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#We shall have to talk more I shall get your schedule!
senseichaos · 3 months
Note
long time listener, first time caller
saw the piss thing and… do you do pissing inside? alastor cockwarming on the radio show, having to let out some tension, not wanting to get up and move to do it… maybe even lucifer on his thrown… just a thought 🫣
this is so good! Thank you for the req!
IMAGINE
(ik I use this gif all the time.. leave me alone)
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PISS WARNING ⚠️
Sometimes when Alastor does his radio show, having you nestled on his cock is the best to get out his most confident work. And he loves the way you squirm. He'd always end up having to use his tentacles or some sort of magic restraint to refrain you from moving.
This time around however, he had forgotten to do one of the most important things before sitting you on his cock.
Go to the toilet.
It wasn't a big deal, really. He could probably hold it, and he didn't need to go that badly. However as he was talking about some recent news in hell, an idea popped into his tar black mind.
"And we have some acid rain scheduled for this afternoon! Make sure you get inside, or the cannibals will eat your body after it's rotted in the rain. Or I may eat you myself! I have been hankering for some sinner meat recently.." Alastor says, reciting the last thing on his news list for the broadcast.
"Any how, let's get some music playing shall we?" Alastor says the name and creator of the song before tuning his voice out, turning off his mic so he can organize the next part of his script.
Yet as he moves, he can't help but feel his bladder clench.
"Ngh.. Alastor, how much longer..?" You ask with a pathetic whimper, trying to wiggle your hips. Alastor's tentacles tighten around your thighs as this, ensuring you won't try to shift again.
Chuckling, Alastor smooths your hair back, giving you a dark look that causes goosebumps across your bare skin.
"Hm, well I do have to urinate..." He says, looking off into the distance in a sort of thoughtful way. Your face brightens, thinking he may end his show early and go to the bathroom... Then he'd fuck you silly, just how you like it.
"Really? Well then end the show!" You say, tugging on his coat. Though Alastor captures your wrists, placing them onto his shoulders.
"Now now, that wasn't what I was implying at all, fawn,"
Your eyes widen.
"Huh?"
"Stay still for me, hm?"
He presses his hands to your hips, pushing them down so your body's are completely connected at his cock. You shriek to yourself, realizing what he's about to do. Now you weren't going to object, no no, in your own way you were more excited than anything.
"Ah!"
Before you know it, with a sadistic gaze Alastor begins releasing his piss into your hole. You cry out, clasping your hands over your mouth as you lean back against the end of his desk. You can feel it all, warm and hot as it fills you to the brim. It tickles you in ways you can hardly imagine, making you see a myriad of twinkling stars as the liquid starts to seep from your full cunt.
And it just keeps coming, his cock twitching inside of you as it releases its last few spurts of urine into you. Alastor's pants are warm and soaked with his piss, but he doesn't make a move to take you off of his cock. Instead he just keeps you there, continuing his radio show whilst pretending that nothing happened at all.
"Alastor," you begin as he puts on another song. He hums in response. "You're all soaked.." You whine, pressing your hands to his soft and slimy tentacles.
He chuckles, pinching your cheek and watching you flinch. "Just how I like it, dirty. Now hush or I won't fornicate this full cunt with my seed, hm?"
You obey without a thought.
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r4izx · 3 months
Text
Worth more than what you take me for.
ayato x gn!reader
summary: in which he had to choose between two people including you, in a life and death situation.
disclaimers: swearing (there's like one lol), kidnapping, ooc traveler.
4,032 words and 21,895 characters.
a/n: dayum. this took a while and i did not expect to write this much.
you've known ayato since childhood. your parents has been serving their clan for generations, being one of their most trusted allies. and you're no exception.
growing up with people with high authorities was such a privilege. you remember when you first met lord ayato and lady ayaka. they both were very the same yet so different. so elegant, disciplined and was well mature for their age. you felt some kind of barrier between you and the siblings but they turned out just as kind as they look. they were easy to converse with. naturally, after some time of serving them, you would have gotten closer. and in fact, you did. although you thought, you and ayato's relationship was... rather special.
for some reason, ayato treats you very differently compared to others. not in a bad way. he often calls you to his workplace, make you sit there and drink tea with him. he takes you out to go eat dinner at uyuu restaurant when you both have finished work. he requested you to be his personal assistant while ayaka had thoma. and because of this, you get to spend more time with him than anyone else. at the beginning, you always thought ayato would be a cold and strict person. but it turns out to be quite the opposite. okay- maybe he is more quiet and colder than others, but that's towards other people. especially to those he only has business with.
ayato is surprisingly different to what you originally thought. he would try to match your humor, often speaking informally like the way you would around your closest friends just to match with you. lately he's been spending his free time with you too. he noticed you liked tea a lot, much like him. so both of you had made it a habit to have tea at the estate's balcony while the sun is going down. watching the sunset together. it felt really romantic for you- but you quickly shook your head and remembered that to him- you're just his work partner. but is that really the case for him? because he was much more observant than you thought. especially about you. he notices any slight change in the mood with you. so there was a particular day when you were gloomy because of being so tired. but he noticed this immediately.
"Shall we take a break?"
-- and you don't know why but your heart skipped a beat when he said that. you thought it was funny-- how he would do all of this for you. and at times like these, you start to feel like a special person to him. just because he always relies on you compared to others. you thought you were special to him. until she came.
who is she? she looks so... bold and pretty. just one look at her and you can already tell she has a strong personality but has a gentle aura. her blonde hair swaying so glamorously in the wind. her otherworldly clothes making her stand out among people. the way she moves makes it embarrassing to stand beside her. she seems so... perfect in everyone's eyes. unfortunately, that includes ayato's. you don't remember having a guest in ayato's schedule when you were fixing it, so why's she here?
you found out the answer really quickly. everyone at the estate has been talking about her and... ayato lately. you don't know why though, which is weird- because as his assistant you should be the first to know about things regarding him. it's even weirder that ayato had not summoned you after work has ended. 'is this where our afternoon tea sessions end?' you thought to yourself. so you found it upon yourself to just be straightforward and ask others what's the gossip all about. luckily, there was another servant nearby. she quickly leaned closer to you and whispered.
"h-haven't you heard?... it seems that lord ayato had taken a liking to lady ayaka's guest."
you were surprised. really. it wasn't even his guest yet he bothered to entertain her. just who is she?
"who-... who is her lady's guest?" you nervously questioned.
"I heard it was... the traveler? was it? lord ayato visited her personally! they're just so perfect with eachother!- i can't help it." the servant squeals in excitement, contrary to your look in horror. you try not to make it obvious though. but you shouldn't even be feeling this way. why does it hurt? there's a sharp feeling on your chest that you just can't get out of. it just hurts to know the reason why he stopped your afternoon tea sessions, dinner hangouts, or just even talking with eachother is because of another girl! you were in no place to get frustrated since you were just a servant. nothing more, nothing less. to him.
you only see him through work now. the urge to invite him to a tea break and have a conversation with him while watching the sunset is getting stronger everyday. and who are you to resist?
"lord ayato... wou-" before you could even finish your sentence, he stopped you. your heart was beating so fast. 'oh no. did I do something wrong?' thoughts like these were circling through your mind.
"i told you to just call me 'ayato' y/n"
--and he chuckles a bit at the end. and so do you. you felt so... relieved. your worries instantly washed away. you felt at ease knowing that you are special to him. i mean- he doesn't do this with others does he?
"ah- my bad... but as I was saying, would you like to have some afternoon tea break with me? I mean, we used to do that everyday but it has been a while since we last did soo..."
and at this point you were so sure he wouldn't decline. he's been less busy this week, what could he possibly do that's far too important to even refu-
"my apologies, y/n. i've already scheduled a tea break with someone else this afternoon. maybe next time if i have the time. i promise i'll make it up to you. however, you could accompany us if you would like." and your mind. empty. the world seems like it stopped for you. not only was your only time to hang out with him gone but you were also replaced. all this time... he was with someone else. you had a gut feeling of who that someone else might be. but you couldn't hold a grudge, you have no right to.
"i-... i look forward to it." nope. you absolutely don't, look forward to it. that day will eventually come though. you just didn't expect it to come, three days later. how quick. you were filled with mixed of different emotions. you hate to admit it- but... you are jealous of who this person might be. but at the same time you're glad to just see ayato again! sadly, for work. when he summoned you, you thought-- 'oh is this finally it? will we finally hang out together again?' until you realize it's just that you will just accompany him to go to a somewhat date with someone else. compared to you and ayato just drinking tea at the estate's balcony, he had prepared so much as to have tea and snacks at the shore. alas, you could finally meet this person. once again. as you realize it was her. the traveler.
"traveler, did you wait long? i'm sorry, you could've ju..."
and their conversation went deaf on your ears. the ayato kamisato. speaking informally, and giving out tea invitations to the traveler. when it used to be you... why are you feeling like this? isn't it obvious. the traveler is way prettier, stronger and better than you. comparing yourself to the traveler is already such an embarrassing thing to do. no one could compare to her. she's out there defeating monsters and fighting archons. while you're here holding a grudge on a person who doesn't even know you just because you're jealous you were easily replaced. but who were you to be replaced when you weren't even his to begin with. this is why you feel guilty. because you think that you have no right to feel this way. it's just now that you realize how much of an overthinker you are. however your thoughts were cut short when you hear ayato calling out your name.
"y/n, i'll go to to the comfort room for a bit. please entertain the traveler while i'm away."
he says.
"understood." and so you take a seat at ayato's chair before. and despite not wanting to have a talk with the traveler, it is still your duty and you would not abandon it for just some mere feelings.
"greetings, i'm y/n. it's a pleasure to meet you traveler." you bow slightly and give the smile you usually show to guests. a smile you practiced countless of times infront of a mirror. "you might have not heard about me though. so allow me t-"
"oh i know. you're ayato's personal assistant. he mentioned it to me before." the traveler states. and you were genuinely shocked but also... curious.
"is that so?... then, has he said any other things about me before?" you nervously asked. though the nervously part may not be obvious to others. the traveler sees right through this. and she giggles. but nods. "would you mind serving me some tea? the tea ayato has been serving me is delicious however i've tasted it countless of times from our past tea parties. so I would like to have a different flavor this time."
the word 'countless' implies that they have been doing this for a while now and you already know that. but it still stirs a feeling of jealousy inside you.
"of course. luckily i brought a different tea flavor for myself as well. let me go get the ingredients from my bag." you return after brewing the tea and pouring it into the cups. how thoughtful that the traveler had already prepared the cups for you.
"this tastes a lot like lavender... melon." the traveler says.
"hm. because it is. you have a great sense of taste." you reply. from this point and so on, you don't really know what to talk about. the atmosphere is really awkward. but you still try to strike up a conversation because she is a guest.
"s-so... what brings you here to the kamisato estate?" you ask. in which the traveler replied with "originally, ayaka invited me. and ayato next." you don't know if it's just your eyes playing tricks on you or did the corner of her mouth raise upwards for a bit. you brush it off. maybe the grudge you have on her is going too far. i mean, it's not like you hate her though. but it's also not like you like her.
by now you've almost finished your tea. same goes for the traveler. you only had to endure a little bit more of this atmosphere and her because ayato should be back soon. so you lowered your guard and relaxed a bit. this whole time you only stared at your teacup, but it wouldn't hurt to take a glimpse at the traveler right? so slowly but hesitantly, you lift your eyes up to see her. already staring at you. but you couldn't break away from the eye contact. especially because she just asked you something you're also asking yourself.
"y/n. tell me. do you like ayato?"
despite having a smile on her face as she asked this, her tone was rather cold. it sent shivers down your spine. you don't know why she's asking this. but you also don't know the answer to that question.
...do you like ayato?
"I'm..."
that was the last thing you said before you went unconscious. before that, your vision went blurry and your head was getting dizzy. how could this be? all the years you've spent serving the kamisato clan, this has never happened.
a loud ringing on your ears forced you to wake up, you could hear numerous voices as you slowly opened your eyes. your vision was still blurry but you could figure out that someone was huge was standing before you.
"it's awake."
'it's? what do these people take me for'. --is what you would have thought when you realized you've been kidnapped and the kidnappers are a group of nobushis. you look at your surroundings, counting just how many they are until you finally notice someone beside you. the traveler. she's still unconscious. looking at her made you realize that you're also tied up and is unable to speak. screaming is no use. you seem to be in a... cave? you're not so sure because you don't remember a cave this huge at inazuma. you try to recall what happened and why you ended up here until you heard something a nobushi said.
"ya think he's coming here?"
"i heard he fancies these two. of course he will."
he? who's he? considering they kidnapped you and the traveler, don't tell me they're talking about him. not lord aya--
"oh well look who's here."
your eyes widen in shock when you turn to the direction they're facing. he's standing right there. ayato kamisato has come to save you. ...and the traveler. something moves beside you and you see the traveler, already awake, with tears in her eyes. isn't the traveler supposed to be strong and mighty? you don't understand, how were they able to kidnap her. in what situation was she in for her to become so vulnerable and be captured? i mean before all of this she was only with you-- !! your eyes widen. you saw ayato, ...glaring at you.
why was he glaring? you were in a pitiful situation right now, yet he glares at you as if you commited a crime. you can't believe it but... 'don't tell me thinks... i poisoned the traveler.' archons. he definitely thinks just that. the way his eyes softens as he looks to the girl beside you confirms so.
"give us the document. maybe we'll let both of them go." one of the nobushis spoke up. documents? what documents are they talking about? you handle all the documents for ayato, could it be he's been keeping something from you? are they comparing lives to a piece of document? surely ayato would-
"no. ...who sent you?" his voice cold as ice. the world has been surprising you a lot today. how important could that document be for it to be able to compare to a person's life. "straightforward i see... too bad, if you don't give us the documents any time we'll kill both of your precious little friends and this place will blow up soon." one of the nobushis spoke up again, it was the same guy as earlier. normally, ayato would be able to beat a few nobushis on his own. but he's way outnumbered right now. for some reason he knows that you and the traveler was taken here, yet he still came alone. you look beside you and see that the traveler is now crying. compared to the mighty traveler you seem to be too calm. you shouldn't be, in a situation like this. is it because ayato is now here? although he probably hates your guts already. but you just trust him way too much.
"...not giving in eh? then let's see..."
the nobushi paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about another way to make ayato give in and for them to gain something out of him. the nobushi smirked.
"...if you give us some mora... we'll let ya choose one of them to go with. give us the documents, you all can go home safe and sound. give us none and... you'll die with them." and finally, you felt... fear. your heart was racing. you didn't know it was this bad. earlier you already knew that you're this close to death's door but you weren't panicking at all. you also don't mind dying if it was for ayato. from an early age you already knew that you had to serve and protect their clan no matter what-- even if you have to pay the price of your own life. so why panic now? is it because the nobushis are going to far with their negotiations? is it because you're knocking right at death's door? or maybe it's because you're afraid that ayato will abandon you. choosing someone else, right infront of you in a critical situation like this. but surely he wouldn't, right?
" ...traveler," he throws a pouch of mora to the ground towards the nobushis. you remember when you both were strolling around at inazuma city after dinner. when he mentions that ever since he saw you looking through the stalls but not buying anything, he figured he'd buy them for you. so he always carried a pouch of mora. for you... and not for anyone el-
".. let's go." what? are you hearing things right? but judging by the way they pull the traveler and untie her, it seems that you are. but you wish you weren't. it turns out he really would choose someone else. the traveler lunges to embrace ayato. seeing ayato slowly hug her back, patting her back to calm down her tears and letting her cry on his shoulder just made your broken heart break even further. you get it. with the traveler's back facing you as they embrace, you take a glimpse of ayato until his gaze lands on you.
" ...y/n..."
his tone was somewhat... soft. you assume on a lot of things and right now you don't wanna expect but, you are. is this his last words to me? is he telling me he's sorry? is he gonna tell me how he regrets doing this? and that he never really wanted this to happen? and that i'm someone special to him, viewing me more than just a serv-
" --how dare you."
...and his gaze turns dark. what for? you didn't even do anything. his eyes glares at you as if you both were never friends. or maybe you were never really a friend to him. and he always thought of you as a mere servant. just like the rest. you were just- too naive. so foolish. thinking you were special. special just because he went looking for you and bought medicine and special rare tea in a day when you were sick for work. special cause he always invited you for tea breaks, conversing with you and only you. special because he always relies on you, and you allowed yourself to be relied on, --when you had no one to rely on for yourself. was those years of being with him nothing for him? was it that worthless in his eyes? that you could just be replaced and abandoned any time? you thought you were someone special in his life when he treated you differently compared to others.
but what about the way you treat him?
you treat him as if you were nothing without him. because he was everything to you. you were only this happy with him. only him. if you think of the most memorable memory you've ever had, it would include him. the day you first met him, and today. the last day you're seeing ayato. you watch them slowly turn their heels to leave. and all of a sudden you spoke. you couldn't help it, you spoke without even thinking. and now you don't know what to say. or maybe-- you just don't want to say it.
"a-ayato..." 'did you ever think if me as more than a friend?'... heck- more than a worker even. you wanted to ask just that. but you wouldn't. cause you couldn't. "...thank you, but I did nothing wrong." you say as you smile. that was your final words before the traveler and ayato takes more steps towards another path, probably leading to the exit. you hesitantly and slowly lift your eyes up to take one. last. look to ayato and... the traveler. and last time your eyes were playing tricks on you, but now you realize it wasn't. cause she was smirking again. smirking at you. leaving you to death.
anger. shame. resentment.
fury rises inside of you. you were raised to be patient with others. it was your job. so you've never felt this way for someone before. you wanted to scream but you couldn't. all you could think about was the traveler.
...the traveler!! the traveler!! the traveler.
it was all because of her that you're in a state like this. ever since she came, things changed. she was the person ayato replaced you with. the person he chose to spend the rest of his life with. and the reason why he threw away all of his memories with you and treated you like nothing. he chose a girl he just met instead of a childhood friend companion who has done nothing but pledge loyalty to him. now that you think about it... for ayato you would risk your life for him, die for him even. but he wouldn't do that for you. he only showed up for the traveler when you thought he came to save you.
it felt like your world was crumbling right before your eyes, watching them walk away, leaving you to death. you could mean that literally since anytime now you might be reduced to nothing but also... ayato is your world. to you he is everything. growing up with him, growing with him. he really is that special to you.
too bad,
he doesn't even see you as anything more than a servant. to him you were, not. special. at. all.
their footsteps has slowly faded away. they left. they've left you. behind, to die. it seems... this is it. you hear the nobushis chuckling and talking amongst eachother,
"geez... what a show! anyway.., are the preparations complete?"
"really? then we could go!"
"where did she say we would meet her again?"
"that bitch... making us do all of this. if it weren't for the mora then I wouldn't have agreed."
her? who's her? who's she? these thoughts seem all too familiar, and once again, you got your answer quickly.
"oh the traveler asked us to meet her at jinren island." a nobushi replied. just when you thought your hatred for her couldn't get any worse. however your thoughts were completely cut off when the nobushis all started leaving you. not even batting a single eye. you remembered them mentioning something that would leave you to ashes here. what was it again? if you recall quickly it was probably a-- "a bomb," --a nobushi says to you. as if he could read your mind. "a few minutes from now, once we all leave, this place will get wrecked. including... you." the nobushi laughs. you have never been this lonely before. i mean, you always had ayato beside you. but now that he personally left you for someone else- who do you have now? you have no answer for that. or maybe it is the answer. nothing. no one is there to help you. your reason to live is gone. atleast, you served your life's purpose before you die. you were never really that close to others including your family because of ayato. so you have nothing to lose now. but... you wish you could atleast take revenge on the traveler... even though you hate that idea. revenge isn't something you would even consider but.. the traveler is a different case.
today has given you particularly a lot of last things. like your last thoughts just now. before feeling a strong burst of energy and the brightest light you've ever seen. and everything turns dark.
...your eyes are closed and you can't move your body. but you're hearing something... footsteps? oh, a voice.
" ...how pitiful,"
you fall into deep sleep once again after feeling such an electrifying strike on your back.
... just who was that?
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thesunisatangerine · 3 months
Text
playing for keeps – chapter two
alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader
warnings: coarse language, brief mentions of grief
(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]
word count: 10.2k
[1]
A shiver ran down your spine in spite of the sun’s anger that bored down on you. 
You wiped your free hand on your jersey but sweat clung to your hand like glue, yet your fingers remained cold, even the ones on the hand your mother was holding. It didn’t help that your gut had coiled into a knot that you couldn’t loosen; you’d breathed deeply, you’d counted backwards from ten… and still, it remained there.
What was it about this that scared you so much? 
The fear sprung in you the moment you stepped foot out of your home, growing the more you got closer, and now that you and your mother were walking across the parking lot to the building, it threatened to claw its way up your throat. And that was something you really didn’t want to happen. 
You gripped your mother’s hand tighter. She gazed down at you with a soft look, giving your hand a slight, reassuring squeeze, and that was enough to ease that feeling a little bit. 
The door creaked long and loud when your mother pushed it open, reminding you of that old, unused shed by the garden at home that made the same sound when you entered it, and it reverberated against the walls. No one was inside except for an empty desk in front of a wall with chipped, white paint. Just beside that, there was a corridor lined with a few doors, some of which were opened. And at the end of it there was an opening that led to the sunlit grasses of the outside.
At the sound, the head of a woman popped out from one of the open doors. The woman came out, a water bottle in hand which she set on the desk, and she greeted you and your mother with a friendly smile. Even still, you took a step back and hid behind your mother.
“Hello! I’m sorry for making you wait! How can I help you?”
“No need to apologize, we just came in.” Your mother laughed as she waved a hand in the air. “My daughter is actually here for her first day of training with the club.”
“Oh, is she?” The woman gasped and clapped her hands together in delight. She beamed down at you and stooped low to offer her hand out, and then she cooed, “Hello, love, I’m Teresa.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you took her hand and shook it, telling her your name in a whisper. Teresa smiled at you again before she straightened her back. 
“I’m so glad you got here just then. We don’t usually get people around this time so we tend to lock the front door, and I was about to head out back to bring the girls some water.” She explained to your mother and then she gazed back down at you again. “Are you excited to meet the girls?”
At your silence, your mother answered for you, “She is, it was all she could talk about. She’s just a bit shy.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, love. The girls are just as lovely. Will you be joining us?”
“Are parents allowed to stay?” When Teresa nodded with a hum, your mother continued, “I see. Perhaps another time. I have somewhere to be.”
“We could schedule for another time.” Teresa nodded in understanding before she regarded you again, “Now, shall we meet everyone?”
Fear rose in you again and your eyes darted to your mother’s. There, you found an encouraging light that grounded you and without really intending to, you agreed with Teresa. Shortly after, your mother left but not before she told you, “Now, my little firecracker, you behave yourself. And remember, have fun and show them what you’re made of.” 
Something akin to fire lit up in your chest at your mother’s words, and its warmth spread all the way to your fingers and toes. It was a soothing calm similar to the one you’d get from a cup of warm milk and honey in winter. And when she pressed a goodbye kiss on your forehead, a sense of safety blanketed over you even long after she’d left. 
Teresa took your hand after she locked the front door, and occupied the other with holding the rack of water bottles, and she led you down the corridor. As you passed through, it became clear just how tiny the facility actually was but it held everything that you needed; Teresa had pointed and named the areas with a jut of her chin: the toilets were here, the nurse bay just beside it, and the lunch room was just across. 
“It isn’t much but it’s home for the club.” Teresa smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. And her eyes were clouded with an emotion that made you feel a sudden urge to hug her. The emotion passed quickly and in the next moment, you found yourself surrounded by heat as you stepped down a threshold that led you outside. 
Squinting and putting your free hand over your eyes, the sight of the field came into focus. It was surrounded by a metal, wire fence, and its entrance opened up at the end of this path you were on to the middle of the nearest sideline. Through the fence, girls of seemingly different ages ran about in one half of the field, shouting and laughing as they passed balls to each other. And you found your nerves returning but it was soon replaced by giddy anticipation. 
You and Teresa were close enough now that your presence drew the attention of the girls. Upon catching the sight of you, they stopped and stared. And even from a good distance away, the weight of their eyes pressed on you and heat rose to your cheeks again.
A shout and a clap made the girls whip their heads–as well as your own–towards the direction of the sound. It came from a woman who said something to the girls you were too far to hear, but by the end of it, the girls resumed their training as if they never stopped. 
From the lack of attention, you sighed out a breath. 
Then the woman began her way to the sideline just as you and Teresa arrived there. Teresa set the water bottle rack down by her feet while your eyes wandered over from the walking woman to the other girls. For the most part, they all looked the same age and height, but a few towered over the rest with their great build and height, and that did nothing to quell your brewing fear. There was only one girl that was smaller than everyone else, younger too, whose height looked to be similar to yours. 
The girl was last in the line she queued for and as she stood there waiting for the ball, she had her head turned over her shoulders to look at you. She had short hair held back by a headband, and her shirt ballooned at the waistband of her shorts, which fell all the way down to her knees. Instead of fear, an urge to greet her rose in you, but as you raised your hand to wave at her, she whipped her head back to the front just in time to receive the next ball that was passed to her. 
“Ah! Our new addition to the family is finally here!”
The exclamation had you turning yours to the front, and you found the woman there with both hands planted on her hips. She towered over you–like most adults did but she was taller than most–and the angle made the fine lines around the corners of her eyes and lips look deeper from the harsh sunlight. Her blue eyes were light, inviting and warm, and they held a calming force that reminded you of your mother’s. When she stuck out her hand, you noted the way her skin clung to the surface of her flesh, almost translucent in the sun, but you found yourself unafraid to shake it immediately.
“Welcome to Sabadell Girls’ Football. My name is Catalina but you may call me Madam Cata. Remind me again, how old are you, little one?”
“I just turned eight.” You said, and you nearly forgot to add, “Madam.”
Madam Cata’s smile brightened and, to your surprise, she let out a small laugh. At her amusement, you found yourself smiling, too.
“Very young, indeed. Well then, I’ll take you from Teresa to meet the rest of the girls.”
Your heart jumped at the thought and you turned to Teresa. She must've seen a hint of your apprehension because she gave you a soft, encouraging smile and said, “You’ll be just fine. You’ll see.”
Somehow, you believed her. So you nodded and thanked her, and with another smile and a wave of her hand, she left you with Madam Cata who began to lead you away with a gentle hand against your back.
After you’d crossed the small distance from the sideline to the middle of the field, Madam Cata called out to the girls. They gathered and now that they were closer, your shoulders curled inwards under the weight of their stares, and you kept your eyes down at the red laces of your boots, which your cheeks and ears probably resembled now as they heated from the attention. 
You felt the weight of Madam Cata’s hand on your shoulder. 
She was smiling at you and then she said softly, “Don’t be afraid, little one. These are your friends and sisters. Go on. Tell them your name.”
Finally, you looked at the girls. And as if drawn by a force, your attention immediately locked on that girl, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, a sense of calm washed over you. 
The girl stared at you like the others did, but it was different. It wasn’t a look you found to be negative, more curious and attentive. Her head was tilted slightly to the side as if the change in angle would help her figure you out. She wasn’t quite smiling or frowning; she impressed you with a leveled attitude, an expression you typically saw on people who were significantly older than you, and you were surprised to see such a face worn by someone as young as the both of you. 
Her eyes traced an invisible path along your face all the way down to your boots. She was sizing you up, you knew this. You’d played enough games at recess and after school to know how kids scrutinized each other for weaknesses, but you felt it wasn’t the same with this girl. Her gaze was more appraising than critical, as if she was imagining how you would affect the team. You could almost see her calculations playing like a movie above her head and you barely stopped yourself from giggling at the image. 
She must’ve seen your amusement because she straightened her head in attention, and her brows knitted to a slight frown. The change should’ve given you grief but it only made you all the more interested to get to know her for reasons you couldn’t quite understand. There was just something about this girl… something that you wanted to discover. And so, right there and then, you decided that you were going to befriend her. 
Feeling a bit better, you finally introduced yourself with a wave to the others before you locked your gaze on the girl again.
The girl’s frown deepened. 
Your smile widened. 
“Now, girls, introduce yourselves.” Said Madam Cata. 
And so they did. 
A couple of the older girls gave you a smirk that reminded you of the older cousins you’d see at family gatherings, or the boys at school who thought you were easy picking whenever you played with them. The rest looked friendly and introduced themselves with a pleasant smile and a wave.
It was the girl’s turn now.
“Hi. I’m Alexia and I play as a midfielder.”
Alexia. Somehow, the name suited her just right, like she was born to be one. The fact that she was the only one who stated their position wasn’t lost to you. It was an assertion–a claim–and this again should’ve intimidated you but it only made you smile. 
Now that introductions were done, the girls dispersed as per Madam Cata’s instructions. 
“Alexia. Come here, my child.” Madam Cata called out which stopped Alexia from running away with the rest. She froze midstep, her eyes darting to you then back to Madam Cata, before she reluctantly turned and shuffled until she was beside the woman. 
“Seeing as the both of you are the closest in age, Alexia, I’d like you to make her feel welcomed.” Madam Cata began, placing a hand on Alexia’s shoulder, and then she continued, “You two are the youngest in the club and I have high hopes that you two will become friends.” 
Madam Cata smiled at you, then to Alexia. “What do you say, Alexia?”
Alexia said nothing and only stared at you. You stood your ground and stared back, waiting for Alexia’s move. In this moment, doubt crept in and your resolve wavered. Were you mistaken? Did she really not like you? She hasn’t even given you the chance, yet… You thought in disappointment. 
And then Alexia, instead of replying to Madam Cata, stuck out her open hand to you. “Let’s go?”
You couldn’t help it. You grinned.
Giving Madam Cata one last look, you took Alexia’s hand. It was sweaty and warm, and her grip was gentle. And then she was pulling you forward, easing you both in a run. And as you took off hand-in-hand across the yellowing grass of the field, Alexia turned her head to you and a tentative smile crinkled the corner of her lips, and you found the rest of your worries melting away.
You squeezed her hand, smiling.
And, this was the best part:
She squeezed your hand back. 
[2]
By the end of the day, Alexia’d introduced you to everyone, and all the other girls had warmed up to you, including the ones who’d intimidated you at first. Alexia may be young, but you saw how the other girls respected her. Despite this, Alexia remained sincere and kind, and this fact made your admiration for her grow
Training-wise, Madam Cata separated you from the rest at first, testing your stamina and evaluating your technical skills before she eventually let you join in on the 7-a-side matches that ended today’s training. You were slightly disappointed that you didn’t end up on the same team as Alexia, but it was fun defending against her. To your surprise, it didn’t even bother you that your team lost. Maybe it was because you got to witness Alexia shoot the winning goal, but of course you kept that information to yourself. It was late afternoon when you finished, and all the other girls had been taken home by their parents, except for you two.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wait inside, girls?” Miss Teresa called out from the front door. 
Alexia shook her head to answer for the both of you. 
“We’re fine here, thank you.”
“Alright. Just stay in sight, okay?” 
The both of you called out in agreement and finally satisfied, Miss Teresa returned back to her desk. There were two large trees that flanked the path towards the front door, and under their shade were benches built to wrap around their bases. Under one of those trees, you and Alexia waited for your parents to pick you up. 
You kicked your feet in the air as they hung from the bench, relishing the way the cool breeze soothed the heat around the new bruise you got on your shin. 
“The bruise is getting bigger.” Alexia muttered. She’d taken off her headband and you noticed how short her hair actually was; only the front had enough length to fall over her face, parting in the middle to reveal her eyes. Apples were high in her cheeks and the remaining sunlight that filtered through the leaves played on her skin, and made her hazel eyes look lighter, almost green. She twisted her fingers as her lips curled into a regretful pout. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kick you.”
“Hey, come on, it was a game. It’s fine.” When the pout didn’t leave her face, you knocked your knee against hers and added, “It looks kinda cool, don’t you think?”
At that, an amused smile replaced Alexia’s pout. “Only you would think a bruise looks cool.”
“I’m different like that.” 
“Sure, you are.”
“I am. Why else are you talking to me?”
Alexia rolled her eyes and then she laughed. 
“What time are you getting picked up?” 
You looked at your watch.
 “My mom should be here any minute now. What about yours?” 
“Soon as well,” Alexia answered after she peeked at your watch. And then, she asked, “Do you live nearby?”
“No, I live in Mollet.” 
Alexia squeaked and at the sound, you looked at her and found her eyes were delightfully wide with surprise. “You do? I do, too!”
“Really?” You gasped, mirroring her in your excitement. Elation filled you at the prospect of Alexia living so close. Imagine the sleepovers, the after school football games! “Where do you live? What school do you go to?”
But when Alexia answered you and you recognised that the places she named were on the other side of town, you pouted in disappointment. When Alexia asked you what your face was about, you told her where you lived and your school, and then Alexia started pouting, too.
“I wish we lived closer. We could play football after school!” 
“Yeah! And you could stay over! Or maybe I could?” Alexia whined. “Why do you have to live on the other side of town?” 
“If I could drive a car, I would come over all the time!” You imitated holding a steering wheel, and you blew air through your lips, imitating an engine. 
Alexia slapped your arm, laughing. “Are you speeding? That’s illegal! If you drive like that, I’ll never get in the same car as you!” 
“Fine,” you sighed dramatically. “I won’t speed just for you.” 
“That’s comforting.” Alexia quipped dryly. “No, but I’m serious. I’ll ask my parents if I could stay the night some time. You should do the same!”
“I will. My parents will probably say yes as long as your parents are alright with it.” 
The sound of gravel being disturbed drew both of your attention. A car and a truck parked in the space in front of you, and you recognised the car to be your mom’s. 
“My mom’s here. Is your–”
“Papá!”
Alexia jumped out of her seat and ran towards the other car, a truck, whose door opened to reveal a man, Alexia’s father. He was tall, like really tall, towering over the truck next to him. He had long, loose gray pants on that stretched all the way up to his chest; the upper part reminded you of a bib, and the white shirt beneath was covered with what you supposed to be car oil—your own father had come into the house with the strange scent and feel of it enough times for you to know the look of it from a distance. There was some of it on his cheeks as well, but Alexia didn’t seem to be bothered by it, for she immediately jumped into his arms, and he, with a cheerful laugh, lifted his daughter up with a small grunt.
You smiled at the sight. 
Seeing as Alexia’d gone to her father, you went ahead and did the same, jumping off the bench to meet your mother as she got out of her own car. 
“How was your day, my little firecracker?” Your mother asked after she’d greeted you with a kiss on your cheek, running her hands over your forehead and temple to wipe away the remaining sweat there.
“It was really good, Mamá! I made a friend! She’s over there. Look!” 
In your excitement, you tugged on your mother’s hand and pointed her over to where Alexia and her father were, only to find Alexia doing the same with her father.
Your mother laughed. “I see you’re very much alike, the two of you.”
And then, your mother waved at Alexia’s father, who waved back, before she began to walk over where they were, and you trailed behind her. She was probably going to talk to Alexia’s father, and you were excited to spend just a little more time with Alexia.
Alexia shoved her bag inside the truck before she ran to you. When she stopped right beside you and looped her arm around yours, you told her, “Your father’s so tall.” 
“He is, isn’t he?” Alexia beamed at you, pride in her voice as she looked at her father. “Is your father tall?”
“Yes, but not as tall as your dad.” And then a thought struck you as you looked back at Alexia. There was Alexia’s father, and here was Alexia. “You know, you look like your father.”
“Yeah, I know. People say it all the time.”
“And you don’t get sick of it?”
She looked at you with a confused frown. “No, why would I be?” 
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m not really sure why I asked that.” 
Alexia just smiled at you and asked, lowering her voice with mischief.  “What do you think they’re talking about?” 
She’d begun to shuffle forward, taking you along with her because of your linked arms, and now you could hear their conversation.
“–you and your family come over for dinner. I’d prepared so much tonight in celebration of my daughter’s entry to the club. I don’t think we could handle all the food at all.” Your mother laughed, and then she added, “We could also discuss the arrangements then.”
You turned to Alexia with wide eyes and met her gaze, which brimmed with excitement. Turning back to Alexia’s father, you willed him to say yes.
Alexia’s father scratched the back of his head, his other hand on his hip. “We’d love to come over. That is, if you don’t mind having a five-year-old over, of course.”
“No, we don’t mind at all! Please, do come over.”
“Okay, then I’ll tell my wife. What time should we head over?” 
“Nine should be fine.”
Alexia’s father nodded, and that was that.
You couldn’t hold your excitement any longer. You spun to face Alexia, grabbed her hands and both of you squealed. Laughter came from the direction of your parents, but you paid them no mind because all you could think about was that Alexia was coming over for dinner. 
“All right. That’s quite enough girls. Say goodbye now.” Alexia’s father said with a light voice. “You’ll see each other again later.”
Alexia nodded, and then soon she was hugging you. “Bye, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Alexia.” You said, lifting your chin off her shoulder before you let her go and took your place at your mother’s side.
“Alright, Jaume, it was nice meeting you.”
Jaume, so that was Alexia’s father’s name. Jaume waved his goodbye to the both of you with a smile on his face, and then he and Alexia drove away.
On the way home, up until Alexia and her family got to your home, you were practically buzzing with excitement. You ran up to your room to bathe, changed, ran back down, and even then the clock’s hand was still not pointing to nine. 
“Honey, you peeking out through the window won’t make them get here any faster.”
A sigh escaped your lips, and pushing yourself off the window sill with a huff, you whined. “When are they getting here?”
Your mother laughed at that. “It’s only ten past eight, my love. Go to your father and help him. Maybe time will pass quicker that way, no?” 
Dragging your feet with another sigh, you made your way to the kitchen. Your father had his back turned to you when you entered through the archway as he busied himself on the kitchen counter. He stuck his hand into the bag of flour in front of him, and he spread it all over the counter, which caused a plume of white to rise in the air.
“Can I help?” You asked, shuffling closer so that you were beside him. There was flour everywhere on his side of the counter, while two empty baking trays were lined up in front of you. “What are you making, Papá?”
“This, my love, is pan de payés.” He lifted the tea towel in front of him to reveal four domes of raw dough, their surfaces taut with tension. He looked at them, and with a proud nod, he said, “Go wash your hands and help me with them.”
You did, and as you dried your hands, you asked, “Why are you making them? Don’t we have enough food for tonight?” 
“Why, they’re for our friends, of course. You wouldn’t want Alexia to leave here empty-handed, would you now, my love?”
Heat rose to your cheeks as you shook your head.
Your father smiled down at you with warmth. “Of course you wouldn’t. Now here, I’ll prepare this first one; you watch, and I’ll let you do the rest. How does that sound?” 
You nodded, and you watched. He carefully placed a dome of dough in the centre of the floured space, then took another pinch of flour and sprinkled it over the dough, before lightly running his hands over the surface to spread the flour evenly. He took out his bread lame and ran the blade over the surface of the dough, creating four gashes that intersected to form a diamond, and then he placed the dome on one side of a baking tray. 
You did as he did, albeit slower, and with the patient guidance of your father. After your father put the trays in the oven, the heat of it filled the space with warmth and light. As the two of you looked on at your work, your father began, “Remember this, my love. Food is an extension of our feelings and identities. It fills us, it sustains us, and it connects us. It makes us remember. When you eat your mother’s cooking, what do you feel? What do you think about?”
You didn’t even need to think; you answered immediately. “Warm. And I think about home, Mamá, and you.”
Your father smiled. “Good. Now, what do you think Alexia would think about if, say, she ate a piece of this bread for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Us?”
He hummed, and then a small laugh escaped his lips. He bent down slightly so he could tap your nose with his finger. “It’s going to be you, my love. How nice it is to be thought of, especially by a new friend, hmm?” 
You giggled, but a familiar warmth surged through you at the thought.
A knock resonated through the house, and you gasped, looking at your father in excitement.
“Ah, our friends are here. Go on, now.” Your father tilted his head in the direction of the front door, a half-smile on his lips. You gave him a hug, and you sprinted towards the door, only slowing down when a “No running, please!” resounded from the kitchen. 
“Oh, she’s so cute!” You heard your mother’s coo, and when you turned the corner, you saw her fussing over a little girl balanced on her father’s hip, while Alexia’s mother laughed warmly at your mother’s attention, and finally, you spotted Alexia looking up at her sister being pampered with a smile curling her lips.
You walked over to them.
“Ah! My daughter’s finally here.” Your mother placed a gentle hand behind your back. 
“Hello.” You greeted Alexia shyly, eyes fleeting from Alexia’s parents to her sister, then to Alexia herself, who was smiling at you. You stepped up to them to shake their hands, introducing yourself to them, and they did the same to you. You learned that Alexia’s mother was named Eli, and her little sister was named Alba. You offered your hand to Alexia as well, with a playful smile. Alexia caught on, and she giggled before throwing her arms around you.
“Isn’t she a dear? Oh, they seem so close already!” You heard Eli say it with a clap of her hands.
“Believe me, Alexia was all she could talk about the whole night!” 
Your cheeks heated when Alexia laughed against your ear at what your mother said, but in the end, you decided you didn’t quite mind. 
“Hello, welcome to our home.” Your father finally stepped out of the kitchen. He walked up to Jaume, shook his hand, and stooped down to press his right cheek against Eli’s. He cooed at Alba the same way your mother did, and he gave Alexia a wave. “You all must be hungry; please come join us in the dining area.” 
Once the lot of you moved to the kitchen, the evening progressed quite quickly, as it usually did when you were having a good time. Your parents got to know each other after they initially took turns talking about you and Alexia. They laughed and got lost in their conversations, while you and Alexia busied yourselves with Alba, helping her with her food, and who, after finally warming up to you, revealed herself to be a bundle of energy. 
At one point, the conversation moved to the living room, and this was when you and Alexia snuck out to the backyard. Alba’d fallen asleep not long after dinner, and she was safely pressed against Eli when the both of you took off. You’d lead Alexia to your favourite spot; it was a swing that hung from a branch of a sturdy tree, and this was how you found yourself pushing Alexia gently as she sat on it, her hands around the ropes of the swing.
“Why do you play football?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence. 
“How do you mean?”
“Like, are you only playing it for fun? Or, are you serious about it?”
You hummed as you pushed her. “I’m not sure yet. But, sometimes, when I’m in school, I find myself daydreaming about it.”
“That’s the same with me. It’s all I can think about. I dream about it, too.” 
“You’re serious about it.” It wasn’t even a question; you could hear it clearly in her voice. But she turned her head, and the look she gave you all but confirmed it. 
“I am,” she breathed out. “I really am.” 
You gave her another push. “Where do you want to end up?”
“Barça.” Her answer came quickly, like she’d thought it all through. And then she added, “One day, I’ll play for them.”
The conviction in her voice was enough to electrify you with a surge of inspiration, and as you pushed her on the swing, you had no difficulty believing that it would come true. Like Alexia said, it was only a matter of time.
One day.
You smiled, even though you knew she couldn’t see it. 
“I can see it, Alexia. And I know you’ll look great in scarlet and blue.”
[3]
“Yes, Mamá, I got it. Actually, can you text me the list?” 
“Ah, daughter of mine, have you taken so many balls to the head that you can’t even remember two things?” At your mother’s irritated response, a laugh bubbled from your throat.
“Actually, yes, Mamá. Probably a thousand by now. And I was joking, come on.” You waved back at a woman who thanked you as she crossed the pedestrian lane, and then you continued driving. As you turned the corner, you asked, “Why do you need so many drinks anyway? Are you having a party? You know I can’t drink during the season, right?”
“My girl, you have too many questions. Just make sure you come home in time, okay?”
“Yes, Mamá.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Have fun at training and give Alexia a kiss for me.”
The sentence made you tense, and you had to will your hands to loosen their grip on the steering wheel. You loved your mother, but there was no way in hell you would do that, even for her. 
You swallowed, hoping your apprehension wouldn’t show through your voice. “Okay. I’m going to go now. I love you. Tell Papá I love him, too. And Nona.” 
“I will. They’re very excited to see you. And I love you, too, my little firecracker.” 
Just as you hung up the phone, you turned the corner and found the parking lot of the Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper. You parked your car and took out your gym bag. The sun was high enough to blind you, so you put a hand over your eyes, and you saw the tall building that sported Barça’s logo. And as if you were greeting an old friend, you whispered, “It’s good to see you again.”
“Hello!” 
A cheerful voice addressed you from behind. You turned back, and you saw a woman of slight build, shorter than you, with short brown hair that curled just behind her ear. Some locks fell on her temple and covered her left eye, and the sun made her hair look golden. She was wearing loose, off-grey high-rise pants and a black long-sleeved turtleneck that accentuated the curve of her body.
She was beautiful.
And she was also Tori Favaro, the top-scoring forward for Roma last season and the fourth candidate for last year’s Ballon d'Or. Also, the other half of Barcelona’s new transfers this season.
Of course, you knew about her.
“Hey, Tori,” you said with a smile. 
She was now in front of you, and she grinned, which revealed the dimple in her left cheek. “I didn’t think you’d remember me!”
“How could I forget? The only other time I met you, you gave me a hard time!”
“You’re telling me! We couldn’t get past you at all! The fact that the only goal we got that day was from our own goal is still a bit embarrassing.” She laughed, followed by a sigh–wistful. The two of you walked towards the entrance of the Gamper. “I can’t believe that was more than ten years ago.”
At her wistfulness, you couldn’t help but recall the memory as well: FIFA U17’s World Cup, when Spain and Brazil clashed during the knockout stages. Tori was relentless in her attack, and you barely saved the balls that managed to get past your defenders. Even then, you—and everyone who had eyes—saw her potential, and now look how far she’d come; she was very well on track to getting a Ballon d'Or, and she was never more in her prime than now. 
“Is there any chance of you representing your country again now that you’re back in Barça?” 
“I’m not sure. I’ll just make my decision when they call me up the next time.” You shrugged, hefting your gym bag over your shoulder. The sudden urge to change the topic rose in you, so you asked quickly, “How are you finding Barcelona so far?”
Thankfully, Tori took the bait, and you happily listened to what she had to say about your city as the both of you walked through the lit, pristine corridors of Gamper, which, as you noted in passing, were strangely barren, as you reacted every now and again to whatever Tori said, even recommending her places worth going to. 
As Tori pushed the door to the locker room, a frown crossed her face, and she looked behind her. “Where is everyone?”
“I don’t–”
“Welcome to Barça!” Came the unified greeting and the cheers that suddenly erupted. 
A sign that read the same thing with the letters in alternating scarlet and blue, accented by some yellow hearts, was held between Marta and Alexia while the others stood in a semi-circle, clapping and hooting. A cake was on the centre table, and just behind it were piles of folded fabric, which you recognised to be yours and Tori’s set of training kits. Beside you, Tori wore the same expression on your face: mouth agape, eyes wide in pleasant surprise.
The semi-circle dispersed, and the next thing you knew, you were being hugged, patted on the back, and chatter filled the room.
“Look who’s back! Barça’s prodigal daughter finally returned home!” Mapi shouted, arms thrown up in the air, before she grabbed you by your shoulder to pull you into her.
“Don’t act like you missed me, asshole.” You laughed and punched her arm when she pulled away.
Mapi cradled her arm like you’d just injured her, looking at you with a look of exaggerated pain. She gasped, “Violence, already? Is that how you treat a teammate? I won’t stand for this. Alexia! Captain!” 
At that, you sidestepped around Mapi, but not after sticking your tongue out at her, as you navigated through your other teammates who welcomed you. You managed to get to the edge of the crowd, just at the end of the locker room, and that was when you saw Alexia with Tori. You were close enough to hear snippets of their conversation.
“–expect me to go easy on you.” Alexia said with a laugh, hands on her hips.
“Of course. Just because you’re my–”
An arm wrapped around your shoulder and a presence pressed up to your side. 
“So, did you get me Christen’s signature?” Patri’s voice filtered through your ear. 
You hissed through your teeth, your voice gravely low. “You know, I did ask her. She just doesn’t want to give it to you, dude.” 
Patri looked at you incredulously. “Wait. What do you mean?” 
“I’m not sure.” You shrugged, placing your gym bag on the nearby bench. “Did you say something to her the last time you saw each other?”
“Dude, the last time I saw her was what?” Patri frowned and blew air through her lips. “During the SheBelieves Cup? What–”
Grinning, you pulled something out of your bag and revealed it to her. Delight filled you upon seeing Patri’s eyes widen in recognition, her gaze fleeting between your face and down to the jersey. 
“Oh, you cheeky bastard!” She took the jersey from you, held it up in front of her to appreciate the signature down in the middle, and she embraced you with a force that made you grunt out a laugh. “Thank you!” 
A voice broke the two of you apart.
“Easy there, Patri. Don’t break any of her bones, please. She hasn’t even begun playing yet.” 
It was Alexia. 
Your heart lurched.
Patri looked at you, then at Alexia, and she put her hands up in surrender. Patri gave you one last knowing look—something that you tried hard not to think about too much—before she gave a two-finger salute to her captain, and off she went, leaving you alone with Alexia. 
“Hey,” Alexia greeted you and stepped into your space, arms wrapping around your shoulders. You tensed for a moment before you remembered to relax, snaking your own arms around her chest. “Now, I’m a bit jealous. Where’s my present?”
“I think I happened to spy it on your wrist, or am I just going blind?” You hummed. When you pulled away, you took her left hand and lifted it up. “Oh, look! There it is!”
Alexia threw her head back in laughter. 
The sight, like always, made you feel warm.
“So, I suppose you like it?” You couldn’t help it; shyness bled into your tone, and you only hoped that Alexia didn’t hear it.
“I love it. Thank you. It suits me, doesn’t it?” 
And though the silver band of the watch glinted around her wrist as it caught the light when she lifted her wrist to the level of your eye, you appreciated the way the golden flecks in her eyes shone despite the blue tint from the fluorescent lighting. 
“I’m glad you like it.” You said barely above a whisper, and you berated yourself at the softness that lingered there, but the way Alexia’s eyes became unfocused and lidded, as if she’d thought of a memory, made the slipup almost worth it.
Almost.
“Alright, good morning, everyone!” Jona’s voice pierced through the chatter, and everyone stilled, apt with attention, before sitting down on the bench. Alexia, Irene, and Marta remained standing but kept mostly to the sides. He, and two other assistant coaches, stepped into the room with their clipboards and folders in hand.
You shared a look with Tori. She snuck you a thumbs up, and you pressed your lips together, fighting a grin. 
“First of all, welcome to our new transfers.” A round of applause went around. Jona faced Tori, and he continued, “Tori, thank you for joining us. I hope you’ve settled yourself in the city, and we really look forward to playing with you.”
“I’ll do my very best to help our club. Visca Barça!” At the latter, hoots and claps erupted.
Jona laughed, but when he motioned for everyone to calm back down, the locker room grew silent again.
“And of course, this woman needs no introduction. Barça’s very own Wall has returned.”
Heat rose to your cheeks as cheers erupted once again. And it didn’t help that Alexia was looking at you with something akin to pride while clapping her hands, a soft smile on her lips.
“It’s great to be back, Jona. And like Tori, I’ll do my best to keep our club moving forward.” You caught Alexia’s eyes. “It is home, after all.” 
“It is home, indeed. Well, put your training kits on and meet us down at the fields. The rest of you, please head on over to Pitch 9.” 
Jona and the other coaches filed out. Alexia followed along with the rest, but not before giving you another look. You stared long after she’d gone, not knowing Patri remained in the changing room and saw the whole until you found her with a look of disapproval clear on her face.
She sighed, shook her head as she got up, and left.
Tori was there, too, and her eyes flicked between the door and you, then to the door again, and you could almost see the questions forming in her mind. You quickly took your training kits and entered one of the changing cubicles to spare yourself from any more confrontations. 
[4]
Training went relatively well. For the most part, anyway.
You were with the team for the warm-ups before you were separated—along with the other goalkeepers—for technical training, and then Jona called all of you back for some 5-side matches. 
At one point, your team went against Tori and Alexia’s team. They’d linked up, the two of them, keeping their touches to two at most. They were close now, and Jana was just barely holding Alexia at bay. You spotted Tori’s signal from the corner of your eye, but you needed Alexia to commit to a pass. You kept your weight on your toes. With a body feint to the left, tapping the ball to the right with her outer foot, and a quick cutback to the left, Jana was defeated, and Alexia kicked the ball.
Now!
You sprinted forward to the left, where you knew Tori was, and you leaped. The ball stuck to your gloves mid-air.
“Holy shit!” It came from a surprised Tori. 
You would’ve laughed, but you spotted an unmarked Caro who was making a run for it. You wound your shoulder back right after you landed on your feet and released the ball before Tori and Alexia could even think to get back. 
It sailed right on over to Caro, and she brought it down with her chest. Ingrid was on Caro all at once, but Esmee surged forward to follow a diagonal path from behind Caro, asking for the ball, and it only took one moment’s hesitation from Ingrid for Caro to make just enough space for her to shoot.
The ball went past the nearest post, and you pumped your hand in the air. When Caro saw you with her arm around Esmee, she gave you a thumbs up, and you returned the gesture with a clap.
It was nearing midday when all of you’d cooled down and headed to the gym. On the way inside, Tori ran up to you. 
“You nearly took off my head there.” She said, just slightly out of breath as she patted your back.
“I was going to tell you, ‘Heads up!’, but that would’ve ruined the surprise now, right?”
“Remind me not to play opposite you again.” She joked. “I forgot how aggressive you play. And I think you’ve only gotten worse!”
“It comes with the title.” You said, winking at her.
“Does it now?” She said it dryly, squinting at you. And then the both of you parted ways for your respective workouts.
It was going relatively well, but at one point, your attention moved to Alexia without meaning to. Alexia stood watch over Tori, who was lying down on the bench and lifting, attentive, and they conversed with a familiarity that transcended more than that of acquaintances. And you knew, then, that they’d probably hung out outside of sporting functions.
For some reason, the sight made you ache. 
Then a sigh came from somewhere beside you. You turned and found Patri there with her levelled expression, but her eyes were knowing with the way they looked at you. She tilted her head and patted your back before making her way to the exit. You hesitated for a moment, but, as if it had its own volition, your body stood up and followed her out to the sunlit pitch. 
Patri was further away now; she hadn’t stopped walking, and you had to jog to catch up with her. It took a moment, but you finally matched her stride, and without even looking at you, Patri began, “How are you?”
You stuck your hands into the pockets of your shorts. “Fine.”
Patri hummed, obviously unconvinced. She took a breath and let it out loudly through her teeth. Your shoulders locked at the sound, and you prepared yourself for the weight of whatever she was about to say. 
“I saw you looking at her,” Patri said, straight to the heart of the matter, and your body coiled tighter with tension. “You went through all that trouble. Yet, you’re back here again and still not over her. In fact, I think you’re—” Patri sent you a look, though this one fleeted so quickly that you weren’t able to decipher it. She blinked, returning her gaze forward. “Never mind.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course, it fucking does!” Patri exclaimed. “You were doing better! And then you ghosted me for months. The last time we talked, everything was going well with—"
“Don’t.” The word came out firm—a warning. “Patri, please, I don’t want to talk about it.”
Patri’s voice softened. “So... something did happen.”
“Patri. Drop it.”
Patri stopped walking just several metres away from the gym tent; you’d finished a lap around the pitch. She frowned at you, and you were ready to fight back if she insisted on talking about it, but she shook her head, and the frown melted away, and in its place was a look of pity.
“Okay. I hope you know what you’re doing. Just ready yourself.”
A pause and a hesitant look flashed through her face. But Patri was a good friend because she was direct, almost callous in the way she called everything as it was, and it was something you’d always liked and admired about her. Now it was no different because she said, “I think you know yourself already, but I just thought I’d let you know. Alexia has a girlfriend.” 
Despite yourself, your heart dropped. And you ached.
Oh.
Patri must’ve seen something on your face because that pitying look deepened with a hint of sympathy. She patted your back gently before she headed back in. You breathed deep, and it came out shaky, but you steeled yourself as you parted the entrance to the gym. 
Alexia’s laughter filled the air, drawing your attention immediately. And there she was in the same spot, holding onto Tori’s shoulder for support, bent over in her amusement, while Tori looked at her with a dimpled smile. 
You turned away.
[5]
A grunt escaped your lips as you got out of the car, your muscles bearing a pleasant soreness. You turned your headlights off and parked in front of your parents’ house. It was later than you’d expected, but the additional technical session and the meeting with Jona caused you to be one of the last ones out of the Gamper. 
With the cake and drinks you promised your mother to get in hand, you knocked on the door and waited. There was a lone light that filtered from the living room, which you found a bit odd, but tiredness won out, and you decided to pay it no mind. Maybe your parents were just relaxing on the couch. 
No one answered. 
Frowning, you placed the drinks on the porch step, and you balanced the cake on one hand as you opened the door with your key. 
You let yourself in, and the hallway was dark.
“Mamá? Papá? Where–”
The lights in the hallway and the kitchen flashed on in quick succession, nearly blinding you.
“Surprise!” The resonant cheer came, and the cake box jumped in your hand, nearly slipping. 
You found your mother’s face first, and you laughed, “Oh my god!” 
“Welcome home, my love!” Your mother embraced you, and you barely had enough time to angle the cake away and put the box of drinks down so she could do it properly. You leaned down, and she placed a kiss on your cheek, and then the other. 
“Hello, Mamá.” You muttered, closing your eyes, soaking in her presence and the peace that came with it. Oh, how you missed her. Another pair of arms wrapped around you; it was your father’s, and suddenly heat rose to your eyes at the warmth that seemed to blanket over you, both inside and out. 
“Let me grab that for you, my love.” Your father said, taking the cake box from your hand, but not before kissing your temple as a greeting. 
When you pulled away, you saw it wasn’t just your parents there. There were Eli, Alba, and Alexia, with little Nona in her arms. Nona’s white coat was a stark contrast to the dark shirt that Alexia wore. There was a tender smile on her lips, her eyes almost wistful as she caught your gaze. And could you really blame your heart if it ached beneath the weight of her gaze?
“Oh, sweetie, have you grown taller?” Eli asked as she stepped into you, hugging and kissing your cheeks like your mother did. 
“I’m not sure about that, Eli.” You giggled into her ear. “How are you?”
“Growing grey hair, love. You went away, and I had no one else to keep Alexia in line. Alba doesn’t help; in fact, she encourages her sister’s wiles, and Alexia does the same. Partners in crime, these two!” 
Alba’s laughter resonated in your ear when you hugged her next, and you chuckled at the exasperation in Eli’s voice. Alba retorted, “Má, how else could we keep you on your toes?” 
“I’d very much not want to be kept on my toes. Thank you very much.” 
“Eli, I’m sure Alexia couldn’t be that bad. She’s always been a good girl.” At that, you caught Alexia’s gaze with a smirk. Her eyes twinkled with recognition, probably remembering what the both of you got up to behind your parents’ backs. She shook her head slightly, mouthing, ‘You’re an asshole.’
You gave her another smirk before you added lightly, "Alba, on the other hand...”
You didn’t even finish the sentence before you got a well-deserved punch to the arm from Alba herself—a punch you knew would surely form a bruise. Cradling your sore arm, you yelped, looking at Alexia for help.
“Alba, please don’t injure our new goalkeeper. We need her.” Alexia said calmly, and you looked at Alba triumphantly. Alba opened her mouth to protest, it seemed, but Alexia cut her off. “There’s no need for that. I’ll just ask Jona to make her do some extra laps during warm-ups in our next training session.”
“Yeah, that’s right—hey!” Realising what she said, you scoffed while Alba threw her head back, laughing. Alexia’s lips were curled up in a satisfied smirk, looking much like someone who’d gotten the last word. 
“Ha! That’s what you get—” 
Eli cut Alba off. “That’s enough, you three. I swear, when you’re together, you act like you’re all still ten!” 
“It’s a bit endearing, though, isn’t it, Eli?” Your mother laughed, putting a placating hand on Eli’s shoulder. “But Eli is right. We should take this all to the dining table, no? The food is about to grow cold.”
[6]
In the two years you lived in the States, you spent most evenings alone, and the food you’d cooked from the recipes you took with you never tasted like home. It’d been so long, you nearly forgot how filling food should be—both in mind, body, and spirit. But now, in the presence of your family, with their love laid out in front of you—your mother’s arrós negre, Eli’s fricandó, and your father’s pan de payés—with their laughter and their warmth, you were finally filled again. 
You ate mostly in silence, soaking in the scene and the ruckus with a smile, and the detail of that one empty chair wasn’t lost to you either. The reminder drew your attention to Alexia. She’d tied her hair in a low ponytail and left two locks of her hair to frame either side of her face, which made her look all the more beautiful. In this light, Alexia’s image seemed to split in such a way that you could almost feel a presence in that empty seat beside her, looking on at this scene as you were.
Grief gripped at your heart, but love was quick to soothe the pain with its gentle caress. 
The minutes flew by, and many times you caught Alexia sneaking peeks at her phone, sometimes even texting while she wore a tender expression. If anyone saw it, no one called her out for it—well, maybe except for Eli, who, upon spotting her daughter on her phone, gave her a reprimanding smack against her arm, followed by a hissed scolding. Alexia looked so much like a child just then, with her wide eyes, that you nearly spat out your drink. She caught you staring, and she squinted her eyes. To that, you blinked innocently at her, curling your lips slightly to let her know you saw the whole thing. 
“So, are you in a relationship, dear?” Eli’s unexpected question made the water go into the wrong hole, and you spluttered. Alba patted your back while Alexia eyed you with concern and curiosity. Eli asked, “Are you okay, love?”
You gave her a thumbs up.
“Alright. Where was I? Right. Being in America for two years, surely you must’ve met someone.”
After composing yourself finally, you answered, “No, I’m not, Eli. I’d been so busy that I had no time for it, really.”
“What? A pretty girl like you all alone? I don’t quite believe that!” Eli exclaimed. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you with anyone.”
“Apart from that poor boy... What was his name?” Your father added. He snapped his fingers. “Ah! Guille! Nice boy, he was. Where is he now anyway?”
“We were never together, Papá.” For some reason, you felt the need to clarify that. “And he’s in London, finishing his PhD at York.” 
“Wow, that’s amazing. And I never knew you kept in touch.” Your mother’s brows shot up in surprise, and you thought you heard a hint of awe in her tone. Teasingly, she said, “Are you sure you’re not seeing him?”
You sighed internally, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You smiled and said, “Yeah, sometimes. I haven’t seen him in a while, though, but the last time we talked, he and his girlfriend were looking for a new apartment.” 
“Oh, he has a girlfriend, does he? That’s unfortunate.” 
“Not for me. I’m glad he’s happy.” You shrugged before you sipped your water.
“Are you waiting for someone, maybe?” Alba teased, wagging her brows.
You tensed, and you'd paused too long, it seemed, because Alba gasped. 
“Oh, she is! Who is it?” 
“Alba,” came Alexia's warning tone.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just excited.” Then Alba sighed dreamily, “I just think it’s kind of romantic.
You could feel the weight of Alexia’s eyes on you, but you dared not look up. You kept eating.
No. It wasn’t romantic. 
It was painful.
[7]
After you helped clean up despite your mother’s insistence not to, and after an hour of sitting in the living room conversing, the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you. You needed to be alone, so you took little Nona from your lap and into your arms and snuck out into the garden. The light that streamed out from the living room was adequate enough for you to spot your old swing. You went to it, and, after inspecting and deeming it fit to take your weight, you sat on it and began a gentle rhythm, running your hand over Nona’s head, who purred at the attention.
The sound of grass being disturbed pricked at your ears, and you knew it was Alexia even before she spoke.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
You turned your head to the side where Alexia’d rested her back against the tree trunk, half of her face bathed in the incandescent glow of the living room light. You hummed in answer.
“Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“You’re on your swing.” Alexia spoke as if that fact held the answer to your question. “You used to come here and sulk.” 
You scoffed. “I didn’t sulk.”
“You did. You’re doing it right now!” Alexia teased.
“Now I am because you’re bothering me!” 
“Fine, I’ll leave then.” 
You knew Alexia was joking, but when she made an exaggerated move to leave, you spoke softly, “No, stay. Please.” 
Alexia froze, and after a moment, she leaned back on the tree again. 
“I’m sorry about Alba if she did cross a line.”
“She didn’t; don’t worry. Thank you, though.”
“Are you sure? You seemed uncomfortable.”
“I was uncomfortable because I happen to not like talking about my love life.” You said, a bit defensively. “Wouldn't you feel uncomfortable too if I started grilling you about who you’re with right now?” 
Alexia remained silent. You huffed, “Exactly.”
A silence settled in the air. 
You gripped the rope of the swing, and the texture felt off. You inspected it; the rope was new.
“Yeah, uh, I had them replaced.” Alexia admitted, and when you faced her, she was rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “I kind of broke it when I was here last.” 
Another pause. “I hope you don’t mind. Sometimes, I like to come here to think. Plus, I get to visit your parents and Nona, so, yeah.” 
“No, of course I don’t mind. This is your home as much as it is mine. We’re family.”
Alexia opened her mouth while a hurt look flashed behind her eyes. She seemed to change her mind because she closed her mouth and bit her lip before she eventually said in a hoarse voice, “Yeah, of course.” 
Alexia was standing right there, but you’d never felt farther from her than now. There was a rift between you, but it was only you who could see it—you could feel it widening and deepening. Maybe Alexia could feel it, too, but you were sure it wasn’t like the way you did. 
It didn’t cut her the way it wounded you. 
Nona meowed softly in your lap as she stood, nosing at your chin and dragging her head on your jaw. You cooed as you scooped her up, pressing a kiss into the warmth of her fur, and you giggled when she licked your cheek and began purring. Alexia kneeled in front of you, running a finger under Nona’s chin, who purred even louder from the added attention. 
“She really missed you, you know.” Alexia whispered, and as she did, she gazed up at you. The warm light made her eyes shine and her cheeks glow with an earnestness that you longed to caress, that invited you to trace the outline of her brow and to feel the soft skin just beneath her eye. 
She was so beautiful. 
She’d always been.
You could never tell her that, and it hurt.
“I missed her, too.” You breathed softly, “So much.”
And still looking into her eyes, you murmured even softer, “You have no idea.” 
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Calling all fanfiction Readers it's time to have your say.
Hi Fanfiction Readers
My name is Tamsin and I am a PhD student, fellow lurker and fanfiction reader. I am conducting a study into the role that fanfiction plays in the lives of those fans who read fanfiction as part of their everyday lives. Does your search history include the tags related to found family, irondad or batbad for example, then I am interested in talking to you. If you would like to take part in discussions around these tags with a fellow reader and lurkers of these tags within A03 please message me. 
Taking part in this research is a chance for you to share your own experience of fanfiction and what it means to you, while also highlighting that lurkers do still have a voice and an important part to play within fandom research. 
Below the cut is more information about this study and what it involves. Please read this if you would like more information before getting in touch. If you are unable to take part please can you reblog this post or share it to anyone you feel might wish to take part. 
Why have I been chosen?
I have deliberately chosen lurkers within fanfiction communities as the messages they take from and their reasons for reading fanfiction are under researched. Although you may not be a lurker in all fandoms you are involved in, the fact that you are a lurker within any fanfiction spaces make you the ideal candidate from this exploration into lurkers and their relationships with fanfiction, fanfictions online spaces and fandom communities. 
I would also like to emphasise that I require all participants to be over the age of 18 to take part in this study. If you are under 18 please let me know now. 
What does taking part mean?
By agreeing to take part in this study you are agreeing to record a diary of your fanfiction use and reasons for this usage within a discord chat. There is no limit for entries and I ask that the minimum response is once every two weeks. However, this project is aiming to work around your life and commitments and if you do miss a couple of weeks do not panic. Just start sending entries or replying to prompts again when you are able to. If I have not heard from you in a month I will send a message which will read:
Hi. I hope you are doing well. I am just sending a message to check in and to double check if you wish to continue taking part in the study. If you are happy to still take part please send any form of response to this message. 
It is important to note that this response can be as limited as simply sending an emoji. If I do not receive a response after two weeks I will stop attempting to contact you. However this is not seen as a full withdrawal from the study and you are able to return at any time. I will also still use the discussions we have already had as part of my thesis. If you would like to withdraw fully from the study please let me or my supervisors know, with the process of how to do this explained below. 
These entries can take the form of voice notes, written responses and memes or tiktoks. Every two weeks I shall send a prompt to the chat that hosts the diary entries, these are intended to get you thinking about certain topics and do not have to be answered directly or even at all if the questions make you uncomfortable or touch on something you are unwilling to share. At the end of every month I will arrange a touch base interview (over google meet) which will last about an hour. This will be a chance to discuss anything that you find easier to discuss face to face, to review some of your diary entries and for me to answer any question you may have. While I will aim to have these interviews a month apart I do understand that life may get in the way. I am more than happy to be flexible and move interviews around or push them back/bring them forward depending on your schedules. 
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merakiui · 4 months
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simply business.
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.
Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.
“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”
If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.
Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.
Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.
Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.
With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.
“I aim to surprise.”
“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”
“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”
He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.
“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”
“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.
Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.
“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”
He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”
“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”
He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”
“I see.”
You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”
Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.
“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”
“Very.”
“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”
“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”
“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”
He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.
“Aren’t you diligent?”
The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”
“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”
“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”
“Is that all?”
You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”
“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”
“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.
What was that about?
“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”
“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”
“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”
“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”
“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”
“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”
Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!
As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.
“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”
“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”
“And if it was an individual effort?”
“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”
“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”
That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?
You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”
“Do you plan to be?”
“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”
“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”
Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”
“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”
Just what kind of test is that?
“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”
“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”
“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”
“A fine attitude to have.”
“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”
No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…
“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”
“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.
That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?
“If I may ask one final question…”
“Sure thing!”
Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”
More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.
Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.
“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”
“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”
You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”
“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”
Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”
Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.
“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”
“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”
“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”
Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.
And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.
Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”
“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”
“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”
Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.
Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.
Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.
“Will I truly get the job?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.
“On how far you’re willing to go.”
“C-Can he leave?”
Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”
“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.
You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”
“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”
Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.
“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.
It’s not worth it. I should leave.
You should, but can you?
“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”
Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.
I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.
Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.
Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.
From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.
“Will that be all?”
“Keep going.”
“Haven’t I done enough?”
“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”
You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.
You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”
“For now.”
At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.
“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”
As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.
“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.
It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.
I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.
When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.
“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”
The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”
“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”
You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”
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m1lflov3rrr · 8 months
Text
Can’t Help Falling in Love (With You, Over and Over Again)
Pairing: Larissa Weems x fem!reader
Warnings: none, just heartwarming fluff <3
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: You were away for a year, and thought you’d surprise your wife at the night of the Rave’n…
A/N: Hello loves, so so sorry for being inactive!! I’ve been very busy with school, but I am writing one of your requests at the moment :))
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You were nervous, to say the least. 
It had been exactly one year since you saw her. 
Let us rewind a bit, shall we? 
You had been together with your wife, the formidable Larissa Weems, for 8 years. And tonight was the night of your anniversary, when you got engaged. It was on this day, exactly 9 years ago that she had asked to marry you. The night of the Rave’n dance. You weren’t surprised that she had chosen this specific event for the proposal, you knew how close to Larissa’s heart the Rave’n was. You found it to be the most adorable thing ever. 
And tonight was the night of the Rave’n, once again. 
You had started your own business a few years ago, a law firm. And last year it had gained an unexpectable amount of success, so much so that you had to leave her and expand the business across the country in California. 
Obviously she couldn’t have come with you, she had a school to run. 
You were glad of how supportive and understanding Larissa was, and even though she tried to keep a strong façade and pretend like she’s okay with you leaving for such a long time, you could see right through her. You knew how much your absence affected her. It sure as hell did affect you. 
But every day, you both made time in your schedules for a video call. Twice a day, every morning, every night. Asking how your days had been, updating each other on the latest events. 
And you made that system work. Although the distance was gnawing at you both, you somehow managed to make it work. 
Your business had expanded three times bigger during your stay in California, and when you finally were informed by your assistant that everything was organized for your stay to be over, that you had enough employees and that the business was thriving, you immediately booked a flight back home. 
And it was perfect, actually. You wanted to surprise her, and the Rave’n was the perfect place to do it. (And also, you couldn’t help but love dramatic entrances, as well.) 
You were sitting on the taxi, on the phone with your dear friend and your wife’s co-worker, Marilyn. You wanted to make sure everything was perfect for tonight. 
You did keep in contact with her frequently as well, asking her updates on her life, (and also asking her how Larissa’s doing, since she was pretending to be all fine when talking to you). 
Marilyn had told you, how lately the usually most modest, organized and practical woman had been more snappy and stressed than usual. And she didn’t have any extra workloads or anything, so you knew it was because of you. Because lately, you had been so busy that you were only able to call her once a day. 
It didn’t seem like a big thing or anything, surely she wouldn’t be affected by such a small change? Wrong. 
Larissa was definitely affected by it. She always had to be in order, having things to go her way and sticking to her schedule, that such a small change did, in fact, take a huge toll on her. And you felt incredibly bad about it. 
Last year, you had left the day after the Rave’n. You wanted to stay for that night, to make your last night there unforgettable. And it was only so ironic and fitting that you were coming back the exact day, tonight. And Larissa knew nothing of it. That was the best part. You loved making surprises. 
And tonight would make the greatest surprise of all. 
-
”And you’re sure she has no idea?” You asked Marilyn as you were checking yourself out on the mirror. You were in her private quarters getting ready with the redhead. 
You had a gorgeous silk gown on you that was definitely accentuating every curve on your body, paired with matching high stilettos. 
(Or, imagine your own!)
When you saw the dress on one of your shopping trips, you knew it’d be perfect for tonight. The dress was expensive, but with your now-high salary, it really didn’t matter. It was graceful, but still left little to the imagination with an open back and its tight, but comfortable fit. 
”Trust me, Y/N, the woman’s clueless. She was literally venting on me yesterday about having to spend the Rave’n completely alone. You have no idea how hard it was for me to just not spill the plan right there and then.” The redhead responded as she was putting on her black, gem earrings. 
You smiled, feeling those nervous butterflies in your stomach about what was going to happen very soon now. 
”Good.” 
”Okay, the dance starts in 15, and I have to be there early to greet the students at the entrance. You know what to do, right?” She asked as she slid on her striking red boots. 
You nodded, smiling thankfully at her in the mirror as she picked up her purse and waved you goodbye before rushing out the door. 
This was going to be one hell of a night. 
-
And before you knew it, you were standing at the entrance, waiting for your call. 
You had planned everything out perfectly. The very same song that played on the night she proposed, would start playing any moment now, and then you’d enter the venue. 
And then, sooner than you thought, that beautiful piano melody began enchanting your whole being as the doors opened. 
Wise men say…
Larissa, who was standing in the middle of the venue, frowned as she heard the music - it sounded vaguely familiar. She soon recognized it and smiled at herself, maybe a bit sentimentally, being reminded of your absence. (Or so she thought.) 
She had really been struggling lately, missing you. You were her everything, her world, her whole being. She simply didn’t know how long she could survive without you anymore, she thought she’d burst with how much she just needed you in her arms at this moment. 
Only fools rush in…
You nervously walked inside, scanning the room with your eyes. Many people were already looking at you, in awe and in surprise. They didn’t know either that the principal’s wife would make it here tonight. 
The children had grown to love you over the years as you naturally hung out a lot at the Academy. 
Several gasps could be heard across the room, causing Larissa’s attention to divert to the doors. 
And she saw you. 
And her entire world froze. 
But I can’t help…
Was she dreaming? Did she have a fever? Was she really missing you that much that she had started seeing things? Imagining things? 
But her racing thoughts were interrupted as you gracefully walked over to her, cupping her cheeks with your hands. 
”Hello, my love.” 
And at hearing your voice, feeling your touch, she realized that it was all real. That you were real. 
You saw how her eyes began glistening with unshed tears, and an almost inaudible sound, barely above a whisper came out from her lips; 
”Darling…” 
Falling in love with you. 
And her hands practically flew to the back of your neck, pulling you close and connecting your lips after all this time. 
And it was so magical, and the whole room had their eyes on you. Everything was perfect. 
You smiled in content against her lips, glad to be home again. 
”I missed you so much, Rissa. You have no idea. May I have this dance?” You whispered, watching how a single tear was running down her cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb as you placed another loving kiss on her lips. 
And your wife seemed to still be so incredibly shocked, that all she could mutter out was a rushed; ”Always.” 
Oh, take my hand… 
She pulled you into the warmest hug you’d ever been in as you began swaying to the music, everyone else in the room gathered in a large circle around you two, admiring your moment and the unconditional love that was now felt by everyone in the dance. 
Take my whole life too…
Larissa buried her face in your neck, breathing in your familiar scent and sighing with relief, you were at last, back where you were supposed to be. In her arms. 
”Don’t you ever leave me for that long again.” She whispered to your ear, causing you to grin widely as you turned your gaze to meet hers. 
For I can’t help… 
”I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll never, ever leave you again. Cross my heart.” You whispered back, sealing it with a kiss. 
Falling in love with you. 
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Text
Bruce and Alfred's reacting to the Batkids new names is everything.
---
Bruce: Long hair, huh?
Dick: Is that all you got from my four hour explanation of the entire time I was gone?
Bruce: No, no, Nightwing was it? Nice adventures. I like the logo.
Alfred: Shall I schedule a father-son bonding haircut?
---
Dick: You named yourself after the man who killed you.
Jason: I... I mean...
Bruce: I should not have let you read classics. Congratulations edgelord.
Jason: Well at least I won't get my identity sniffed out by a parasocial teenager.
Alfred: Where is Master Tim?
---
Alfred: Red Robin? I had so much faith.
Bruce: Could've been more original. Nice wings, red color scheme, and bird logo. I'm starting to see what the neurologist meant by literal thinking.
---
Bruce: Oracle, I like it. I'm glad to see you back in action. Did you really minimize yourself to a computer program?
Dick: SHE NAMED HERSELF AFTER PERCY JACKSON! DOES NOBODY ELSE SEE THIS? You redhead ass Rachel Dare knockoff.
Barbara: We don't talk about it.
---
Bruce: Of all the names, really?
Alfred: That will obviously not get confusing.
Luke: Well. It's a cool name and you gotta get more original with your vehicles.
---
Bruce: Orphan, um, ok. Are you sure you don't want something else. How about... um... BLACK BAT. Y'know because yours in only an outline? Um, how about adoption papers. Do you want adoption papers?
3K notes · View notes
sunshyni · 3 months
Text
big boy energy
Jisung × Fem!reader
notes: this is my first text in English, so I'm feeling nervous 😬 English is not my native language, so forgive me for any errors or mistakes like that!! And that's it!! I hope you enjoy it!!
w.c: 0,7k
tw: none
I don't even know if this is good. I write more to see how my English vocabulary is doing, but anyway!!
Good read, sweeties!! ❤️
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Your older brother's getting married in a few months, and dance lessons were scheduled for the couple and the godparents to avoid any embarrassment on the big day. Right now, you have no clue who your dance partner will be because your brother keeps saying, “Her right dance partner will show up any minute”.
You're chilling in a chair, adjusting your high heels for dancing, when you hear a noise from the salon door, and your eyes immediately snap in that direction.
— Hey guys, am I late? Sorry, my flight was delayed — Says the guy standing by the door. Jisung looks taller and stronger than the last time you saw him, but he still has that same sparkle in his eyes from when you were kids. Jisung, just two years older than you, used to mess with your braids all the time.
It was tough when he left town to study and work in Korea, his country of origin. You couldn't help but miss him, even though it seemed like he didn't give a damn about leaving you behind.
You kinda resented him for that because you've always had a thing for him, but he either didn't notice or didn't feel the same. I mean, you used to like him, but now that you see him another time, your heart can't help but race.
— Jisungie! You're not tired, are you? — Your brother asks. Jisung, dressed all black, looks even hotter than usual — I've got a mission for you.
— I'm good, let's do it — Jisung says, meeting your gaze with a nostalgic sweetness. You finally stand up, and thankfully, you don't trip and fall flat on your face.
— You'll be dancing with my sister, okay? — Your brother practically pushes Jisung in your direction. Jisung smiles at you, and all you can do is cross your arms and scowl.
— I hate you both — You mutter to Jisung and your brother as he heads back to his fiancée, sticking his tongue out at you in a teasing way. The dance teacher starts the class, and you even have the chance to complain to Jisung. He holds you tighter, causing you some agitation, but all you can focus on is trying to breathe normally while his face is so close to yours.
— Did you miss me, shawty? — He asks, leading the dance with skill, not like the same boy from years ago who learned to salsa from “Shall We Dance?” while you were sighing over the charmer Richard Gere.
— I'm not giving you the answer you want, Andy Park — You say, and Jisung chuckles softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you brush them off, wrapping your arms around his neck like they were made to be there.
— I prefer when you call me Jisungie, babe.
— I preferred it when you didn't leave me alone, babe — You retort, stepping on his feet. Jisung lets out a low groan but still holds you close, dancing like there's no one else in the room.
— I'm sorry for letting you down all this time. I'm an asshole, it's true — Jisung admits, acknowledging all the times you two didn't talk when you really wanted to, even if it was just to argue, something you did a lot as kids — Can we make peace, pretty please? Go back to the way things used to be?
You hesitate for a moment before letting a small smile slip.
— Like the old times, huh?
— But this time, I really wanna kiss you — Jisung whispers in your ear, and your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest. You feel his cheek against yours, and if you don't answer him soon, you might just pass out.
— Andy...
— Keep calling me like that, and I'll kiss you right here, not giving a fuck about your brother and my best friend — He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, leaving you dizzy with his scent filling the room, making it hard to breathe. You muster up the courage to speak, looking into his eyes.
— When did you get this big boy energy?
— I don't know, but you better enjoy it, cutie.
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runa-falls · 10 months
Note
Soo, (reffing to fluffer ff) how do you think the boys would react if they couldn't request you because you're working with somebody else or if they see you working with someone else?
ooooh shitttttt 🫢 alright, let's explore that shall we?
a/n: uhhh….i’m so sorry that this took so long omg 😭 i love you nonnie, i just forgor~ i'm making a second part to this where they find out reader was an amateur porn star before she became a fluffer :3 it's mostly all smut ngl, so anyway...
cw: explicit smut w/ jake only.. sry marc/steven hoes (18+), jealous!marc [angst, fluff], soft!steven [fluff[, out-of-pocket!jake [straight smut], inaccurate depiction of sex work, dirty talk, not proof-read!!
w/c: 1.7k [my baddd]
Fluffing for Others:
Being a fluffer was your job before you met the boys and you continued to do it after. The thing is, after you met the boys, you were so busy working with them that your already limited work schedule had no space for other clients.
But occasionally, one of your earlier clients will request you months in advance for a big project, and you have no reason to decline them (that is, until the boys convince you to stop working).
Marc [slight angst, fluff]:
"Sorry baby, I can't make it Tuesday, I have another client--"
Marc was just telling you about his next production that's set to film in the next few days.
Of course, he springs the gig on you just as it's about to happen.
He always does this, assuming you'd be free, and happy to join him. He never gives you more than a week to prepare, and usually you're fine with it. But this time, you're busy.
"Wait, another client?" You nod, but he's still not getting it, like he can't believe his ears. "Like a different client? Like an 'outside of this body' client?" You sigh.
Of course, he's reacting like this.
"Yes Marc, an old friend called and booked me for the week. I put it on the joint calendar, didn't you see it?" His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words. "He's doing a movie length exclusive, so he called way in advance."
"But...but what about me?" He pouts -- literally pouts -- as he walks closer to you, backing you against the kitchen counter.
You raise a brow, "What about you?"
"What am I gonna do?" His hands hold you by the waist, pulling you close while he nuzzles his nose against your neck. He does this when he's trying to comfort himself -- buries his face against your body and holds you close.
He's so dramatic.
"Don't be so whiney, Marc. A girl's gotta work too." He hmphs in discontent as he hoists you onto the edge of the counter. You loop your arms around his neck easily and make him look at you. His soft brown eyes shyly meet yours, "I don't complain when you fuck your co-workers."
"That's--"
You send him a warning look, "I swear to god if you say it's different..."
"No, you're right, honey..." He's sheepish when he looks at you, realizing how his jealousy got the best of him once again. "I just...want you all to myself sometimes." You peck him on the cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, suppressing a smile as he leans into you with a sigh. He's so easy.
"I'm yours, baby." His hands squeeze at your waist at those words. He loves hearing you say that. Loves that you're here in his kitchen, always ready to receive his needy affection.
"So... are you free next week?"
You snort.
"Marc, you can't keep moving your productions for me. You could always find another back-up fluffer..."
"Not doing it without you." He mumbles, lips brushing against yours.
You lean into him and your noses nudge against each other. You're not quite kissing him, but when you're looking into his eyes like this, it feels just as intimate.
"Yeah, I'm free."
He grins, "Good. It's a date." He captures your lips in his and you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer.
---
Steven [fluff!]:
Telling Steven was pretty easy. He knew about it before you even told him, seeing it on the 'family calendar' that you forced each boy to join.
"You need a ride to production Monday? I could call you an early cab as we don't have a car and all. Don't want you to have to catch the bus."
Steven is lying next to you, having woken up in the body this morning. He's always been more of a morning person compared to the other boys, despite looking perpetually tired.
"Aw, thanks honey, but I'm fine. Their sending a company car since it's such a long filming schedule." You snuggle up closer to him, craving his warmth from the morning coolness that blows through the flat. He lets you settle against him, wrapping an arm around your torso.
"A company car? ...fancy."
"Anything is fancier than our usual walk and transit ride." You giggle against the thin fabric of his shirt, slightly muffling your words with how closely you cling to him.
Steven is dressed in Marc's pajamas: a tight undershirt and briefs, clothes you rarely get to see Steven in when he's fronting. Usually, he prefers looser clothing made of soft and comfy materials.
You can't complain though. Seeing Steven (unintentionally) show off his built body while acting all cozy and sweet makes you heat with want.
"You don't mind I'm working for other clients again?"
He tilts his head as if he's just now considering it.
"No, why would I? It's your job, just like how I have mine."
You pause, surprised by how cool he is with it.
"Oh...yeah."
“I actually thought you'd be doing this more often..." You look up at him, meeting his soft and sleepy gaze, "I mean, I thought everyone would be requesting you." He whispers, unsure if you'd appreciate his comments.
You hum, "I only had one company that hired me as a general assistant and only three regulars." You smile at him, remembering the first time you met him, "But then I met you guys, and you took over my whole life."
"...Then we met you, and now you're our life." Your heartbeat picks up at his words. It feels like something is squeezing at your chest in the most pleasant way possible.
Steven never realizes how poet and sweet he can be. You truly believe he just says whatever is on his mind.
"But you still work, and I still need to work..."
"You’re so beautiful, sweetheart, anyone would be lucky to be in your presence, let alone touched by you.”
You bite your bottom lip, hard.
How can he say such wonderful things? Make you feel so tender and loved that you could fall apart under his gentle gaze?
Intense emotions tighten in the back of your throat and all you can do is hold him closer, clutch him until he can feel what you're unable to voice.
"I love you, Steven. You know that right?" It's barely rasped out, but he hears it.
"Of course, darling." He pecks the top of your head, "You know I love you more, though."
A smile pulls at your lips, "Impossible. I love you so much you can't even comprehend it."
He chuckles before offering his rebuttal, "Well actually..."
---
Jake (NSFW 18+):
Jake took it as well as you thought he would...
His hand squeezes lightly at the sides of your throat, testing the waters as he continues to rapidly thrust into you. You wince as his fingers dig into the fresh bruises that he suckled into your skin earlier.
“Bet they wish they could fuck you like this...feel you quiver around their cock," You groan as he angles his cock to drag against the walls of your cunt, expertly nudging against that explosive spot inside of you. "But they can’t, because your mine, right honey?”
You nod wordlessly, barely able to comprehend what he said.
He buries himself deep inside of you with a huff and holds himself there until you're squirming under him. "Right?" He grits out, frustrated with your lack of response.
Your body shakes as his cock continues to press flush against the back of your cunt, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure all over. You feel so full, completely stretched, and filled to the brim; you can barely move without crying out.
"Yes, yes, please, Jake, I'm yours--"
He pulls out briefly before swiftly pushing back in and it feels like you had the wind knock out of you. "That's right, baby, take it. Show 'em who you belong to."
You shutter out breathes as he works himself into your body, holding you down so you can't move a muscle without him knowing. Sloppy sounds remind you just how needy you are for him, how much you love it when he treats you like this.
Jake lets you go and work for clients, but he'll be damned if you go without his mark on you. Without a physical reminder that you're his.
It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just doesn't trust them.
You're the perfect woman, someone he couldn't resist when he was just a client to you. So how can he be sure your other clients won't try to woo you like he did?
"Fuck, honey," He growls, grinding his hips against yours, wanting to be as close to you as possible so he can cum deep inside of you. "You're so good to me, letting me do this when you gotta be on set in an hour..."
Your head is tilted back, and eyes are closed tight as you desperately try to hold back your orgasm, waiting for him. You whine as he rubs your clit, legs trembling around him.
"Please, Jake, cum for me...c-cum inside..."
"You gonna keep it all in for me, baby? Keep me stuffed inside of you as you jerk some loser off?" You cry, clenching around him as he coos at you, unable to hold back anymore.
"Mm... that’s right, honey, let go. Go ahead, soak me." He grunts when he feels you flutter around him and pushes in deeper, enjoying how tight you get when he talks dirty to you.
You writhe pathetically under him as you ride out your high, whimpering as he sharply fucks a few last thrusts into you before painting your walls with warmth. He fills you so much it starts to drip out of you as he pulls out.
His fingers push it back in before anymore could escape and ruin the couch under you. He hums thoughtfully as he fingers you, making sure you're all filled up for the day.
"Looks like you're ready for work." His eyes drift over your lust bitten lips, the marks covering your neck, and the mess at the center. He smirks, proud of his work.
"Thanks, baby." You smile sweetly.
You really do have the best boyfriends in the world...
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nonotnolan · 3 months
Text
The Ends Justify The Means
As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman
"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."
Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.
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I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.
Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."
"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"
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"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."
I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.
"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."
----------------------------------------------
"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.
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"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.
Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."
I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.
"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.
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Text
Yandere Male Monster Musume: Feeding The Beasts Pt. II
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“Today is my day!!!!”
A collective groan came from everyone who clutched their pillows as they stuffed their faces in hopes of silencing the harpy’s cheers. Since before the sun had risen Pypi was especially vocal about it being his day. Shouting it from the top of his lungs as he triumphantly shouted into his monster roommate's ears while you groggily left Milo’s room for Pypi’s. 
As per the schedule—your newest attempt at combatting their violent battles for your attention—it really was Pypi’s day for you to spend rime with. You let his early excited fluttering about your renovated home continue as you slept in for as long as you could…before Pypi came to shoot you awake. 
“Come on, (Y/n)! Are you going to waste my day sleeping!?”
You groaned, pulling the covers up to hide yourself from Pypi. Nuzzling into the softness of Pypi’s bed when the harpy pulled away to pout quickly switching to a face of pure happiness. 
“Unless (Y/n) would rather spend the whole day sleeping together? I’d love to do that!”
“Ah-okay! I’m up, I’m up!” 
“Awww.”
Carrying out your morning routines side by side you two ended up in the living room to stand in silence. When you confirmed that it was Milo’s day he rushed off immediately with a plan for what he wanted to do, you were waiting for that same thing. But it didn’t seem it’d be the same with Pypi.
“...”
“...”
“...So uh Pypi what do you want to do?”
“Hmmmm I don’t know!”
“You don’t know?”
“Nope!”
“Well didn’t you have a plan for when we spent time together?”
He pouted as he crossed his wings, “Well I did suggest we stay in bed and–”
“WE ARE NOT DOING THAT!”
“Well…I don’t know what else we can do.”
“You don’t?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Okay then how about–”
_____________________________________________
“This–is–the—best—time—-in—my–-life!”
“It—is—right?”
Thankfully the great thing about the harpy-monster type was that being childish ran through his veins. Thus jumping on the bed like absolute hooligans works perfectly well as an activity together that didn’t include…something that will get you arrested. But like a child his attention was short.
“I’m bored now.”
“Huff~A-already but we—were having such fun!”
“It’d be more fun if we took off our clothes!”
“Aaaalright on to the next activity! Ever tried checkers?”
_______________________________________________
Board games and pieces sprawled across the floor before your exhausted for, while Pypi played solo with a game console on the couch. You only looked up after you hear the halted clacking of hooves that only spoke of Centoreo coming near. 
“Master (Y/n)? Are you alright, you look exhausted although I’m certain you should have gotten to sleep in today?”
You groaned, “It never stops. His energy…and I can hardly keep his attention from doing anything other than the—’s’ word we shall not speak of.”
Centoreo nodded in understanding, flashing a tentative cerulean gaze to the harpy grossly absorbed in the game. 
“Right…but it seems you’re mostly unscathed. Which is more than can be said with a certain wormlike resident.” He whispered the last part with a shudder as you stifled a chuckle. 
“That is true…but I have the sneaking suspicion he’s up to something…I just don’t know–”
“What it is? Well it better not be sex!” 
“S-smith?!” “Y-you!?”
The agent leaned on you obnoxiously forcing you to unsuccessdully push him off as he talked.
“Yup so what’s for dinner darling? Since you’re all tuckered out from not-having-sex are you doing take out?”
“For your information–”
Suddenly a gust of fierce winds assaulted your face and Smith’s, causing you both to look up at the perpetrator. Centoreo was reaching for the phony sword he kept at his side but even he was late to draw before the harpy.
“NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR! (Y/N) IS MINE! ALL MINE SO DON’T BOTHER US!”
Before you realized it the window had broken and you were so far off the ground the lights of your suburbia were simple flickers. Despite the talonned grip on your shoulder you felt more comfortable holding tight. You tried to speak to the one in charge of your flight but the wind whipping in your face wasn’t helping in the slightest so you swallowed your questions as Pypi flew further into the night. 
_________________________________________________
“N-no this isn’t the right place! Stupid! Stupid!”
Pypi’s squealing falling upon no one but your own as you clinged to him on the peak of a sky scraper in the city. He was mad at himself. Banging the tip of his wings into his head as he fought tears.
“W-why i-is this the wrong place? I-it’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”
You clinged to him more than aware of the dangerous situation his bird brain posed once again. Having apparently forgotten that he needed to support your weight while you had your arms wrapped around his neck. It surprised you how sturdy he was being able to withstand your own weight before he properly held you against him, cradling your bottom with his wingspan. 
He sniffled into your neck,”I-i keep forgetting—to bring you to the place I meant to! And its all cause I’m such a–”
“H-hey no need to beat yourself up! You’ll remember…eventually?”
You tried to pull your best main character pick-me-up tone as you as quickly as you could bare to pat his back. That seemed to do the trick as he squeezed you tightly against his chest as he looked out at the city from behind your back.
“Y-yeah a-and at least I get to spend my day with you!” 
“Y-yeah now can we please go home I-I’m sure everyone is hungry.”
“Well hopefully they can all die on Milo’s cooking while we eat out!” 
“Pypi!”
“Fine. I know you didn’t bring your wallet so that plan was bogus anyway!” 
“Uggh!”
 You hated how much you agreed with him but at the very least you got some insight. No doubt this wasn’t the same type of fulfillment Milo was seeking but it seemed to work on nonetheless…kinda....
Next was Centoreo, but you don’t have to worry he’s guaranteed to be a breeze. More so than Pypi could ever pretend to be.
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onevolon · 1 month
Text
clandestine
Duke Leto Atreides x afab!reader
summary: Looking for a suitor for your sister. Arrangement are being made for a ball. Every planet is invited. He is invited.
word count: 1,628
warnings: this was supposed to be a smut but whoopsss fluffy angst it is
you can also read it on ao3.
masterlist
The wine tasted bitter on your tongue. Early drinking was not a usual habit of yours but today was different.
Marriage. It is a foreign concept to you, much to your advisors’ dismay. It is frowned upon to be a queen without a husband in many planets, of course, but not in yours. No, this is your blood right. As it was written in the legends. The power you hold cannot be shared with a man.
Your little sister, on the other hand, had a much different destiny to be uphold. She had to be wedded. Soon. As it was written…
Now, it was your duty to look for a suitor for your little sister. There had to be a ball to be thrown. Every royal man of age was invited to the ball. From every planet.
Including Caladan.
The preparations were suffocating you to the point of madness. Yes, the preparations… Everything had to be perfect.
“Is the dress to your liking, my queen?”
“Yes, it’s fine…”
“How about your hair? I warned them not to make it too tight this time specifically, as you requested.”
“It’s alright.”
“…If you don’t mind me asking, my queen, what is bothering you?”
“Hmm?”
“Just… You seem… thoughtful.”
You take a gulp from your wine. Is it wise to talk about this? After all, she is my right-hand for a reason. Maybe… one person knowing this would be beneficial for you and finally ease your mind…
“I-“
There is a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“All the guests have arrived, my queen. They are resting in their chambers for now.”
“Good. We shall start the festivities when the sun is down.”
The man bows and exits the room.
“Where is my sister. I would like to speak with her before the gathering.”
“She’s getting ready, my queen. The bathing ritual just started. Everything is according to the schedule.”
Yes, everything is as it’s planned. The ballroom is set. My sister is alright. People from near and far travelled to attend. They all are here.
He’s here.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes.
He is here for his son, you remind yourself.
This is going to be a long evening.
**
With the cue from the orchestra, the doors are open and both you and your sister come into view. The whole room goes quiet, only the instruments are heard. And maybe your heartbeats.
It’s absolutely maddening that you are more nervous than your sister. She looks so calm and collected while everybody is trying to get a look of her.
Soon to be bride. Something inside you saddens. Your little, precious sister…
The music gets quiet. You must focus.
“Greetings and welcome! It is such an honor to see you all here today. Please do enjoy the food and the music. Let’s celebrate this happy day together and shall your visit be fruitful!”
While everybody is cheering, you can feel your speechwriter’s eyes on you, sending daggers for cutting his well-written script short.
You could care less right now.
“Shall we sit now?” you sigh.
“Are you okay, sister? You seem off.”
“For the last time, you should address me properly in public. Especially today, sister.” you smirk slightly.
“Oh, give me a break.” you give her a side-eye “…my queen. I’m about to be thrown into the lion's den. It’s a miracle I didn’t have a nervous breakdown yet.”
“You and me both…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
You both finally sit to your table and everybody starts to eat.
**
After all the tables are cleared, everybody gathers to dance. As you make your way around the room to welcome everyone again and thank them for attending, some are introducing their candidates to you and some are eager to talk to your sister first. Old and young, so many people…
This was overwhelming.
“That was a nice speech, my queen.”
His voice… still sends shivers to your spine after all these years.
You turn around to scold him for teasing you.
Then you see his son.
And his concubine.
“And it is nice to see you, my duke.”
“We’ve already talked to your sister but I wanted to introduce my son to you personally.”
Ever the diplomatic, you think to yourself.
“This is Paul Atreides. The future of House Atreides and Caladan.”
“It is an honor to meet you, your grace.”
He looks like his mother.
“The honor is mine. How do you find your visit so far?”
You try to ignore both parents’ stares.
“It’s absolutely perfect here. Everything is breathtakingly beautiful…” he says, sending a look to your sister discreetly.
Your stomach drops.
“I’m glad you like it. If you’ll excuse me…”
Without a second look, you cautiously get away from them, grabbing a glass of whatever the waiter was serving at the moment.
You need to breathe.
**
The wind was blowing your hair gently. The stone bench you were sitting was cool to the touch. You took slow deliberate inhales to think clear. To make it make sense of your sudden action. Why were you so upset?
You sigh and close your eyes, trying to listen the calming sounds of the environment.
You hear footsteps.
“Whoever you are, you shouldn’t be here. This is a private section of the garden.”
“My apologies. Just wanted to make sure that you are all-right.”
Your eyes snap open.
He followed you.
“Is your wife okay with that?” you say, a little passive-aggressive.
He comes closer to you and stops at your side.
“We can invite her, too, if you like.” he says looking at you with a knowing expression “And you know she is not my wife.”
You don’t know how to handle his directness.
Not anymore, you don’t.
So, you change the subject.
“Your son has grown a lot since-“
“His birth. Yes, it tends to happen.” He chuckles.
You roll your eyes to his antics.
“I am trying to make a conversation here, you know.”
“I know… I’m sorry. It’s always been so easy to rile you up.”
You glare at him.
“You don’t know me.”
His face drops a little.
You can’t look at it. Change the subject.
“I’ll talk to my sister about Paul, soon. It seems like he’s smitten but her decision will be what is final.” You want to slap yourself.
He stays quite for a while. You can feel that his eyes have not left your face.
“And what do you think?”
“About?”
“About them… Being together.”
You don’t know what to say.
“Because I don’t even like the idea of it.”
“What, you think I would make a bad relative?” You joke slightly, not to overthink his meaning.
“No… it’s because I want you all to myself.”
 Your heart flips.
“Leto-“
He touches your face and your eyes find his.
“My sweet... Your beauty always mesmerizes me.”
His eyes… So sincere.
You panic.
“You cannot say things like that… You can’t expect me to- What do you expect me to do?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Nothing has changed since we were…”
“Some things have changed… I don’t care anymore.” He says triumphantly.
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t care about what I have to do to satisfy others’ needs and before you interrupt, you know that I’m not saying this as a leader.”
You stay quiet and follow his determined eyes with yours.
“I don’t know about you but I refuse to believe that it is my destiny to be filled with sorrow until the end of my days. So, to achieve true happiness, I must focus on what I can do to get what I want. And what I want is to be able to choose to love freely without being concerned about what they would think.”
He sighs and sits right beside you, taking your hands in his.
“I know it’s been years but I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”
You hold your breath.
“I never stopped loving you, my dove.”
A tear drops to your face. He lifts a hand and brushes it away with his thumb.
“We were so young… So scared to stand up for ourselves.” He says still caressing your cheek. “But we don’t need to fear no more. They will fear us.”
This must be a dream.
To convince yourself that it’s real, you turn your head and kiss his palm. The sweet parfum on his wrist engulfs your senses.
He turns your head to him and kisses you.
“Do you reciprocate my love?” he whispers against your lips.
You nod, still crying.
“My sweet…”
His lips are soft against yours while his tongue starts to dance slowly. You could feel the warmth of his body as he drew even closer. A fire brew inside of you. Both of you are desperate to make up for every second of lost time. You chocked noise escaped you as he snaked a hand under your skirt, caressing your leg. Dizzy with want you tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper locks as his lips moved down your neck. You are melting under his touch.
“Not-hmmhere… someone could…”
“Thought this section of the garden was private.” You can feel his smirk.
“That didn’t faze you, did it?”
“And aren’t you glad?” he whispered as he kissed the tear marks on your cheek.
“I am.”
You were now face to face, smiling softly.
“We should go back inside.”
“Yes, but we also need to talk about this.”
He was right, as usual.
“…Come to my chambers at dawn. You know where to find it.”
He lifted an eyebrow to that, giving you a suggestive look.
You try to ignore it.
“Everybody would be passed out drunk at that point so…”
He kisses your hand.
“I’ll be there, my dove.”
do you want a part 2 with a smut???
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sanchoi21 · 1 month
Text
Obsessed
Toji Zenin x Reader
Warning: Mentions of kidnapping, stalking and obsession. Otherwise it's fluff. Image not mine, credit goes to the artist, I just edited it a bit, if that's ok.
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You kept staring at his forest hues as you sat across him on your dinner table. You couldn't help but keep staring at him as if he was your most priced jewel.
Toji had kidnapped you after getting obsessed over you since your first meeting at the coffee shop. He kept on coming everyday, just to stare at you and order something you suggested him. Before he knew it, it had become his daily routine. That day when he saw a guy troubling you because of misplacing the orders which wasn't even your fault, he finally lost it and taught the guy the lesson that he deserved.
That very night you were kidnapped and put into a black limo which took you to a place that you weren't aware of. You were panicked and scared but when your nose caught up his familiar scent, you visibly relaxed as he drove you to his house.
He treated you gently and even apologized for his impulsive behavior, but you didn't mind it one bit. Maybe you were actually more twisted than you had originally thought.
Toji kidnapping you was the best thing that happened in your life. He definitely didn't need to know the way you had stalked him all this time to the point where you knew just about everything about him. Like where he lived, what he does in his free time or what is his schedule. He just didn't needed to know that you might as well be a former mafia gang member who had given up on her job just to take time to stalk on him. He didn't needed to know that detail, right? It was just fine the way he was obsessed with you now, sounds pretty perfect, right?
But fate had something different planned for you when he came to know your true identity. You were scared to death, what if he leaves you?? You had even planned on making him stay by tying him up in your basement. But after looking at your shocked face, Toji chuckled as he knew exactly what you had been thinking.
Toji: Wanna tie me up, love?? No problem, I might let ya, but you have to return the same favour later, got it?
You were stunned by his response at it was the least expected one. But if didn't matter, you just hugged him tightly, happy to know that he returned your obsession. But you didn't know that he had known this all this time but still remained silent and rejoiced your submission and obsession towards him.
You both are twisted in your own way, but it really doesn't matter, if it's both right??
As you kept staring at your boyfriend you wondered, what new things are you gonna do to him tonight.
Seeing you clearly lost in him, Toji chuckles and slowly moves his hand towards your face to remove the slight stain of red sauce from your lips. As his fingers quickly disappear into his own mouth, you blush and stare at him dumbfounded.
Toji: Princess, shall we get going?? I bet now it's time for you to return my favour right?
You take a hot moment to realize what favour is he talking about, but when you finally get it, you blush more and nod.
Y/n: S-sure, honey...
He lifts you up as you hug his neck, hiding your face on his shoulders. But you are sure he won't let you hide later. Because a predator always devours it's prey, no matter how strong it is.
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horanghxnni · 10 months
Text
coffee shop meet-cute. - j.w.w.
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PAIRING: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader
WORD COUNT: 3.1k
TAGS: meet cute, strangers to lovers one-shot, barista!reader, non-idol!wonwoo; pure fluff, oblivious pining
WARNINGS: mentions of food/eating; i tried my best to write as gender neutral as possible, but i haven't proofread this more than once so pls let me know if it's not; other than that none (please let me know if i've missed anything)
NOTES: this is my first post here on tumblr omg. hi! i've been a big fan of work here and i've been writing for a while (i shall not discuss my cursed wattpad days when i was younger) and thought i'd start posting here for fun. i hope you enjoy! <3
You had started working at this local coffee shop when you were 16, at first as a way to earn cash on the weekends to fund your high school escapades, and now, 7 years later, you grew to love the feeling of crafting drinks and managing the shop you now felt was like a second home. You worked every day, and opening the quaint little shop meant that the first hour or so was a quiet peace to yourself, filled with the smell of brewing espresso and baking croissants. 
The morning rush came like clockwork, beginning at 7:15 am and finally reaching a calmer pace around 8 am. Just when the busy atmosphere began to subside and the day reached its first slump, a clearly anxious man made his way to the front counter, hurriedly ordering an iced americano and holding out his card before you could even tell him how much it would cost. You rang him up, and he left the counter to stand in a corner with a polite nod to wait for his coffee, glancing at the clock. You make his simple order as quickly as possible and set it on the pickup counter, calling his name. “Wonwoo, iced americano?” 
He grabs his cup and thanks you quietly, before hurriedly leaving the shop, not even bothering to grab a straw. You don’t think too much of it and get back to filling the pastry case as the curious stranger becomes a distant memory by the end of the day. 
That is, until you notice he comes in every day, always at the same time, just before 9 am. He enters with the same kind of energy, always as if he’s perpetually running late, and orders the same thing: iced americano, and if he was feeling peckish, a blueberry muffin. He never talked much, and the only thing you knew about him other than his coffee order was that his name was Wonwoo, he seemed to have a horrible concept of time, and he must work in some office to be dressed in business casual every day. This Groundhog Day feeling encounter with him remained as a growing routine for you, until 3 weeks later when you began to anticipate his arrival, and you had his order ready and waiting for him by the time he reached the counter. Your interaction grew more efficient as time passed, with a single swap of his debit card for his coffee, and his transaction down to 30 seconds, handing him back his card in record timing. You figured it was helping him, right? He was late to work, or something time-sensitive at least, and you made his caffeine pit-stop easier. It was a win-win: you gained another regular, and he got his coffee without hindering his morning. 
He ruined your flow one Wednesday afternoon. Once again, he arrived just before 9 am, but he walked in much slower this time, and he was wearing much more casual clothes, a faded gray t-shirt and jeans, a brown messenger bag slung on his shoulder. As usual, his coffee was already done, and you almost dropped a tray of apple tarts as he entered almost as an entirely different person. You set them in the pastry case with renewed care, and met him at the register. 
“Not in a rush this morning?” You asked, clearly confused but friendly, as you pushed his cup towards him. 
He chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes roved over the rows of pastries and sandwiches you had displayed. “Nope, we started a hybrid schedule so I’m working from home on Wednesdays.” He met your eyes for a moment before shifting back to the sweets, thinking. “I’m thinking about trying something new, what do you recommend?” 
It took you a moment before you adapted to the fact that you’d heard more than two words from him. His voice was smooth and deeper than you expected, and it seemed to sink into your bones. “Um, well the apple tarts are new, and we make pop tarts in house.” 
He nodded and took one more glance before meeting your eyes. “I’ll take one of each, for here.” He gave you a small smile and slid over his debit card, once again catching you off guard. For here? He was staying? You nodded silently and began to warm his sweets as you rang him up. He thanked you and took back his card, settling in a seat a few feet down the counter, pulling out his laptop and beginning to type quietly. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him as you made his little pastry plate, not used to his presence. You were so used to his rush of energy that seeing him so still and calm was confusing. You decided just before you gave him his plate that you’d slip a cake pop next to the tart, you had made extras today anyway. With a nod, you place it beside his laptop and don’t even wait for an acknowledgement, leaving the pretty stranger to his work and busying yourself with cleaning some dirty cups from earlier this morning and wiping down the counters. 
“The poptart is good. Do you make them yourself?” His voice cut through the quiet lo-fi music playing over the speakers as you paused from your cleaning. You turned to see him already looking at you, the half-eaten poptart in his hand. 
You nodded and put down the rag in your hand. “Yeah, every morning. The flavor changes depending on what fruit I can get my hands on.” You see him nod in approval, and he sets it down on his plate as he turns his full attention to you. 
“Thank you for the cake pop. And for making my coffee so quickly every day, it really helps me out.” He appears more bashful now, almost bordering embarrassed, as his cheeks flush an almost imperceptible pink. “I know I seem pretty pressed for time most mornings.” 
You laugh at his comment, thinking back to the quiet whirlwind of his stressed aura that appears in the shop every day. “Of course, I don’t want to make you any later than you already seem to be.” You pause for a moment before speaking again, wondering if you should ask the innocent question in your mind. He seems open to conversation, and it’s not like anyone else was demanding your attention at the moment. “Where do you work anyway?” 
“Oh, I work at the Pledis building, I’m a writer there for content creation. I’m not technically late ever, but I like to get there at a certain time and I definitely overestimate the time I need to commute.” He answers sheepishly, and you smile. A writer for such a big company? Impressive. 
You spoke for a little bit longer before another rush began, learning he’d been working at Pledis for a few years now, and his friend Joshua had recommended this coffee shop to him a few months ago, but he hadn’t had the chance to come until a few weeks ago. Of course your favorite regular would have pushed him here, and little details seemed to fit into place as your small chats throughout the few hours he remained at the bar revealed more and more about each other. Around 4 pm, he left with a wave, trying his best not to distract you too much. You waved back, and with an offhanded, “See you tomorrow!”, he left the cafe, the door jingling behind him. 
_____________ 
The next morning, Wonwoo surprised you again. He came in at 8:30, standing at the register while you finished the last of the morning rush orders, you hadn’t even seen him walk in. You turned to take the order only to see a face that wasn’t supposed to be here for another 20 minutes. 
“Oh, you’re here early! I’m sorry, I haven't made your coffee yet.” Of course you hadn’t. You had timed your routine almost down to the second, and he had thrown off your entire groove. He simply smiled and shook his head. 
“It’s okay, I have some time this morning. I’ll get my usual and another poptart, it doesn't matter the flavor.” He points to the plate and pulls out some cash. “You can keep the change.” Wonwoo, without another word, moves to where he sat the day before, settling in and pulling out his phone. 
You make his coffee and warm his poptart, placing it in a to-go sleeve, placing both in front of him. “So, I finally get my routine down with you and you all of a sudden decide you want to switch it up?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 
He looks up from his phone, a small smile growing on his lips. “Figured if I got here a little earlier, I’d relieve you of the time constraint.” His smile shifts into a frown after a moment. “I’m sorry if it threw you off that bad, I didn’t-”
You wave a hand at him, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it, I was just messing with you.” 
His body visibly relaxes as he reaches for his coffee. “Thanks, Y/N.” You couldn’t help but grin as you hear your name in his voice, and you nod and turn before he can see just how wide your smile could get. You make small talk as he finishes his coffee and pastry, asking about his work and new recipes brewing in your head for the next 20 or so minutes before he declares he is leaving to head to work. 
“This was nice, actually sitting down before work. Maybe I’ll do this more often.” He hands you his plate as you agree, placing it in the sink to deal with later. 
“Thanks for hanging out with me this morning. You’re welcome anytime, obviously.” You say your goodbyes, and with another small smile, he leaves, and you’re left thinking of the way his smile lights up his face for the rest of the day. 
_____________ 
For the next few weeks, Wonwoo arrives around 20-30 minutes early. Your new routine involves pleasant conversation as you work, and him becoming a taste tester for new recipes before they hit the pastry case. You become used to each other’s presence, and with every new interaction, he grows more and more talkative. He tells you about frustrations from work from the day before, or a movie he had just watched over the weekend. You tell him about your roommate endeavors and outings you’d gone on recently. You consider yourselves friends at this point, and it was nice to have someone like him around when the morning felt like too much to handle. 
You had offhandedly mentioned taking a few days off one day and Wonwoo encouraged rest, but through all the chaos of pushed forward deadlines at work, he had completely forgotten until he arrived at the cafe one morning to see someone completely different behind the counter. He was confused to see his usual coffee was still sitting waiting for him in its normal place with his name on it, set aside on the counter, yet he did not recognize the barista currently finishing up a latte. As he slowly stepped up to the pickup counter and grabbed his drink, the employee looked up and met his gaze. 
“Oh, you must be Wonwoo. There’s your iced americano, there’s a muffin in the bag beside it.” His demeanor was nonchalant, as he placed the other drink on the counter and called out the order. 
“Is Y/N not in today?” It was the first thing he could think of, despite the answer being obvious. 
The younger boy looked up from his work. “No, they're off all week. They left me a note saying a guy named Wonwoo would come in at 8:30 and that was your usual.” He shrugged and looked down again at his brewing espresso shots. “I guess that’s you. I’m Chan, I usually work afternoons but I’m covering for Y/N this week.” 
Wonwoo nods, still processing what he had just heard. Y/N’s gone all week? Why hadn’t they said anything? He suddenly felt stupid as he remembered a conversation from two weeks ago, where Y/N finally decided the week they would take a solo trip to Jeju to visit their grandmother: this week. “Right. Thanks, Chan.” 
Chan nods back at him and Wonwoo leaves the cafe still in a semi-daze after setting down some cash, suddenly feeling as if he was thrown off balance, an unfamiliar budding feeling of disappointment settling deep in his chest. He makes his way to work, suddenly feeling like his predictable coffee didn’t taste the same. 
The rest of his work day was surprisingly only getting worse: he had printed the wrong files, was late to a meeting he was supposed to lead, and currently Joshua was trying (and failing) to speak to him about a conference they were attending the following month as Wonwoo unintentionally tuned him out. Suddenly, he felt a light shove of his shoulder pull him out of his trance.
“Dude, what is wrong with you? Have you heard anything I said?” Joshua raised an accusatory eyebrow at his friend and coworker. Wonwoo’s eyes suddenly gained focus as he looked up to see Joshua leaning against his desk. 
“I-” he attempted to think of an excuse, “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted, my whole day feels thrown off.” He frowned and turned his chair toward the other man. “What were you saying?” 
Joshua’s mouth crept into an almost dangerous smirk as he took a glance at Wonwoo’s still full coffee cup, an unfamiliar handwriting scrawling his name on the top. “You didn’t see Y/N this morning.” 
Wonwoo almost choked on his own spit. “What? How- how do you know that?” 
The older boy rolled his eyes and pointed to the cup. “That’s not Y/N’s handwriting. I see them before you do most mornings, and they're not in town. They told me last week. I thought you knew.” 
“I did know, I just forgot, with everything going on at work.” Wonwoo couldn’t help but frown. Had not seeing them really thrown him off that much? “What does not seeing them have to do with anything though?” 
Joshua scoffed. “Dude, every time you come from that cafe, you walk in like you just won the lottery, and you see them every day. You like them, don’t you?” 
It was the last part that struck Wonwoo to his very core. He’d never even considered that to be an option before. Sure, Y/N was stunning, and kind, and he’d found great company in the barista, but like them? Romantically? Maybe it was more possible than he imagined. His face seemed to drop, as Joshua laughed at his rapid change in expression. 
“It’s okay if you do. They seem to make you happy. I think you should go for it.” With a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat, Joshua claps his friend on the shoulder before leaving his desk to return to his own, as Wonwoo’s brain settles on entertaining this thought that seems to bloom an unfamiliar feeling in his chest, replacing the heavy stone of disappointment from earlier. 
_____________
You were back after a relaxing few days with your grandmother, spending time in the sun and looking out on the ocean. Although the time off was needed, you couldn’t help but think about not only your cafe, but a specific regular you hadn’t seen since last week. You hoped Chan had made his usual for him as she said on the note, and you were excited to catch up with Wonwoo about the last week, and honestly, just to see him again. Spending the last few days without seeing each other triggered the realization that he was more special to you than you had initially thought, and though he may not feel the same, you were content with the friendship you had formed already. 
You opened the cafe without issue, and a sense of calm washed over you as you fell back into your routine. The morning rush felt like a breeze as you fell into a groove and before you knew it, 8:30 rolled around and the man you’d been thinking of walked through the door. He was early, as he now often was, but his anxious energy was back. He stepped up to the counter as you handed him his coffee, a fresh pop tart on a plate sliding his way as well. 
“It’s on the house today. I’m sure you missed my magic touch last week.” You joked, your smile widening. His mouth opened before it shut once more, mirroring your grin as he said a quiet thank you as he took his seat. You caught up on missed stories, with mostly you telling stories of your vacation as he sat quietly and listened as you multitasked. It wasn’t until you asked him a question and received no answer that you looked up at him from the espresso machine to see him simply staring at you. “Wonwoo?” 
You saw his eyes clear as his face rapidly turned a deep shade of red. “I’m sorry, I was listening. I just-” He paused, and your brows furrowed. 
“Are you alright?” You asked, putting down the espresso shot and giving him your full focus. 
“Do you want to, maybe, go to dinner sometime?” His eyes couldn’t meet yours at first, until suddenly the dark brown of his irises met yours and you melted at the adoration you felt behind his gaze. 
“Wonwoo, are you asking me on a date?” You couldn’t believe this was happening. You watched his cheeks redden further as he nodded and you couldn’t help the way you seemed to beam at him. “I’d like that very much. Maybe this Saturday, if you’re free?” 
You watched the anxiety leave his body in an instant as he agreed. He handed you his phone as he stood up, coffee cup and plate now empty. “Put your number in and I’ll call you?” 
You punched your contact information in and handed him the phone in exchange for his dishes, and watched as he clumsily pushed in his seat and grabbed his things. “Have a good day at work, Wonwoo. It was nice to see you.” 
“It was good to see you. I’ll call you later tonight, if that’s okay.” You nodded and if he smiled any wider, he thought his lips might start to crack. With one last goodbye, he left out the door, and his eyes didn’t leave your beautiful face through the window until he lost line of sight.
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eepwriting · 18 days
Text
Strawberry Lip Balm ✶ IV x GN! Reader
Warnings: drinking, kissing
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚
You had met iv through a friend of a friend. He slightly scared you at first, his mysterious nature and general presence making you nervous. Until he finally came up to talk to you, stating that his shyness usually came off the wrong way sometimes. You could tell he was nervous as well, his eyes never staying on yours long and his speech somewhat rushed.
The two of you had been invited to a small gathering of friends and acquaintances, which allowed you to talk to other people if things got too awkward between you and your new mystery friend. His small glances in your direction didn’t go unnoticed and you made an effort to smile at him if you caught his gaze. You’d like to think he was blushing under that mask of his. You were intrigued by him and found yourself wanting to know him, hoping he thought the same about you.
The night slowly died down, people leaving every 10-15 minutes as it got later. You excused yourself to the restroom, not wanting to leave before using it. IV noticed and stood up from his seat rather quickly.
“I’ve got to go too. I’ll walk you there.” He reached your side.
You smiled slightly. “Oh thanks!”
He led you out of the room and down a short hallway, stopping in front of a door on the left.
“Here’s one.” He slightly pointed into the dark room. “I’ll go use the one upstairs but I’ll meet you down here?”
“Oh, uh yeah.” You give him a laugh and smile before making your way into the restroom and closing the door behind you.
IV is out in the hall, his back against the wall in a casual lean when you open the door. He immediately straightens up when he sees you and by the way his eyes crinkle, you can tell he’s smiling at you. You smile back and step fully out into the walkway.
“So, uh I wanted to talk to you more tonight but it’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you out. Is there a chance we could meet again and get to know each other better?” His eyes stare into yours.
You silently cheer in your head, as you’ve waited all night for him to ask you a question like that. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Is tomorrow night okay? I’ve got kind of a crazy schedule.” You hope you don’t sound too excited.
“Tomorrow night is perfect. I know a nice pub not far from here if you’re okay with drinking?” The smile you wish you could see returns to his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” You say, in an attempt to sound cool and casual. The alcohol will surely help to soothe the nerves you’ll most definitely have.
“Great. Uh, could I get your number? I’ll send you the address and we can meet there?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket.
The two of you exchange numbers, you sending a small “hi :)” text to him to make sure he’s got the right number and pick a time to meet. You’re sad to leave, wanting to just talk now but he is right, it’s getting late and you have work in the morning.
The day goes by in a blur. All you can think of is your little “date” with iv later, if that’s even what it is. You’re excited about the idea of getting to know him, to figure him out. When you get home from work, you take a quick shower and pick a simple but somewhat dressier outfit. You knew the place iv had picked wasn’t the fanciest but you still wanted to look nice.
You called a ride, knowing it wouldn’t be smart to drive home tonight. Out of nervousness, you called your ride early and arrived at the pub way earlier than the planned meeting time. You wanted a second to scope the place out, maybe get one drink in to calm down.
When the car pulls up to the sidewalk, you’re surprised to see iv standing outside. You tip the driver and push open your door. A small chuckle leaves your mouth as you walk up to him. “I guess we both had the same idea?”
He looks just as surprised as you and laughes. “I guess we did.” His head snaps to the side slightly. “Shall we head in?”
The pub wasn’t too busy, mostly full of what you assumed were regulars based on the way they chatted with the bartenders. It was still early in the night so you wanted a table before it got too crowded. It was your pick, settling on a booth in the far corner of the pub. Before iv sat down he got your drink order and excused himself, coming back a short time later with your drink of choice and his. He sat down across from you and lifted his mask slightly to take a sip of his drink.
“This is a nice place.” You said, setting your forearms on the table and leaning forward slightly.
“It’s not bad. Perhaps not my first choice but it’s homey.” He matches your position.
The conversation starts off surface level. Basic interests and dislikes. You know, favorite movie, color, food, 20 questions. IV gets up periodically to get refills and by the hour you’re pleasantly tipsy and not so nervous. IV is a great listener and is pleasant to talk to, always seeming genuinely interested in what you’re saying.
Having left to get another drink, he reaches the side of the table and instead of sitting across from you, scoots in next to you. Jokingly, he pushes up against you, crowding you against the wall. “Oops, just wanted to sit next to you. A little more crowded in here, wanna be able to hear you.” He laughs and lets his knee rest against yours.
He slides your drink over to you. His arm swings up and around your shoulders, his hips slide forward in the seat, body in a comfortable slouch. His other arm rests on the table, his fingers drawing shapes on his frosty glass. You internally scream. He’s closer now, touching you. He smells good and looks good. He’s showing his goofy side.
“So, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.” He looks over at you.
You smile slightly, your shoulders coming up in a small shrug. “I don’t think anything I tell you would be all that interesting.”
“Oh come on. Everything about you is interesting.” He scoots closer, if that’s even possible.
His one question opens up a giant pool of conversation. You open up and tell him about some of your insecurities and some of your more unpleasant thoughts. The whole time he listens intently, giving you his undivided attention. It’s nice. To have someone who just listens. He doesn’t try to offer solutions, just gives you an ear. He opens up as well. Letting you see a little more of him and who he is. You’re grateful that he’s letting you in.
More drinks and more conversation ranging from deep to insightful to funny fill the next hour.
“These drinks are running through me. So, excuse me.” You jokingly poke and prod at his side in an effort to make him move.
“I’ve got to go too. I’ll walk you there.” You laugh as you stand up. His words are the exact same as yesterday and the whole reason the two of you are here tonight.
He places his hand on the middle of your back as he guides you through the significantly busier pub. The two of you both do your business once in the restrooms and meet outside.
While on your way back to your booth, you notice 4 people had made it theirs. Luckily you had brought your drinks with you and you had wanted to stretch your legs a little anyway. “I guess they beat us to it.” IV was behind you now, his voice close to your ear as he slightly leaned against you.
“I guess so!” You yell over the music before you feel iv grab your hand. He gently pulls you back through the small crowd, stopping at a wall on the far side of the pub. Less people and not as loud. Now in front of you, your back against the cool brick wall.
“Are you having fun? I’m sorry we have to stand now.” He leans down again, his temple brushing the side of your head.
“Yeah! And it’s okay, I was getting tired of sitting.”
He pulls his head back slightly but stays close to you. His eyes are glossy and you can tell he has a lazy smile on his face. You smile back, finding his tipsy state endearing.
Taking a sip of your drink, you’re reminded of your slightly chapped lips. You wanted to reapply your lip balm before you left the restroom but it had completely slipped your mind. You unzip the small bag you had brought and pull out the tube.
You look back up at iv as you take the cap off and find him still looking down at you. He sways forward an inch before leaning close again. “What flavor is your chapstick?” You don’t miss the way his eyes continuously flick down to your lips.
“Strawberry. You want a taste?” You rub your lips together and cap the balm. You’re genuinely surprised by your boldness, thanking the drinks in your system for helping achieve what you’ve wanted to do all night.
You see iv’s jaw tense slightly before he gives you a small nod. You can’t help but let out a drunken but giddy laugh as you bring your hands up to his mask. Your fingers slowly slip under, brushing his throat and neck before you pull it up over his chin and mouth.
You barely see him smile before you bring his mouth to yours. Giving him a small peck, you pull away just slightly, looking for a reaction. IV quickly leans back in, one arm coming to rest on the wall behind you. Your second kiss lasts longer but stays relaxed. You feel him smile into the kiss before you pull away to look at him.
He laughs. “I don’t think I got a good enough taste. Could I have another?” His hands rest on your hips, giving them a small squeeze.
“I guess that would be okay.” You joke, bringing your hands up and around the back of his neck. Pulling him back down to you, giving him another taste of your strawberry lip balm.
⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚
I’ve had this idea rotting in my head for weeks now so here!!!
Once again, I apologize if this is shit.
Also, requests are open so if you want to see anything let me know!
K, bye bye.
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lundenloves · 7 months
Note
loved the post u made abt dad!simon w his daughter having a bad week. but what abt if his daughter is mentally going thru it yk? shes being distant n isolating herself the the point where her siblings are concerned
He notices due to his observant nature, though it isn’t entirely hard to not see the difference in his daughter — he sees the small things. The stack of glasses by her bed, the varying touched and untouched plates of food, how every day she got later in waking up and how school had become a past tense.
His shoulders collapsed in a sigh after you had come downstairs with dish ware juggled in your arms. “Go talk to her.”
“She won’t want—“
“Try.”
And so he would. He’d hike himself up the stairs and to her room, entering with a small knock and leaning on the doorframe waiting for her acknowledgment (and the words to work out in his head) though it never came, and the words never really did either.
So instead, he shut the door behind him. “Talk to me, kid.” while taking a seat at her desk chair, arms leant on his knees and feet wide apart from one another.
Her eye blinked a glance toward him.
“What’s wrong, eh?” The words came with a soft tone, one matching the delicacy of the situation. It made her want to breakdown, had she more energy.
“I don’t know.” It was a murmur at best.
He nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck and letting go of a long exhale. “You get this from me.”
Her brows furrowed.
Simon cleared his throat, his knee beginning to bounce without thought. “I go through days like this.” His eyes then connected with hers, trust sinking in for the time she had allowed. “I did when I was younger too. And it’s, it’s alright.”
Her nod was absent, eyes averting back to whichever brain numbing show she had been watching.
Simon swallowed. “It’s the worst when I come home from deployment.” A beat. “When there’s no schedule to follow. It fucks me over.”
“Mhm.”
He had never said these things out loud before. Ears growing darker after each word, unable to stop himself. “But it’s not always then.”
She looked at him.
“I’ll uh— sometimes I just wake up here and feel it.” He shrugged. “Which is hard.”
“What do you do to stop it.”
“Your mum is good at pulling me out of it.” He said. “The same way you are, or your sisters are,” And the anxiety in his knee stilled. “People.”
There was a brief pause of silence for his word to land. “People do it for you?” She clarified and Simon shook his head.
“You do it for them.”
Her mind pulled to all the times her dad seemed off and it was a slippery slope to say the least. But it made sense, his explanation. However many times all those years ago when she had walked into the kitchen to show him a drawing — head in his hands by the table when she had asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”
He never did (could) give her an answer at the time, but what he did provide was his best put on smile. She remembered the safety of his arms after picking her up, answering all dozen of her curious questions without a slip and suddenly,
She understood what he meant.
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idk why this turned out into… this it wasn’t supposed to be this long oh well. also like— mid but we don’t talk about that. too short for taglist, seek and thee shall find 🧙‍♂️
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