out of control, as the tower was made from wood.

Your legs ached by the time you neared the top. You had no idea how Rollo did this on a daily basis, much less in the raging storm.

The wind battered at your face the second you reached the highest story, blowing rain into your eyes and nearly putting your flame out. Struggling to shield yourself from the wild tempest, you squint through the raindrops for Rollo. Thankfully, you didn’t have to look too far.

“Rollo?” you call out, your voice straining against the wind. Faintly you can spot the tall silhouette of your friend, somehow completely fine and still dutifully polishing the bell. “Rollo!”

The silhouette freezes, and turns to meet your gaze. You sigh in relief when you see the familiar green of his eyes, pushing your way through the storm to meet him.

“What are you doing here?” Rollo asks, caught off guard by your appearance. His gaze wanders over your body, noticing how drenched you were getting. “The storm is dangerous, you’ll catch a cold.”

“That’s what I should be saying!” you huff, lightly hitting his chest. “You’ve been out here cleaning the Bell for how long again?”

“Only an hour, the rain helps-”

You roll your eyes, putting your hands on your hips. “Only an hour?! You’re the one who’s going to get sick at this rate!”

“But I’m not-”

“Yeah, yeah, no, we’re going inside,” you retort, grabbing his hand. Rollo surprisingly doesn’t protest, allowing you to drag him off his precious bell and back into the safety of the tower. It’s by no means warmer, but it’s definitely drier.

You sit down on one of the many tables inside the tower, cringing as the walls shake from the wind. But you know that the tower won’t fall. It’s old, yes, but it has prevailed through storms like this before. The Bell of Salvation’s magic still runs strong.

“Your hands are freezing,” you comment, Rollo’s hand still intertwined with your own. His hands were always cold, but today they were like blocks of ice. You run your thumbs over the palms of his hands, cupping both of them before whispering a small spell.

Warmth tickles your palms like little embers, providing you and Rollo solace in the freezing winter. You let out a breath of contentment, before realizing just what you were doing. Snatching your hand away, you frantically apologize - not noticing the dejected look in Rollo’s eyes as you do so.

“Great Seven, I am so sorry-”

“I don’t mind,” Rollo says quietly, purposely avoiding your gaze. He silently thanks the darkened room for preventing you from seeing his flushed ears.

“You don’t?” you question, looking up at him. Briefly, you saw a glimpse of red before Rollo hastily looked away, lightly shaking his head. You feel your face warm, but decide to blame it on the magic. Hurriedly, you look for a way to change the conversation.

“So… I didn’t notice it earlier, but how are you perfectly dry in that storm?” you ask, rubbing your arms, cringing when you noticed how soaked you were. Rollo looks relieved from the change of subject.

“Magic,” he explains easily, as if it were obvious. And it kind of was. You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Oh, right,” you chuckle, glancing down at your ringed finger. You hummed, waving your hand and blasting yourself with a gust of hot air, effectively drying yourself. “It really solves everything, doesn’t it.”

Rollo’s face visibly sours at your comment. “Is that how you really feel?”

The coldness in his voice surprises you. You’ve never heard such hatred and malice from him before. Had you said something wrong? 

You swallow nervously. “What do you mean?”

“Do you truly think that magic solves everything?” Rollo crosses his arms, a scowl twisting his face.

“Well, it depends,” you say carefully, not wanting to set him off. You can already hear the warning bells in his tone. “The way I see it, magic’s a tool.”

“Even if it’s evil?” Rollo questions angrily. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself against him.

“I don’t think it’s evil,” you say firmly, yet softly. “I mean, look at this city. The Bell’s magic protects us, doesn’t it?”

“It didn’t protect-” Rollo cuts himself off. You give him a look, but don’t pry. It isn’t your business to ask nor to know what had happened to him for him to despise magic this much. He hadn’t said much, but it’s obvious to you.

“Like I said, magic is a tool,” you continue, facing him fully. “It’s like a knife. When you’re stabbed, you don’t blame the knife, but the person holding it.”

Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you can see the turmoil twisting in his eyes. You’re challenging something that had been in his life longer than you have, something that you’ve never seen.

You decide to take a risk, a step forward. Reaching out, you cup his hands in yours once again. Rollo only watches, confusion and anticipation keeping him curious.

You whisper your spell once again, except this time, the embers blossom into fire. Sparks of flame surround the two of you like fireflies, dancing daintily in the wind. Warmth like a mother’s embrace envelops the two of you as you hold a flickering flame in your intertwined palms.

The glow of the fire illuminates Rollo’s face, entranced by the blaze. Something moves in your chest, and you find yourself scooting closer to him so that you can bask in more of this warmth.

“Magic can be dangerous,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You’re right beside him at this point, your shoulders nearly brushing together. Rollo turns to look at you, his face uncharacteristically gentle. You don’t notice, keeping your gaze on your flame. “And you don’t have to like it. But it can also be beautiful.”

You laugh to yourself, sighing as you lay your head on Rollo’s shoulder. You hope he doesn’t hear how loudly your heart beats. He doesn’t react, but he also doesn’t protest.

“You know, you worried the hell out of me earlier,” you suddenly confess, the flames dancing in your eyes. “I mean, you already do, with your sleeping habits and how much pressure you put on yourself. But today was… Well, it wasn’t our best day.”

“...I’m sorry,” Rollo whispers, and you almost don’t hear it. But it’s genuine, heartfelt, and sincere. You feel an arm wrap around your waist, bringing you closer together.

You smile, relaxing into his hold.

“As long as you’re okay.”

Neither of you acknowledges the position you’re in, nor the intimacy of it. You don’t have to. For now, all you do is rest, and enjoy each other’s touch.

You don’t see it, but eventually, Rollo closes his eyes, and leans his head onto yours.

It’s the most relaxed he’s ever been.

—[5]—

Rollo thinks he’s going to die.

Not literally, of course, but he was pretty close.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing out here, taking a leisurely walk around the city streets with you. He has no idea how you managed to drag him out of his uptight uniform, or how you convinced him to enjoy the snow and the festivities.

He sighs, pulling up his scarf to warm his face. You already made him layer up quite a bit, but just to be safe, you also wrapped that around him to make sure he didn’t accidentally die from touching a snowflake.

He chuckles at the thought, his breath fogging in the cold winter air. The way you constantly fretted over him, overthinking everything and taking care of him… His cheeks warmed at the thought, a fond smile overtaking his lips without him noticing.

“I’m back! God, that line was so long and I swear this lady cut in front of me and I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so badly-”

Speak of the devil, and they shall appear. Rollo’s breath clogs in his throat when you run up to him, two steaming cups of hot chocolate in your hands. He can’t help but think of how cute you were in your winter apparel, all cozy and warm.

He mindlessly tunes out your rantings, only half listening as he simply stares at your lips. Even when he takes one of the cups you offer him, he only watches. Eventually, he sees you running out of air and reaches out, patting your head to shut you up.

“Are you done?” he asks. You huff, sipping your hot chocolate to make yourself feel better - nearly burning yourself in the process.

“Yeah, I’m done,” you giggle, sticking out your tongue to cool it. “Sorry about that.”

“I like hearing you talk,” Rollo assures, effectively flustering you. Reaching out, he lightly tugs your cheek. “And be careful when you drink that. You could’ve burned yourself.”

“But I didn’t,” you mutter, rubbing your cheek with a pout. Rollo raises a brow, but you brush it off. “Anyways, how’s the chocolate?”

“Hot,” Rollo says bluntly, making you snort. “But also sweet.”

“Do you like it?” Rollo nods.

“It’s perfect for a night like this,” he observes, looking out towards the bright lights that litter the snow-covered city.

“Right?” you hum cheerfully, the snow fluttering around you prettily. “Let’s find somewhere to sit.”

The two of you quickly found a bench to seat yourselves on. You lean back onto the wooden chair, happily drinking away at your chocolate. You only stopped when you feel a presence at your shoulder.

Looking up, you let out a sound when you found Rollo’s face mere inches away from yours. Your breath hitched at the sudden proximity as you froze in place, becoming a mere statue.

You only snapped out of your phase when you felt something soft pressing up to the corner of your lips. Rollo dabs at you with one of his many handkerchiefs. The pure concentration on his face only manages to fluster you more until he pulls his hand back, seemingly satisfied with his handiwork.

“You had chocolate on your lips,” he explains, not noticing the way you stare at him, blood rushing to your face.

“...Oh,” you manage out, your voice small.

You can practically feel Rollo’s breath ghosting on your lips. Subconsciously, you held your breath, watching him carefully for his next move. Rollo seemed to have the same idea, uncertainty taking hold of him for the first time.

The two of you waited with bated breath, waiting for the other to take that risk. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared into a flash of white.

But you both hesitated too long.

Rollo jumps as something tugs on his coat, effectively breaking the spell. He looks down to see one of the city goats staring up at him cutely, bleating for his attention. Begrudgingly, he sighs and reaches down to pet it.

The goat unfortunately uses that to jump on him. It attempts a bite at his cup, but thankfully, Rollo has quicker reflexes than one would think. His height also means that he’s able to hold the cup far out of the goat’s reach.

“No, you don’t,” he grits out, the goat’s weight heavy on him. “You can’t eat chocolate, fool.”

Something about Rollo unironically calling a goat a fool was just too ridiculous for you.

You break out laughing, your eyes crinkling. Rollo’s chest constricts at the sight, his arm relaxing for a second as he stares at you in awe - barely noticing when the goat tries again for his cup.

There are few things that he could call precious. But your smile, this moment, your laughter… He would say that they were the brightest treasures in the world.

—[ + 1 ]—

Rollo isn’t stupid.

He isn’t oblivious.

He knows the way he feels isn’t normal. He knows the way he wants you, craves you, needs you, is anything but. He always knew.

But what sets it in for him, is when he sees those couples in the streets of the city. When he sees those loving gazes towards one another, the way they hold hands, and how comfortable they are with each other, he’s no longer filled with indifferent disgust.

Rather, he wonders how it would feel to do that with you.

What would it be like, to be able to hold you and call you his own?

He’s wondered for a while. When you cup his hands in your own, he relishes in your warmth, but finds himself wanting more. When you look at him, he becomes lost in your eyes. When you smile, he sees your lips, wondering how they’d feel pressed up against his.

It’s a strange thing for him, to want something so badly.

So when he finds himself nestled in your arms, finally resting, he’s conflicted.

With his head laying gently on your chest, he practically melts into your hold. Your fingers thread through his hair, softly petting and massaging his scalp as you do. His eyes are closed, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist.

He's able to let go with you. He allows himself this small moment of vulnerability. He lets you hold him, finding redamancy in your touch. For in your arms, he is safe - this is his home.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice muffled by your clothes. You hum, playing with his hair.

"Of course," you shift the delicate locks between your fingers. "That's what friends are for."

Friends. He finds that the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Friends, yes, that was what you were. A month or two ago, he would've been fine, delighted even, to be called such a thing.

But is it so wrong to be longing for something more?

You must've felt him stiffen, as you look down at him in concern.

"You okay, Rollo?"

He really isn't. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he raises his head to look at you.

Your hand falls from his hair to cradle his face, your thumb tenderly swiping over his cheek. Rollo closes his eyes in contentment, nuzzling into your palm - almost like a kitten, you'd comment later.

"You're unfair," he mumbles, peering at you once again. You tilt your head, prompting him to continue. He reaches up, covering your hand with his own. "You dare to hold me like this, and yet you still only call me 'friend'."

You hum, looking away bashfully. "I was afraid to call you something else."

"You were afraid of nothing." Rollo lifts his head, moving your hand so that he could press a kiss to your palm. His eyes stayed trained on yours, waiting to see any reaction - as if he was asking for permission.

The look you give him is nothing short of loving. It's what pushes him to test the boundaries even further, to push himself up. You look up at him with hidden intrigue, knowing, and even anticipation - as if you knew just what was coming ahead.

Rollo lets go of your hand, taking a hold of your chin instead, tilting it up to face him. His eyes search yours carefully, still hesitant even now.

You nod your head, silently giving your approval. Your words have lost you, unable to make it past the lump in your throat.

Rollo leans forward, close enough so that your noses brush against each other. Taking one last breath, he takes the dive, closing his eyes and gently pressing his lips to yours.

Instantly, your eyes shut as if falling into a trance. Your hand trails up to the back of his head, holding him there as the other reaches to wrap around his waist - bringing him impossibly closer.

It’s over before you know it. When Rollo finally pulls away, you instinctively follow, chasing him. It’s only when Rollo lightly pushes you back that you peek your eyes open.

In the swirling forest of his eyes, you see amusement, adoration, and most importantly, gratitude.

Not a word is spoken when Rollo falls back into your arms, and you are there to welcome him, as you always have.

[officialdaydreamer00]

House fire

ROLLO FLAMME — in which one can predict a student exchange program might go south real quick

COLLAB WORK with @unfictinalnightmare for [The chimes of comfort]

CONTENT — takes place after glorious masquerade, our yuusonas (hillary and irene) are yuu, silly shenanigans with hillary and irene, rollo will show up soon :)

TAGGINGS — @cloudcountry @identity-theft-101 @xen-blank @esmerulia-chantelle @dove-da-birb @cookiesandbiscuits @vioisgoinginsane @siren-serenity @loser-jpg @axvwriter @aqua-beam @edith-is-a-cat @minimallyminnie @thehollowwriter @taruruchi @cyanide-latte + others :3

Do reblog or comment if you enjoy my work! ^-^

Chapter 1: An undeniable request || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6

"WHAT?!"

"As I have just said, I want the two of you to act as our representatives when Mr. Flamme arrive to Night Raven College in the next student exchange."

The headmage offered the two girls in front of them a smile. Black and white, blood red and sea green, both were staring at their 'beloved' headmage with a look of utter disdain.

"Wait, pause- Who the hell is Flamme?" Hillary gave the girl next to her a confused glance before averting her eyes back to the headmage. Irene only sighed, taking off her round glasses as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Rollo Flamme, Noble Bell's rep and School Council President, he was our guide in Fleur City."

Irene was still haunted by that incident in Fleur City. She thought it was a rare occasion to relax after weeks and months of doing errands for the damn crow, but no. Seven knew he was plotting such a devious scheme.

"Indeed, ahem... Since the student body were rather, well, hesitant when speaking about him, so I believe you two are the best option as his guide in the upcoming exchange program." Crowley said joyfully. "Oh, and by the way, Mr Flamme shall stay at Ramshackle Dorm in the short duration of the program, I truly hope the two of you can do your best to accommodate him."

The headmage went on and on with his monologue, ignoring every signs of refusals from Hillary and Irene.

With Irene and her unforgettable experience in Noble Bell College, she was rather afraid of Rollo still. Who knows what could happen during the entire program when he faced NRC's students, especially her upperclassman Malleus. It would be one hell of a meeting, and like hell she wanted to be the one cleaning it up for the nth time.

With Hillary, who wasn't on the list of students on that trip to Fleur City, her impression about Rollo was practically zero. And it wasn't like she could ask Irene or the others since they wouldn't peep a single word. Though perhaps that was enough signs to guess this Flamme guy was anything but a saint.

———————————————————

"I refuse."

Hillary immediately shook her head, cutting off Crowley's ramblings as he squawked in surprise. Not like he could force her to do his biddings anyways.

"I also refuse."

Irene followed her lead and answered as well, seeing how Hillary gave both of them a way out. It wouldn't hurt to work with that troublesome girl if it meant one less baggage on her shoulders.

"Oh no... Why must you two treat me, the kindest and most beloved headmage, that way? What a hurtful thing to hear from the Prefects themselves..."

Hillary and Irene could only watched in exasperation as the headmage blabbed on about his so-called kindness and hard work. However, the headmage was never an easy person to deal with, he gave them an unreadable smile.

"Nevertheless, as a careful teacher I am, I have come prepared! So I am counting on you two, Trein-sensei, Crewel-sensei."

———————————————————

Only after one long session of persuation from two most respected professors on campus, using various tricks and techniques, did Hillary and Irene agree to it, albeit reluctantly. Though it was a golden opportunity for them to upgrade Ramshackle dorm even more. They couldn't let that infuriating headmage win that easily.

"Fine. I promise to lend you some ingredients for your magic research." Crewel shook his head and sighed, looking at Irene with a tired stare.

The little dark pup excelled at everything and destroy every challenges thrown her way, which he was proud of as a Professor. Only that she was so damn stubborn and had a penchant for dark magic.

"Thank you, sir!" Irene smiled as she happily accepted the deal, thinking about all the things she could get from the Potions professor's laboratory.

However, if Irene was already headstrong, Hillary was completely, utterly a hardhead. Trein and Crowley even had to use the library key and give her free reign to it for her to agree.

And so the preparation the student exchange program began...

[todaysdocument]

Joint Resolution of June 14, 1954, Public Law 83-396, 68 STAT 249, to Amend the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America

Record Group 11: General Records of the United States GovernmentSeries: Enrolled Acts and Resolutions of Congress

THE WHITE HOUSE [STAMPED ON LEFT MARGIN]

[THE REST OF THE STAMP IS CUT OFF]

GENERAL SERVICES ADMINISTRATION [STAMPED ON RIGHT MARGIN]

RECEIVED [STAMPED ON RIGHT MARGIN]

JUN 14 1954 [STAMPED ON RIGHT MARGIN]

NARS [STAMPED ON RIGHT MARGIN]

FEDERAL REGISTER DIVISON [STAMPED ON RIGHT MARGIN]

PUBLIC LAW [STAMPED] 396 [HANDWRITTEN]

CHAPTER [STAMPED] 297 [HANDWRITTEN]

H. J. Res. 243

Eighty-third Congress of the United States of America [centered]

AT THE SECOND SESSION [CENTERED]

Begun and held at the CIty of Washington on Wednesday, the sixth day of January, [centered]

one thousand nine hundred and fifty-four [centered]

Joint Resolution [centered]

To amend the pledge of allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United

States of America in Congress assembled, That section 7 of the joint

resolution entitled "Joint resolution to codify and emphasize existing

rules and customs pertaining to the display and use of the flag of the

United States of America", approved June 22, 1942, as amended (36

U.S.C. sec. 172), is amended to read as follows:

"SEC. 7. The following is designated as the pledge of allegiance to

the flag: 'I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of

America and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under

God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all'. Such pledge should

be rendered by standing with the right hand over the heart. However,

civilians will always show repsect to the flag when the pledge

is given by merely standing at attention, men removing the headdress.

Persons in uniform shall render the military salute."

Joseph W. Martin Jr. [signature]

Speaker of the House of Representatives

Styles Bridges [signature]

President of the Senate. [typeset] pro Tempore [handwritten]

APPROVED [STAMPED]

JUN 14 1954 [STAMPED]

Dwight D. Eisenhower [signature]

[atinystraynstay]

Our Story Won't End - Lee Felix

Synopsis: "I refuse to give up on us." Pairing: College Student!Lee Felix x fem. reader

Genre: Angst. Established relationships, arguing with one another, fighting for one another with one another.

Word Count: 2.8k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Felix re-read your text message to him over and over again. How could he be so ignorant? It felt like he had the opportunity of a lifetime, but he had just wasted it.

He had to make things right.

Last night, Felix took you out on a date. A first date, to be exact. Everyone had been waiting for the moment where he finally confessed his feelings to you. I mean, everyone seemed to see there was a connection between the two of you besides the two of you. For him, he just had to build up his own courage to believe you were were interested in him.

The two of you met through Hyunjin, who shared an Art History seminar with you. One day, when Felix was waiting for Hyunjin to get out of class, he saw you emerge from the building. Instantly, Felix had to find out your name.

Just finding out who you were led to this beautiful friendship. But the friendship slowly was beginning to transform to mutual pining. You had always found Felix attractive. The first thing you noticed about him was his freckles, which looked like as if they were kisses from angels across his cheeks. And he noticed your bright smile. You had the ability to light up whatever room you stepped into, capturing everyone's attention.

That sheer observation made it more urgent Felix makes a move before someone decided to come along and sweep you off your feet first. He at least wanted the opportunity to prove his capability of being the man you needed.

Your friends and Felix's had taken it upon themselves to get you two together, one way or another. It had been a struggle for a few weeks, but eventually, Felix got the bravery to finally ask you out.

He had anticipated this date for a week and a half. The only reason why the date was pushed back so far was due to midterms. He completely understood as he had his own papers and projects to turn in. Any amount of time would be worth it to finally get some one-on-one time with you.

He promised to take you out to a nice dinner in town followed by a walk along one of the bridges connecting downtown to another part of the city. It had a breathtaking view of the city. A hopeless romantic, he knew the view wouldn't compare to you though. All he wanted was to bring you somewhere to show you off and wow you. Word had traveled from Hyunjin that you were growing frustrated with dating, the lack of effort people were putting into planning dates.

Felix saw the challenge and wanted to beat it. The ultimate victory would be claiming you as his.

However, the date itself was a recipe for disaster.

First of all, it started raining that afternoon and wasn't forecasted to lighten up until the next day. There was no way that Felix would postpone the day, not when you both had been counting the days. Adding an extra day seemed torturous to the both of you. He promised that he would come up with an alternate plan for the bridge after dinner, something that would keep the night going and keep you both wet and warm.

That part at least was out of his control. Everything else that proceeds unfortunately was caused by him.

Changbin and Minho had came home from an early afternoon gym session, their own way to combat the dreary afternoon. After every gym session resulted in a feast by the two. Mainly by Minho because Changbin most likely would cause a fire. Felix decided to join in and enjoy the meal with his two friends.

He wasn't going to pick you up until 6pm. He would be fine. Besides, if he ate now, he wouldn't overstuff himself at dinner.

A full stomach led to a sleepy Felix. And his bed seemed so tempting. A quick nap wouldn't harm. He would be able to stay out all night, if you wanted.

However, Felix missed a key detail. He never set his alarm or asked any of his housemates to wake him up, so he had ample time to get ready for the date.

5 Missed Texts from y/n 1 Missed Call from y/n

Felix jolted awake from the feeling of vibrations against his bed. He looked down to se you had attempted to call him, and now you were in the process of leaving a voicemail. What is going on? Is she okay?

Seeing the time flash on his phone, his eyes widened and heart dropped. 5:45pm. Fuck.

Quickly, he began to frantically text you.

"Hey sweet girl, I'm sorry. I took a nap 🥲 Let me hop in the shower and I'll be over"

What crushed Felix the most was that you texted back almost instantly. He wouldn't be surprised if you cancelled the date. Not when he treated it like it was nothing by foolishly taking a nap.

"No worries! Just text me when you're heading over"

God, he didn't deserve you.

By the time Felix showered, got dressed, and was ready to go, it was 6:20pm. Probably the fastest shower he's ever taken but still didn't feel fast enough considering you were waiting on him.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be on your date?" Chan asked him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Felix muttered back.

He had no time in side conversations as he was late as it is. Chan, sensing the irritation of the young man, put his hands up in defense and walked away. Felix hated being short with people, not wanting to be rude or inconsiderate. He was definitely getting inside his own head for being so irresponsible.

"heading over right now" "ok! drive safe and text me when you are here 🩷"

At least you didn't seem too mad at him.

Felix rushed out to his car in lightening speed. It was moments like this when he wished superpowers weren't fictional. If he could, he would snap his fingers and already arrive at your doorstep. Anything to cut down on the time you were waiting for him.

The drive was quite smooth considering how much it was rain. Puddles were already starting to gather on the roads. Of course, Felix wasn't driving recklessly despite the pressure he was facing. He was trying to remain as cool and collected, especially as people tend to drive unpredictable when there were hazardous conditions. The last thing Felix wanted was to cause a bigger mess by letting his frustrations get the best of him.

It was while driving he began to realize just how full he was. Maybe the rushing around to get ready or sleeping on his stomach upset his stomach. What he did know was that he couldn't sit down for a full meal as he promised to you. "Shit," he sighed. You had been so understanding so far. He was sure you'd get it.

The GPS was guiding Felix to your apartment. Every now and then, he would glance to make sure he was heading in the right direction. Once he saw he arrived, he turned it off to begin to hunt down for a parking spot. There were times Felix was grateful for having a car, as it helped him get around easily around the city. Yet, moments like this, when there seems to be no available parking made him wish he didn't drive.

The only available parking spot was about a block and a half away from your apartment. It was still raining, but nothing as crazy as it was when he left his own apartment.

"hey! just arrived" "oh perfect, I'll head down. see you soon!"

His heart fluttered at your text messages. The date had started on a rough start considering he was late, but he was determined to make sure it was still a good date. One that at least would land him a second date where he could really win you over.

Turning off the ignition, he stepped out of the car. However, he was immediately met by a car splashing water on him as they sped by.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

How can this get any worse?

Buzz buzz

He glanced down to see your name flash on the screen. He tried his best to let the anger subside before picking up the phone. Not exactly the best tone to start off the evening.

"Hello?" "Hey! I don't see you."

Felix's eyebrows furrowed together and he frowned. He glanced around his surroundings as he stood on the sidewalk. What? Did he put in the wrong address?

"Are you positive? I'm like across the street from you."

There was a pause. Maybe you were checking your surroundings? Maybe you didn't quite catch him the first time because of the passing traffic?

"Yeah, Lix, I'm positive. Are you on Oakwood?"

Oakwood Avenue? Felix was about to respond but he glanced up at the light post at the corner of the sidewalk. He squinted his eyes to see the green street sign to indicate where he was. Instantly, his confidence flattened.

Gates Street.

"Oh y/n, I'm sorry. I'm on Gates." Felix began to look around to try to figure out which way he should walk, so he could get to you. What an impression he was making, huh?

"Don't worry, Felix! I can start walking in that direction. You're about one block away from me. I'll start walking right now." "Ok."

Felix hung up first before sliding his phone away in the pocket of his rain jacket. The bottom half of him was still soaked from being splashed, including his shoes and socks. This was just a disaster. The only saving grace was that he was finally going to be able to see you.

That was why Felix remained where he was. If it was anyone else, he would have just turned on his heels back to his car and head home. He couldn't do that to you, not when he kept you waiting both for the day of the date but for himself. He had to try to salvage the rest of the evening.

From a distance, Felix saw you approaching him. His eyes widened to see how you were dressed. Even despite the rain, you went above and beyond. For him. You were wearing a black silk skirt with white tennis shoes, a mix of different styles but still spoke true to your personality. You also wore a black ribbed shirt underneath your pink rain jacket. You had your hair down in your natural hair. Felix always loved how your hair looked. He wanted so desperately to drive his fingers through it. He also took note of the gold earrings you wore. You looked heavenly.

And it made him feel like absolute shit. The fact he was dripping wet didn't hide his outfit choice. He wore a simple pair of jeans, a black hoodie, and black sneakers. It was almost as if he just picked whatever clothes he thought were clean.

"Hi Felix," you greeted him, a wide smile on your face. "Hi y/n," he smiled weakly.

Not much was exchanging between the two of you. Felix did open the passenger door for you, to help you in. He quickly jogged around to the driver side before slipping in. One of the things you adored about Felix was his bubbly personality. He was the definition of sunshine. Unfortunately, it seemed like the sunshine was being blocked out by the rain.

"So I was thinking maybe we can go out to eat and just sit by the bridge? I know it's not the same as walking it, but I figured we could still go see it?" "Oh yeah, that sounds great! Are we still doing korean barbecue?"

Felix's stomach churned at the thought of eating that much food. He quickly shook his head as he buckled himself into the seat. You couldn't help bur frown. You had been looking forward to going to the restaurant since he proposed the idea when he asked you out.

"I'm sorry, y/n. My stomach hurts a bit. Why don't we just do drive thru so we can eat in the car and not get wet anymore?"

Trying to be optimistic, you nodded your head. You kept a gentle smile on your face. You were still getting the chance to spend time with Felix. He at least still showed up for the date. It was something better than nothing.

"Yeah, Felix, that sounds good." "McDonalds?"

Maybe you spoke too soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Staring at the text you sent Felix, you let an exasperated sigh. You really wanted things to work out with Felix. He seemed like a genuine guy, someone down to earth and unafraid to express himself. You needed a change from the typical guy you go for. And Hyunjin hyped up what a great guy Felix was.

And it was evident from how much Felix texted you. You had been under the impression that he was into you, especially with how detailed he was about your plans for the first date. You had gotten so excited just for it to burst.

You tried your damn best to be understanding. Things change, and dating in college doesn't always mean you have to have the most romantic first dates. You had just be hyped up to expect more to be left with next to nothing.

Part of you was also upset just that he seemed not to care when he met up with you in person. He seemed to say all the right things to lure you in, and maybe he assumed he didn't need to impress you? That you were already his?

If that's the case, you didn't want to be a part of it. You wanted someone who was going to put in effort, just as you did. Or at least as much as they could. You realized that putting 100% effort is an unrealistic ask, but you at least wanted someone to communicate with you. You just couldn't shake off that Felix seemed to be in such a sour mood throughout most of the date.

Did he really not want to be with you? Did he only go out with you because you knew Hyunjin? It just left you feeling shitty.

Knock knock

You looked up from your phone, which laid on your comforter, to look towards your bedroom door. Your roommate was peaking her head in with a soft smile. You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and match her smile.

"What did you do?" You playfully asked. "I didn't do anything. All I'm saying is that you might want to come downstairs."

And just like that, she slipped away. Your curiosity was peaked, so you had to go investigate. Slowly, you pushed yourself off the bed to go venture downstairs.

"Hi y/n."

That voice. Your eyes looked down the staircase to see Felix standing at the front of the door. He had an apologetic smile on his face as he stood within the threshold. There was a bouquet of flowers in his hand with a small plastic container of brownies, or at least that's what you believed from the distance.

"Oh, hi Felix. I guess this is why you left me on open," you laughed awkwardly.

He shared in that awkward laughter. You couldn't deny that your heart swelled that he still showed up at the door, but why was he here?

"Y/n, I know I don't deserve a second chance. I really fucked up our first date. Literally has to go down in history as the worst first date of all time."

Well, there is no arguing with that. Yet, you still were willing to hear him out. You made your way down the staircase until you reached the foyer, only a few feet away from him now. Up close, you could see more of the freckles that made you weak in the knees.

"I've been waiting for the chance to take you out, to treat you special and I failed. Of course, getting to see you was amazing. You're even more incredible than Hyunjin described. I owe you a massive apology for wasting your time and treating you poorly. If you could, I would love a chance to make things right."

"Brownies are a good start," you said.

His eyes widened slowly, registering what you just said to him. "Really?" he whispered.

You couldn't help but giggle, genuinely this time. You nodded your head as you stepped closer to him, taking the flowers into your arms. "Come on, we can go to the kitchen. I can make some tea or something. Maybe we can watch a movie and eat these brownies?" You suggested.

This definitely was the second chance Felix prayed for.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately based on a real date I had this past weekend just with an alternative ending that I would've liked. Essentially had to end things with a cute guy for putting in very little effort 😅

Dating in yours 20s is definitely an *experience* let me just say that

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: my fav little hater was upset about my post getting interactions again so they flagged it to be incorrectly labeled, meaning it's hidden from the majority of people so repost time! there is no mature content in this chapter, suck it. based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your back and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no cool air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again.He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred–with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through the wall. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick.