#balls have to cook sometime today too

[fooltofancy]

gonna curl up in a stupid little ball w fields of asphodel (beloved) and try to sleep, the piles of things looming can goddamn wait.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Firsts III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You lose your first tooth

The day you lose your first tooth, is the day that Momma kicks you in the face with a ball.

It's still morning. You'd spent the first half of your day at school doing Maths and German before Morsa came to pick you up. She takes you home to have lunch because she and Momma have afternoon training today.

She's actually cooking for lunch today. When you spend the whole day at school, she gives you a packed lunch with all of your favourite snack foods and some things to swap with the kids at your school. At the weekends, you don't really eat a lot until dinner so having a cooked lunch is special.

You can see here through the kitchen window as Momma chips the ball over your head.

You huff. "Momma! Stop it! I can't get it if you do that!"

"You can't save every shot, princesse," Momma reminds you like she always does when she does something like this.

You roll your eyes. "I'm only little, Momma," You say," We're only practicing." You roll the ball back to her.

Momma smiles. "Sorry, princesse. I'll make sure you can get this one."

Usually, you would be able to get it. Pernille knows the moment her foot strikes it that she's hit it too hard, hit it hard like she's at practice and is actually shooting against a professional keeper.

It's fast too and smacks you in the face before you can raise your hands to catch it. The force of it tips you back and you land on the ground with a thud.

Immediately, you burst into tears.

Pernille tries to scoop you up but you squirm away from her even as she tries to dab the blood from your mouth.

You spit

A glob of blood appears in your hand along with a tooth.

You look at it in shock. You look at Momma.

"Morsa!" You yell, running inside.

Morsa's standing over the stove, stirring a pot of boiling water and pasta. "Hmm? What is it? Have you two broken the goalposts again?"

Your goal at home wasn't a proper goal. It was made of plastic tube things that had to be slotted together. Sometimes, when you dived for the ball, you hit the posts and they got loose.

You shake your head.

"Look!"

Morsa turns to look at you before her eyebrows shoot up in shock.

There's dirt on your face and your lips are red with a little bit of blood.

"What happened to you?!"

"Momma kicked the ball at me," You whine, stamping your feet," My tooth's gone!" You hold up the glob of blood to show your tooth but Morsa seems too preoccupied with looking at your gums.

One of your canines is missing and there's a bit more blood than there should be if the tooth had just fallen out naturally.

"That looks like it hurt," Morsa says.

You nod miserably.

"Let's get something cold on that."

When it's time to leave for training you're still a little tearful and you're mourning the loss of your tooth as you stick your tongue into the sensitive bit of gum it left.

Pernille feels horrible and you absolutely refuse to let her even touch you. You stick close to Magda, who shows you and your little mouth gap off to the rest of the Bayern girls.

"You don't look happy," Georgia says as she sits next to Pernille and laces up her boots," Aren't parents meant to be super happy after their kid's teeth fall out or something?"

"It didn't fall out by itself," Pernille admits," I kicked a football at her face."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"And it knocked it straight out?"

"She bled a lot," Pernille said," And it's a little achy. She's sad."

"Well, once the tooth fairy comes, she'll be happy again."

"What's the tooth fair?"

Georgia jumps when you suddenly appear in front of them. She can see the gap in your teeth as you talk and, as Pernille said, you do seem a little sad.

You're standing in front of them but give no indication that you even know Pernille's there.

"Well..." Georgia says," It's a little fairy that collects teeth?"

"But why?"

"Er...Because she likes them?"

Your brow furrows and you cover your mouth with your hand. "Is she going to take all of my teeth?"

"No, princesse," Pernille says. Your eyes flick to her for a moment before settling on the floor," You put the tooth you lost under your pillow and she'll take it while you're sleeping."

"She'll leave money too!" Georgia says helpfully and that makes you lift your gaze, to check with Pernille that what Georgia's saying is true.

She nods. She doesn't exactly want to agree with this but at this point, anything to get you to forget that she's the reason that you've lost your tooth in the first place.

"And I put my tooth under my pillow and she comes to get it?"

"Yes."

"And she gives me money?"

"Yes."

You think for a moment, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you reach out for Pernille's hand. You yawn.

"I'm tired, Momma," You say," Can we go home now?"

Momma laughs. "Nice try, Princesse but we've still got a few more hours of training left."

You whine and groan the entire training session and it's a struggle to stop you from putting yourself to bed as soon as you get home.

You still end up going to bed earlier than usual but Pernille waits hours until she knows you're actually asleep to slip in.

"Don't give her too much," Magda says as she sits up in bed and reads through her book.

"I won't," Pernille lies.

You look adorably sweet and soft when she slips into your bedroom. Your mouth is slightly open and your face is squished against girl-moose as you cradle girl-swan close to your chest.

Pernille swaps your tooth with some money.

"All done?" Magda asks.

Pernille nods.

Magda was in for a rude awakening when you came running in the next day at dawn.

"Momma! Morsa! The tooth fairy left me ten euros!"

[inky-duchess]

Etiquette of the Edwardian Era and La Belle Époque: Ball

This is a new set of posts focusing on the period of time stretching from the late 19th century to the early 20th Century right up to the start of WWI. I'll be going through different aspects of life. This series can be linked to my Great House series as well as my Season post and Debutant post.

Let's throw a ball, my darling. It is the age of elegance and opera gloves. Etiquette during these events was as intregal as the music. So let's delve in and dance the night away.

Preparing to host a Ball

Balls in this period weren't just little get-together with a little music in the corner. These were large productions and required the entire household to pitch in. The ballroom would have to be cleaned, chandeliers would need polishing. Any large halls would need to be cleared of any furniture to accommodate a large crowd. If throwing a ball, you need to set aside more rooms than just the ballroom. You will need a room to store any cloaks, coats and hats (a valet and lady's maid would have charge of this), a room for refreshments and sometimes a room set up for any other entertainment such as cards. The dining room would also be needed for a supper (yes, suppers are expected). A ball requires the best of the best. Musicians would be hired, the kitchens will be slaving all day, butlers will be decanting the best wines and select the finest liquor, and rooms made up for anybody thinking of staying the night. The kitchens will have to prepare light snacks as well as the late supper, so everything must be cooked at exactly the right time and kept in optimum condition until needed. A red carpet would be laid from the front door right down to the pavement with an awning to keep the worst of the weather off. Invites should be sent out a few weeks prior and should attempt not to clash with any other event, you may compete who has the best ball but you should never force guests to snub another to go to your ball. Servants should be prepared for a long night, so they may dine earlier in the day to sustain them. Footmen would wait outside to open carriage doors and direct guests to the door. The butler would have to greet them, announce their arrival (not by order of rank but simply in the order they arrive) in the hall and then toward the coat rooms to relieve themselves of any coats or hats. These balls were very expensive affairs. Between food, drink, entertainment, their clothes, wages and getting their house up the snuff, a host could expect to fork out thousands if not more. Alva Vanderbilt's great costume ball cost her $6 million in today's valuation ($250,000 in her era).

The Hosts on the Night of the Ball

The hosts of the ball should be ready to recieve guests promptly. The lady of the house should be downstairs an least an hour before kickoff to check the work of the servants and provide last minute commands. The hosts would wait in the hall and greet guests. The butler will announce every guest while valets and lady's maids take charge of any coats. After guests have shed their coats, they would then greet the host, usually exchanging a few words and thanking them for the invitation before being escorted into the ballroom. The hosts would usually begin the ball themselves or if there was a guest of honour, they would allow them to open the ball. Dancing is only meant to begin with the invitation of the hosts. If there's music playing, it's not an invitation to dance. Hosts have a duty to ensure everyone is having a good time. They will be expected to dance and ensure people are partnered.

Guests

Guests are expected to arrive in a certain time frame. Balls usually begin quite late into the night, usually around 10pm. It would do no good to arrive too early and ride to arrive midway without a viable reason. There may have been a previous event, such as a theatre engagement or an opera so if you are coming from there and everybody eksevgas arrived on time and you show up late, you had best apologise. Guests must only attend if they have been invited by the hosts. You can't just rock up to a ball and expect to be admitted. If a guests wishes to have a friend who is a stranger attend the ball, they can request for the host to invite them. Guests will arrive by carriage or on foot if they live nearby. If arriving by carriage, one must allow for appropriate space between coaches and room for them to pull out. Also, it is a good idea to remind your driver when to collect you. Guests are always expected to greet the hosts as soon as they can, thank them for the invitation and be courteous at all times. Guests should not comment negatively on anything the hosts have provided such as the food or music, it's better to reserve opinion until another less public event. Guests are encouraged to mingle but strangers must be introduced by a mutual acquaintance or even the host. Wandering off through any section of the house not designated as part of the ball is prohibited as is sneaking off into the gardens. Also if one expects to stay for the night (say you live far away and have travelled to get there) you must have requested it of the host a few days at least before.

Dancing Etiquette

Dancing is one of those things in this era that isn't just a pastime but a ritual. Men asked women for the privilege of a dance, a waltz perhaps. Women would not ask a man. Women would have dance cards where gentlemen could request to partner them for certain dances. If a woman has turned down a gentleman for any reason but has no designated partner for the dance, she must sit that particular dance out. A lady should limit dances with the same partner lest it be a root of scandal: it is not considered terrible to dance two dances with the same partner but questionable if you were to dance with the same partner for multiple dances in a row. It is frowned upon for a lady to reject a dance partner when it is his honour after accepting him earlier. And also highly insulting for a man to spurn a dance partner he has sworn to dance with. It is usually customary for the man to ask whether his partner would like a refreshment, wherein he can escort her to find it. They may chat until the next dance whereupon he must excuse himself with a bow and relieve her of his company so she may dance with her next partner. When supper is announced, the last partner is ecoected to escort his lady into the dining room.

Timeline of a Ball

As stated above, Balls usually start around 10pm (but can be held earlier). Once all the guests have arrived and the hosts enter the ballroom, the dancing can go on. Around 1am there would be a light supper. Small refreshments such as canapés would be available throughout usually offered by footmen stationed around the house. Servants would stay up around the clock to unsure that everything runs smoothly, fetching drinks and later after the ball studying up. Balls would end about 3-4am, whereupon carriages would return to fetch guests and ferry them home. Guests staying would head upstairs. Anybody staying over would be treated to a breakfast in the morning.

Theme

Many balls were themed. Themed balls were usually announced months in advance to allow costumes to be made. A guest should not arrive without having paid attention to the theme as it not only can show poor time management but may be seen as an insult to the host. All guests were expected to adhere to theme where it be a "servant's ball" where they would dress as servants or even a Costume balls are all about extravagance but it's better to rein yourself in (we're side eyeing you, Kate Strong). The grandest costume ball of all time was of course Alva Vanderbilt's grand affair of March 26, 1883. Costume balls were very expensive affairs, with some guests spending up close to thousands of pounds/dollars on their looks. At one ball in 1893, the infamous Bradley-Martin affair, guests spent nearly $400,000 on their costumes - during a particularly bad financial crisis. The overall party cost $10 million.

Dressing for a Ball

Dressing as you know from the previous post is a large part of etiquette of this era. The right costume for the right event is paramount if one wants to make the right impression. Newspapers often wrote about who wore what so it was important to dress your best.

Men must wear a suit or tailcoat, always black. A ball is white tie so he must dress accordingly. He would arrive with a top hat which he would surrender to a valet. He would keep his gloves on when dancing.

Ladies are encouraged to wear a gown usually of a subtle colour with with a décolleté that leaves the upper arms snf shoulders bare. A woman's gown was important as it not only helped her stand out.

A sensible woman for goes her heels and wears pumps to dance as she will be on her feet all night.

Tiaras are beautiful but when dancing all night, it's perhaps best to pick the lightest or go for a simpler headpiece such as a feather or a broach. Wearing a heavy tiara all night while dancing will give you a migraine (it's painful).

Also it's better not to over accessorize. You don't want to be mid spin and all your pearls go scattering across the floor or catch a bracelet in your partners' jacket. Minimalism is best.

A woman may even chose to decorate her gown with fresh flowers.

How to Behave at a ball

Gloves are to be worn at all times when dancing. You only remove your handling food or playing cards. White gloves are preferred but light shades can be forgiven. Gloves for women are worn to the elbow, men's to the wrist.

No lady should arrive at a ball without an escort, either an older woman or a family member.

Men who come to the dance and are unwillingly to dance despite being able to should stay away (I'm not kidding, this is in several etiquette books)

Married couples are not expected to dance together but it is not barred.

A man should always be careful of his lady's train and that of any other. Do not stand on them.

Outward PDA is not permitted. A kiss on the hand or kiss on the cheek is permitted, as is a hand tucked into the crook of an arm but one must swing out of people.

Don't hurry onto the dancefloor (even if it is your song)

When a gentleman seats a lady at the table, he must offer her thanks for her favour.

If a lady does refuse to partner a gentleman but then dances that dance with another without prior agreement, the gentleman is expected to restrain himself from confronting her. He is permitted to never offer her a dance again if this happens.

No lady should ever be unaccompanied at any time. They should have a companion or an escort to make sure they are kept in the loop at all times.

If dancing a set, your choices must be made swiftly and wisely.

A gentleman is without saying barred from going into the women's coat room. That's a no no, stay out of there.

If a gentleman wishes to partner a woman he doesn't know, he must have a mutual friend to introduce themselves and if they don't have one, the host would be on hand to introduce them.

When attending a ball, it's better to avoid heavy topics of conversation. It's better to stick to neutral smalltalk. No party is enjoyable with people standing on soap boxes.

When dancing, good posture is not only favourable but stops the body from any undue movements.

Try not to join in when the dance is midway or almost over. Be prompt.

If your partner is missing, you should not replace them. You should sit the dance out.

The hostess is in charge of ensuring that her female guests are provided with a partner if they wish to dance and gave not been asked.

If a man accompanies a woman to the ball, he's expected to dance with her on her first and last dances of the evening.

If one invites a lady to a ball, a carriage must be provided to ferry her.

Popular dances of the era

Waltz: The Waltz is seen by many as a reserved dance nowadays but in this era it struck many as a questionable dance because of how close the couple must get. It is a simple dance, requiring 6 steps all with a "box step". It's an elegant and popular dance of the time. A gentleman or whoever is leading should place their hand on the waist of their partner and their partner should rest their hand upon their shoulder.

Cakewalk: The Cakewalk had it's beginnings with enslaved peoples on American plantations. It was a satire poking fun of white plantation owners, mimicking the way they behaved at their own balls. It was later adopted into white society who did not get the joke. It was a group dance where multiple couples set themselves in a square (men on the inside), stepping and strutting to the music. In some instances, a cake was awarded to the most impressive couple which gives the dance it's name (also because it was a piece of cake to perform). The Cakewalk is seen by many as the seed of many of the jazz dances that would dominate the 20s.

Polka: A Polish dance. It requires 3 swift steps followed by a hop. The music is at is 2/4. The couples circle about the dance floor.

Krakowiak: A Polish dance for multiple couples. The leading male dancer (from the first pair) leads the steps for all the couples, and on approach to the band must tap his geeks and sing an improvised verse to his partner, the rhythm the band must match. The couples break up to form a circle. The leading couple will remain before the band. The couples would then dance around the room during the rest of the tune.

Mazurka: This is a lively dance, with it's beginnings in Polish folk dance. Couples gather in circles. The dance requires music with a forceful accent on its second beat, in time at 3/4 or 3/8. This dance has no set figure, relying on the skills of the couple yo improvise. However there are over 50 different steps.

Redowa: A Czech dance. The dance begins with a closed position, their clasped hands pointing the direction they will dance. A leader (the first couple) will take a slight leap around his partner with their left foot tmfollowed by a gliding step with their right. This foot must be pointed, the left leg slightly bent and the back straight. The next set turns the leader about toward the front line again, their left leg is now forward and straight, the right now bent. The left leg is now meant to tuck beneath the right leg with is extended backwards. Another leap to the right leg finishes the pattern. The next couple, the follower, begins movement on the early beats where the leader makes moves on the second set of beats

Castlewalk: The leader moves forward while their partner goes backward. The partner is guided around the room, the leader's arm around their right side under whilst their lest hand rests on the leaders opposite shoulder. Their other arms are clasped, held aloft. The leader begins on their left foot, their partner on their right. They will move with gliding steps, stepping on each beat of the music. They will dance in a circle, moving about the room with other couples, their circle gradually growing smaller and smaller on three very quick turns.

Quadrille: The Quadrille is an older dance but still very popular in Gilded Age America. It is made up with a series of 4-6 contredanses (country dances). The Quadrille is a group dance, made up of sets. The standard Quadrille is five parts, the Viennese contains six. Each section is danced with a combinations of figures. A combination was a set of steps and movements. Examples would be the ladies chain (chaîne des dames) or the two hand turn (tour de deux mains).

[rayhalloffame]

Want to be coddled by artashi because you’re their little baby

In the mornings Tashi helps you get ready for the day, whether that be for Art’s match or running errands. She sits you in front of the vanity mirror and brushes through your wet hair. When there’s a particularly tough knot she pulls on that makes you wince she’s rubbing your scalp and rushing out an apology. She likes your hair pulled back so she can see your face, Art likes it down so he can run his fingers through it when you cuddle up to him. She settles for a half up and half down style today, ponytail tied neatly with a string bow. She admires you in the mirror while you’re distracted on your phone, one knee pulled against your chest, still stifling yawns from tiredness. Her eyes drag along the white lace set you have on, catch a second at the angle she gets of your clothed cunt. She considers letting you walk around without proper clothes all day but knows no one will get anything done, so she presses a kiss to your shoulder to let you know she’s finished. When you look up you smile at her and her heart melts. Her hand passes lovingly across your waist when you leave her to get dressed.

Art’s making breakfast and Tashi is sitting at the counter sipping coffee when you come out dressed in a tight little athletic dress that sits perfectly on your body. They both glance up at you when they hear your soft approaching footsteps. Art grins immediately, offering an arm for you to snuggle under from where he stands at the stove cooking eggs. When you reach him and attach yourself to his side, he reaches a hand to your jaw to tilt your face up toward his. He gives you a proper kiss, then a series of quick presses of your mouths that make you smile against his lips. “Good morning, baby. You look pretty,” he compliments. You blush and put your head back down to rest your cheek on his bare chest, you thank him. He finishes cooking breakfast with you attached to his hip, gently rocking you back and forth every now and again.

You go shopping and they buy you everything you want even when you insist it’s too much. You make sure to give them fashion shows in the dressing rooms to show your appreciation. If you kiss Tashi a little too long in your stall and an attendant comes to check on you, it’s no one’s business. Art carries the bags in one strong hand and when your pace struggles to keep up with Tashi’s quicker one, he guides you with a press of his wide palm to the small of your back. Sometimes Art gets stopped by fans and you start to fidget anxiously with the pendant necklace that hangs by your collarbones or the single ring on your right hand. Tashi always notices, draws you closer to her and settles you by smoothing down the loose hairs around your face.

Of course, a day is wasted without some training. Art convinces you to join him hitting balls that Tashi serves from across the court. They correct your technique a few times, and when Art catches on that you’re messing up the same swing just to feel his hands on you, he laughs, swats playfully at your butt with his racket. You’re sweaty and spent afterwards, letting Tashi wipe the moisture from your hairline and exposed back before you get in the car to go home.

The night routine is a little more challenging, especially after you’ve eaten and helped Tashi put away leftovers and clean the dishes. You’re so full and tired, how could you ever move from where you’re laid out on the couch? Your head is cushioned in Tashi’s lap, Art is rubbing your feet, and you retaliate with a whiny, “I want to stay here,” after Art’s ran his fingers up your shin to squeeze your thigh, suggesting you all take a shower and head to bed.

Tashi does fix you with a look then. She hates whining. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment and you’re sitting up almost immediately. The shower is completely for hygiene sake except when you turn your back to the water and see Art rubbing his hands down the front of Tashi’s body, mouth pressed to the back of her neck. You’re tired and they’re beautiful, so you’re happy to watch for a few moments. Tashi reaches her hand to you and pulls you into her, kisses you delicately with a hand cupped to your jaw.

Art dries you off with a plush towel afterwards, puts the blow dryer on cool to get most of the dampness out of your hair. You’re falling asleep where you stand, arms hugging yourself across your exposed chest, because of Art’s skilled fingers running through your hair and down the sides of your neck to get different angles with the dryer. Similar to Tashi, he tells you he’s done with a kiss to the side of your face, gives you a gentle pat to your backside to send you off to Tashi.

She’s waiting for you with cotton sleep shorts and one of Art’s oversized white tees. She lotions your body, presses light kisses to your joints after applying gentle pressure to relieve some of the soreness from your day. When you’re all finally settled in bed they’ve got you between them. Your head rests on Tashi’s shoulder and she traces her fingers across your scalp. Art’s pressed along your back, his arm thrown across your waist. His hand finds its way under the shirt you’re wearing and settles against your chest. His other arm is arched above your head so he can reach Tashi. He strokes her hair as well. You’re asleep within minutes. Not even your dreams are this sweet.

[ickadori]

“Wow, that looks really good.”

“I’m not giving you any.”

“I don’t—I wasn’t going to ask for any! I was just paying you a compliment, Kento, geez.” You grumble, and he’d feel bad if he didn’t know this game play-by-play.

He’d eat at his desk, as always, and not even a second after his bento quietly clinked against the metallic desk you were wheeling your chair over to his cubicle, trying and failing to be quiet as the squeaky wheels gave you away. You’d hover for a few moments, ooh’ing and ahh’ing when he removed the lid, and then you’d throw out a compliment.

“That smells amazing, Kento!”

“God, you’re such an amazing cook! Did you, like, go to culinary school or something?”

“You should start a food blog or something, really. I think it’d really take off - I can set it up for you, actually!”

“Aw, you made a little face on the rice ball! I didn’t know you were artistic, Kento!”

And then a comedically timed stomach growl would sound, followed with a ‘I forgot my lunchbox on the counter again’ and a pleading look that could rival the beggars littering the corners - and Nanami was a nice enough man, so he’d usually split his bento in half, sometimes giving you a larger portion than his, but your begging was getting out of hand.

“I actually brought my own lunch today.” You proudly state, your hand thrusting forward to show off your lunch bag. It’s…childish, but with you being the youngest, and newest, hire in the office, he can’t say he’s all too surprised. “This is a new lunch bag, too, do you like it? I got it half off on clearance at the convenience store down the street. I had no idea they even sold them! It was hidden all the way in the back near the…”

You’re a chatterbox, and usually Nanami doesn’t like those, even goes out of his way to make himself scarce when the usual office gossips enter his vicinity, but he doesn’t mind you…too much.

“…what I brought today! I think you’re gonna be really jealous.” You snicker, and he’s forced to scoot his chair over as you plop your bag down on the desk next to his bento box and roll your chair forward. “But don’t worry, I’ll let you have some. It’s only fair, after all.” You practically rip the zipper in your haste to get it open, and the both of you blink at what’s found inside.

There’s a large thermos on its side, the contents that had been in it, a soup that did smell rather appetizing, floating around in the bottom of the bag. There’s a plastic ziplock bag in there as well that houses your crackers, although the hot soup had melted through the plastic and turned the crackers into a gooey mess. There’s a small container of chopped up fruit that wasn’t spared, the lid not having been shut correctly, and your plastic spoon is also a melted mess as well.

“…it said it was spill-proof.” You give him a pitiful look, and Nanami sighs through his nose as his knuckles rap against his desk.

“Did you put the top on right?”

“I thought I did.” You poke at the soup, yelping when you find out that it’s still hot, and you pop the singed digit into your mouth as you whine. “And I was so excited for you to taste it, too. It was my mom’s recipe.” You look dejected, sunny disposition nowhere to be found, and Nanami frowns at the restlessness that creeps up to settle in the pit of his stomach.

You close the lunchbox with a forlorn sigh, lips jutted out in a pout, and Nanami puts himself out there in a way that had grown foreign to him over the years.

“Do you have enough ingredients to make another batch?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, not at all. I kinda used up everything trying to make it taste right.” You flash him a sheepish smile. “This was the sixth batch I made—and it was really good, too!”

“If you’re not busy after work,” he feels a tad nervous, and his fingers itch to loosen the tie around his neck. “We could stop by the market and buy what you need. That way you could make it again tonight and just bring it in tomorrow.” A friendly, professional trip to the market, a small show of thanks for your failed attempt.

“Hm,” you tap your nails against his desk as you hum, and Nanami wonders for a second if he’s crossed some invisible boundary and will be called into HR in the morning. “I don’t think I trust myself with the thermos, to be completely honest. It would probably just end up spilled again…” Your eyes lock onto his as you smile, lashes batting and chair twirling back and forth. “How about you just come over to mine instead? That way you can get it nice, hot, and fresh? It’s best that way, y’know.”

Nanami wants to retreat, go back into his shell and keep the relationship professional, informal, safe, but then you’re twisting again, and your knee is brushing up against his, and he likes the contact a bit too much.

“Is it?” He questions.

“Mhm,” you nod. “I’ll even make sure to give you something sweet for dessert.”

“I’m not a big fan of sweets.”

“You will be after tonight.”

“..”

“Please email me your address at your earliest convenience.”

[tarjapearce]

OMFG NOW U HAVE TO WRITE SOMETHING WITH MIGUEL AND READER INTRODUCING BABY BELLA (that’s just a nickname i’d give gabriella if she was my daughter 😭) TO FOOTBALL 😭😭😭😭😭😭

i’m from germany that’s FOOTBAAALLLL

I was watching a kid play after I came home from work and AHHH reminded me of this ask!! (And don't worry, over here in Honduras we call it football too c: ) Hope you like :')

WARNINGS: Fluff, domestic shenanigans ~

There was little changes in your life after Gabriella was born. Domestic life sure had its perks, and with Miguel everything was thrilling, exhausting and tearjerker.

You had moved to your new home. A two floored home that you and Miguel bought to grow in. Gabriel remained in his now single apartment, teasing his older brother to no end once he saw him with one of your aprons as he cooked dinner while you were bathing Gabi.

Chaos was a constant part of your lives, discovering things as new parents sparked things between your relationship with Miguel. Your teamwork had improved significantly, and so your communication.

Even though there were little misunderstandings here and there, Gabi seemed the common ground that you needed to not fall back into the bad habits pre-marriage you had and sometimes slipped away into your new stage of life.

Gabi or Gabibi, a little play word for Habibi, a little nickname you've given her after watching foreign novelas with Miguel, had grown into a wonderful one year old toddler. And today, she'd witness her Papa's first soccer game.

Chubby cheeks, vivacious eyes that followed Miguel everywhere, a bubbly laugh that instantly melt him was always there whenever he showed up.

His princesa, his Solecito was always shining hard on his rainy days or whenever he had a fight with you. But now, she was resting on your lap, looking for him among the other team players after you lathered her skin with sunscreen and put a little hat to avoid any discomfort.

It wasn't hard to miss her dear Papa, not when he yelled like no other to Peter, and was bossy enough to make him the captain.

Gabi's eyes followed Miguel and she'd squeal and blabble overjoyed whenever he dribbled and kicked the ball here and there. She'd make the grabby hands to him and mumble a pa pa while clapping whenever he was close enough.

"Yes, that's Papa"

You smooched her cheeks while she kept her eyes on Miguel. Another loud squeal came after the whistle echoed, announcing the half time.

Miguel approached and she called him with baby and drooly words. A toothless grin came into her face while Miguel loomed over the both. Just like you, her eyes always looked at him with such marvel it made him weak.

You handed him a towel to dry off the sweat. He then kissed your temple and took Gabi in his arms to them shower her chubby and lovely face in kisses, earning him a raucous laugh and squeal while her tiny hands touched his.

"If I get a to score a goal, is for you and Mama, ok?"

"Ma ma"

"She's been cheering for you nonstop."

You chuckled while getting her back to drink some water.

"I heard her over the field"

"Even though my ears have suffered a bit, she loves watching you play."

"Pa pa!"

"Yes, mi princesa?"

Gabi blabbed and clapped, eyes keen and settled on the ball.

"You think she likes it?"

You took her again as Miguel drank from his bottle.

"Wanna find out?"

---

And against all odds, Gabriella had seemed to take a liking in watching Miguel play. Things seemed to take a turn for her when there was game nights in your own home.

Meaning, Miguel, Peter, Jessica's husband and Gabriel would gather up in the living room to yell and watch at the screen, beverages and snacks on the table. Despite the noise, Gabi wanted to be there, next to Miguel.

It was comical and endearing to see her mimic him whenever he was angry. If he yelled, she'd give a presumably angry screech, and if he celebrated, Gabi would clap and burst into a laughing fit.

Miguel had gotten her a little soft ball that she loved kicking, Miguel would enter his narrator mode and build up the tension to then help his daughter score.

He lifted her up in the air and tickled her.

And now, seeing her kick the ball and play in a little league school team, made his chest swell in pride.

His smile widened as he waved back at Gabi, that had greeted him right after scoring her first goal ever. A little cupcake was to celebrate as you recorded while your dear six years old baby girl smeared Miguel's cheek with frosting.

[heyjudeb]

Lake Secrets - Jude Bellingham

Chapter 2: You Can Trust Me

Summary: Grace Alexander Arnold, an architecture student, looks forward to a quiet summer at her brother Trent's lake villa. Her plans change when Trent's best friend, Jude Bellingham, arrives with his family. As Grace and Jude spend more time together, a secret romance begins to grow. Amidst the peaceful lake and family gatherings, will their hidden feelings last, or will they fade away with the summer? Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, emotional moment, anxiety

Note: The story will develop more in this chapter, they will share intimate moments

“Come on, Jude, that was way too far!” Trent complained as he swam toward the ball, which had splashed down several yards away. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the lake.

“Sorry, my bad!” I called back, laughing. Jobe splashed water at me playfully, shaking his head.

“You always go overboard, bro,” Jobe said with a grin. “Literally.”

Everyone else was sitting near the shore, either deep in conversation or doing their own thing. Diane and my mom were chatting under a large umbrella, while Trent’s dad was stretched out on a lounge chair, soaking up the sun.

Grace was sitting on a towel, a book in her hands. Every so often, she would look up, watching us play. Her gaze lingered, and it was clear she was admiring the sight of us having fun in the water. She looked like she wanted to join in but was holding back.

She was wearing a white short dress with straps that stood on her forearms, revealing her bare shoulders. She always made sure to pull the strap up on her left shoulder as if to cover something. We would sometimes make eye contact and smile. Anytime I said something funny, I felt the need to look for her approval, which I got every time.

"Hey, Grace. Why don't you join us?" Jobe, my brother, called out. Her smile slowly turned into a worried expression, and she sat up from laying on her stomach.

"I'm good, Jobe. I don't feel like swimming today!"

"She's not into this, mate," Trent quickly spoke for her. I couldn't help but wonder if there might be something more to this, but I decided to let it go.

I also wanted to take a break. We'd been in the water for almost an hour, and I was hungry. Diane and Grace had prepared some delicious snacks that morning in the kitchen: cookies, mini sandwiches, and a variety of other treats. I had watched Grace make them while I ate a late breakfast of cereal at the dining table next to the kitchen. She looked effortlessly pretty while cooking, even in casual clothes and with her hair in a simple braid. Her face was slightly puffy from sleep, her skin clear and fresh. I couldn't help but think how lovely it would be to wake up and see her first thing in the morning. She seemed like the kind of girl who would understand you, truly get your inner self, and make life easier by being the best partner. She didn’t come across as complicated to deal with, yet she still held an air of mystery.

"Alright, how about we take a break to eat?" Trent said, as if reading my thoughts.

We all nodded and got out of the water. Diane handed each of us a towel and put the food basket in front of us where we sat. I munched on the mini sandwiches Grace had prepared, trying to catch a glimpse of her without making it obvious.

"Sweetie, do you want something too?" my mom asked Grace, making her look up from her book. She nodded and placed the book aside, moving to sit between me and Trent.

She grabbed a sandwich and started eating. Jobe was making everyone laugh, and her attempts to laugh without spitting out her food were very cute. Eventually, everyone gathered around to eat until there was no food left.

As dusk approached, our parents decided to call it a day, leaving only me, Jobe, Trent, and Grace by the lake. They gathered everything and took the short walk back to the villa, leaving us with some towels and our clothes. "How about we take another swim before leaving?" Jobe asked, winking at me. I couldn’t quite understand what he was hinting at.

"Sure, bro. Let's do it!" Trent agreed, and we all stood up, except for Grace. She remained seated, avoiding our looks. "Wanna make a run for it?" Trent looked at me, and I laughed and nodded in response. Jobe held back as we made a run for it, but then I heard a scream from behind me, causing Trent and me to halt and spin around. Grace was screaming, and Jobe was carrying her towards the water, trying to make a joke of it.

"Please, Jobe! Put me down! I don't want to go into the water!" Grace continued to scream, kicking as Jobe neared the water's edge. There was a raw edge of panic in her voice, verging on tears.

"No, Jobe, stop!" Trent yelled, sprinting towards them, clearly alarmed.

Jobe sensed the seriousness of the situation and stopped, slowly setting Grace down on her feet. She clutched her chest, blinking rapidly, trying to compose herself and hold back tears.

"I'm sorry, Grace. I didn't mean to scare you," Jobe said, regret plain in his voice.

I approached cautiously, standing behind Trent, who was comforting her with soothing touches on her shoulders. Grace looked distant, trying to regain her composure.

"Hey, Grace. Are you okay?" I asked softly, my concern evident. I wanted nothing more than to hold her close and calm her racing heart.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Grace quickly replied, her gaze darting between all of us, overwhelmed by the rush of questions. "It's okay! I just panicked because... It was sudden."

Trent wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. "Hey, how about we call it a day, too?" We all nodded and gathered our towels. I kept my concerned gaze on Grace, which she seemed to notice. She flashed a faint smile at me and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, letting me know she was alright. I gave her one more questioning look.

"I'm okay!"

"Alright, good," I whispered back to her, feeling a bit awkward, like I was crossing a line between caring and flirting, especially with Trent nearby. We continued walking towards the villa, and Jobe kept apologizing to Grace repeatedly until she finally convinced him she was okay. She seemed chilly in her short dress as she tried to wrap a dirty towel around her shoulders.

"Here," I pulled her aside from the group and draped my zipper hoodie over her shoulders. She hesitated at first but then placed her hands on top of mine, gently squeezing them.

"Thank you, Jude," she said softly, walking beside me while the boys walked ahead. She held the book close to her chest, and my oversized hoodie looked like a dress on her.

"Still hooked on Bukowski, I see?" I asked, smiling at her.

"Yeah, another day, reading the same thing," she replied with a smile, glancing down. I noticed she found it difficult to maintain eye contact with me, even though her green eyes had been the subject of my daydreams since we arrived. I fought the urge to let her know that.

"You have beautiful eyes, you know?" I lost the battle. She seemed taken aback by my comment, continuing to look down but smiling nonetheless. "Thank you!"

"Are you always this shy?"

"Depends on who I'm talking to," she replied, finally meeting my gaze after a moment's pause. "Some people are intimidating." "Am I one of them?" I asked, feeling like I might have put her on the spot, but our conversation was going so well I wanted to keep it going. "Maybe!" she replied with a playful smirk, giving me a thoughtful look that made me laugh.

....

As soon as we reached the house, we took showers and changed into fresh clothes, all gathering on the backyard patio one by one. Grace was the last one to come down. We were all having a glass of wine by the firepit, laughing and talking. I couldn't really make out her figure until she approached fully because of the dark.

Her braids were out, and her hair lay on her shoulders, still wearing my hoodie. She looked comfortable in it, and it suited her better than me. Miraculously, the only empty spot was a bean bag next to me. She approached slowly and smiled at me as the fire illuminated my face.

"Hey," she spoke softly.

"Hey, you feeling better?" I asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable after the incident at the lake.

She gave me an assuring smile. Our voices drowned in the noise of the others talking, the fire crackling, and lots of laughter. It felt like it was just the two of us. The darkness provided a sort of shield for me to freely look at her.

"Are you enjoying your stay so far?" she asked, keeping our conversation going.

"So far, so good. I really like this place!" I responded. "The house is very nice, and the view is breathtaking."

"It is," she said, either looking at my face or down at her hands while talking. "It will be a nice vacation break for you guys!"

"You said you've been coming here with your family every summer," I recalled her words from the first day. "Do you still find the place exciting?"

She sighed and leaned further into the bean bag. "Uh, yeah! But, the older I get, the more I want to experience other places as well. My dad isn't really a big fan of me traveling alone or staying someplace else... to study alone."

It felt like she was confessing an issue of hers. I wanted her to trust me, to feel comfortable talking to me about anything. I'm sure she doesn't do that very often. "I want to do my major abroad. But my dad wants me 'close' to him." she used air quotes and seemed hurt and defeated remembering her father's words. "Why is that?" "Just a stupid conclusion my dad has." She didn't want to continue the conversation, so I didn't push her any further.

While having a good time with everyone, the fire slowly started to die down. I took a look and saw Grace already asleep on her bean bag. She brought her legs up to her chest, and put her hands all the way inside my hoodie, holding them near her face.

"Guys, I'm calling it a night. I'm really tired," my dad said, and my mother agreed, getting up to leave with him.

"Yeah, it’s been a long day," Trent said, stretching. "I think I’ll turn in too." He followed my parents inside.

Jobe yawned and nodded. "Me too. This vacation life is wearing me out." Trent's mom noticed Grace fast asleep on the bean bag. She approached her slowly, lightly tapping her on the shoulder. "Sweetheart, we're heading to bed. How about you continue your sleep in your room?"

Grace hummed in response, not really registering what her mother was saying. Diane looked at me, and we both smiled at Grace's sleepy state. Diane tried waking her up again, but Grace only opened and closed her eyes a few times, not fully awake.

"Do you want me to take her up to her room, Mrs. Arnold?" I offered, not wanting to disturb her. Diane looked at me gratefully and nodded.

I stood up from my bean bag and carefully scooped Grace into my arms. She naturally nestled her head into the crook of my neck, her hands tucked inside the hoodie's sleeves, close to her chest. She felt like the missing piece of my puzzle, fitting perfectly in my arms.

Once we got inside, I said goodbye to Diane. Her room was on the first floor. She wished me goodnight and entered quietly, trying not to wake her sleeping husband who had called it a night way before us.

I took slow and careful steps on the stairs, fully aware of their creaking. After each step, I glanced at Grace, ensuring she wasn't disturbed. When I reached her bedroom door, I struggled to open it slightly.

Thankfully, her bedside lamp was on for some reason, casting a soft glow and helping me navigate the unfamiliar room. I placed her delicately on the bed. She snuggled her face into the pillow as soon as it touched the soft surface, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Thank you..." she managed to say in a raspy, low voice.

"Of course. Have a good night's sleep, Grace," I responded. My inner self urged me to kiss her forehead goodnight. Instead, I gently pulled the bed cover up to her shoulders. That's when I noticed a scar on her left shoulder, where my fallen hoodie exposed her skin. It was on the side she had tried to hide earlier at the lake. I brushed my fingers on it slightly, causing her to shiver. I stood up from the bed and turned off the light next to her, slowly making my way out of the room and into my own. I took off my shirt and shorts and crashed into bed only wearing my boxers. I was a bit tired myself too, but I really wanted to know the history behind that scar. .....

It had been more than a week since we arrived. Our families' bond had grown significantly over these days. Aside from our morning exercises and evening talks, I rarely spent time with Trent alone.

Our mothers were really enjoying the villa, constantly cooking something new and sipping wine on the porch. Our dads engaged in debates over various topics, beers in hand, as they relaxed by the lakeside. And then, there were always the four of us doing things together.

And green is still my favorite color.

My obsession with Grace has grown. The more time we spend together, the more she begins to trust me. Now, she maintains eye contact while we talk. She opens up about her passion for architecture, detailing her studies, her close bond with Trent, and sharing her likes and dislikes. I find myself struggling with the question of whether Grace feels a deeper connection toward me or if she is simply being friendly. It seems more than mere coincidence that we always end up seated next to each other, and that chores are consistently assigned to us as a pair.

She still has my hoodie. The other night, as we both got up for some water, I caught sight of her in the kitchen, wearing my hoodie and shorts. There was a moment of surprise in her eyes when she noticed me. She quickly tried to explain, mentioning how comfortable it was and apologizing, saying she would return it.

Instead of insisting, I simply said, "No, keep it. It looks way better on you."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, a soft smile playing on her lips. It was a spontaneous comment, but one that felt right in the moment. Seeing her wear my hoodie, looking effortlessly comfortable and somehow even more attractive, stirred a warmth in me that I couldn't deny. Let's go for a swim today, lads," Trent interrupted my racing thoughts.

Jobe eagerly agreed, but Grace lowered her gaze and muttered something under her breath. It wasn't the first time she had declined to swim. Despite hanging out with us by the lake, she never ventured into the water.

Sitting together on the patio bean bags, Trent and Jobe moved to prepare for swimming while I stayed behind, drawing closer to Grace, hoping for a moment of privacy.

"Hey, is there a reason you never join us in the lake?" I asked softly.

Her discomfort was palpable, evident in the way she shifted in her seat." It's just not my thing-" she spoke quickly.

"Can you come with us this one time? Please!" I pleaded, hoping to convince her. But as soon as I noticed her beautiful green eyes getting foggy, I knew I shouldn't push her further.

"I'll just stay in my room this time," she said quickly, standing up and leaving before I could say anything else. Her sudden outburst left a lingering sense of concern in the air. .....

We we're back at the dining table in the evening, enjoying another meal after a tiring day at the lake with only us boys. Grace hasn't spoken to me since our last encounter earlier. She quickly munched on something and excused herself sitting at the far end of the backyard near the lake view in the complete dark, with the excuse of wanting to read in peace. Me and the others had a normal routine, had a glass of wine and then went to bed. In my room, I could still see her silhouette by the lake. I decided to go up to her. Everyone was asleep, the only source of light being the moon once again. I tried to make some sound while I approached her from afar, not wanting to scare her. She turned around to look at me, giving me a tired smile and then focused her eyes back at the lake. I sat next to her. Our shoulders brushing. "You know you can trust me, right?" I asked her directly.

"I know," she replied softly, her gaze still fixed on the lake.

"Why are you afraid to swim, Grace?"

She remained silent for a moment, as if weighing whether to open up to me. I reassured her with a gentle touch on her knee.

Her breathing became more audible, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"It's just..." Her voice cracked, and she fell silent again.

"It's okay. Take your time. I'm right here for you." I held her hand firmly, feeling it tremble slightly in mine. "You know that scar you saw on my shoulder the other night?" she asked. I nodded at her, but still surprised she could remember that in her sleeping state. "It happened when i was younger while swimming. Do you see that empty looking house right there?" I nodded. " That's where Lily used to live." "Used to?" I became curious of where she's going with this and why was it affecting her so much. "She died. She was my childhood bestfriend." She let out a small sob, i quickly wrapped my arm around her shoulder, providing her some comfort.

"There's an old pier on the other side of the lake, hidden away now. Lily and I used to go there to play. One day, we were climbing around it, and Lily slipped. She grabbed my leg instinctively, pulling me into the water with her. She hit her head on the metal as we fell."

She paused, her eyes distant as she relived the memory.

"Lily suffered a head injury and died instantly." Grace continued, her voice catching. "I had a hurt leg and some scratches, making it hard for me to stay above the water. But I managed to pull her now-red and bloody body from the water and call for help."

Grace looked at me with sad eyes, almost as if seeking closure. I kissed her forehead gently and rubbed her forearm in reassurance, but she still seemed scared and shaky after all these years.

"So you never swam anymore?" I asked softly. She shook her head, her expression pained. "I'm afraid something bad will happen," she murmured.

"I understand," I said, kissing her temple again. I held her like that for a long time, whispering sweet nothings to her. "But what if we try something different?"

I gently took her hand and helped her stand up. Slowly, I guided her towards the water, feeling her resistance as she shook her head vigorously.

"Hey, hey, hey," I murmured soothingly, holding both her hands. "I'm not going to push you or anything, sweetheart. Just relax."

She nodded hesitantly, her gaze locked with mine, her eyes reflecting fear and uncertainty.

"We will stop whenever you want to. Let's just try to put our foot inside the water," I suggested gently.

"No, no. Jude, no please!" Grace's voice was alarmed, filled with fear.

I cupped her face in my hands and gently placed her forehead against mine, holding her close. "You can trust me, Grace." .......... Coming up next:

Chapter 3: Favorite Poem

Warnings: fluff, physical contact, crying, angst

[svt-kiki]

( 🧺 ) 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ⌅ .

EP 109 : MT SVT REALITY 2024

2024.　pairing.　kiki ( fem!oc ) × svt

cw.　eng is not my first language, rough writing, no proofread, mentions of alcohol ( i mean it’s ttt so )

kiki was attacked hugged by mingyu as soon as she entered the lesson room after jeonghan

“what? ...oh, yes,” she said to herself with a chuckle, remembering mingyu was elected as the gose class president in previous episodes ( and carats didn’t miss that he seized the chance to hold her )

then she greeted with the staffs politely as always, wearing a black clop cardigan and a matching color camisole, dark gray pants in a relaxing silhouette, both were soft materials, matching the mt concepts for the day

also wearing glasses ( important )

she just tittered while hoshi, cheol and jeonghan kept adding mingyu’s tasks as the class president

“you guys living to give him a headache for real, arent you.”

she sat on the place nearby the door, then the next thing carats realized was wonwoo silently sitting next to her ( seized the chance guy #2 )

after most of them gathered, she popped up with a question, “isn’t it been a while? doing ttt?”

kiki: i love this content so much :)

wonwoo silently pulled her sleeve and got her closely so that she could join the same car with him

jun: but seriously, do you guys think it is okay? leave the grocery shopping task to us!?

kiki: *stepped ahead, tried to volunteer that she can do instead*

jeonghan, held her from behind and covered her mouth: DON’T

seungkwan: hey! someone is trying to smother the applicant! ㅋㅋ

dino: no, no, hadn’t we strongly agree not to let noona do those things in ttt before?

that’s true, in almost every ttt episodes, she is always willing to do shopping, cook, wash dishes, and clean places aftermath

so boys decided “no more tasks” rules for her, bcs she always doing these tasks not only in the content but on a daily basis

jeonghan: ah i should let her sit in the passenger seat, joshua ain’t do a thing

kiki: well it’s too late for that *comfortable in the backseat*

she just couldn’t stop laughing at how jeonghan introduced the product for ads

kiki: why are u so bad at this

jeonghan: shut up i’m no actor okay

kiki: wait this actually tastes good???

joshua: ahdfsjak

not wonwoo slowly lying down to her lap

they went to the PA for a casual meal

jeonghan: can i have a drink?

kiki: go ahead i’ll drive

[ pretend like the rule never existed ]

jeonghan: *attacked her cutely*

kiki: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

kiki: i want to eat a popsicle so bad, should i text mingyu?

joshua: if u want i’ll text him instead

kiki: really? like aren't your text piling up?

then every person in the car died

joshua: did u just backstabbed me like that!?

kiki: i'm sorry i didn't intended to ㅋㅋ

she was surprised at how big today’s accommodations were

kiki: staff-nim must struggling to find the places for us every time

[ yes we are ]

jeonghan asked her to play the pool together so she said yes

he laughed about how sometimes he got pissed at how she’s good at everything from the beginning

kiki responded with a serious face, “no, the reason it looks like i’m good at those things is any other pfu boys basically suck at every ball game,” and both burst into laughter

after a while, jun shouted to her from outside, “kiki~! i’ll sing your fav jp song, u wanna join?” so she immediately got outside

[ never miss the opportunity to duet ]

singing i love you by ozaki yutaka with jun, kiki said to him, “we should do the cover of this yk, like officially,” and carats started manifesting in a sec

mingyu: thank god she’s finally here

while naturally helping to prepare the BBQ, kiki looked around and said, “everyone just singing karaoke… i guess we are already at the age now where we need to save our energy for the night…” then died inside

[ blew herself up ]

she’s an honorary member of the low-energy club in the group so

after everyone got at the table and cheered, joshua finally asked her help for his kimchi fried rice which took one eternity

kiki: okay lemme add this- and this- and this spice- yeah now it’s good

[ finally served ]

after playing the games ( she kept losing and got a lil tipsy already ), they cleaned the place for once and shifted to the next game

minghao claimed from the distance that since kiki’s good at playing basketball she should be given a handicap

so she gave a shot from across the pool while everyone watched in silence expecting the miracle but she failed the first attempt

[ miracle is a miracle because it won’t happen easily ]

kiki: what did u expected i'm half drunk

in the ep.3 part, she chilling and half asleep while her roommates mingyu and dokyeom are both hyperactive from early morning

kiki isn’t the type of not good in the morning usually, but this is the day she didn’t need to wake up before 10 am for a long while so she just kept sleeping peacefully, it might be the first time in ttt that she hadn’t get up early than most of them

kiki: wow you actually look like your dad

jeonghan: all of the sudden-?

while seungkwan trying to get on the unicorn float, she was still sleepy but automatily turned on the camera and started recording ( lately posted on weverse ofc )

an.　this is really rough sorry ( almost sucks at this point?¿ ) but it is like a test drive for me before i lost my motivation to write it so here we go. tag list is open, reblog / comments / ask box messages are always appreciated <3

(    📁    )   :   NAVI   :  MASTER LIST     

(    tag list    )   :   @smh-anon @jennwonwoo

[lumosinlove]

On The Line

Part Four

ONE YEAR LATER

Logan went through his usual routine—well, his new usual routine as he was preparing for a tournament. The U.S. Open was quickly approaching, but he still had time. Weeks. Even after two years his life still felt new. What had once been yanking himself out of bed for a protein shake and a run was now pushing into Finn’s side while he fried a few eggs and burrowing into the warm crook of his neck.

“Mm,” Finn said around the piece of watermelon he was chewing. He wrapped an arm around Logan’s waist, hand giving his butt three hard taps. With the other, he flipped the sizzling eggs then turned to press his lips to Logan’s forehead. “Do we still have blueberries?”

“Ouais—smoothie?”

“Yeah. Wait, there was mint in the garden, that’ll be good in it. And I bought that yogurt you like.”

Logan tilted his head up and Finn smiled.

“Hi, gorgeous, hi,” he whispered, and then kissed him. “Go get me my mint.”

Logan stepped out into the morning. He nodded to Alice and Pete, whose team helped manage his courts and house while he was away. They hadn’t seemed very surprised when Logan first brought Finn home and Finn had just…never left. They’d seemed happily surprised when Finn consulted them about planting an herb garden.

It was barely eight in the morning and it already felt like it was nearing eighty degrees. It was going to be a hot practice. Logan found the patch labeled mint in Finn’s slanted handwriting and picked a few stems.

The kitchen window opened behind him and Finn shouted out, “chives!”

Logan smiled and reached for those, too. He took his phone out and snapped a photo, sending it off with a little swooping sound. A moment later, a reply arrived under the banner of Leo Knut’s name.

I’m very impressed!!!

:), Logan typed back. what are you up to where are you now

Logan waited for a reply, but none came. He must have been busy and Logan went back into the kitchen to Finn.

Logan wasn’t sure how it had happened, or even exactly when. Sometime after the Wimbledon ball—Finn called it the Wimbledon dance—Leo Knut had slowly but surely become their friend. He ate with them at most meals during tournaments. He came out to dinner with them sometimes, when he wasn’t eating with his team—who seemed nice enough, if not a little strict. Finn always rolled his eyes when Logan said that. We can’t all have a two-for-one boyfriend, Tremblay.

They texted when they were apart in a group chat that had somehow acquired the name Loginn & Leo that made Logan smile every time he saw it. Finn and him went back and forth constantly about books and TV shows. Logan mostly just listened and read through their conversations, but he liked talking to Leo about his cooking the most. He enjoyed hearting the pictures of delicious meals he made. Him and Finn tried to recreate some of them with Leo instructing them over FaceTime, but Logan had a feeling it would never taste the same unless it was made by Leo’s hand.

Tennis was carefully avoided. Maybe out of respect, or out of balance, Logan didn’t know. But he was almost glad. It kept Leo as a friend. It kept their minds off the court when they didn’t need to be there.

They ate their breakfast on the back porch that overlooked the pool and Logan had half a mind to forget training and lay here all day with Finn. The pool’s surface was still and gleaming in the morning light, the fan above them rotated slowly for a gentle breeze, and Logan had his feet in Finn’s lap. Finn was idly rubbing Logan’s ankle with one hand and eating with the other. Logan knew he’d be a mess of sweat and sore muscles later, so he pushed his toes into Finn’s thigh for more attention.

Finn pushed against a particularly sore spot in Logan’s arch and grinned at Logan’s noise. “Gonna run you so hard today, get ready.”

Logan popped his last bite of toast into his mouth. “Can you please not say it like that?”

“What?”

“It sounds like I’m going to do other things than run, and I know that I’m not.”

“Hm,” Finn took a sip of his iced coffee, obviously hiding a smile. “Maybe you better work really hard, then.”

Three hours later, Logan was flat on his back on the clay of his personal court. He closed his eyes, chest heaving, and enjoyed the dusty-scratch feeling of the clay on his skin.

A shadow fell over him. Finn had been inside the house, taking some calls while Logan did sprints. When Logan opened his eyes, Finn looked the picture of cool and unruffled. He held out a water bottle, and when Logan took a sip, he was pleased to find the water ice cold and slightly lemony.

“I think I found someone for you to hit with,” Finn said. “He’s hoping to get in some good time on the clay and, oh look,” Finn spread his hands. “Clay, right here in the USA.”

Logan opened his eyes again questioningly. “What?”

“I found someone for you to hit with.”

Logan propped himself up on an elbow, confused. “I hit with you.”

“I know, I know. What, you don’t even want to know who?”

Logan took another sip of water, swishing it around in his mouth. “Who?”

“Leo.”

Logan smiled, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Leo’s here?”

“Ooh-way.”

“He didn’t say.”

“You spoke to him?”

“I sent him garden pictures and asked but he didn’t respond.”

“Maybe because he was flying.”

“Leo doesn’t have to be flying not to answer my messages.”

“No, I’m saying I have his flight number, he was flying.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “You tracked his flight?”

Finn shrugged. “I like to know where people are. I used to track your flights all the time. Before I was on all of them.”

Something about that made Finn’s words begin to set in. Playing Leo was one thing. Being his friend on tour, texting, FaceTiming, trying to learn to cook from him. But training with him…

“Well…Là.” Logan shook his head. “He’d get to know me too well. My game. He’s so good, it’s—”

“You’d get to know his, too,” Finn said. “And he’s gonna be around for a while. The rest of your career, certainly. He’s too good not to be.”

Logan hesitated. He picked up his hat from where it had been knocked to the ground and pressed it between his hands.

“We avoid tennis,” Logan said. “I don’t…I don’t want it to come between us.”

Finn sighed and knelt down on his good knee, right between where Logan’s were splayed. “Look, Lo. Bottom line, I can’t run you around like you need. My knee won’t have it. And I don’t need someone to just lob balls at you. I don’t need you to whip some half-ass hitter’s butt. We need someone who will push your every boundary. Who will put you to the test—especially on clay. It’s your home, it’s where you dominate. It’s where people are the most scared of you and I’m gonna keep it that way. Also, Leo’s a beast on hard court and you could learn a few things.” Logan narrowed his eyes and Finn smiled. “I’m telling you this as a kindness, boyfriend and coach.”

Before he knelt on his bad knee, he’d stretched his hands out on either side of Logan and slowly lay him down on the hot court. Logan smiled as he lay his head back. His entire back through his t-shirt was warm and Finn’s chest felt warmer.

“Is that a yes?” Finn bent to kiss Logan’s neck. He was soaked in sweat but Finn didn’t seem to care.

Finn pulled back to look at him. “He’s coming at noon tomorrow.” He pushed himself up on his hands, straightening his arms and blocking out the sun just enough so that Logan could open his eyes and see his red hair get turned to bronze by the halo of rays. They looked at each other for a moment, until Finn laughed, soft and closed-lips, and couldn’t help himself anymore. He let himself back down and kissed Logan in the sunshine.

“Yes?” Finn asked again, bumping their noses together. “Yes. Yes, yes?”

Logan hooked his arms under Finn’s and hauled him fully down. “What if we can’t turn it off again?”

Finn frowned, but allowed himself to rest against Logan. “What does that mean?”

Logan let his head rest fully in the clay. It would be all in his hair turn the shower tiles rusty later when he scrubbed it out—or when Finn did, hopefully.

“What if…” Logan sighed. “What if once we train together, we’re always competitors and we can’t be friends again?”

“Did you feel any less my friend when you played me?”

God, that was something he hadn’t thought of for a while. Finn, across the court from him. Trying to beat Finn. Well, usually beating Finn. And Finn sticking his tongue out at him when he thought the cameras weren’t looking—the cameras were always looking.

Finn read his mind like that.

“Cause for me, you know what happened to me when I played you?” Finn asked.

“You fell in love with me?”

Finn feigned a gasp. “How did you know?” He grinned as he kissed Logan again. “So, don’t worry about Leo. He’s not petty. He’s not stupid. He’s your friend. He knows what comes with your jobs. And he wants to train with you anyway.” Finn tilted his head. “Some would call that wanting to spend time with your friends, too.”

“It’s hard work.”

“Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

Logan tightened his arms around Finn. “Ouais, well, I’ve been asking you to do that all day.”

“Oh-ho.” Finn’s laugh was delighted and he ducked his face down against Logan’s neck. “Shut up.”

Logan hooked his foot around Finn’s waist and rolled them over until he’d pinned him against the soft clay. His hands left reddish smudges of Finn’s cheeks when he took his face to kiss him again.

“Mm,” Finn mumbled contentedly. He pushed his hands up under Logan’s shirt.

“Allez,” Logan whispered, biting down gently on Finn’s lip. “I want to do what I love.”

“Leo,” Finn said, the name cutting off in a gasp as Logan pressed his hips against him. “Tomorrow. Noon.”

“Yes,” Logan said. He nosed against Finn’s jaw until he got Finn to tilt his head back so he could get at his pale neck. “Yes…”

~

Logan felt restless the next morning. He was out at dawn, running the familiar path near his property, Finn biking beside him. They stopped in a shady spot where a food truck served breakfast sandwiches and iced coffee.

“We should take Leo here,” Finn said around a mouthful. “He’d fucking love this sauce that is burning my mouth off right now.” Finn swallowed and stuck his tongue out, panting. “Ack. It’s delicious just man-oh-man.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You just took out an entire potato because it was covered in it.”

“Fuck off,” Logan said, and slouched further with his back to Finn’s chest.

They rode back and showered. Finn laughed a bit at the fact that Logan never seemed to not have a bit of clay in his hair or behind his ears.

The restlessness didn’t ease up.

As they waited for Leo to text that he had landed, Logan walked laps around the living room couch where Finn was reading. One circle. Two. Three. Four. He paused and came back with a handful of popcorn. Five. Six. Finn looked good reading. Glasses resting on his nose, casting faint speckled shadows among his many freckles. Seven. Eight. Nine. Logan kissed the top of his head before coming back around to look at his face again. Ten. Eleven.

“Lo…” Finn said his name all drawn out without looking away from his pages.

“He really asked to come?” Logan asked. “You didn’t ask him?”

Finn turned a page. “He asked me.”

“You should be careful what strategies you use when he’s here. Who knows what he’ll say to his own—”

“Logan,” Finn laughed. He rubbed at his eyes beneath his lenses before taking his glasses off. “You think I don’t have a plan for that sort of thing?”

Logan paused. He worried a popcorn kernel in his teeth. “I don’t want to have to whisper in front of him.”

“We won’t. You know us. A lot of the time, we don’t need words.” Finn let his book rest against his chest. “Listen to me. Will he learn some things about us? Yes. Will we learn some things about him? Yes. But that’s not the point. The point is you’ll get even better than you are because you won’t be worried about hurting me, and it won’t be easy for you.”

“What if I have to use something new against him in a match?” Logan said. “Something I learn now. Here.” Logan sank into the cushions at Finn’s waist and Finn set his book and glasses on the table so he could grab Logan’s hips and haul him into his lap. Logan put his palm flat on Finn’s chest. “What if he hates me for it later? Even without meaning to.”

“Do you wish I’d told him he couldn’t come?”

“Non,” Logan said. “I just…”

“He’s not going to hate you. “This is the game. It’s the game. And you’re both part of it. He’s not going to hate you.” Finn shook his head, tapping playful fingers against Logan’s cheek. “Get out of your head, pretty little green eyes.”

Logan sighed. “Do you think we have food he likes?”

Finn tisked, but pulled Logan forward to kiss his forehead. “Yes, you sweetheart. God, do I tell you I love you enough?”

“Those chips,” Logan said, sitting up a bit. “Those spicy chips that he packs in his suitcase—”

“Ordered them,” Finn said. “But, Lo, he probably rented a house that he can fill up however he likes.”

“But he’ll be over here. On my courts.”

Logan got a little warm all over, picturing Leo out there. Walking past his pool. Maybe he’d even man the grill that didn’t get nearly enough use. He’d bring his long, lean limbs and sit on this sofa and…

Logan could still feel the touch of his hand on his lower back. We’re just dancing, Logan.

Finn’s phone began to ring from inside his pocket, making Logan jump from his place on his lap. He tried to think what Finn would say and it came easily. “Happy to see me, or something?”

Finn snorted and tapped his hip to tell him to move. “He’s landed.”

~

It was just as good as Logan imagined it would be. Leo had hugged him tightly the second he walked through their door. He’d hugged Finn tightly, too. Logan liked the way Leo had to stoop a little even to hug Finn. He liked the way Finn’s hand were firm on Leo’s back, just like they were on Logan’s after a win or loss. Finn sat Leo down outside on the patio by the pool and Logan trailed after, watching them. Finn offered food and drink, Leo chose a Cola, and Finn brought it to him on ice with a red and white paper straw because he was Finn and this was Leo and Logan didn’t know why it felt so very important that Leo was here but it did. It really did.

“The plane was fine,” Leo was saying. “And the city’s nice, but it’s gorgeous out here, though. You guys got a spot.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “Lo picked well. Where did you rent?”

Logan perched on the edge of the chair Leo had chosen. He sort of wanted to look at him while he was distracted by Finn. He already looked sun-golden and relaxed. He had that blue shirt on and his hair was shorter just now. The gray tuft looked like it had gotten sun, too. Logan still hadn’t asked him about that.

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t rent. I got a room at the Lion Hotel.”

“Non, non, non,” Logan said at the same time as Finn made a protesting sound.

“You’ll stay with us, then,” Finn said. “Leo. C’mon.”

Leo hesitated, sipping his drink. “It’s a nice hotel.”

“Non,” Logan said again. “You’ll just have to drive here everyday anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, or…” Leo’s eyes went between the two of them. “Really?”

“What are we supposed to do,” Finn said. “FaceTime you to help us cook dinner while you’re in the same city?” He smiled. “No, really, though. We’d…” He looked at Logan. “We would love to have you here with us.”

“Why didn’t you say you were coming? When I texted you the garden.” Logan realized he had almost started touching Leo’s hair—a habit with Finn—and pressed his palms to his thighs instead.

Leo tilted his head back to smile up at him. “Because you would have told me that we’d get to know each other’s games too well and that we shouldn’t.”

Finn let out a laugh from his chair across from them and crossed his socked feet on the table. “Oh, would he now, Leo? Do you hear that, Lo?”

Leo placed his straw between his teeth as he smiled. “Did I get it right or word for word?”

“Word, for, fucking, word,” Finn said pointedly. “Sprinkle in some worry that we won’t have any food you like.”

“Finn,” Logan hushed, and Leo laughed. He put a hand over Logan’s.

“You’re sweet.” Leo looked at Finn. “You’re both sweet. But yeah, I figured I’d go straight to Finn.”

Finn stuck his tongue out at Logan. “He knows I know I good idea when I see one.”

“Well, you took this one on, didn’t you?” Leo squeezed Logan’s hand before letting go. Logan wished he had turned his palm up into it.

Finn’s brown eyes darted between the two of them. He was biting his lip against a smile and messing with the condensation droplets around his soda. “I did.”

“I guess I’ll have to go get my things sometime tonight,” Leo said.

Finn waved a hand at the setting sun. “Do it tomorrow. We probably have everything you need here.”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “And you have, like, six rooms to choose from.”

“Oh yeah,” Finn said. “Do you want the tour?” He rolled his eyes at himself and put his glass down. “I say like it’s my house.”

“It is your house,” Logan said. “Like, this is your house, I am your house.”

Leo laughed as they went back inside. “Yeah, Finn, he’s your house.”

“You know what I meant.”

Leo swung an arm around Logan. “Do we?”

Logan gave him a shove, but not hard enough to dislodge his arm.

They took him through the house first and Leo put his phone down in the bedroom beside the master, so Logan figured that’s the room he wanted. It was the one Noelle chose whenever she visited. They went to the theater room, the basement that had a lower deck and a pool table. It was a lot of impressive stuff, but Leo seemed to appreciate the kitchen the most.

“Oh.”

Logan tucked his hand into Finn’s as Leo turned around in a slow circle, taking in the large kitchen. Finn squeezed.

“I bet y’all hardly use this beauty,” Leo said, brushing a hand against the stove.

“I’ll have you know I make eggs there every morning,” Finn said.

“Where’s your private chef at?” Leo arched a brow.

“She has the day off,” Logan said.

Finn scoffed. “I was about to tell a joke!”

Logan shrugged. “She does.” He looked at Leo. “But don’t worry she left a lot of prepped things in the fridge, so we’re good for dinner.”

Finn coughed jokingly over the words Leo’s risotto.

Leo smiled at him. “I’m happy to make you that, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Non, we wouldn’t invite you and then put you to work,” Logan said.

“Oh?” Leo walked back towards them, around the kitchen island. “I’m not here to work?”

There Logan went again, cheeks flaming. Finn squeezed his hand harder.

“Do you want to see the courts?” Logan asked hoarsely.

He squeezed Finn’s hand back.

~

A week went by in a flash. It felt like that first week with Finn, when he had grabbed Logan by both hands and yanked him out of the lonesome dark. It felt old as time, and brand new. Logan’s heart pounded, his laughs tumbled, and yet he’d never been calmer. Never more at ease. He’d never trained harder in his life, either. Finn on the sidelines, demanding more, more, more. Leo standing opposite him on clay, on hard court, in sun, in shade, in the night lights, demanding more, more, more. And Logan wanted to give. It filled Logan right up to give it to them.

He’d never felt stronger. He’d never played better. He’d never slept better, Finn cradling him, tightly pressed all along his back. He’d never eaten better, Leo’s delicious handiwork, Finn mixing him a drink, Logan helping him chop and prepare. Card games. Movies. And the laughter. Logan would live and swear by their laughter.

He was standing behind the outdoor bar by the pool and Finn and Leo were in the shallow end with a water set of paddle tennis. Watching them, listening to the tic tac of the light ball…Logan had never wanted to see two people play more. Really play. He’d give anything to match Finn’s grace with Leo’s lighthearted strides on a court in front of an audience. Anything at all.

“Did you just topspin this fucking ball?” Leo laughed. He was wearing sunglasses and his hair was darkened and slicked back by the water. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“I did use to play professionally!” Finn fired back.

“Honey, I had your poster on my wall—I know!”

Logan dropped the ice cubes he was holding and the clattered down to the floor in every direction.

“Oh did you now?”

Logan smiled to himself as he stooped to pick up the ice. He’d told Finn that and Finn knew it. They still smiled about it sometimes after spending a day with Leo in whatever city the three of them were lucky enough to be in.

And that one night. Staring up at a dark ceiling with Finn, just the two of them. Finn had asked what had felt, at the time, like a daring sort of question. Do you think he ever wished he could be with one of us? And, who do you think he liked better? Probably you. You always played better.

Logan had had so many words in his head that he could only get out a few. But he plays more like you.

~

Logan and Finn stared up at their dark bedroom ceiling on the tenth day. The next tournament was fast approaching. U.S. Open. Not far to travel. Hard court. Leo’s surface. But for now it was quiet. Leo in the next room.

This might’ve be Logan’s favorite part of life, actually. Though it was so hard to choose. But this. Finn’s head resting against his chest, nudging into Logan’s fingers through his hair while Finn said anything and everything that came into his mind…This had to be in his top three.

“You’re drop shots are stronger,” Finn mumbled. His fingers were, maybe without him fully realizing it, leaving goosebumps across Logan’s chest and stomach in the trail of his fingertips. “You have more control, it’s really good. It’s like Leo’s.”

“I think so, too,” Logan said.

“You’re the strongest you’ve been.” Finn pressed his palm over Logan’s core. “Here.”

“Leo’s hard to play over and over.”

“It’s beautiful to watch.”

Logan turned his head to run his lips along Finn’s forehead. “I like it when you watch.”

Finn smiled, turning his face into Logan’s chest. “Lo.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you get the sense…” Finn began. “That…Hm.”

“Hm?” Logan reached down and pulled Finn’s thigh further across his hips, smoothing a palm under the hem of his shorts.

“Do you get the sense that Leo…” He was whispering.

Leo, in the next room.

The sense. Logan’s fingers pressed into the muscle of Finn’s thigh, trailing down towards the bend of his knee.

Finn adjusted so he was looking down at Logan. He reached up and brushed a thumb against his eyelashes, then under his eye, then over his full bottom lip.

“You know that I’m yours,” Finn whispered.

Logan gave a small nod.

“And you’re mine.”

“Toujours.”

“If I were to say to you,” Finn whispered. “That I want to watch Leo kiss just…” He bent, aiming for his favorite soft part under Logan’s jaw, the part that spent more time pink from Finn’s teeth than not. “Here…As much as I want to kiss it myself…”

Logan drew in a slow breath, calming himself with the feeling of Finn’s hair slipping through his fingers. “Remember our Wimbledon dance? Leo and I.”

“God. Of course I do.”

“There’s this…feeling.” Logan cleared his throat a little, heat rising through his core. “With you. When you’re…” Logan squeezed his eyes closed and laughed. “Ugh, stop looking at me like that.”

Finn was grinning, eyebrows raised.

“Tell me,” Finn said, then dropped to a whisper again. “Tell me.”

Logan covered his eyes with a hand. “Non, c’est—embarrassed.”

“Hey, hey, c’mere…” Finn whispered, then took one of Logan’s wrists, then the other, and held them above his head. “When I’m what?”

“You know.” Logan’s hands flexed in Finn’s grip and—there it was. Light. The ball on his racket. Finn kissing him in velvet curtains. Finn gripping him in a hug so tight after a win that it took his breath away. Leo’s hand under his jacket. Finn’s gentle fingers massaging his sore ankles after a long day. Finn winning at cards. Leo winning at cards. Their faces when Logan won at cards, so so beautifully competitive, all of them. Finn’s head on his chest and dark ceilings. Leo pushing his head under the water in the pool, then pulling him back up again to breathe and laugh. Leo falling asleep against his shoulder half way through a movie.

“I do.” Finn had been watching him quietly. Brown eyes. Chocolate. Sugared espresso. Sweet. “I do know…”

You know what I’d choose? You. You. You.

“Leo, too,” Logan said. “Dancing…Laughing together these weeks. Leo, too.”

“Look at what this talk got you all like…” Finn whispered as he kissed Logan’s hot cheeks. “Look at you.”

Logan let out a short breath, hands tightening and loosening in air. He felt like he’d burn up if he didn’t get a grip on something, but Finn’s body pinned him.

“Settle down, I got you.” He captured Logan’s next sound in a kiss. “This? You want Leo doing this?”

“Shh,” Logan said, but his eyes slipped closed. He felt heavy. And light. “If he hears you he’ll think we’re—we’re weird or something.”

“Oh baby,” Finn whistled low, giving his head a slow shake. “I think weird will be the last word on his mind.”

“How do you know?” Logan worried.

“How many hours do you think I’ve spent watching the two of you play each other?” Finn kissed his jaw, his ear, his temple. “You think I don’t know how he looks at you?”

“How?” Logan swallowed a desperate sound. “How, how?”

“The way I look at you.” Finn’s mouth dragged along his cheek, back to his. “You think I don’t know how you look at him?”

Logan’s fists clenched in Finn’s hold and Finn let him go so they could tumble onto their sides with Logan’s arms around his waist.

Finn smiled. “It’s how you look at me.”

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 6: Harvest Season

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 5083 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

The cold morning tickled your toes protruding from the blankets that barely covered your body. You curled into a ball as you slept with your five sisters while the sun peeked through the hills of the green valley. They were squashed together like sardines to make the most of the small bed's cramped space. The room in the cabin where they lived was practically empty, they only had a small closet with all their clothes, some stuffed animals for decoration and a semi-transparent white cloth that served as a curtain. You were in your fifth dream when you felt a hand pulling your foot. You snapped your eyes open to see your mother at the end of the bed. 

“Let’s go to the market,” she asked you as you whittled your eyes wide awake. 

You nodded in response so as not to wake your sisters. You carefully slipped out of bed to get dressed in a brown dress, you wore it so much that it already had holes in the skirt. Your mother had sold most of your fancy dresses, so your sisters could buy new ones for the dances they were invited to. Your mother was always obsessed with the idea that one of her daughters would marry a rich man and take them all out of the misery in which they lived. Every morning she used to repeat the same thing: “Up my future princesses because men don't flirt themselves.” You quietly left the room and picked up the old worn-out basket they used to carry the loaf of bread and potatoes they could afford to buy. 

Since your father died a couple of years ago, money was always tight. Your mother, to keep her hopes up and not starve to death, had slowly sold all the furniture in the house. She started with the living room, then the dining room, then her bed and then the decorations. Little by little, they were running out of options. Someone had to sacrifice in the work field, and your mother would not be one of them. 

The sun was barely rising over the green horizon. It was too early to go to the human market, but you just followed your mother without question. The grass crunched under your worn boots and the cool air ruffled your hair. As you walked along the path you had created from the many times you had gone to town, your mother was quieter than usual. She was a hard woman to keep quiet, always having to have an opinion on something. “The mornings are horrible,” “it hasn't rained in months,” “everything is more expensive.” She always prattled on about any topic that crossed her mind, but today she was different. She just looked straight ahead, walked hurriedly and hadn't even wished you good morning. “Maybe she wants some peace,” you thought. You should have realized it at the time. 

You knew you reached the main town when the smell of fish intensified. Every morning, fishermen set out to sell their booty among the busy main streets of the Sukuna kingdom. A place full of humans who were ruled by curses. Since King Sukuna had conquered their lands along with his army more than five hundred years ago, the humans who had already lived there for centuries became easy prey for the hideous deformed monsters. Half of the population was eaten, while the other was left alone as soon as their stomachs were full. The only thing that stopped them from eating more was their own limits. From then on, the curses began to coexist with the humans. Only instead of treating them as equals, it was a cow-butcher relationship. 

Since the curses owned the main town, it was rare to see so many humans walking down the street. They were all heading in the same direction, the gloomy castle of King Sukuna. A striking architectural structure of charcoal color and huge windows with blood-red roses. It was so large that despite being surrounded by towering walls, you could still admire the rest of the castle and its imposing watchtowers. Your astonished gaze kept going up to admire the terrible place. Your eyes could not continue because the top of its towers were hidden among the gray clouds and the vultures flying overhead. 

Unfortunately, they had not arrived at the market but at the gigantic wooden bridge that led into the castle. Several curses in fine armor paraded around the perimeter as you watched two of them lead a lady into the castle. Your breath hitched as you realized what day it was. Today was harvest day. Once a year, King Sukuna asks those who want to work for him to report to the castle and in return their families would be rewarded financially, but everyone knows it's a trap. No one knows exactly what goes on inside the castle, but a tyrant who mistreats his people does not usually offer “work.” All the people know that once you enter his castle, you don't get out. Even though it is known that entering his castle was like entering a torture machine of your own free will. People in need of money or resources send older relatives or children they can't support to get rid of them. 

You dropped the basket in shock at why your mother had only woken you up so early and was so quiet. She was about to sell you. As soon as the basket creaked against the floor, you ran away to avoid your painful fate as the daughter who was betrayed by her mother. You didn't manage to run that far, because two curses pinned you to the ground. You screamed, kicked and twisted your body in failed attempts to escape. Your eyes filled with tears as soon as the curses lifted you off the ground to drag you back to the castle. It was the end, you knew that for a fact. 

“We must part ways, my adorable daughter,” your mother said goodbye without looking you in the eye. 

“Are you really going to sell me to the tyrant? You know what happens to those who enter!” You yelled while tears fell desperately down your cheeks. 

“Don't be like that, you know we need money. The king may be a tyrant, but sometimes he is generous,” she said as he showed you the sack of gold coins the curses give her for you. 

100 gold coins. That was all you were worth. All your years of life equaled a year's worth of food. Not even luxuries, expensive furniture or beautiful clothes. Your mother had traded you to eat one more year without worry. You hang your head in defeat. She was treating you as if you were a nuisance. One more pitiful mouth to feed. 

“I can work at the market, at sea, in mining, in anything!” You protested. 

“How are you going to work there? I educated you as a young lady so you could marry a rich man, and you failed me,” she emphasized, spitting in your face the disappointment she felt. 

Your chest ached, snot was building up in your nose and your eyes were beginning to redden from the hot tears coming from your sad heart. Your head was starting to hurt, you couldn't believe this was happening to you. You were always a good daughter. You were the perfect daughter, polite and compliant. What have you done wrong? The frustration of not being able to do anything was eating you alive.  

“Think of your sisters. With this money, they will be able to buy new dresses to impress rich men. Next week there is going to be a ball, they say King Gojo will be there,” your mother said excitedly. 

“Say goodbye to your mother, we must get you to the castle.” A curse ordered you with a harsh voice. 

“I don't have a mother anymore,” you mumbled between sobs. 

“My sweet daughter, don't be like that…” your mother called you with disappointment. 

“And you no longer have a daughter,” your mother gasped, surprised at the minimum act of rebellion. 

From the time you were a little girl, your parents knew you would be a good girl. You always did everything orderly, knew what to say to stay out of trouble and educated your sisters when they were wrong. You were the perfect daughter in their eyes. The only thing you weren't good at was talking to men. At dances none of them would come up to you and none of them would catch your eye. While the sister next in age to you, Yorozu, danced with almost everyone, you always stood on the sidelines as you watched the night unfold. Your mother always scolded you on the way home for not being good enough to get a husband, but that never mattered to you. You knew inside that someday you would marry a good man who could see your true potential. 

Curses threw you into the parade ground and closed the gate behind you. You felt worse than dirt itself, you wanted to lie on the ground where you belonged. You wished the earth would swallow you up and disappear at that instant, anyway, you had nothing left to fight for. You didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. 

A loud sobbing sound reached your ears, causing you to look up. A little blond boy was crying his eyes out as he desperately searched for his mother. You were in the same situation as him, only you didn't have a little teddy bear to cheer you up. In a place full of old people, no one wanted to pay attention to you. No one had enough energy to soothe the crying of a frightened child. 

You stood up and dusted off your dress. Quietly, you approached the child with a red face from crying. He was dressed in a torn white shirt and dirty overalls. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old. You got down on your knees to stand by his height and wiped away his tears with your thumbs before shaking off his clothes.

“I want my mommy,” the boy shouted as he sniffled. A lump rose in your throat. You wanted the one you used to have too. 

“She'll be back. You just have to be a good boy, alright?” You asked with a weak smile. The boy nodded as he rubbed his watery eyes. “Whatever you do, just behave well and she will come back.”

 “Do you promise me?” he asked you between sobs, raising his little pinky towards you. 

“Of course,” you answered, intertwining his little finger with yours. 

An old woman approached you both. A granny with a cotton head, raisin skin and a sketchy smile, handed him a piece of candy she had in the pocket of her once-white apron. The boy gladly accepted it, forgetting for a second why he was crying in the first place. Children were always easy to please. 

“Poor little boy. He hasn't even started his life, and he's already this lucky,” the old woman whispered to you as you watched him eat the candy and play with his teddy bear perched on the grass. You could only nod in sorrow.

After an hour of waiting and watching the curses hurl more sold humans onto the parade ground. The doors of the gigantic castle opened. A white-haired person with a red stripe and splendid white robes made an appearance along with a scroll under their arm. You stepped in front of the boy to hide him behind you. 

“Welcome to this year's harvest. Thanks to your relatives or communities, you have been chosen as the most useless beings of this year. So the great king Sukuna has decided to give you the opportunity to work for him as servants,” The person began to read the scroll aloud in front of everyone. 

A collective sigh was heard when he read the word “useless”. Most of them, being elderly, already knew that they were only a burden to their families. Therefore, there was no need to stress it further. It was like squeezing lemon on an open wound. 

“As every year, we give those who are completely useless a chance to leave. King Sukuna needs real servants and not stupid dogs.” Along with that announcement, the castle gates opened.

There it was, the door that would lead them to freedom right under their noses. Hearing that, most of them ran towards their escape route, desperate to return home to their loved ones. You took the child in your arms and were about to run away until the thought that the offer was too good to be true settled in your mind. “Those who go in, never come back” you thought. 

“Come on, dear, let's go,” the kind old woman asked you while she pulled you by the arm to escape quickly. 

“If they do this every year, why doesn't anyone come back home?” You asked her. “It's a trap, I can feel it.” The old woman looked at you puzzled at first, but understood your point after processing it for a couple of seconds. She was so blinded by the brilliant exit that she hadn't boasted about it. 

Once the first to escape was about to reach the door, the grille slammed shut. The evil laughter of hundreds of curses echoed through the place like a war chant. In less than a second, a gigantic flock of armored curses began to eat all those who were about to flee. A massacre, desperate screams and blood spraying everywhere. You had never seen anything like it in your life. You knew the curses were evil and ate humans, but you never thought it would be such a disastrous sight. You covered the child’s eyes. The lady covered her face as she realized the hell they had been sent to. 

“Traitor dogs do not deserve to live,” the white-haired person said as soon as no human who had tried to escape was left alive. 

“You were right…” the old woman whispered next to you between silent sobs. 

You looked back at the front of the castle while your eyes were still drowning in tears. The person who was summoning you was glaring at you, as if offended by your mere presence. You looked around, less than half had stayed. The other elders were crying, vomiting and some lucky ones hadn't even turned around to see what was happening. Your arms were shaking from the cold of the morning and the terror that consumed you whole. You squeezed the child against your body to protect it. A little creature was not to blame for being in a place like that. You had to protect him, it was the only way he would have a chance to survive. 

“I congratulate you for surviving the first round. My name is Uraume, and I am the right hand of your king, Sukuna Ryomen,” they introduced themselves in a loud, monotone voice so that we could all hear them. “Next you will introduce yourselves to the king. He will have the final word as to your fate,” they explained before returning to the castle. 

After finishing their feast, the other curses rounded up the survivors to form a line in front of the castle gates. They were sheep being led by shepherds who were also wolves. No one said a word, they only obeyed by bodily proximity to where they were supposed to be. You did not let go of the child at any time, you had already proclaimed yourself as his guardian. Maybe it wasn't the best idea in hell, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You were willing to protect him as if he were one of your little sisters. 

Your beloved little sisters. You hid your face in the little boy's hair so no one would see you cry. Once you entered the castle, you would never leave, either by slavery or death. You would never see your lovely sisters again. You would never see them play, comb each other's hair or sing happily after dinner. You cursed the time when you had grown up and were not woman enough not to marry someone. In your mother's eyes you were a disappointment and were to be discarded. You only prayed internally that your sisters would not have the same fate. Yorozu was only a year younger than you. If she did not marry soon, she too would be sold. 

The survivors passed 5 at a time into the castle. The walls were so thick that they could not hear what was happening on the other side. There were 5 more people left, and it was your turn to pass next to the old woman, who was repeating the same silent prayer several times. The curse at the front of the line signaled the 5 people to pass, making everyone move in sync. 

“The child must enter,” the curse ordered you. 

“But they already let 5 in. It's his turn to go in when I go in,” you defended, holding the little boy tightly. 

The curse smiled maliciously before snatching the child from your hands. The difference in strength was crazy. You managed to grab the child by his white shirt to prevent him from being stolen. The child began to cry out loud because the curse had hooked its claws into his back. The curse pulled harder on the boy, leaving you with only the torn piece of cloth in your hand. As you tried to reach him again, the curse kicked you in the stomach so that you fell to the ground. Your body fell, and your eyes could only watch as the boy was mercilessly thrown along with the others. 

“Just do what they ask you to do!” You shouted at the boy between sobs before another curse kicked you in the face to shut you up. 

The last thing you could see was his face full of tears and snot as you bled from your nose incessantly. The castle doors slammed shut as the curses taunted you. You didn't care what they had to say, you just wanted the child to be okay. The woman you had befriended helped you up as your chest closed, and your eyes hurt from crying. You couldn’t do it anymore. 

After about 10 minutes, the doors opened again. The curse kicked you in the back to get you inside. The old woman and three other old men followed close behind. A servant with a grim face welcomed you and led you into the king's hall. A room filled with luxuries along the walls, costly works, candles bathed in gold foil and glowing obsidian candelabras. It was a pity that the beautiful room was bathed in the dark blood of your kind. The walls were splattered, some candles had been extinguished because of it, and there were several dismembered bodies all over the room. 

Despite being surrounded by light sources, the deepest part of the room was in complete darkness. Where you assumed the throne was supposed to be, there were many curtains that kept the king in the shadows. The only thing you could see was one of his giant feet being struck by the light of a nearby candle. 

The servant asked them to stand in a side row so that the king could get a good view of them all. Once they obeyed, the servant retreated at a brisk pace. Everyone was silent. You could only hear their breaths being disturbed by the situation they were in. Your eyes traveled around the room. The bodies of the discarded individuals were cut into hundreds of cubes, making your blood run cold. It was an extremely perfect job, almost impossible to do. Had the king done that or was someone else in the room with them? You didn't want to see, but it was like a morbid exhibition of what an abominable being could do.

Your eyes roamed around the room in curiosity and terror, until they saw a teddy bear soaked in blood. The teddy bear of the child you swore you would protect. The child's head had been cut off, his eyes had popped out of his skull and were held in place by its corneas, and the rest of his body was completely mutilated into perfect rectangles of flesh. You closed your eyes and clenched your skirt to keep from screaming in despair. The frustration and disappointment in you could not be compared to anything else. You could do nothing to save him. You were pathetic. 

“5… 4…” The king started the countdown. For what? You had no idea. 

You knew you wouldn't have the answer if you asked him because of his reputation as a foul tyrant. You didn't know much about the dastardly king who reigned over the land of your birth, the only thing you knew was that he hated humans more than anything else in the world. You looked around for answers as to what exactly the king wanted. Nothing about the decorations gave you answers, the only thing that kept catching your attention were the bodies. “If he has servants, why are the bodies still here?” you thought the servants would get rid of them before bringing in any more prospects. 

“3…” His deep voice echoed through the walls along with a devilish smile. 

Sukuna watched you comfortably from his large stone throne, hand carved by the best sculptors in the region. He was amused to see your eyes darting everywhere. “What a fool,” you thought disdainfully. Nothing in the room could help you know what to do. 

“2…” You could hear a small smile escape his lips as he approached 0. 

You analyzed the bodies before you and they all met the same characteristic. None of the heads were connected to the rest of the body. Their heads had been cut off before they were mutilated. If none of them had heads, it is because they must have been at the same height, that is, they were standing when their heads were cut off. Standing in front of a tyrant? Complete blasphemy. That was it. That must have been it. 

“¡1!” 

“Get down, ma'am!” you yelled before pulling the lady down to the floor with you so she could kneel. 

You knelt with your head on your hand as a pillow while the other still held the lady's arm. A thin slice rang through the room. It was so fast that you didn't hear a scream or even a whimper, you only heard the bodies of the others in the room fall to the floor under their own weight. The blood of the old man next to you began to trickle down to your fingers. You didn't dare look at the result of what had happened. You were just relieved that you were in one piece. 

“Finally… Someone with manners,” the king uttered with disdain. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't go away. “The one in the middle, come closer,” he commanded. You were dead, you sensed it. 

You struggled to your feet and walked towards him without looking his way. You entered his little sacred place in the middle of the dark, but you could see him clearly. His pink legs were gigantic. His thigh was thicker than your legs put together. That already gave you hints of the giant in front of you. Despite being dressed in a large white robe, he still showed enough skin to be considered vulgar. As soon as you approached, his hand took your head easily as if it were a ball, directing your gaze towards him. Your eyes widened at the eerie sight in front of you. A malevolent face split in half that watched you morbidly. His four eyes roamed your body shamelessly. His half-naked body tattooed with different lines astonished you at a closer look.  

“How old are you?” He asked you while he moved your joints with his four arms as if you were a doll he could play with. You answered obediently between stutters. “Tell me, did your husband sell you?” he answered with a mocking tone. 

“I am not married, my king,” Sukuna arched an eyebrow at that response. You decided to elaborate your answer to that reaction. “My mother sold me because I didn't marry.” 

“You are still old enough to get married,” Sukuna said, still not letting go to observe you better. 

He turned and moved you around like a globe to inspect you completely. It's been a long time since I've seen a girl of your age, to be always in the castle or conquering lands, she always sees young men but almost never women. For someone of the lowest possible class, you had your certain charm. Sukuna saw you as if you were a strange doll in an antique store, odd but striking in your own way. 

“We were starving, my king.”

“It shows,” he replied with a certain mocking tone. “You know… I'm not used to seeing girls like you around here. They always send me decrepit old men or children who didn't die in their mother's womb,” he explained, annoyed. 

Despite the terrifying distance and the fact that your heart was pounding a mile a minute, you were glad he wasn't hurting you. He grabbed you by the head as if he were examining a fruit to dictate whether he could eat it or not, but he didn't squeeze you as if he were squeezing you between his claws. 

“I keep the old people because they work the hardest for their daily meal and I kill all the children because I hate how loud they can be.” You quickly realized right there that you never had a chance to save the child. An unruly tear rolled down your cheek, taking a second to mourn the little boy in silence. “So tell me, what should I do with you, kill you outright or give you a chance?” he asked you with a sinister smile. 

“Dying before I live through hell doesn't sound so bad,” you thought pessimistically. What was the point of going on living? Your mother had sold you, and you trusted that your sisters would marry before you, especially Yorozu, so you didn't have to worry about her. You no longer felt you had any value, but you were afraid of dying. That inexplicable, but useless fear left you frozen. Why did you want to keep breathing if you weren't going to live anyway? Your mind couldn't make up its mind. 

“I trust your decision, my king,” you replied in a sigh of surrender. 

Sukuna's smile disappeared, he did not expect that answer. I thought you would beg him for mercy for your life, but you had completely surrendered to him, leaving your fate in his hands. He smiled again, this time, satisfied. 

“Why?” he asked curiously. 

“Because you always have the last word.” 

“Interesting,” He answered before pulling you by the neck to bring you closer to his face. “You are someone special, aren't you?” Sukuna asked with eyes full of interest in you. He had found a gold nugget in a pile of shit. 

Your eyes slowly drifted to his. Have you heard correctly? Had he, an almighty king, called you special? You no longer knew if your heart was pounding from the flattery or being so close to the king. You were so close that you could decipher what he had for breakfast that morning, probably people. 

“Do you know how to cook and clean?” he asked quietly. You just nodded. “Well, you better not let me down,” he reluctantly let you go, making you stumble backwards. “Now get out of here with that old bitch so you get your uniforms,” he ordered with a harsh tone. 

“Thank you, my king. I will not disappoint you,” you thanked him with a weak smile as you bowed several times before retreating from his presence. 

Sukuna couldn't take his eyes off you. You ran to the shocked lady to help her out of the bloody room. She laid her head on her fist as she followed your anatomy. There was something about you that caught her attention. You were submissive, but you were not stupid. You were perceptive, but not rebellious. He liked what you had offered him so far, he just needed to do a little more observing. 

“Thank you very much, thank you, child, you saved my life!” The old woman cried once they left the room into a candle lit hallway. A small smile crept onto your face. You may not have saved the child, but you saved your new friend. “I am forever in debt with you.” 

“No need, ma'am,” you said so as not to make her feel guilty. 

“Mrs. Inoue,” she introduced herself in tears as she bowed politely, you did the same as you let her know your name. 

They both walked until they reached the end of the hallway where the few survivors were. An uncomfortable silence ruled the place. Mrs. Inoue and yourself sat down on a small bench to wait for instructions. Uraume and a group of servants carrying piles of clothes arrived not long after. Sukuna's right hand looked at everyone with disdain as the servants handed out the uniforms to the new servants who would be under her command. “So she survived…” they thought interested of you as you changed out of the old brown dress into the new uniform. 

You lifted the wet apron against the sunlight to check it for any unwanted stains. Your first anniversary as Sukuna's servant was a month away. You couldn't believe that you were about to complete one lap around the sun since you survived the harvest and received your maid's uniform. A long black dress with a contrasting white apron with black boots and a scarf in your hair to keep your hair off your forehead. You returned the apron to the sink to continue washing it by hand with soap and water. A small smile crept in as you realized you had survived the worst, you just hoped you had the same luck for the rest of your life. Now, you could rest for a very deserving week. 

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Life Jacket- Chapter 2

Hi!! Thanks for all the love on the first chapter! Sorry this out later than I expected but I couldn't stop writing and I didn't want to end the chapter at an odd spot.

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Conrad Fisher x Eldest Conklin Sibling Reader

Blurb | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~

The first day always went the same. Unpack, swim, shower, nap, dinner. Sometimes the first bonfire of the season was the first day we got there, other times it was the next day. This year it was the first. So today’s order was, unpack, swim, shower, nap, dinner, get ready, party. 

We all gathered around the table for dinner in our usual spots. My Mom, Belly, and me on one side,  Steven and Jere across from us, then Conrad on the end next to me, and Sussanah on the end next to my Mom. The spots never changed over the years, unless we had guests to squeeze in somewhere. The other thing that never changed was the food. Susannah was an amazing cook. She had taught me to cook over the years. I had spent many hours by her side being her ‘little sous chef’ as she called me. This summer she told me she would show me her old college food recipe hacks. 

I picked my head up from my plate when I heard Jeremiah’s voice, “So Y/n/n when do you leave for school? Do they have the swim team go early?” 

I nodded, quickly swallowing my food so I could answer, “Yeah I have to go early, It's not too bad though only 2 weeks before the regular move-in date. I leave on August 5th.”

Susannah spoke next, “We’re so proud of you, our little fish.” Everyone chuckled at the nickname, ‘little fish’. Susannah had been calling me that for years. 

“So what about you man when do you leave for training camp?” Steven asked Conrad, only he wasn’t the one who answered. Jeremiah did.

“He uh quit football.” Silenced stretched over the table. He what? I stared at him in disbelief, but in my heart, a part of me felt relieved for him. Being a student athlete isn’t easy and I knew Conrad only did football for his father. Sure he still loved the sport, but not enough. 

“What you quit? Why man, I would’ve killed to play college ball?” Steven asked Conrad but again he didn't respond, his mother answered this time. 

“He can always change his mind.” That made Conrad speak up, getting defensive towards his mother in a way I didn't usually see from him.

“I’m not gonna change my mind, I was just gonna sit on the bench all season anyway.” I sat quietly. I didn’t know what to say. Conrad and I bonded over our athleticism over the years, it felt weird to think we didn’t share that similarity anymore. 

I hadn't realized I was staring at him until he looked back at me, our eyes locked and yet I still couldn't move. You'd think it'd be instinct to look away but as he came into focus, we just stared. I tried my best to read him to understand why he might do that, Why would he quit? I knew he didn't love it but he had gone this far with it, What made him change his mind?

There was something unreadable in his expression I didn't think it was regret or nostalgia or sadness or anger but instead some combination of all of it. I wondered why. He looked away first turning his attention to his plate as he picked at the food in front of him. I didn't push him on it, I wasn't sure I'd push him on it later either. I’m sure he had a reason, maybe it’d be best if I just let him tell me if he wanted. 

The rest of dinner continued on like normal on the first night. Catching up, making jokes, and just being happy to be in each other's presence again. Everyone went their separate ways to get ready for the bonfire, and Belly and the moms stayed downstairs preparing for their movie night. Their tradition started a few years ago when Belly was 11, almost 12. That was the first year we went to a bonfire, Conrad and I were 14, and Jeremiah and Steven were 13. The bonfires were different then, we were with the younger crowd still unmixed from the older kids.  It was in the backyard of the house owned by a kid Jeremiah and Conrad knew from sailing camp. Belly was so upset she couldn't come with us. She was too young and we didn't want to have to watch out for her the whole night, or entertain her for that matter. I love my sister and she's gotten a lot better over the years but she loves attention, even though she won't admit it. Having her come meant that I would have to keep her by my side the whole night, that I couldn't mingle with new kids and make new friends. The moms promised to hang out with her that night. They went to the drugstore in town and bought a bunch of candy. Susannah made brownies and they watched a movie, a PG-13 movie which Belly thought was awesome at the time. 

I didn't do too much to get ready for the bonfire, it wasn't anything new, but I still like to look a little bit nice. It was the first time I was seeing everybody for the season after all. My hair was down, air-dried from the shower I took earlier so it had a natural wave to it. A little concealer under my eyes, some mascara, tinted lip balm, and that was that. I put on a tank top and some jean shorts with my navy Cousins Beach sweatshirt on top. It tended to get a little bit chilly on the beach at night. I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes catching on the shimmer coming from my ears. My pearl earrings, Susannah's pearl earrings. She gave them to me for my 16th birthday just like her mother did and I've treasured them every day since. 

I had to shoo the thought away as I felt myself getting choked up. I exited my room and went down the stairs, slipping on my very worn-in black Converse by the door.  I heard stories of people in college having a designated pair of shoes they called their ‘frat shoes’. This pair of black Converse was that for me over the summer.  They had been covered in sand, soaked from water, and scuffed with dirt, more times than I could count. 

As I finished tying my last lace, the boys walked down the stairs. I sat up, shoes now tied, and patted my knees, “You guys ready to go?”

“Yep let's do this we're taking my car. Y/N you promised to be DD for the night right? Don’t worry though I won’t drink too much anyway, wouldn't want to be hungover for my first day of duty, right Y/ N?” Jeremiah answered.

I laughed, “No Jere, you definitely shouldn't be hungover. Wouldn't look good for me either after I vouched for you to get this job. But yes I’ll be DD.” He laughed with me throwing his arm over my shoulder as we walked to the car. Steven called shotgun which left me and Conrad to sit together in the back. I hated to admit it to myself but he looked good. How someone could pull off a gray hoodie that well I didn't know, but he pulled off a gray hoodie and jeans better than I'd seen ever before. 

The drive was silent in terms of conversation but in the front seat, Jeremiah and Steven were singing their hearts out to Steven's ‘pregame’ playlist off Spotify. I kept my gaze out the window. Partly because I was still taking in the beauty of Cousins, partly because I could look at him. He looked too good and I always had to distance myself from Conrad before parties. I never knew how they’d play out with him. Sometimes he’d just stick close to us, the crew, and have a super fun night hanging out. Usually, that’s what he did when I was at the party with the guys but I’d been told the stories of his playboy party actions when I wasn’t there, and last summer I had gotten a glimpse of it. A girl named Nicole had come up to him and started chatting with him. Within seconds she was quite touchy-feely. Her hand was on his chest or upper arm, even playing with his hair every once in a while. I had whispered into Jere’s ear who was between me and the horny fest, “Who’s that?” 

Jere took a quick glance over his shoulder and then whispered back, “Nicole, she and Conrad hook up every once in a while.”

I furrowed my brows, “I’ve literally never seen her before.”

“They met at a party last summer when you had left for swim camp, I think her family like only comes out for August.”

I swallowed the information and then excused myself to get a drink. I stole a beer from the kid's fridge and walked back feeling a little bit better now that I had a drink in my hand. But when I looked up to find Nicole on her tiptoes kissing Conrad against the wall, the power of the drink in my hand ceased. I turned back to the kitchen, leaning against the counter by myself for a few minutes. I had my focus down on my hands when I suddenly looked up at the sound of the refrigerator doors flying open. It was her. She was seemingly grabbing a beer from the fridge the same way I had been just a second ago. I expected her to walk back out to Connie, but instead, she stationed herself on the counter, so I took that as my sign to walk back. It was the first, and only time since I had seen Conrad's fuck-boy behavior, but the stories continued, and I never let myself feel unprepared for the chance I might see it again.

Now sitting in the car with him I did just that as I watched the houses go by. The streets are littered with beautiful bloomed hydrangeas. Suddenly, my hair was pushed behind my ear. I turned my head as his hand draped its way down from my ear to the ends of my hair. His face was soft but I could see the dimples around his smile starting to crease. I shifted in my seat, nervous with his attention on me. 

“W-what are you doing?” I spoke lowly. Not that it mattered, Jere and Steven had no chance of hearing over our screaming.

“You’re hiding.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. And it left me speechless. “Your hair is always so soft, you’d think after years of chlorine that wouldn’t be the case.” 

That eased the tension a little, as the corner of my mouth turned up. “Well, that's because I wear one of those swim caps.”

He laughed, “I’d pay to have a picture of that.” 

I laughed with him, “Don’t say that to my mom 'cause she’d easily take your money for an exchange.” 

“Let's go!” Jeremiah shouted, exiting the car along with my brother. I hadn't realized we had stopped.

I looked over my shoulder to see Conrad hadn’t moved. His eyes looked at me like he was observing my soul. I held my breath. As if not breathing would help ease the bubbles floating around in my chest. 

I couldn’t bear it.

With an awkward laugh, I scooted out of the car and jogged over to Jere and Steven. I didn’t want to walk down alone. I knew the boys wouldn’t stay by my side the whole night, they’d go do other things within the first hour, but I liked to hold onto them for as long as I could. I didn’t mind the girls I’d met with the guys here over the years, but we were never that close. Nicole, Dara, Gigi, Marisa, and Shayla, we’d all lose contact over the school year. I also knew some people who weren’t from that crew. Some of them I knew from the swim club I used to do at the Country Club when I was little under the Fisher’s name. I wasn’t exactly supposed to be in the club seeing as I wasn’t truly a member but Susannah had a way of getting people to do what she wanted. Kindness can be blinding. The club was mostly made up of little boys, there were only 3 of us girls, Sydney, Ally, and me. Sydney was a nice girl. She was super smart, and ambitous, she’s set to start at Princeton for business in the Fall. Ally, I remained better friends with as we grew up. She was a dedicated swimmer like me so we even ran into each other sometimes during the school year at competitions. Ally was a total sweetheart, but she liked to have fun. She was easy to hang out with, she understood. I hoped they were here, I had forgotten to text them when I got to Cousins.

The fire wasn’t too crazy, they had to be careful not to draw too much attention from the cops. A big crowd of people had already formed though and it was only 9:30. I grabbed a cola from the cooler as I said hello to everyone coming up to us. Chit-chat was made with numerous people, and I couldn’t help but feel these conversations were really competitions for these kids. It was like every comment had to be a one-up to the one previous.

It was around 10:30 when a hand plopped down on my shoulder abruptly.  I assumed it was one of the guys but then he came into my eyeline, Peter Millington. 

“Yooo Y/N what's good?” He said a little slurred. As he moved to stand in front of me his hand dropped from my shoulder. 

“Hey Peter,” I laughed. Peter was a good guy, he was flirty but it was harmless. Annoying, but harmless. I met him at the swim club when we were 10. 

“So miss big shot where you heading this fall?  I’m sure schools across the country were practically begging outside your front door!” 

I laughed, “I won’t deny that, but I’m actually not going far. I’m gonna be going to Harvard.” His mouth hung open.

“No shit.”

“Yes, shit. How about you, still swimming?” 

He shook his head, “Nah nah, I’m trying to be a sports agent, I’ll be going to Penn State.”

“That’s great, congrats.” I smiled at him. 

He pointed at me a big smirk spreading across his face, “Yeah so you better remember me when you go all famous.” He finished his statement by slightly hitting the side of my arm. 

“You got it Pete, I won’t forget you-”

“Belly what the fuck!” My head snapped and my jaw dropped. I took off over to them. I sort of abandoned Pete but eh, he’ll be fine. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Steven yelled.

I smacked his shoulder once I had run up to them. “Stop yelling! You’re making a scene!” I whisper-shouted at him. 

Then I turned my attention to my baby sister. My baby sister, who wasn’t supposed to be here. My baby sister, who was just talking to a man 5 years older than her. My baby sister, who chose to wear a tiny skin-tight pink mini dress. My clueless, trouble-causing, baby sister. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked her as calmly as I could. 

“What I can’t go to a party?” She bit back defensively.

Excuse me? She didn’t get to give me shit for being concerned when she's the one who showed up out of the blue. I scoffed, “Did I say that?”

“What are you even wearing Belly we are on the beach why would you-“ 

“Steven. Knock it off. Go hang out with Shayla.” This was getting too aggravating. Steven was instigating too much, he must have already pissed Belly off by the time I ran up and now I had to deal with it.

“Did Taylor tell you to wear that or something?” I asked Belly, trying my best to figure out what was going on without having to have an argument in the middle of a party. 

“Why can’t I just dress nicely without being questioned?” Why the hell was she being so defensive? 

 “Again did I say that?” I couldn’t hold back the bite to my tone.

She rolled her eyes before looking at me. But then her gaze sharply caught something over my shoulder. I turned to look. Jeremiah. Drunk off his ass. Standing next to the fire trying to strip and go skinny dipping. He had already stripped off his sweatshirt, shirt, shoes, and socks. 

“Great.” I scoffed, running over to my now 2nd problem of the night. 

When he saw me running over he smiled brightly, “Y/N! We are going swimming come on! OH MY GOSH Belly! You’re here! You come too!”

Belly laughed beside me and I would’ve thrown a dirty look her way if I had the energy to spare. 

“No. No one is going swimming. It’s pitch black, the rip currents are crazy, and you are wasted. That’s all recipe for disaster.” I said authoritatively. 

Jeremiah pouted. “Please?”

“No. Now put your clothes on.” 

“Booooo.” Was he serious? He swayed as he re-dressed, his shirt blocking his vision. Good god.

“And get rid of the drink Jere, You’ve had enough.” 

“Ughhh fine party pooper.” Before I could stop him he threw his drink into the fire. 

“Jere-” The fire grew, a blaze lighting the beach. Shouts were heard as other drunk idiots followed Jeremiah’s lead and fueled the fire. “I can’t with this, Jere hang out with Belly.”

He smiled at that, “Alright come here belly button sit with me by the fire.” She giggled and obliged.

I took a deep breath, my feet taking me to the shoreline without even thinking. I needed to calm down. The chaos was overwhelming. I sat down on the sand a few feet away from where the water reached. The breeze flowed against me and I felt my mind begin to ease. This. This is why I always loved Cousins. I will never feel as at peace as I do when I’m next to the ocean. Water just calmed me down. I was the little fish. 

I hoped that would never change. I hoped I would always be the little fish, no matter how big or how small the pond. No matter what happened down the line, the peace I felt by the water would never be disturbed. I’d always be, as Susannah so deemed me, a little fish. 

I felt a plop next to me in the sand. I knew who it was without even looking, I could simply feel his energy. It was Conrad. He looked out on the water as he placed whatever drink he had in his hand down next to him. I kept my gaze out on the water as well. It felt good to just sit with somebody. With him. 

“So you go around telling everybody you’re going to Harvard?” He said, slight humor in his tone.

I sighed, “I mean only when anyone asked.”

“No shouting from the rooftops?” 

“No shouting from the rooftops. I’m not a big bragger.” I snickered, and so did he.

“You? Please! You have always been humble but you never shied away from sharing your accomplishments. You should be proud of yourself, it’s a big deal.” I just shrugged in response.

“I’m proud of you.” I looked at him then. His eyes were full of sincerity. I don’t think he knew how much that meant to hear. I caught his eyes flicking to my lips. 

Wait what-

He was looking at my lips and when he looked back up his eyes shone with vulnerability. I couldn’t help myself when my eyes dipped down to look at his. I imagined what it’d be like to kiss him. His soft pillowy lips moving against my own. I wondered where he’d put his hands. He seemed like the type of guy to cup the back of your head. I’d feel the weight of his hand as he pulled me into him like he was desperate for our connection. Maybe one hand would fall to my hips or my thigh, acting like an anchor. 

I couldn’t let my mind wander too far. Lord knows where that would lead. When our eyes met the tension was unmistakable. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself fall into him. I’d never stand back up. 

“Stella? Alright, thanks man!” 

Spell broken. Peter had just snatched Conrad’s beer from its spot between us and was taking a big slug of it. 

“Pete what the hell?” I said, standing up from my seat on the sand. 

“Dude give me my beer back.” Conrad stood up as well, Pete was standing between us. 

“Whaaaat? You weren’t even drinking it man! It was just- you know just sitting there and all the- all the other Stella’s are gone.” He was plastered. I felt my chest sink. This isn’t gonna go well.

“I don’t give a fuck if there aren’t any left, that one is mine now give it back to me.” Conrad defended.

“Connie come on-” 

“It’s just a beer man.” Pete turned to face primarily towards Conrad. 

“Exactly, so give me my beer back and get yourself your own.” 

“No.”

“Pete come on you definitely don’t need another drink.” I approached him, going to put my hand down on his shoulder to try and calm him down. Then just as I did he rolled back his elbow saying,

“Oh fuck off.”

I fell to the ground. His elbow collided right with my ear and the side of my face. Well, that hurt like a bitch. I’ll have a black eye on my first day back to work. Awesome.

“Y/N-“

I kept my eyes clenched shut for a minute before I felt a hand come to my shoulder, it was Belly and Jeremiah helping me up. My ears rang for a minutes before clearing. I watched as Steven and Jere broke up the fight. 

Conrad looked at me as Steven pulled him back. I shook my head and looked away. Actually, I looked right at the flashing blue and red lights now coming from the top of the dunes. Cops, awesome. 

“Enough!” I snapped everyone out of it, “Let’s go! Come on!”

I grabbed Belly’s hand as we ran up to the car, glancing over my shoulder quickly to make sure the boys were behind us. 

“Jere keys!” I caught the keys as he tossed them to me, unlocking the car doors. “In! Now!”

I started the car, a scowl on my face. My head felt like it was vibrating but it wasn’t like any of them could drive with their intoxication level. I couldn’t believe them. How on earth did they think it was appropriate to act like this?  I kept my eyes on the road, but I was sure they could feel the anger radiating off of me. 

“Y/N look I-“ Steven started but I cut him off.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” 

Then Jeremiah came in, “We didn’t mean to-“

“I said I don’t wanna hear it! Unless you want me to hit a drunk teenager stumbling home, you’ll shut up and listen to me! I’m distracted enough by the pinging in my head.” 

They were silent after that. 

I was mad and I had plenty of reason to be. I had been in this position with my sibling plenty of times, a few with Jeremiah, but never Conrad. I knew he started fights occasionally, but never with me around. 

I pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Then I child-locked in all those mother fuckers. I unblocked my seatbelt and positioned myself to be able to see them all. Steven and Jere struggled to open the doors while Belly sat in the middle confused. To my surprise Conrad just sat in his seat, his focus down in his lap, he made no objections. Once the three backseat idiots figured it out they looked to me expectantly. 

I raised my brows, “What you thought just cause I didn’t want you distracting me while driving you were gonna be off the hook?”

“Y/N what do you even care? You’re not our mom.” Belly said, rolling her eyes.

She only fueled my anger, “Yeah no shit I’m not 'cause Mom wouldn’t have put up with even an ounce of the crap you guys pulled tonight. Do you think I like playing mommy? Do you think I wouldn’t have rathered to enjoy the first night of my summer stress-free? You are lucky I’m a good sister, 'cause I could so easily walk inside and tell Mom everything that went down tonight. Then maybe you’d realize that having you deal with me instead of mom, is me being nice.”  I watched my sibling's attitudes deflate. Jeremiah on the other hand was sitting there trying and failing to hide the smirk from his face. “What’s so funny Jeremiah? Do you think I’m not talking to you too right now? All of you put me in bad positions tonight because of how you acted. ”

Jeremiah chimed in again, “We weren’t that bad.”

My jaw dropped, “Not that bad? Let’s see who should I start with. How about you Jeremiah, I stopped you from getting naked in front of every teenager in cousins, potentially drowning and killing yourself, and even after I did that you acted like an idiot! Throwing alcohol into the fire, you’re probably the reason the cops came! Oh and just the cherry on top, the fact that you’re wasted after promising me you wouldn’t be.” He was quiet now. 

“Steven had to cause a whole scene, but I’m not even that mad at him because he was right to be questioning you Bells! How the hell did you even get there?”  

She peeked up sheepishly, “I walked.” 

“You walked? Belly do the Moms even know you came to the bonfire?”

“No, I snuck out.”  She spoke in a quiet tone.

“Jesus Bells! If you had just told me you wanted to come I would’ve vouched for you. For god sake, I would’ve given you a ride!” My head pounded. I rubbed my forehead trying to ease the pain, I needed some advil. “You guys can’t act like that. It’s dangerous, and quite frankly embarrassing. I’m just- I’m done dealing with it.” I took a breath and unlocked the doors, “Go inside guys. Go to sleep.” I sat forward with my head in my hands. I heard the doors open and close as they got out without a word. 

Except he didn’t. I didn’t look over at him. I honestly didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t know how I felt at the moment. 

“Are you ok? Is your head alright?” He had worry in his voice and I couldn’t help but feel a flutter in my heart. 

“I have a headache and I’ll probably wake up to a huge bruise on my cheek but I’m fine.”

“How come you’re not mad at me too?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t mad at you.” I felt his eyes on me the whole time but mine stayed forward at the house. 

“You didn’t yell at me like everyone else.”

“Because I didn’t know what to say to you not because I’m not mad at you.”

A beat passed. Just us sitting in the car before he spoke up again, “I’m so sorry you got hurt, Pete was plastered-“

“You could’ve just let him have the beer.”

“Y/N I wasn’t going to-“

“Look it’s been a long night, just- just go to bed Con.” I grabbed the keys and left the car. I hadn’t looked at him once and I didn’t look back at him.  I couldn’t. I don’t even think I was truly mad at him, I mean it was Pete’s fault, not his. I was more overwhelmed with tonight’s events and I didn’t have the energy to unpack anything right now. My head was pounding and I needed to lay down. Work would be a nightmare tomorrow morning. 

I went straight into the shower when I got inside. I gave myself a quick rinse. Susannah always stoked our bathroom with luxurious bath products for me and Belly. But I know Steven liked it too.

I walked into my room and plopped right down onto my bed. Man, it was soft, and it only seemed softer after a hard night. 

I went to grab my phone when I saw it. A water bottle, advil, an ice pack, and a cookie, sitting on my bedside table, and I most certainly didn’t put it there. I knew who did. I knew it was him, and I could feel myself smile a little. I felt myself forgive him, he was hard to stay mad at. He wouldn’t mention it, I probably wouldn’t either, but we knew that we knew. That was enough. 

For now.

~~~~~~~

Tag list:

@mid-80s @geekinthefuschiahair @paytonloiselle

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Not too sure if you're bored of these yet but have another ask.

Reader's work. Do they work at home or not? If they don't, what's the day like for hybrid Bakugou who's stuck home alone? If they do, how do they keep Baku busy every now and then while they work? Cause we all know sometimes we have to sadly get rid of distractions to get some work done, even if it's one ya want~

Finally in a writing mood!!!! Sorry for the wait my angel, thank you for your patience!!

For reader’s work, I imagine you to have a job in law (bc I do) since reader is so passionate about equality for hybrids. You spend a fair bit of time in the office, but you’re allowed to go home frequently enough to make sure Katsuki is okay.

It’s horrible leaving him by himself for long hours of the day. Your mornings usually consist of you hunting down your shoes since Katsuki hides them from you, and they often have bite marks from his mauling. You then have to encourage him to eat something before you go, because you know he’d probably nap too much or forget to eat out of anxiety rebelliousness.

Soooooo, what do you do with a pouty pup who gets anxious when you work? You give him as many toys as possible! Since living with you, you have given him so many toys that he is often spoiled for choice. Squeaky chickens, rope toys, balls, the whole works. He could spend many an hour chewing on them and gnawing holes in them.

Then of course, you have the TV. Katsuki didn’t understand it at first, barking and snarling viciously at the screen when he first settled in. But now he races to grab the remote before you can, chuffing victoriously when he clicks to a nature documentary. You can only roll your eyes playfully as he settles on the couch whilst you make his favourite breakfast of sausage and bacon butties.

He sits for hours watching the soothing waves of the ocean and its inhabitants, of lush rainforests and harsh deserts. You often hear him growl at the TV when smaller prey animals are on the screen, and you can practically feel his drool drip onto the couch. You serve him his breakfast with a gentle rub between the ears, then get ready and fight him for your shoes.

With a final goodbye kiss, your hybrid is left to his own devices. You taught him your phone number in case he needed it, but he much preferred when you called him. So he sits and waits for you to come back. He watches TV for a while, potters around the house and naps. For lunch he waits for your phone call, sitting in almost silence bar a few grunts or growls when you ask him questions. He’ll then potter to the fridge and heat up the food you left him.

You had been teaching him to cook. He was quite the natural, but he was still learning and you didn’t quite trust him to cook by himself just yet. He eats lunch, naps more and plays with his squeaky toy. If he’s lucky, FatGum video calls him with his best friend Kirishima. The two puppy-boys stare at each other as they communicate.

It was abysmal, the guilt that rotted in your tummy after leaving him alone for so long. That’s when you had the most amazing idea ever. So, you changed up your routine. Along your journey to work, you passed by FatGum’s farm.

Katsuki waited for you on the couch as you finished getting ready for work. You wandered into the living room, yet again tutting at the state of your backup shoes that Katsuki had mauled. He smirked indignantly. You shook your head.

“Kats, go get your shoes. You’re coming with me today, I have a surprise!” You told him, grabbing your jacket. Katsuki stared at you.

He would never admit the thump in his heart. Was he bad? Were you sick of him?? Were you getting rid of him?!

“Well, go on. I have to be at work soon, so hurry,” you ushered him gently. Katsuki swallowed as he stared at you. You caught on almost immediately as your gaze softened.

“I promise you Kats, it’s a really nice surprise. I’ve not lied to you before, have I? Go on, I’ll wait for you,” you promised him softly, rubbing his sandy ears.

Katsuki stood up shakily, walking to his room. He was sure you’re going to get rid of him. He prays that you would do good on your promise to love him forever. He slowly makes his way downstairs, you smiling at him gently as you held out his jacket. You fixed his collar for him, the silver tag with his name and address soothing his nerves.

You’d never get rid of him if you’re making him wear his collar.

Katsuki followed you to the car, sitting in front as he puts on his seatbelt. After doing the same, you pet his ears proudly.

“My good boy, such a good boy,” you coo. Katsuki’s tail swayed against his will, causing him to pout as you giggled. You drove the familiar way to work, but caused him to blink at the destination you stopped at.

FatGum’s farm.

You get out the car, opening his door and walked to the door. An excited series of barks akin to gunshots sounded off as a happy redhead bounced in the window. FatGum opened the door with a laugh as a streak of red bashed into Katsuki, sniffing and chuffing his best friend.

Katsuki couldn’t help his wagging tail as he sniffed his friend back, growling a little when he was caught smiling.

“I feel so bad leaving you alone during the day. So, whilst I’m at work, FatGum said you’re more than welcome to spend the day here! You’ll be helping him of course, with some work here and there but it won’t be difficult,” you explain happily.

Katsuki stared at you with wide eyes, Kiri clinging to him happily. He walked to you slowly, before resting his forehead against yours with a gentle bump. His carmine eyes were soft as they looked at you through blonde eyelashes. You felt his gratitude as you gave him a hug and bid him farewell, leaving him to play with his best friend.

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (3)

(2)

Palestine: what can you do

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: near-death experience, Caitvi being the cutest.

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Annoyance prickles you all the way home. You feel a little exhausted after having your shields around yourself for so long, and if it wasn't for the stupid wolf, you'd be fine. You can't shake your irritation: you even offered the wolf peace, and it still attacked you! You keep in mind that the wolf might not be lucid - like it was with the bear, and you had to bring it back to the human form while avoiding getting killed - but on the other hand, it moved away when you threatened it with magic. 

“Fucking weres.” You spit and trip on a root. “Ouch. What, you have a soft spot for them?” 

The woods don't answer and you huff. You're used to the forest’s weirdness and mood swings, but sometimes you don't understand them. Who would have thought you can have an argument with a forest? But you had, on multiple occasions, and it showed that the forest remarkably worse at communicating than an emotionally stunned man.

When you see your hut, you let your shields down and take a long, tired breath. The wolf destroyed your sense of safety in the woods, and it makes your blood boil from fury, but you take another breath and try to calm down.

After all these years your anger is still the hardest to control. You still shake with the desire to just hit something, but it is still better than the desire to choke someone until they go cold and stiff. But it's hard to let go of this irritation and you haven't found a way to let it out-

Oh. Actually, you know a way. 

You sigh and slump on your porch to take a small break and recharge. The shields around the hut are not powered by your flow of magic, rather than by the bunch of stones and threads underground that you have to charge from time to time, so at least this is not draining you right now.

Fucking werewolf. 

You look over the edge of your shields and get angry again at the wolf. Your anger springs you into action, and you go inside your hut to get your things together. You take the fish out and put it in the chest full of ice - you're not cooking dinner today, you have no patience for it. 

You put another bottle of special tincture and head out, eager to go somewhere where there's no crazy werewolves. You're grim and the woods feel it, and they're rightfully offended by your attitude, but you can't bring yourself to care right now. Your mood is not directed at them rather than at one furry monster, and you know the forest knows it too, so you don't bother with sorries or excuses: you are not going to lie about your feelings, and you're tired from bottling up your anger.

As if not feeling anger is a goddamn requirement to be a good person.

When you're out of the forest, the sun gets closer to the horizon, and the evening's lights are beautiful enough for you to forget your spite for a moment. 

Then you continue stomping your way down the path and past the village, until you reach the odd house. 

You knock, shifting from foot to foot, and wait for someone to open the door. It takes a moment, but then Vi opens the door and the suspicion on her face turns into surprise when she sees you. 

“Damn, what happened to you?” 

“Can you spar with me?” You ask impatiently and come inside when Vi lets you in. 

“Is it a bottle in your sac, witch?” The dwarf grins and you roll your eyes. “I'm always happy to kick your ass, don't worry.”

“Thanks.”

Vi leads you to the kitchen where Caitlyn is cooking something and you shiver when you feel her magic: elven magic comes from stars, so it always feels cold. It's unnerving and makes you feel deep loneliness, and you don't know how Caitlyn deals with it. Do all elves feel as lonely as her magic makes you feel? 

But then Vi leaves a quick kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek and you chuckle. Vi, as any other dwarf, works with fire and metal, she always runs hot or is covered in coal, so you guess she balances Caitlyn and keeps her warm. 

“Darling!” Caitlyn smiles and hugs you, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. “You came back earlier than I expected.”

“She is going through some shit.” Vi immediately tells on you and you throw her a nasty look. “Listen, I didn't come here and ask to spar instead of saying hello.”

You huff and sit down on a soft chair, unloading your sac on the table. Vi grabs the bottle right away, but Caitlyn gently takes it and places it on the shelf. 

“Did anything happen?” The elf asks carefully and you let out a depressed snort. Caitlyn pours tea for all of you while Vi grumbles that she wanted her booze, but she still takes a sip.

“Another fucking were.” You say, defeated.

“No fucking way.” Vi groans. She was the one who had to deal with the bear after you brought it back and let's just say, they both didn't enjoy the experience, cursing and cussing at each other nonstop.

“It chased me to the hut, tried to jump me at least five times, refused to change back into human form and took Sevika's den. And when I warned it that she will come back and kill it, it made me walk backwards until I was out of its territory, growling and snarling at me. Un-fucking-believable.” You sigh. “And I'm so anxious my magic became unstable. I almost boiled myself alive.”

Caitlyn's face is so full of sympathy and concern it's hard to look at, so you look at Vi instead. She looks puzzled and just as annoyed as you are. 

“Is it a bear? Again?” Vi asks and it's almost funny how she is still full of spite after the werebear. “Why do you always get the crazy ones?”

“They fucking sense my own crazy.” You grump. “It's a wolf. A giant one, I've never seen them this big.”

“Probably an alpha, then.” Caitlyn says. “It's strange. Wolves live in packs.”

“Well, this explains the aggression.” You try to joke, but you sound more anxious than before. “I fell into the river today because of it.”

Vi cackles and you want to punch her. 

“So I'm angry. This is why I want to spar.”

“I think it is not wise for you to spar with Vi when your magic is unstable. I much prefer my starlight healthy and happy.”

Vi is clearly embarrassed by being called starlight - as always - but Caitlyn's loving look stops her from complaining and you from teasing. Elves are infinite and their love is too big and encompassing for mortals, however long they can live (Vi has another 500 years ahead of her, you think), and it's too much sometimes. 

“Have you been meditating like I showed you before?”

You feel stupid. 

“No.” You sound embarrassed, as you should be, but again - your anger management is still work in progress. 

“Well then. Let us go to the garden and I will guide you through it. Then you can spar with Vi, if you still wish to.”

You nod and follow Caitlyn. 

It's dark when Abby wakes up, and she feels better. The food and sleep helped her recover, and now she can finally change into human form to treat the rest of her wounds. 

The problem is, she doesn't have any supplies, since you took all of the moon peppers. So she will have to find something that will help her before she returns to her human form. 

For a brief moment she considers talking to you, since you are too weak to be a threat, when she gets better, but then she remembers you standing next to her blood stains near the den and the consideration is forgotten. 

So Abby cautiously shows her nose out of her den and takes a long sniff. Thankfully there is no one around who can hurt her, so Abby gets to her feet and goes for her search. 

Her wolf nose is more sensitive and she can smell more plants and animals around her than when she is a human, and it takes her less time to get to a comfrey bush. It's not in bloom, but Abby can still use it on her injuries to help with some of them that still bleed. 

Abby takes a breath and turns into her human form. She stands on her fours, shaking and grunting as the new level of pain washes over her body, but it slowly subsides. Abby is breathing deeply through it until her head stops spinning and the shaking goes away. Then she is able to sit down and check herself. 

Abby slowly raises her shirt up and winces in pain. Her right side has three deep long scratches that have been closing but not fully, so her shirt is soaked in blood, but that is what comfrey can help with. Her left thigh and calf have seen better days, and the hole from the claws stings painfully when Abby tries to move. It might be infected already, and this thought terrifies Abby. She thinks about going into the village to see their healer, but she might give herself away, so she will have to deal with it herself. 

Abby slowly breaks a few stems and starts turning them into mush - it would have been easier if she actually had a mortar, but alas, she has to adapt to her current situation, so she just kneads the stems in her hands until it's as gooey as it could get. Then she applies it to her side and moans in pain. 

“Fuck.” Abby whispers, but the mush helps immediately: her werewolf healing is way faster than anyone's in the world and her wounds finally close for good. It doesn't mean it's healed fully, but at least Abby stopped losing blood and avoided infections. 

Abby smells her former packmates one second, and the next second she is back into her wolf form. They're surrounding her from every direction and Abby tries her best not to panic, but somewhere deep in herself she knows she is not going to make it this time. There are obviously more wolves than before, hell, did Isaac bring the whole pack just to end her?

Abby hears growling from behind and turns around to face her threat, but the blow comes from the side, and Abby falls. She expects them to immediately go for her throat, but the wolves step away, clearly waiting for her to get up. 

Oh, so this is going to be a whole humiliation party, Abby thinks, but stands up anyway. They want to make an example of her - well, she is not going to let it happen. If Abby is going down, someone will go down with her. 

Abby narrows her eyes and tries to pick up Isaac’s scent and attack him, but he is nowhere to be found. Abby then moves to her closest target and attacks the wolf, going straight for their neck - it's a weaker one and Abby is sure she is going to kill it, but they're quick and Abby misses, falls on her feet again.

Someone jumps on top of her and bites into her shoulder, but Abby throws them off and leaves a nasty bite on their stomach - even if they escape, they will die on their way home. That brings her some satisfaction, but it's short-lived: another wolf jumps and bites her scruff. It hurts, but Abby throws them off again.

Then they're relentless: she throws off one wolf and another attacks her. Abby is getting exhausted and it's hard to get up now, but she still does. Her hind legs are shaking and her just closed wounds are open, but she snarls at her previous packmates, not giving up. 

Abby is happy she doesn't pick up Manny's scent among them. 

Suddenly wolves stop and step away, and Abby smells Isaac. Fucking coward waited until his wolves tired Abby out so he would stand a chance against her. He'd never win in an alpha on alpha fight, and everyone knows it. It makes him look pathetic and Abby knows wolves can smell her contempt and feel how Isaac's presence triggers her alpha’s pheromones. Some wolves whine, scared of her even when Abby is so weak she takes two tries to stand up, and Abby's smells like boasting. 

Isaac growls and shows off his own pheromones, but Abby overpowers him by a mile, which in return pisses him off and he lunges at Abby. 

They clash and Abby puts all her strength into most fatal attacks, clawing at his most vulnerable spots, but Isaac gets away from her.

Abby is panting and shaking, she is getting dizzy as her body starts to give up, and Isaac feels it. He lunges again with more force and keeps biting and clawing, waiting for Abby to slip up. 

And Abby slips up. 

Fangs sink into her throat and Abby whines as a piece of meat gets ripped out of her. She can't breathe, she is choking on her own blood as everything starts to fade away. 

Her former pack leaves only when all of them are sure Abby is dead and her heartbeat can't be heard and her scent can't be smelled. 

Isaac huffs in triumph at Abby's lifeless body and leads his pack out of the woods.

“So, do you still wish to spar with Vi?” Caitlyn asks after you finished your meditation. It's not the most comfortable experience and you'd really like to have some hot tea now, but you feel calmer and the flow of magic in your body is more stable. 

“No. Thank you, Caitlyn.”

The elf smiles gently and leads you back to the kitchen where Vi is already sipping your tincture. 

“You can't be left alone, can you?” Caitlyn sighs lovingly and Vi grins. 

“Try it. It's great. Not to your posh elven standards, your majesty, but you will like it anyway.”

Caitlyn huffs, embarrassed, and lightly slaps Vi's bicep. She just chuckles, catches her hand and leaves a gentle kiss on her palm. 

“You're adorable.” You coo and Caitlyn smiles at you. “I think I'll be going now. The forest wasn't happy with me.”

“Just like that?” Vi complains. “Next time bring two bottles.”

You laugh and leave after saying your goodbyes to the odd couple. 

It's dark outside now, and you come back to the forest with a lighter heart than before. The forest is silent, but you don't feel any anger towards yourself, so you're a little puzzled. 

And then your path suddenly makes a wrong turn. You don't question it and just follow wherever the forest leads you: it happens from time to time and you're always happy to help, especially now, when you're in such a good mood. You get suspicious when you recognise the path leading to Sevika’s den, but then it takes a different turn and you calm down. This is the way to comfrey and you walk confidently since it's familiar.

You reach the bushes and then you see blood on the ground. Oh, this is not good.

You follow the blood and you see the big shadow of the wolf on the ground. You flinch, scared it will attack you again, but it doesn't make a sound and it doesn't move. You come closer and now you can see it’s covered in blood and its back doesn't rise like it's supposed to if it was breathing.

“Fuck." You whisper. "Hey!” You call, but the wolf doesn't react. 

You make a few steps closer and then you run to the wolf when you exactly how much blood is there. There's a giant hole where its throat is supposed to be and you feel the cold dread crawl on your back. 

“Fuck. Fuck! What do you want me to do?” You ask the forest angrily. “I'm not powerful enough, I can't do shit!” You're on the verge of tears: yes, the wolf is annoying and scary, but it doesn't deserve to die! 

The woods respond with a gentle warm breeze and you take a deep breath as your fingers grip wolf's fur. Okay. Okay, there is an option which you're afraid to use, but it will work. Well, if the forest agrees, of course.

“Give me one of your trees and I'll be able to save the wolf.” You say quietly, knowing you have no right to ask for it, knowing the woods have no reason to trust you or believe you won't become dangerous again, but it is literally the only way. 

You're also afraid and you don't trust yourself, but the wolf is dead and you can save it. You can bring it back to life. You have no idea what happened to the wolf, but it simply doesn't deserve to die. 

You sigh and go around the wolf to the tree behind it. Your hands are shaking but you firmly put them on the bark and gasp: you feel the life energy flow in it, the forest will let you do this. It's so much your breath hitches but you calm yourself and begin to drain the tree.

You hear the rusting of the leaves as they turn into ash and your body gets filled with the life force of the tree. It's exhilarating and you can't help your surprised giggle when you feel your magic grow. Fuck, it's been so long since you felt so powerful and you feel alive.

The half of the tree is gone and you now notice that your hands are glowing. But it's not your hands that are glowing, these are your tattoos and runes. It makes you flinch in terror as memories flow through your head, but you keep going and try not to pay attention to every line and letter and patch that glows through your clothes. You haven't seen them in years and you'd much prefer not to see them ever again, but alas, the power comes with consequences. 

Everything now is covered in ash and you feel like you're going to burst from this amount of life energy in your body, so you quickly come back to the wolf and hold its head between your hands, and then you start pouring the energy into its lifeless body. Your tattoos stop glowing so violently as time passes and you see how the wolf's throat grows back and gets covered in fur. The wolf finally exhales loudly and inhales again, and you feel its heart restart. 

You sigh, relieved, and sit down, still holding the wolf's head and putting more energy into it, but now you're calm: the wolf breathes and gets warmer with every second. 

You murmur a spell that will let you continue giving the energy to the wolf and then you cast another one that makes the wolf float and follow you to the hut. 

You notice the blood on your hands and take a shaky breath as an ancient temptation gets the hold of you: you can put this wolf in debt, you can make it leave you alone (which is a not a fair price, but you have priorities), you can do whatever you want since you have its blood. 

You swallow sickly and shake your head to calm down. 

When you get to your hut you're not sure where to place the wolf: it will take a night and a day to finish healing, but the moment the wolf wakes up it will try to kill you, so you need to do something. It's not your greatest idea, but you really have no other option except to leave it outside and risk the wolf running away and breaking the bond. So you go to your stillroom, put all the protective spells you know on everything so the wolf won't trash the place, and summon some furs so the wolf won't be lying on the cold floor. You stand there for a second and cast restraints on the wolf - again, stupid idea, but it's for your own safety. Tomorrow, when the wolf wakes up you'll explain everything and release it, of course, but if you want a chance on said explain, the wolf should be restrained. 

When you go to bed you become aware of just how much energy will stay in your body after this, and it makes your heart sink. 

You only hope it won't drive you mad.

[itzkingbo]

Hello! Saw the request for requests! If you’re comfortable with it date with shoji at like a private hot spring or pool (somewhere private to unwind) after just like a couple long hard weeks of work? If not Shoji pretty much any character is good for it!

a/n: oh absolutely!! Shoji is so underrated! I never see anything for him! I hope this is what you were hoping for! Thank you for the request!

" pool day " Mezo Shoji x reader [requested]

[word count: 576]

[Warnings: none! all cute couple fluff]

Hero work had always proven to be tiring, with the long days and sometimes even longer nights. That was just how it was. Realistically the only thing better than going home and relaxing after work, was a day at the pool.

Shoji had been working effortlessly for the last few weeks at the agency he has been working at as a sidekick. With crime rates constantly fluctuating, they often had weeks that were way busier than others. The poor man had been craving a day at the pool for a few days now, and he had planned to take his girlfriend as a surprise.

Today was finally his first day off in a while, and he had gotten up early. He snuck out of bed and down to the kitchen to prepare a simple breakfast for the two of them. Miso soup is his girlfriend's favorite, so that's exactly what he made.

Not long after beginning cooking, the sound of heavy and tired footsteps echoed through the hallway, making their way down to the kitchen. Shoji turned his head to look over his shoulder as you appeared in the doorway, hair still disheveled from sleep and eyes droopy. He created a duplicate arm with a mouth facing you and turned his attention back to the stove.

"Morning, dear." He spoke as you got closer, receiving a tired grunt. "Miso soup?" Was all you managed out as you stepped to his side, peering into the pot. He retracted the extra arm and nodded softly.

"I was thinking.. since it's my first day off in a while.. would you like to go somewhere today after breakfast?" He asked, eyes darting to the side to gauge your reaction. He watched as your eyes lit up and all sense of sleep was washed away.

"Oh yes! Where too?" You cheered, suddenly not as grumpy as before. "I was thinking the pool?"

Without receiving a reply, your footsteps could be heard quickly moving out of the kitchen as you disappeared down the hall. After you two finished the miso soup, you got ready and headed to a local pool in the neighborhood.

Upon arrival, you immediately rushed inside. You set down your began of belongs onto one of the chairs nearby and slipped off your sandals. Shoji wasn't far behind, smiling behind his mask at how happy you were.

The little things like this always made him happy as long as there was a smile on your face and a sparkle in your eye. He watched as you slowly padded over to the edge of the pool and dove in elegantly. He quickly followed suit, minus the elegancy. His canon ball splashed water up and over you just as your resurfaced from your dive.

"Wah-!" You screeched just before being consumed by his waves. The moment your head popped back up above water you pushed both hands forward in a feeble attempt to get him back.

The two of you spent an hour or two there at the pool. It was a weekday so there weren't many people there. Even if there were, right now it felt like just you and your boyfriend. Giggles and laughter echoed around the pool building as you splashed and played around like kids.

This was it's own type of relaxation. Being able to let go of your worries and have fun with someone you love and care for, especially after a painfully long work week.

[oliviablancmom]

"Enemies - Pablo Gavi (PART II)"

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x OC! character

A\N: And here we are with the second part. I must admit it's been fun 'living' with these two, and it's totally different from writing Isa and Pedri, which I didn't expect... But these two... The things they have. I'm so excited for you guys to see!! This beginning of the story takes place in 2021; she is sixteen years old, and Gavi is seventeen.

Before (2021)

"Your grandfather doesn't want you to watch the games from the stands with the other fans anymore," was the first thing she heard when she entered the house. She followed the voice to the kitchen, where her mother was in front of the stove, cooking something that smelled delicious, making her stomach growl.

"Haven't you eaten again?" her mother asked in a concerned tone, shaking her head in disapproval.

"You know I can't," she explained defensively, kissing her mother's cheek. Football was more than a passion for Florence; it was her lifeblood. Every match was a rollercoaster of emotions that left her too anxious to eat. "Was he here?" she asked as she sat at the table.

"Your father isn't, so... Yes. He wanted you to attend a meeting after the game, but he couldn't find you because you were among the fans," her mother said, sitting down and watching her with narrowed eyes. "And to be honest, I'm starting to agree with him. As soon as they connect the fact that you are the Real Madrid president's granddaughter, it will be dangerous to be in the stands," her mother said with concern. Florence pouted, agreeing with her mother's point; she knew it was the absolute truth.

"That's why I have to enjoy it while they don't know," she said with a smile. "I promise I'm being careful, Mom, and I will reduce my presence in the stands." Florence gave a salute, which made her mother laugh.

"Silly... Now tell me, you didn't torment that boy again, did you?" The girl opened her mouth in a perfect 'O' as if offended.

"I don't torment anyone, I just react like a good fan defending her team," her mother laughed.

"You've been picking on him since the first moment you saw him, darling. Poor boy..."

"Poor boy because you don't know him..." she said, annoyed.

"You don't know him either. He's just doing his job."Florence rolled her eyes at her mother.

"A terrible one."

"He scored two goals against us today, didn't he?" The older woman continued to tease her daughter.

"They should have been disallowed," the younger one shrugged. "He dared to celebrate right in front of me," she said, making a face as her mother laughed at her situation.

"Oh, Flo, you all take this too seriously..." The woman said, getting up to stir her pots. Sometimes, Florence wished she had inherited her mother's carefree side, and not all the passion for football that came from her father's side. "Your grandfather asked you to call him as soon as you got home. He wants you to accompany him to an event tomorrow," the girl sighed. "If you didn't want this, you should have told him."

"It's not that I don't want to, but I'm only sixteen... "I just don't want to disappoint him," Florence sighed.

"Flo, your grandfather loves you; he would never be disappointed in you." The woman walked over to the younger one, planting a kiss on the top of her daughter's head in an attempt to comfort her. Florence embraced her mother's affection at the moment since only thinking about the pressure she would soon face made her shiver.

As she grew up, football was simple for her, or at least, it should have been. It was about going to the stadium watching her team win and creating history with every match. It was about playing with the ball on the field after the end of a game alongside the players' children. It was about passionately singing the team anthem, about crying with joy over a qualification, over a victory. It was about being starstruck by the team players when they came to have dinner with her grandfather at their home. Football was simple for her until it wasn't.

But that was a thing for her to think about tomorrow, at least she hopes so.

**********************************************

"If your goal was to be hated by the Merengue fans, you achieved it, bro," Pedri said, patting his friend's shoulder. Gavi looked up from his phone, and to Pedri's surprise, a satisfied smile spread across the younger one's face.

"I don't care." Gavi shrugged. "Scoring for the club is satisfying, scoring in an El Clásico even more so, but scoring and celebrating in front of their fans, that's gratifying." Gavi folded his arms behind his head, and Pedri observed him closely with narrowed eyes.

"In front of her, you mean," Pedri smirked. "You know, you should just get her number or something." Gavi's eyes snapped open, and he made a disgusted face.

"Ew, gross. Never in my life." He felt a shiver run down his spine at the mere thought. "Although, I'd like her number just to rub it in her face every time we do well."

"Come on, we hear insults in every game, and you're the first not to let it get to you, why is this so different?"

Gavi looked at his friend and could see the concern on his face. He was genuinely grateful for his friendship with Pedri and admired his friend greatly. Many times, Gavi looked up to him as an example, and knowing he could count on him was a relief. This environment was competitive; true friendships were few, and having someone who was a friend, someone he could rely on, was comforting.

So, seeing the concerned expression on Pedri's face made Gavi feel a twinge of guilt. He was right; he wasn't usually affected by pressure or insults from fans. He didn't know what was different about this whole situation that threw him off balance. He couldn't explain it to himself; how could he explain it to one of his best friends? So, for a moment, he decided that the best thing to do was to ease his friend's worries, hoping it would have the same effect on himself.

"Bro... It's just teasing, it's nothing serious." Gavi tried to sound convincing. Pedri watched him once more and then decided to drop the subject, steering the conversation to something else as they headed to the event.

**********************************************

Football should be simple: step onto the field, play a great game, and then go home. No matter how confident he was, Gavi hated the whole image thing—the photos, the advertisements, the magazines, the rumors—it was all too much. He knew he would constantly be followed and have fans asking for photos, and he honestly loved that attention, but there was this side of him that often wanted to hide in a hole whenever a camera was pointed at his face. And specifically at this moment, he wished more than ever to escape from there. But he couldn't; he was at a charity event hosted by the Queen of Spain. There were many influential people, players from some teams in Spain and abroad as well, and as a rising new football star, his presence was required at these events. Of course, the princess's affection for him contributed to his being invited to these events. Gavi couldn't remember how the rumor about the princess's admiration for him started, but ever since it began, he had to deal with his teammates making jokes about the situation.

"Look, there's your princess, Gavi. Aren't you going to greet her?" Gerard Pique said beside him with a chuckle. Gavi just rolled his eyes at the comment and looked at Pedri for help, but his friend was in conversation with the team's goalkeeper.

"Leave the boy alone," Jordi Alba said, like a good captain, and Gavi was internally grateful that his teammates left him in peace.

Gavi sighed, a little impatient. As a child, he used to imagine what these events were like, and experiencing it now never seemed as boring as it was. So, he got up from the table where he was sitting with his teammates and decided to get some air. He headed to the bathroom and stayed there for a good few minutes, messing with his phone, which was far more interesting than anything happening outside. When he realized he had been there long enough, he decided to return to the hall, but before he could take more than three steps, he ended up bumping into someone.

"Jesus, don't you watch where you're going?" Gavi froze in his place, déjà vu filling his mind. Not déjà vu, a nightmare. If it wasn't enough to be haunted by that voice on the field, now it was right here, clearer than ever, right in front of him. Gavi felt deep irritation; the superior tone was the same as when she screamed from the stands.

"You've got to be kidding me. Are you some kind of stalker?" Gavi said irritably. The girl finally deemed it worthy to lift her eyes to him, and he swore they would pop out from how wide they got. The player almost saw a flicker of hesitation on her face, but it lasted only a few seconds before being replaced by that superiority.

"Oh, don't be so full of yourself," she grimaced. "You'd be the last person in the world I'd stalk," she said, tossing her hair back, and then walked past him, making sure to bump his shoulder. Gavi watched as she walked towards the terrace and decided to follow her; he wouldn't let her have the upper hand this time.

"I should call the police on you; this is starting to get creepy," Gavi said, approaching. The girl, who had her back turned to him, now faced him, laughing.

"Don't be so full of yourself. I already told you, you'd be the last person in the world I'd stalk. You're not interesting enough." This time, Gavi laughed.

"The way you try to get my attention when we play against the team you support says otherwise." Gavi had a smug smile on his face to match the one the girl wore. She just rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Whatever, can you leave me alone?" she asked irritably, her face red, and even from a distance, Gavi could see her eyes sparkling, so he moved closer.

"What’s wrong? Where's all that courage you have in the stands, querida?" Gavi took a step towards her, and again she remained immobile, completely unaffected by the air of superiority Gavi tried to display, and that irritated him more than all the insults she hurled at him.

"Aw, did I hurt you?" She pouted. "You shouldn't be walking around with that ego of yours, nor trying to disrespect my team in my house." There it was, all the arrogance, but Gavi couldn't help but laugh.

"Your team, huh?" He raised an eyebrow at her in a clear mocking tone. Gavi saw something flicker in her eyes, but before she could say anything, her phone buzzed. She looked annoyed at the device and then at the player.

"Well, it was not a pleasure to see you here, but I have to go,"

"The unpleasure it was all mine," Gavi answered back, with a fake smile, she rolled her eyes but before she could walk away, Gavi grabbed her arm. A spark of electricity shot through his hand at the contact, making him momentarily freeze. Her blue eyes glared at him with moderate anger. He stared at her and she back at him in a silent war, and Gavi just knew it wasn't the last time he would see her, just as he knew that like her voice was embedded in his mind, her blue eyes would also fight for space in his head.

**********************************************

Now Florence was beginning to realize the weight that football had on her, thanks to her family name. She now understood the hours and hours, almost like a nightly lesson her grandfather gave her in his office, about the club's history, and the players. She understood the responsibility and knew the role she would have in the future, a future she hoped would be a long time coming because she still wanted football to be simple.

She loved the idea of helping her grandfather and knowing that he saw something in her to prepare her to maybe take over everything in the future. But honestly, she was scared by the idea.

And that’s why she paid attention to every conversation her grandfather had in the hall. Even though Florentino Perez believed that business shouldn’t be discussed in public, it was still a way for him to always be aware of what was happening around them. But sometimes these conversations and this business got too much, especially at her age, and that's why she decided she needed a break for air, even though she regretted it bitterly, after her encounter with the last person she would like to.

She was back in the party room, furious, and suddenly completely uninterested in the serious conversation unfolding in front of her, she couldn't focus on that.

How dare he.

"Florence, you're not paying attention," she heard her grandfather's voice, still distant, and when she looked, she saw the older man's worried gaze.

"Sorry, I'm not feeling very well," she said with a smile, trying not to worry him, but the angry and tired face that he gave her, made her feel guilty. Before they could get into a conversation about how important it was for her to be there, a man called for Florentino, and he stepped away to talk to another man, leaving her alone with her frustrations.

She should have known she couldn't hide the expression of disgust and irritation on her face; her displeasure at seeing the player was too much to disguise. She didn't want to worry her grandfather; she couldn't tell him she was at war with one of the players from her club's biggest rival, or could she? Maybe then her grandfather could do something to help her, and put an end to the player's arrogance, so she could go back to enjoying the El Classico peacefully."

Her eyes unconsciously scanned the room and ended up stopping at the table of the players from the not-could-be-named club. Pablo Gavi was laughing and seemed embarrassed by something one of his teammates had said, seconds after the princess left their table. She had heard the rumors about the princess's interest in the player, and honestly, she found it pathetic.

What had she seen in him? Yes, he was a football prodigy, but that was it, at the end of the day he was still...him. Of course, looking at him from this distance, he almost seemed innocent and calm, not the annoying person responsible for much of her bad mood.

As if feeling Florence's eyes on him, their gazes met. His eyes did not avert or waver; they were distant from each other in the hall, but it was as if they were face to face. There were no words, just a silent war and promise.

**********************************************

A/N: Did you like the revelation? She's not just a simple Madridista, she's the greatest of them all, lol. Her full name is Florence Maria Pérez, named after her grandfather and grandmother. I can't wait for you to see more of their story. Oh, and just for you guys know, both Isa and Pedri will be appearing here, but we will have to come to 2024 lol. Anyway, let me know what you think!

[creamsickle-writes]

In A Haze: Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, drug usage (weed), dirty talk, use of the title "mistress", and creampies

When you want something, you do everything you can to obtain it. That can range from begging to scheming, but for this exchange, it was bartering. 

Sanji was a man desperate for physical intimacy, and you knew that. The cook hadn’t touched a woman before in his life, and you were determined to change that if it meant you could have a bit of the weed he grew. 

So, every now and then, you would sneak between his sheets, offering your body in exchange for a few hits. 

One could think it was demeaning to do such a thing, but it made you feel liberated, especially since Sanji was so submissive. Even though he had something you wanted, you felt powerful in this exchange as you knew that when you went too long without coming to him, he’d offer some pot; this, you knew, was his roundabout way of asking for sex.

And it wasn’t bad, especially since he liked being used like a toy. You told him what position, and he’d gladly perform, fucking you in all the best ways.

But today, you decided to treat him. After all, he agreed to give you twice his usual amount. So, you sank to your knees and took him into your mouth, bobbing your head slowly. 

Above you, he tangled his strong fingers in your hair, guiding you gently along his shaft.

“Fuck, darling…” he moaned, his voice cracking, “Oh, you’re an angel. You’re too good to me.”

You glanced at him through your lashes and watched as he lit the joint between his lips. Fucking you while high was Sanji’s favorite. And, when he sometimes gave you a hit beforehand, it was your favorite too.

You gently massaged his balls, causing him to throw his head back and groan. He takes the joint between shaky fingers and removes it from his mouth, exhaling. 

“Oh,” he moans, “Darling, could you do something for me?”

You pull off his shaft with a pop and stroke him slowly, looking up at him expectantly. 

“What is it, Sanji?”

“Could you…” he swallows, his face red, “Could you be mean to me? I’ll give you an extra ounce for it.”

Your eyes light up at the offer, “How mean do you want?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, “As mean as you think I deserve.”

You giggle a bit at that answer. He was already giving you the reigns as the dominant.

With that, you stop stroking and pushing him onto the bed, causing him to let out a surprised squeal. You crawl atop the blond man, leering down at him. You feel him shudder. 

“I honestly think you don’t deserve much, Sanji,” you start, “But…”

You take his jaw into your hands, remove the joint from his lips, and force his mouth open. Without hesitating, you spit on his tongue, and he lets out a desperate groan.

“There.” You chuckle, “Now swallow.”

He instantly closes his mouth, and yet again, you see his Adam’s apple bob. He sticks his tongue out without you asking like a desperate puppy wanting praise from its master. 

But you don’t praise him. After all, he wanted mean.

“Now, say thank you.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

You raise your brows at the title, and you watch his face go red once he notices what he’s done. 

Oh, you could get used to this.

You placed the blunt in the ashtray beside the bed and removed your panties, leaving you and the cook nude. You positioned yourself above his red, aching cock that twitched in the open air. Your walls offer no resistance when you sink onto him, your hole having been stretched by him many times before. 

“Now you listen,” you address Sanji, “You’re not going to cum until I say so, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” It comes out breathlessly, and you push back his bangs so that he’s gazing at you with both eyes. 

You move your hips, and Sanji moans deliciously, his brows knit together in pleasure.

With fast hips, you ride him, the bed creaking under you both. Sanji’s mouth had drool on the corners, and you smirked as you watched his eyes slowly glaze over. You could tell the weed was finally hitting him.

“Mistress,” He moaned, “Please, use me, fuck me, own me!”

You giggled a bit, he had been submissive before, but you had never heard him vocalize his thoughts like this.

“Aw, you want nothing more than to be Mistress’s, don’t you?” 

“Yes-!”

“How about we make a deal?”

His eyes widen at that, and you slow your hips to a grind, “I’ll be your full-time mistress if you give me some weed whenever I ask. I’ll buy you a collar and give you little tasks… that sounds good, right?”

He nods excitedly, “Yes, yes, please!”

Your lips widen into a grin, “Then we have ourselves a deal. Your first task is to fuck me. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Sanji takes your hips into his hands and begins hammering into you, causing your breath to escape your lungs. He wastes no time pleasing you, his hips slapping against your skin. Your mouth hangs open, and you let out a moan, your hands digging into the flesh of his chest.

“Mistress,” Sanji whimpers, “You feel so good, I’m gonna-!”

“Not yet, Sanji.” You chastise him, “Hold it.”

“Mistress-!” He pleads, and you swear you see tears forming in his eyes.

You want to just let him go, to let him finish, but you remember his request and stick to it. You take his bottom lip between your thumb and forefinger, pulling his mouth open. As he’s shocked by this action, you slide your fingers into his mouth, and he immediately begins sucking.

“I said hold it.”

He whimpers around your fingers as his hips don’t let up. As he pounds you, you feel something bubble up within you, and, for Sanji’s sake, you hope it comes sooner rather than later. Your nails dig even deeper into Sanji’s chest, and you look down at him with a smirk.

“What a good toy you are,” You giggle, “I bet my friends would love to use you too. Would you like that, Sanji?”

You remove your fingers from his mouth so he can speak.

He drools openly, his eyes hazy as he looks at you, “Yes-!”

“Just imagine it,” you giggle, “Girls using you until you’re all swollen and raw. Your poor cock would be so sensitive…”

He keens at that, and his hips start stuttering, “Mistress, please-! Don’t keep talking like that, I-I’ll- I’ll-!”

“Hold it.”

“Mistress, please! Please let me cum!” He whines with the most sinfully delicious tone. The sound is straight from your fantasies, the way he begs and pleads for you.

But you don’t respond; you just moan happily as his hips stutter in and out of you. You reached for your breasts, squeezing them and pinching your nipples in the process.

You feel Sanji’s cock hopelessly twitch and throb inside you, begging for its release. You push him a bit further.

“And after her friends are done riding your cock,” you giggle, “Mistress wants her male friends to fuck you.”

Sanji groans at that, and a smirk crosses your lips.

“Your poor little hole, getting stretched out by cock after cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be a cum dump for men just because Mistress orders it?”

“Mistress-“

His nails dig even tighter into your hips, and you moan, the knot tightening in your stomach. You were so fucking close-!

“But I thought you just loved women, Sanji? Unless there’s something you’re not telling me, hm? Are you secretly a whore for cock too?” You giggled, “God, you’re insatiable and greedy, aren’t you?”

Sanji’s eyes shut tight, and suddenly, you felt a warm essence fill you completely. You purr as he fills you up, his hips slowing below you. You bite your lip as your orgasm now escapes you.

“Uh oh,” you sing-song, “You came, Sanji.”

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress,” he sniffles, “Please, I’ll do anything-“

You hum in mock thought, rocking and grinding your hips against him. The cook let out a shaky moan as he was overstimulated, allowing you to enjoy the most delicious symphony.

“Anything?” You hum and lean for the bedside table, taking the almost forgotten joint and putting it between your lips. You inhale and then exhale, allowing the smoke to waft through the air. 

“Yes, anything!” He whines, and a broad smile overtakes your features.

You were going to have fun with Sanji for hours.