#but how do i get to know people when there's nothing i want to do with them and i have trouble feeling like i want things in general

[leydenkilgore]

Absolutely Everything I Do To Shift Regularly

Since I’m going to permashift/respawn in a couple days. I wanted to put this out there.

There is absolutely no separation between inhabiting your desired reality and experiencing your original reality. The only difference is what you perceive. That’s it. That’s really it. You don’t need a mediation, you don’t a method. All you have to do is be there. There is a difference between pretending to be in your desired reality, and actually being there. When we dream we don’t necessarily have the intention to remain in our dreams. That’s a contributing factor to why we don’t. And while we have intrusive thoughts deep down we know they won’t happen. And that’s also why you’re not shifting. Either your subconscious has failed so much you don’t think it will happen, or you’re scared to leave your familiar reality like I was. It is really one or the other. You aren’t stuck in this reality, and you aren’t stuck in that reality. Everything and everybody is literally just whatever you are comfortable experiencing at the moment. To get out of it, you have to change what your subconscious wants to believe. This is hard for some people who are naturally set in their ways. I’m not blessed or anything I was just fortunate enough to be a naturally open minded person. And I always believed that I’d experience more than this life. When I was kid I would sort of script new lives, families and experiences. And always believed that I would get to experience everything I wanted when it was my time. I literally took nothing is impossible and ran with it. But some people because of a mixture of cultivated youth and personality, are more skeptical than others and want to play it safe. Both is fine. But if you want to shift you have to abandon some of that. You have to literally mold your mind to first get used to the idea of physically being away from your original reality (that’s what trips most up), accept that the universe is full of infinite outcomes and infinite versions of you. The most important things about shifting is not to listen or shape your shifting journey around any particular things. And I mean that for me as well. What I have found to be true for shifting in my perception might not be true for you. I think this community has become too reliant on others when it comes to such a personal journey. We are all born with the power to shift. And I think we all do shift whether or not we aware of it. And we all have different paths to it. How you decide to do it is up to you. You all are over consuming too much. Instead of trying to make someone else reality and truth yours. Carve your own truth. If you decide that every time you see I don’t know a pigeon you shift. Okay that’s the truth now. Accept it and hammer it in your head. Don’t go against what you want by looking at this method or that method. Decide what will make you shift and that’s how you shift every time.

If you’re like me and likes to do long drawn out things for fun this is what helps me shift.

Meditation: I’m going to use the phrase impress it on your mind. I’m thinking of transfer paper like bit by bit feed it into your mind that you shift all the time and are wherever you want to be. Don’t try to shift to a bunch of places at once. Just pick one place and commit to being there for a few days. I’m going to use myself as an example. I like long drawn out things because I like to live an idea or aesthetic. I love to romanticize things so naturally I want to also do some idyllic method or whatever but you don’t have to do that. So once I decide where I want to wake up at. Then I put on an ambiance from YouTube of whatever the general place is like in my room. Or one of my favorite playlists. Now since I’m leaning more towards awake methods then I am asleep, I do this bit awake. But it can also be a precursor to the sleep paralysis method. I play it out loud so I don’t have to be tethered to one place. Then I go over in my head where I want to be in my head, what I am wearing and what I look like. Once I decide that I tap into that section of my consciousness and inhabit it. For this exercise, let’s say I’m shifting to Middle Ages dr. I last left off when we were traveling to the Altai Mountins. So I know we’ll be in the courtyard. What month is it? July. It’ll be humid with a breeze from the river. A river. Oh, the storks are probably there. Birds. I hear birds flying overhead and I can’t hear the servants moving everything into the carriage. Carriage. That one has a broken wheel. I should tell someone. I notice my shoes as I walk and feel the cobblestones. My dress is kind of heavy and it is harder to avoid slipping on than I thought. Wait, where I am even going? I see the a bunch of people messing with the carriages. Oh I almost ran into somebody because it’s so bright. Go on and on like that.

Once you start to feel like you are inhabiting that world and that experience. You should start to feel symptoms or not. I don’t feel them every time. Usually like I vibrate or I hear a noise or something. If you don’t just simulate in your mind the sounds you would hear if you were there. Who would be around, etc. If you want to say stuff in your head like how you can’t believe how well your handling shifting or wow I’ve been in this new reality for so many months. I can barely remember my original reality, I’ve always been here. The point I’m making is don’t say how talented you are or what you look like. Think of all the causes of it. It’s like a tree. The main idea you want to transfer into your perceiving consciousness is the tree itself. Each branch is a separate symptom of it and each leaf is a detail. So like this tree (shifting), branch (i shifted easily), leaf (i wake up here next to so and so again and again without fail). That is the goal of all methods. To transfer the part of your consciousness that you are perceiving right now to where you want to be. There is nothing else to it. Some people are more gullible and less illogical. I wouldn’t say I’m gullible but I don’t believe in skepticism where it really isn’t needed. There is no harm in trying shifting out. You can’t stuck, if something bad happens you can shift back instantly just be thinking about it. There is really very little harm in the practice.

Why I favor sleep paralysis: Sleep paralysis is pretty easy to get and it puts me in a thoughtless state. Not unlike the void but I just never felt the want to really go to the void. With sleep paralysis it happens quite often without much thought. Nothing dangerous happens with sleep paralysis. You can’t stuck there and anything you see that is dangerous is a hallucination. Don’t pay attention to it, it can’t hurt you. And say fuck off. It’s similar to the void where you can’t see anything and can’t move. But I have heard outside noises in sleep paralysis and at least I have been able to force myself out of it if I wanted to. But I do the same thing as the ‘meditation’ essentially when I do that.

Other methods: I do other methods for fun and I like to keep the spark in shifting alive so I don’t get bored. But I would do other methods after you’ve at least had more success with shifting. Then you can just decided that everything makes you shift.

My controversial opinions when it comes to shifting: You all care way too much about this reality. This reality does not have as much importance in the grand scheme of our existence. It just doesn’t. But humans have a very hard time seeing outside of themselves. We can’t even imagine something we haven’t seen somewhere on earth before. I have never bought into it that this was all there ever was. I mean space is like endless. Who are we to think that we are the only people that have become sentient in the way we are. We can’t. I’m neutral to most things. I don’t care if your race change, age yourself down. Sure it’s weird. But we have to remember that people are going to do what they want to do. Don’t waste your energy on trying to twist someone’s arm to conform to you. For you that is immoral and not right. And I agree I wouldn’t do any of those things. But if it isn’t something you can actively control stop wasting your energy on it. Some of y’all could spend the time you waste arguing about this on shifting and actually do something worthwhile. However, I do get why people think that way. And anti shifters don’t give them any attention. Please for my sanity stop arguing with these little leeches. If they don’t approach you respectfully don’t interact or give it your time. I know some people are young and can’t just let stuff go. If someone doesn’t speak to you respectfully about your beliefs, don’t give them the time of day and protect your peace. If you know something will demotivate you. Then don’t consume that content or interact with them. And I mean that for myself. I am always open to have an open minded and respectful discussion with anyone. Shifting does start far fetched but I will not accept is people coming on here saying rude things like ‘your dreaming’ or insulting something I shared. You can ask things respectfully with the intention of wanting to understand someone’s point of view and stance. And if you unfortunately can’t regulate yourself to the point where you can do that. I do not have to waste my energy on that. I’m neutral to pretty much anything. I don’t care. I really don’t care what anyone does in their drs. Something’s that I hurt my heart, because some of you put yourselves or other people in traumatic situations. But nothing I say will change someone’s mind if they don’t already want to change. And I won’t waste my time on it. Permashifting is fine and respawn is fine. I would suggest that you don’t do either without at least shifting once to know if you like that reality. You wouldn’t move half way across the world without even a visit. So the same should apply. I believe people should do whatever they want. But it shouldn’t hurt other people to do it. That is the one thing I will never support. If what you want to experience involves violence, emotional abuse etc. against people, really consider that these are real people. Not a video game just remember that. Just because it is a different reality does not mean that their lives and way of interesting pain matters less than it does to anyone here or even you.

That’s all I have to say for today. After this go shift or do whatever it is you want to go do. I promise it isn’t as hard as it seems.

[vivwritesfics]

part 2 of the lando soulmate th ing?

The First Part

Tell me when the F1 comes to your city.

It was a damn long shot, but it was all Lando had. It was kind of crazy, that one of the only things she was able to tell him about herself was that she didn't like the Formula One.

It was, well, nothing to go on, but it was all he had.

Why? So I can tell you how obsessed my friends are with Pube face?

Yeah, he was Pube face. She didn't know what she was calling him Pube face, but he was Pube face. And he didn't much mind.

Just trust me, he said, and he could basically feel the way she laughed at him.

I don't know you, she answered.

But still, she told him when the F1 got to her city. It's here, she said after a good few months.

It had been so long since Lando had said it to her, he'd completely forgotten all about it. What's here? What've you done? He asked as he got ready for the first practice session.

You wanted to know when the Formula One got to my city, she said.

His eyes widened. Fuck, they were in the same city. Have you got a ticket? He asked quickly. The practice session could wait, he decided. This was far more important.

A ticket for what?

The race!

The way his knee was bouncing was uncontrollable. He tapped his hands against his knee as he waited for her to answer. Goddamn, it was taking far too long. And she wasn't fucking replying.

But then, she answered. I've looked into getting tickets and they're all sold out, she said. Plus, they were expensive as hell, anyway.

He looked around his drivers room, looked at the clock on the wall. Somebody knocked on his door, but he didn't care. Look, I'm busy for the next hour, but do you think you could get to the race track?

There was another pause, one that had him so damn stressed. Not the track, she said and he released a breath. But there's a town maybe forty five minutes away. I can get there.

It was the longest Free Practice of his life. But, as soon as it was finished, as soon as he was out of his car and his helmet was pulled from his head, he was running through the paddock to get to his car. He had nothing on him, but he didn't much care. What's the name of the town.

She tried to say the name, but it came out in a way that he couldn't hear it. That was house it worked. Okay, just sit in a café somewhere. I'll pay for whatever coffee you drink.

That was how Lando Norris found himself driving to towns forty five minutes to an hour away from the track. He went to three different towns, not really caring for the approaching Free Practice session. He went in every café in these towns, saying 'Pube face?' to random people.

His phone was going crazy, though, the McLaren team calling him back to the track. A sigh left his lips as he walked into the final café in the final town. I'm gonna have to give up soon, he said as he scanned the faces of everybody in the café.

Omg, she said suddenly. Guess who just walked into the café.

Desperately, he looked around. Who?

Pube face.

His heart felt as if it was going to stop. Stand up.

And there, in the corner of the café, a girl stood up. It looked a little odd, her standing as she drank her coffee. She looked from person to person, refusing to look at Lando.

But then he approached her. "Holy shit," he said as he approached her. "Pube face?"

The surprise was so clearly written on her face as she carefully put her coffee cup down. Because, if she wasn't careful, it would have gone clattering to the floor.

But then she shook her head. "You know you're Pube face, right?" She asked, voice shaking slightly. Good, she was just as nervous as he was.

Lando scratched at the facial hair on his chin. "You don't like it?" He asked, unable to stop grinning at her.

She looked at him, really looked at him and on the facial hair on his chin. "You know what? I think it could grow on me." She sat back down and nodded to the chair across from her. "You wanna get coffee with me?"

[1d1195]

Sunflower

~7.2 k words

From Me: Requested by my 🍓-anon. Sorry it took some time. I took a couple liberties (mostly because I love food a lot so I couldn't make it taste bad hahahaha) I hope you like it! I'm going to post your ask with the request tomorrow. 💕 Right now it's just the one part (but I feel like some may want a second).

Warnings: fluffy and a bit of jealous Harry. Nothing too angsty though this time around.

Summary: Harry has a high paying job that allows him to eat at some of the finest restaurants in the city. But the little bistro that has good drinks and a great staff is by far his favorite. Or maybe it's the waitress he can't get out of his head that has him coming back so often.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah looked skeptical.

“I swear,” Mitch smiled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the drinks are good and so are the apps.”

Harry watched the banter of his two best friends. “How did you even come across this place?” Sarah asked as Mitch held the door open for her to enter. Harry took hold of it so Mitch could follow after her. There were no more than fifteen tables and a bar. It was fairly dark but in a good way.

If anything, it contrasted sharply with the sunflowers at nearly every turn. There was a mural painted on the back wall of bright flowers against the dark paint. Each table had a bright blue glass vase with a single sunflower stem in the middle of the table. The aprons the staff wore were covered in a floral print of a garden of sunflowers. It was stunning. Bright and beautiful.

“Aptly named,” Sarah smirked.

Harry chuckled. “S’nice,” he agreed.

Harry and Sarah continued their observation while Mitch waited patiently at the host stand. “I came here for lunch with a client,” he said answering Sarah’s earlier question. “Their friend owns it.” After another moment they were brought to a table. There weren’t many people there; given they were there at two in the afternoon on a Saturday it wasn’t so surprising. The bar was nearly filled, several patrons seemed to be regulars as they got a say in what sporting event got to be on the TV. Only two other tables were filled and there was no need for a bustling staff. “I came for dinner, and it was full capacity with a line. But when you know the owner, you get a table early. They have a little outdoor patio around back too but it’s seasonal.”

The three of them looked over the menu in silence. Until Sarah broached the subject of getting one of every type of appetizer and then there was their daily debate of which appetizer was best and maybe they would have to do one of each since they wouldn’t be able to decide which was best.

Their debate was interrupted by the waitress coming over to introduce herself.

“Hi everyone, welcome to The Sunflower Bistro, have you been here before?”

“I have,” Mitch smiled. “We’re arguing over an appetizer, what do you think?”

Without pausing, she didn’t help the debate. “Oh, one of each,” she giggled.

“See! I told you!” Sarah lightly smacked Mitch’s arm.

This only made her smile grow. “Can I take your drink order while you narrow your choices?” She asked.

There was an exchange of words. Words Harry didn’t hear. But then Sarah and Mitch were looking at him expectantly.

“Harry?” Mitch asked.

“A drink, hello?” Sarah laughed.

Quickly he shook his head. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down at the menu but unable to read anything. “Just water for now,” he murmured unable to make eye contact with her.

“I’ll be right back,” her voice was sweet and pretty.

“Are you alright?” Mitch asked.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry mumbled. “I can’t even look at her.”

When he saw her approach, he was immediately tongue-tied. Overwhelmed. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Or a garden. Or a painting in a museum. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint what made her so beautiful. It seemed to be everything. The way her hair was clipped behind her head and just a few soft pieces framed her cheeks. Her bright smile. Her sparkling eyes. The way the sunflower apron cinched her hips. All of it. Or none of it. She was beautiful. Overwhelmingly so. Harry swore he forgot how to breathe. He had been in love before—at least he thought he had been. This wasn’t comparable.

So he couldn’t even look at her.

Sarah giggled. Enjoying the way her friend’s face turned pink at the admission. Mitch smiled. “Aw Harry’s got a crush!”

“Shut up, she’ll hear!” Harry snapped and put the menu in front of his face, hiding from the rest of the restaurant.

“Oh my God,” Sarah laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I could not look at her,” Harry mumbled putting the menu over his face.

“She’s very pretty,” Sarah agreed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “But you have to look at her.”

Harry’s heart was racing. Like he was sprinting on the treadmill or in the middle of a phone call with an important client. Harry had been nervous before. The exams in college, his first interview, on-boarding new clients. This wasn’t comparable either. “I really don’t think I can, Sarah.”

“Did we make any decisions?” Her kind voice returned, and Harry scanned the menu eagerly, his cheeks still flushed, he was sure.

“Honestly, no,” Sarah laughed. “We’ve been admiring how beautiful this place is.”

And you, Harry thought.

“Oh, I know, it’s practically dreamy working here. The sunflowers are the perfect flower. It’s so sunny and fun,” she explained.

“Have you worked here long?” Mitch asked.

“Yes, since it opened. My friend owns it. It’s like a family kind of thing around here. It’s so nice,” she looked so happy to talk about this place. Passionate. “Niall’s really nice about me going to school and getting me the shifts I want.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! What are you studying?”

Harry wanted to involve himself in the conversation, but he was so speechless by her kind sweet presence, it was impossible to think of a word to say to her. He was grateful his two friends were there to carry the flow of dialogue because it was apparent Harry was going to be useless in that regard.

“Harry also went for a degree in finance,” Sarah segued to look at Harry. He missed her response. That was evident. He would ask when she went back to place their orders what was said specifically.

He looked at her, fully. He hoped he wasn’t staring at her to the point that she wanted to hide and run away from him because he was being a creep. After a pause that was a brief longer than he would have liked, he cleared his throat. “I graduated a couple years ago. I work for a large accounting firm,” it was a miracle he didn’t stutter from how nervous he was. He was holding the menu still to keep his hands from shaking.

Her smile brightened. She looked genuinely happy for Harry. He imagined she was anything but disingenuous, but still. For a complete stranger, who could barely utter two sentences to her, she bubbled with excitement at this knowledge of getting to know him. “Oh! That’s amazing! Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m graduating this spring,” she explained. “I’m super nervous about the whole internship process...I feel like it’s super difficult and overwhelming.”

“Harry’s still in touch with the person he did his internship with,” Mitch volunteered.

He wasn’t. At least...not to the degree that Mitch was suggesting. “Well, I’ll have to give you my card,” she winked at him. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide on appetizers.”

Harry felt some kind of crushing relief to watch her walk away. Which was ridiculous because the moment she was gone, he realized how badly and stupidly he wanted her to come back. He could barely even talk to her, but her presence made him happy. Deliriously so.

Sighing, he turned to Sarah. “Am I ruining m’first impression?” He asked.

Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not at all.”

Harry really hoped not. “I’ve never felt like this,” he mumbled and decided bare minimum, he needed to pick something to eat. At least he could repeat it in his head a few times before she returned and not embarrass himself while ordering.

Hopefully.

*

Like the perfect waitress, she came back to check their food was good and their drinks were refilled. Mitch was right. The drinks were good and so was the food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She asked sweetly. Fortunately, Harry managed to order his own food without Sarah or Mitch’s help. He didn’t stammer and didn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.

“No thank you,” Sarah turned to Harry. “Did you want to give her your card as well?” She asked. Harry felt like he was having an allergic reaction. His skin felt hot, and he thought that his throat was closing. Part of him wanted to kick Sarah beneath the table but a small piece of him was grateful for her direction and encouragement because it was evident he couldn’t do this on his own. He was prepared to give her his whole wallet. Credit cards, cash, anything in there was hers.

“Er...right,” Harry fumbled, his hands shaking as he opened it.

Harry tried to keep his breath under control as their fingers brushed when she took the card from him. His heart was working triple the beating time it was supposed to from the soft touch that couldn’t have lasted more than a second. “Oh goodness, my card doesn’t look anything like this,” she frowned. “Please don’t judge how ridiculous it is, I thought it was cute and memorable,” she pulled a few cards from her apron pocket.

It was cute and memorable. He didn’t want her to change a thing. The top corners were webbed with a little sunflower vine. Otherwise, the card was white with a half-print, half-cursive font covered in blue. “Well, aren’t you a Jane-of-all-trades,” Sarah laughed. She had listed tutoring, babysitting, painting, lawn-mowing, cleaning, etc.

“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she admitted. She sighed. “I’m grateful to Niall as I’ve steered away from most of those odd jobs that my dad taught me,” she laughed again. “Waitressing, despite everything, is a lot more stable while I’m still in school. I made that when I was fresh out of high school. It needs a serious update.”

“Harry, where did you make your business cards?” Mitch asked.

If this were a regular day and Harry wasn’t so tongue-tied and nervous, he probably would have thanked his friends for their effort to support him in being his wingman and wingwoman. But he was so out of sorts, so unbelievably captivated and captured by her, he couldn’t fully use his brain. It was embarrassing. If she had even an inkling that he liked her, she probably wasn’t going to reciprocate merely because he was so embarrassing to listen to. There was no way someone so pretty would like him and his inability to speak.

What would their dates even look like? Her voice was so nice, like a song he hadn’t heard since he was young. The kind of song that made him believe in love even though he was young. Her laugh was probably adorable. Her smile was adorable so it could only be so. But she would want conversation. Right? Was she just to chat about her day and her feelings and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything but stare at her? Admiring how pretty she was?

Actually, that sounded like a pretty decent plan for Harry. But she deserved more.

So instead, he cleared his throat once more. “S’online. I’d have t’look up the website. But yours is memorable,” he assured her. “I like the colors.”

“Thanks, Harry,” God he loved the sound of her voice saying his name. Her adorable smile was so sweet he felt his heart melting. “It definitely needs an update now that I’m about to graduate though, please let me know if you find the website.”

Harry wanted to tell her that he would give her whatever she wanted for as long as they lived and then in their next life too. But instead, he simply nodded and tucked her card safely into his wallet.

*

“This is insane,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the door out of the way. It had been two days since he left The Sunflower Bistro and the pretty, sunflowery girl he was completely enamored with after hardly speaking to her. While her phone number weighed heavily in his wallet, he couldn’t bring himself to call her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to get a word out when she answered.

How he thought he was going to talk to her without Sarah and Mitch as a buffer was beyond him, but he couldn’t walk past this place either knowing he could see her and try to make up for his tragic first impression. “Hey Harry!” She said walking by the hostess stand. “Nice to see you again! Niall, can you put him in my section?” She asked.

Harry felt the words die in his throat, so he was glad he didn’t have to speak to Niall.

“A regular, hmm? Took you long enough,” Niall called after her.

“Had to hold out for a good one!” She shouted back and disappeared behind a door.

Harry wondered if all those times he had been in love before were real. His chest was fluttering with some emotion he hadn’t felt before then. It was a longing that filled every ounce of his lungs, every cell of his blood. Every inch of him. Like some kind of homing sound was coming from her and echoing in his body. He felt so unbelievably whole when he looked at her. Like he was seen.

Niall brought Harry to a table and smiled at him as he left.

“Hey! I was hoping you’d text or call, I figured it was my crummy card that deterred you. Or maybe it was unreadable,” that laugh of hers was a melody Harry wasn’t going to forget for the rest of his life. She leaned on the opposite side of the booth looking at him. Her hair was pulled back the same way as it was the other night. Silky and pretty. Harry wanted to slide his fingers through it more than anything. Her smile that had haunted all his thoughts at work and made him grin at his computer screen like a lunatic was also still just as earth shatteringly beautiful as last time. Made him tongue-tied just as he was last time.

“Um...yeah, no...,” he managed to smile at her joke. “M’jus’...” he shook his head trying to think of a reasonable excuse that would make any sense as to why he hadn’t called the pretty girl yet.

“Hey, no worries; I’m sure work keeps you busy!” Her voice was cheerful. “I’m glad to see you, is all. Are your friends coming?” His heart nearly stopped that she was glad to see him.

“Not this time,” he hoped that wouldn’t disappoint her because then he would call Mitch and Sarah and order them over. He still had a right mind to do so. Seemed to be the only way he would be able to talk to her more than a few mumbled words.

“Alright, well I’ll let you mull over the menu while I grab you a water. Unless you want something else?”

Drinking alcohol around her might make him fully mute. Or make him spill every thought he had. Without his friends as a buffer, both seemed heinous. “Water’s good.”

“I’ll be right back,” she flitted off like she was floating. Harry believed she was an angel so that made sense.

“C’mon Harry,” he mumbled to himself looking over the menu deciding what he would try today. He was fortunate the food was so good, and it would give him an excuse to come back more times than probably necessary so he could see her again.

“Here you are!” She practically chirped, setting his glass of water in front of him. She leaned against the opposite side of the booth again. “Anything look good?” She asked.

Her.

“Um...m’a fan of street corn,” he scanned the menu again.

“That’s probably my favorite app on there—or the pretzel bites with queso. It shouldn’t work but it does. The veggie soup here is criminally underrated but it’s not really soup season so no fault there. I’ll give you a couple more minutes,” she sauntered off again with her kind smile.

Harry wondered what her favorite song was and why she got into finance. He wanted to ask her what her least favorite subject was in school and what kind of music she listened to while she was cooking. Knowing her favorite candle and what kind of shampoo she used seemed like critical information he needed to know. He wanted to know how many siblings she had and whether or not she would want two kids or three.

All of which was ridiculous.

And further proof Harry had never been in love with anyone before he saw her.

*

Harry visited on Mondays and Fridays. It was a good way to start his week and a great way to end his week. Seeing her bookended by the workweek was nothing short of perfect.

He did this for three weeks. Niall merely smiled, as if he knew why he was there. Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink each time the staff gave him a knowing smile. It was obvious he was there to see her. To be placed in her section. “Hey Harry!” She chirped when he sat at his regular table.

Mitch and Sarah joined him twice more since the day they brought him. He was less tongue-tied but nearly just as shy. They gave him an immense amount of shit for being so smitten. But Sarah thought it was adorable. “You could just ask her out.”

“S’creepy,” he grumbled. “I doubt a waitress wants t’be hit on by their customer.”

“Right, coming twice a week just to see her isn’t creepy,” Mitch eyed him suspiciously as he sipped his drink.

Harry sighed in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I jus’—”

“Hey guys,” she nearly cooed so sweetly. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m running a little behind today. I’m really sorry. This has been the longest double in the world,” her smile was still adorable. But she did look tired. Poor thing. “We’re down a server. And a line cook,” the exhaustion she felt was palpable.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah cooed. “Harry, scoot over, let her sit,” she ordered.

Harry did immediately. Simultaneously terrified and excited to be so close to her. “Oh, it’s alright. I just—”

“Seriously, darling,” Mitch smiled. “Sit,” he encouraged.

She did.

The warmth of her body rolled off her and wafted over Harry in waves. It was like a gentle hug. His heart was rapidly beating, as it always did but somehow even faster now that she was so close to him. “Thank you, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I need new shoes, but my car just ate up a big chunk of my paycheck,” she frowned. “When it rains it pours right?”

Harry was trying to figure out the best course of action to help her on every front. He already imagined her tip was going to be exorbitant and he hoped she wouldn’t be upset by that—because he truly wanted to help her. “Have y’eaten yet?” He asked softly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I have been running around like crazy. Totally missed my chance at lunch.”

“S’not good, love,” Harry frowned. He wanted to call her Miss Sunflower or something similar, but he had one neuron still keeping him sane and decided ‘love’ was more neutral than not.

She nodded in agreement. “I know, I shouldn’t even be sitting. I’m sorry to lay all that on you guys. You’re just the first nice group I’ve had all day. It’s like a break in itself—not that I won’t do what you need and—”

“Oh please,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We can just fill this table for you if that will make your life easier. Don’t worry about us,” she assured her.

The relief on her face was so sweet. Harry struggled to not wrap her in a hug beside him. “Thank you guys. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve never had my own regulars before,” her smile was so cute Harry wanted to kiss every inch of her face. His skin felt warm sitting so close to her. Snaking his arm around her waist would be so easy, so effortless. “I’ll get you a round of drinks?” She asked as she stood from her seat beside Harry. “Anything to start with today?”

“Pretzel bites,” Harry blurted quickly. “Please.”

He hoped he could convince her to sit and have a few when they came to the table. “My favorite,” she grinned knowingly.

*

When Harry sat in her section, she knew it was going to be a good day. His sweet smile, his easy-going nature, and just his kind presence made her shift immensely better. “He’s here again,” Niall sang as he headed to the kitchen where she was putting together a to-go order for one of her tables.

Her cheeks warmed under Niall’s sing-song tone. “If your food wasn’t so good he wouldn’t be here.”

“Darling, he’s not here for the food,” Niall sounded the slightest bit exasperated. He had repeated himself of the same notion since the second time Harry showed up to be seated in her section. “If he was truly here for the food, would he have left you a massive tip like that to get new shoes?”

The implication was there, and maybe she was having a little more trouble ignoring it after getting way more money from him and his friends than she had ever gotten while waitressing. Her achy feet felt so much better with new shoes too. So, part of her struggled to ignore the fact that Harry was maybe, possibly, there because she was.

Harry never made her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt nothing but comfort by seeing him. He was quiet, sweet, and very easy to look at. It took considerable strength for her to not stand at his table forthe entire time he was seated in her section. Mondays and Fridays were her favorite days of the week. Chatting with him (even if he seemed a little shy at times) was the best part of her shifts. His smile was so charming. She wanted to tell him everything about her reflexively. It was completely disarming. Or maybe it was how green and deep his eyes were that nearly made her voice die in her throat. It took a lot of effort to remember her job was to go get drinks and food for him at regular intervals.

She really thought he wanted no part of her when she didn’t even get a text message from him after procuring one of her lame cards. Certainly, with silly little flowers and dumb odd jobs listed, he wanted to steer clear of her. But instead, he showed up a few days later in her section. It made her stomach twist with nervous butterflies flitting inside. There were a thousand thoughts running through her head as she admired her handsome customer from afar.

“Hi Harry,” she smiled sweetly as she approached his table. “How are you?” She asked politely.

“Good, how are you?” He answered.

“Good,” she responded. “I got new shoes,” she pointed a toe toward him for him to look at the new sneakers she chose. “That was extremely kind and overwhelming. You didn’t need to do that,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I tried to stop you guys from leaving once I realized, but Niall—”

“S’nothing, love,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment. Her heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was and looked. “Was a long day for you. I jus’ wanted t’help a little.”

She nodded feeling gratitude overwhelm her—it was thick in her throat. “Seriously, thank you,” she hoped he understood how appreciative she was. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

“S’really no trouble,” he assured her with a smile that melted each of her organs to a puddle. She was lucky she stayed upright.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she turned and bumped into the table that was behind her causing the chair to scrape across the floor.

“Are y’okay, love?” Harry asked suddenly behind her. He gently touched the back of her arm creating a plethora of fireworks on her skin and in her heart. She shook her head and blushed nervously.

“I’m good. Clumsy me. I’ll get you your drink,” she nearly sprinted toward the bar so as not to embarrass herself further.

*

She was chatting with Harry, leaning against the booth. It was easy. Harry wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a great listener and when he did talk, everything he said was so kind and genuine. It was like talking to an old friend. Someone who just knew what she was thinking without her having to say much. There was this familiarity that was so warm it wrapped around her like a blanket. It made her feel so comfortable in his presence.

She never wanted to stop talking to him. Which was probably why she didn’t. Poor Harry listened to her chat his ear off for hours during the time he came to visit over the couple months of the semester. His quiet, “what’s that like?” Or, “do you enjoy this class?” And, “do you have a recommendation?” just kept her talking and talking.

It was hard for her to fathom Harry was there for her. Harry was graduated, had a real job, and made a ton of money it seemed if he was willing to tip a poor waitress an obscene amount of money for new sneakers. His clothes were nice, and his hair was perfectly styled. He always looked like he was ready for a business call.

His friends were extremely nice and friendly. They were also put together in a way that she never dreamed she could be so it was hard to imagine a situation in which Harry might possibly, kind of, have a crush on her the way she had one on him.

She was mid conversation with Harry. The fall semester had end and she was going to pick up more shifts somehow but was definitely going to catch up on sleep as well. She was praying that Harry would put her out of her pining misery and tell her he had a girlfriend one of these days. “You have to try this new dish! It has the brussels sprouts you like and—”

She was swept directly off the floor mid-sentence and was wrapped in a hug. It was familiar in a way that was different than the familiarity of Harry. Because she was used to this kind of hug. “Hey beautiful,” he cooed in her ear.

She smiled excitedly. “Hi, Jake! I thought you weren’t starting till this weekend!”

“I’m not, but I was nearby and thought I could use a dose of pretty,” he winked and headed toward the kitchen without another word.

She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry,” she murmured and turned to look at Harry again and finish the sentence she had started. “Anyway, the brussels spr—”

Harry had come to the restaurant in a lot of moods over the last few months. Tired, frustrated, happy, stressed, excited...she was pretty good at reading his expression and deciding what he needed or wanted to make his day better. This expression was unreadable. His jaw was tensed creating a sharp angle at his jawline she was sure it could have cut glass. His eyes were blank but watching her intensely. All of his muscles appeared taut—his posture ramrod straight. It almost looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.

Harry blinked, shook his head quickly, and cleared his throat. “Uh...yeah. Sorry,” he reached for his glass of water and took a large gulp. “Y’were saying something ‘bout brussels sprouts,” he reminded her.

She bit the inside of her lip feeling a shift in the air around them. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, right...just...I think you’ll like the special.”

He nodded. Still completely unreadable. “I’ll try it, thank you.”

“I’ll go...put that in,” she murmured and headed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was still greeting Jake when she entered. Everyone was listening to him recount his semester abroad. “Whoa, did you see a ghost?” Niall asked, doing a double take when she entered.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” she punched her code into the computer and tapped the meal for Harry.

“Did Harry tell you he has a girlfriend?” Niall pressed.

“No,” she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She grabbed a plate off the shelf for the other table she was waiting on and made sure it had all the extra sides and things. She grabbed the second dish and placed it on her arm.

“Who’s Harry?” Jake asked.

“The love of her life,” Niall told him.

“Shut up, Niall.”

He chuckled. “Oh? Were you going to tell me about him?”

“I’m a bit busy right now.”

“You couldn’t text me?” Jake asked. Jake had been her best friend on the job since Niall opened the sunflowery place. They were a great dynamic duo. But Jake was into dating a lot of different women and that was totally fine and his prerogative. She didn’t judge him at all for being young and doing what he wanted. But she wanted no part of his love life. So they remained friends and it was truly better that way. He would bail her out if a customer was being rude or coming on too strong. She helped him with his math homework and made sure he remembered to drink something other than protein shakes and alcohol on the weekend.

“There’s nothing to write home about,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth and feeling devastated that something in the air shifted between them in a matter of seconds.

Niall snorted in disbelief. She glared at him. Jake smiled impishly while she gathered the final fixings for the table. “Where is he?” He asked as she pushed on the door.

“Jake,” she choked nearly losing the plate in her left hand.

“Niall, do you know him?” He looked expectantly at him. He smirked, opening his mouth to give him the details.

“Uh—”

“Niall!” She snapped. Niall closed his mouth immediately and shrugged at Jake.

She sighed with relief and pushed through to the restaurant floor. “Table thirty-four!” he shouted, muffled by the closed door. She glanced back to see him hovering over the computer.

It took every ounce of self-control to hold onto the dishes in her arms. She wanted to scream. She hurried to her table to deliver the food, prayed they wouldn’t ask for anything additionally, and then she nearly took out another waiter while running for Harry’s table on the other side of the restaurant.

Jake was letting go of Harry’s hand as she approached, and she shoved Jake out of the way. “I don’t know what he said but it’s not true.”

Harry smirked, a good sign of his normal smile and demeanor. “Y’not friends?” He questioned.

She punched Jake in the arm who barely registered the motion other than lightly rubbing his arm without breaking eye contact with Harry. “Not anymore,” she grumbled.

“She’s my work wife,” Jake said wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Can’t get her to commit to being my actual wife.”

“Don’t want any diseases,” she muttered. The blank, cold stare in Harry’s eyes returned and she felt so warm she tried to push against Jake but was unsuccessful. “Harry is also in finance,” she explained. “He offered to help me make a new business card—”

“Thank God,” Jake interrupted.

“—and he might know someone for an internship.”

Harry’s answer was gentle even though the cold stare didn’t waver. “Don’t think y’need t’change the business card all that much, love. S’sweet.”

“Childish and unprofessional,” she said pointedly.

“Agreed,” Jake squeezed her to his side. “Thanks for keeping her company while I was gone,” he said. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. But his facial expressions made up for it. He smiled politely, nodded, and glanced at his phone ringing.

“I have t’take this,” his voice was tight, apologetic.

“Of course, let’s go,” she yanked on Jake and headed toward the kitchen again.

“Not sure why you like him, he’s pretty cold,” Jake taunted as they returned to the kitchen.

“Cold?” Niall asked. “Harry makes her feel all warm and fuzzy,” he teased. She wrinkled her nose and definitely felt warm at the insinuation.

“He’s... not himself today,” she admitted. “I don’t know why,” she frowned and turned to Niall. “It’s weird.”

“Darling, you can’t be this brilliant and that stupid at the same time,” Niall pinched the bridge of his nose.

Her frowned deepened and she felt resentment for the notion of being stupid. “What are you—”

“He’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of Jake,” Niall rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She snorted. “Why?” She blinked.

“Look at me,” Jake smiled proudly and gestured toward himself self-assuredly.

She eyed him briefly up and down. “What? You look like a tool who’s been abroad,” she remarked.

Jake shook his head, unaffected by her insult. “Think Harry might think I’m competition.”

“Why would he think that?”

“I mean, I did call you my wife.”

Niall laughed. “Oh God, poor Harry.”

Her face flamed. “I said we were friends!” She pouted. “Oh my God. Go back abroad,” she shoved him toward the door. “You are the worst.”

“Easy, love,” Jake continued to taunt, this time in Harry’s accent. “I can fix it,” he offered and headed back for Harry’s table quicker than she could catch him. But when they got there, his table was empty. A note scribbled on a napkin in Harry’s writing. Family emergency. Sorry :( Was looking forward to the brussels sprouts. You can have it on me. Next time. He left cash for the food and a tip anyway. Even though he never got his meal.

She pocketed the money and punched Jake in the arm one more time for good measure.

*

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sarah asked. “I know we aren’t best friends with her or anything, but she’s really nice. She wouldn’t lead you on like that.”

Harry knew that. Really, he did. But the emotion he was feeling wasn’t rational. Jake called her his wife and had his arm around her. He hugged her like he loved her. Harry was certain Jake loved her. Even in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic, but it was...unfair. Unfair that Harry hadn’t told her he liked her. Nervous that he would make her uncomfortable by hitting on her while she was working.

“She wasn’t leading me on at all,” Harry murmured.

“All the more of a reason to not be ridiculous,” Sarah and Mitch had taken turns telling him it was childish to ignore her after all those months of chatting with her and entrenching himself as a regular and then to just not because he was jealous.

“Just because you’re jealous—”

“M’not jealous,” he grumbled.

“Right, because someone who’s not jealous would leave before he got his food because her friend called her his work wife. Someone who’s not jealous would suddenly stop being her regular after months.”

Like clockwork.

Harry was lying on the couch at Sarah and Mitch’s place face down trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking. No one said anything for several minutes. Sarah was working on cleaning the kitchen when Harry arrived, and Mitch suggested getting pizza. Harry wasn’t even hungry. Well, he was, but he wanted brussels sprouts.

“I might be jealous,” he admitted.

“Hallelujah,” Sarah sighed. “Talk to her.”

“Don’t y’think she’ll be grossed out that ‘ve basically been...stalking her because I like her?”

“Hello!” Sarah nearly shouted. “She likes you too!”

Harry was flooded with warmth at the idea. “She’s never said anything,” he mumbled.

“You’re her customer,” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As worried you’ve been about flirting with her while she’s working. She’s probably just as worried.”

It couldn’t have been that easy or simple.

Could it?

*

Harry was reading his schedule for the day on his computer. They were regular appointments with clients that he had in on a regular basis. He had just returned from the breakroom after an hour-long meeting and was seeing what was next or if he would have some downtime for paperwork in before his next client. The schedule looked normal. Except for the one meeting blocked off for ten-thirty. “Hey, Kate,” he called to his secretary outside his office. “Do y’know who scheduled—”

But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, and it was already ten-twenty-five and she walked into his office.

He dropped the pen he was holding above the calendar. His lips parted as she entered.

“Your ten-thirty is here!” Kate called.

Harry was going to fire her.

It had been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked more beautiful. Or maybe it was because his office was light, mostly the sun coming through the windows and made her practically glow. Like she really was a sunflower. “Hi,” he murmured.

She wasn’t in her typical waitressing uniform. Her hair wasn’t pulled back. Harry didn’t know she could be more beautiful than when she was waitressing, but she was wearing regular clothes, a blue dress that fell to her knees and she seriously took on the beauty of a sunflower, it was astounding. “Hi,” she said.

“Y’can close the door,” he offered. “D’you want something t’drink?” He turned away from her and heard the door click shut. He went to the mini fridge on the back windowsill in the corner of his office holding a few small bottles of water. “Y’can sit,” he gestured to the chair. She did. He placed the bottle in front of her and sat across from her behind his desk. They were both silent for a moment. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Harry, I have this absurd love for numbers. People have looked at me funny since I was young. It’s like this really complicated puzzle in my head and I just want to solve it. None of the little parts make sense together until they do. The answer is so beautiful when all those pieces click, and the flow of your logic comes down to this one singular answer and it’s just perfect.”

Harry wondered if there had ever been a poem written about numbers. Or if what she said was the very first one. Harry was pretty passionate about his work, and he was glad he made pretty good money. But he didn’t think he could ever chat about numbers the way she did.

“I feel that way when I’m around you. That all this logic just beautifully clicks into place. You make me feel normal for liking numbers. You’re extremely kind and you don’t...” she bit the inside of her lip and looked at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I feel this way but you...you stopped coming to eat, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what I did. I want to fix it because I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and I thought we were friends. Then we weren’t. I liked picking out which special of the week you would enjoy. Maybe I’m too young or something to be friends? I can’t help that. Maybe it was because Jake called me child—”

“Don’t,” he shook his head unable to hear the name.

“So it is about him,” she frowned. “I don’t...Harry, it’s not fair to keep me out of the loop about what you’re feeling! I can’t fix whatever I did—”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did you stop coming to eat?” her voice cracked.

Harry wanted to jump out a window for making her feel insecure and nervous. If she cried he was done for. He sighed exasperated with his own miscommunication. His cheeks felt warm as they always did when he embarrassed himself around her. “Y’not too young,” he looked at her, but it felt like he was looking right through her. Like he could see right into her brain and read every word that was waiting to exit her mouth. “You’re not childish,” he affirmed. “You are...” He shook his head. “You are perfect,” he assured her. “I didn’t want t’ask y’out while y’were working. S’kinda rude. Then Jake called you his wife—”

“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered.

Harry ignored her comment (even though it made his heart feel the slightest bit better). “—I really like you. I think you’re way too smart for me. Way too kind. And y’work in a place surrounded with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t stop looking at you,” his heart felt heavy, the butterflies in his stomach were trying to escape. He used every ounce of his effort to read her unreadable expression as he watched her process everything he said.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.

He snorted. Of all the things she could focus on at a moment like that. “Love, y’have t’know you are.”

She shook her head. “I’m always sweaty and working when you see me.”

“Well seems y’had some proper prep time today,” he looked at her with a soft gaze that he hoped didn’t seem too excessive. “Y’look more beautiful.”

Her eyes seemed to melt with relief. “You were jealous?” She asked.

“Course I was,” he nodded easily. Like it made the most sense in the world.

“But... you never said anything.”

“I didn’t want t’make you uncomfortable,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine how many people hit on you while you’re working.”

She frowned. “Naturally not the person I want,” she grumbled cutely. Harry felt lighter. He smiled.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

She shifted awkwardly in her seat but smiled. “I uh...I came here to tell you off.”

He chuckled. “I would deserve that,” he agreed. “I... I have something for you,” he opened the top right drawer to his desk. “Saw it, and...it's not much, but it reminded me of you," his eyes were so gentle it made her heart skip a beat. He held out the little cardboard rectangle. It might not have "been much" but it was everything. A thin gold chain, a sunflower crystal pendant the lightest shade of yellow. "Love?" he asked quietly after a moment of her staring at the most thoughtful gift she had ever received. For another moment they just gazed at one another. Unmoving. Harry was wearing a button down, rolled up to his elbows. He looked at ease, finally. His cheeks flushed. His eyes so green and beautiful. She could barely breathe.

Then finally, Harry spoke again.

"Would you like t'go out with me?"

--

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[girlgenius1111]

give yourself a reason

engen!reader memories, and the present. changes. sol reflects on how different her life is now. good different. even if getting to the good was hard. here she is.

warnings: discussions of depression. sol gets into a fight. with people, and then a mug and a picture frame so, some blood.

------

It was a bit of a deja vu moment, honestly. You were sitting in the dean’s office once again, only a couple months after the last time. Then, you had been pretending you didn’t care. A lot had happened since, and a casualty of the progress you’d made was that you could no longer pretend not to care. You did care. You cared so much, you thought you might throw up. 

You’d begged them not to call Ingrid. Begged. They had anyway. You couldn’t help but worry about her reaction to this most recent fight, though it hadn’t been your fault. You hadn’t been in trouble since everything had happened, and you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Would everything change? Would Ingrid still want you? Every set back you had, every mistake you made, had you convinced that Ingrid was going to change her mind, and send you back to Norway. You were working on it, thinking of yourself as worthy of their love, but it wasn’t easy, and you felt your eyes stinging with tears that had nothing to do with the beating your face had taken. 

You weren’t sure you could go back to not feeling loved, not when you’d been experiencing something so different recently. The dean didn’t seem to care that your face was rapidly swelling, that you were crying, or that you hadn’t stopped bouncing your knee since you’d been brought into the office. He’d already let the boys go with a warning. He hadn’t even called their parents. You didn’t know what to do when Ingrid arrived, didn’t know whether to try to explain, or to stay quiet and just take your punishment. 

You felt so weak, suddenly. Crying, in front of this absolute asshole? Normally, you’d never let a person you didn’t know well see you this emotional, but your face really hurt, and honestly, you just wanted a hug. You were pretty terrified, though, that you wouldn’t get one. 

That you didn’t deserve one. 

The speaker in the office crackled to life, then, and the secretary’s voice rang out into the room. “Ms. Engen’s guardian is here.” 

The dean took a break from glaring at you to hit the button on the speaker. “Send her in.” 

You directed your gaze at the ground and tried to make yourself as small as possible, hearing the door open behind you.

“Mi sol, are you okay?” Mapi said instantly, moving quickly into the room and crouching down next to your chair. You refused to look at her, and she knew she had to be careful about this. Mapi showing up instead of Ingrid was a relief, but only for a moment. Then, you were just worried that she was too mad to come get you. 

“I was expecting the elder Ms. Engen,” the principal began, though he was quickly interrupted by your sister’s girlfriend. 

“Ingrid couldn’t get away from work, and I am a guardian too. Her face is bleeding, and her hands. Has she been seen by the nurse?” Mapi asked bitingly, scowling at the man on the other side of the desk. 

He looked a little put out. “Well, no, we were-” 

“Jesus, she could have a concussion.” Mapi snapped, her gentle hand on your back completely contradicting her sharp tone.   

“I don’t think-” 

Mapi ignored his response completely, slowly moving her hand up and down your back. You were shaking, and Mapi knew that if she wanted to avoid a panic attack, she had to do something, soon. 

“Mi sol?” she asked in a much softer tone, frowning when you shook your head. You knew if you looked at Mapi you’d burst into tears, and you absolutely did not want to do that in front of the dean. 

Mapi thought for a minute, before she turned back to the man. “Can we have a minute please.”

It wasn’t really posed as a question, and the man frowned at Mapi before nodding somewhat indignantly and walking out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, you looked up, breaking Mapi’s heart with the terrified look on your face, and the rough sob that fell from your lips.  

“Oh, nena,” Mapi sighed, seeing the extent of the damage to your face for the first time. It was mostly bruises and a very swollen lip. Your knuckles were swollen, too, but there were very few cuts on your face, and for that, she was glad. Mapi’s hands flitted over your face, her own scrunched with worry. “I’m so sorry this happened.” 

“Is Ingrid mad? Is that why she isn’t here?” You choked out.

Mapi shook her head, carefully wiping a tear off your face. “No, no, she couldn’t get away from training. She isn’t mad, I promise, she sent me to come bring you to her so she could see you were okay.” 

“Are you sure she’s not mad?” 

“I promise, cariño. She is not mad at you.” Mapi replied seriously. “Tell me what happened.” 

“They came at me, Mapi, I promise I didn’t start it.” You cried, almost pleading with her to believe you. 

“I believe you, I believe you.” The Spaniard soothed. “Where are they?” 

“He let them go with a warning.” You told her, watching as her face hardened. She seemed to think for a minute, before she stood, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you to your sister. Ingrid and I will come back later to speak to the dean and see the security footage. Venga.” 

“Mapi, I’m in trouble,” you tried to tell her, but she just shook her head. 

“Not with us. We’ll deal with it later, I promise. I want to get you taken care of and calmed down first, and I don’t think I can do that here.” Mapi told you gently, pulling you out of the room when you nodded hesitantly. You hadn’t realized you were shaking intensely until Mapi had mentioned getting you calmed down. You supposed you were getting close to a panic attack, and just hadn’t noticed. 

You continued to tune out as Mapi led you out of the office, standing in front of you protectively when she addressed the dean. 

“Ingrid and I will be back later to discuss the situation. We’re leaving now.” She told him. 

He looked at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “She can’t just leave, we have to discuss her punishment.” 

“We can discuss it later.” Mapi repeated, turning without another word towards the door, guiding you out of the school. 

Once you were out the door, Mapi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, steadying your shaky steps. “Alright, we’re almost to the car, just hang on, okay?” 

You could only nod in response, starting to lose yourself in your head, clinging tightly onto Mapi. Time seemed to speed up, or skip ahead entirely as suddenly you found yourself in the passenger seat of the car, your sister’s girlfriend buckling your seatbelt for you. 

“In and out, nena. Just breathe. Everything is okay. No one is upset with you.” Mapi was saying, waiting for you to give a faint nod before she made her way over to the driver's side door. It was quiet in the car save for the hum of the engine and the gasping inhales and exhales coming from you every few seconds. 

“Tell me what you’re worried about.” Mapi instructed, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ingrid- Ingrid is gonna be mad and make me go back to Norway,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as another wave of panic washed over you.

“That is not going to happen.” Mapi said confidently, grabbing her phone and clicking Ingrid’s contact. Her girlfriend picked up astoundingly quickly considering she was supposed to be training, and her voice over the phone made you both terrified and reassured at the same time. 

“We’re in the car, she was too upset, we can come talk to the dean later.”

“What do you mean she’s too upset? Is she okay?” Ingrid asked worriedly. 

“Talk to her.” Mapi instructed, holding the phone out to you. You looked at her pleadingly, but she just nodded encouragingly, eyes fixed on the road in front of her. “It’s okay, nena, just tell Ingrid what you told me.” 

Ingrid could tell when you took the phone, as she could suddenly hear your rapid breaths as you gulped in air and tried to get the words out. “Hey, it’s just me. You can tell me.” Ingrid said softly. 

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Mapi’s thumb tracing over the back of your hand instead of the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “M’ scared you’re mad and you’re going to send me back to Norway.” 

“I’m not mad. This wasn’t your fault, just like the last one wasn’t, and I am not angry with you. You are not going back to Norway. You are staying right here with me and Mapi. You’re okay, Solstråle, I promise.” 

“Okay.” You said, nodding your head as you replayed her words over and over in your head. “Okay.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. I have to go, but Mapi is bringing you over, okay? I’ll see you soon.” 

Mapi quickly bid her girlfriend a goodbye before hanging up, though her hand didn’t release yours for the rest of the car ride. 

Getting to the Barça grounds was somewhat of a blur, and before you knew it, Mapi was leading you to the pitch where Ingrid was running drills. When Ingrid spotted you, loitering on the sidelines, she spoke a few quick words to Jona before making her way over.. You were half hidden behind Mapi, which was no accident, but the concern on Ingrid’s face brought another round of tears to your eyes. You stepped forward anxiously, bottom lip beginning to wobble. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ingrid sighed, getting a quick look at the wounds on your face before you were barrelling into her and wrapping your arms tightly around your sister. “Hey, it’s okay.” She whispered, running her hand through your tangled hair in a soothing manner. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you blubbered. If you had been even a smidge calmer, you would have been embarrassed about sobbing into your sister’s training kit in front of most of the team. 

“Don’t apologize, Solstråle. Everything is okay.” She soothed, looking over your shoulder at Mapi, before pulling away from the hug to examine your face. She frowned deeply at the damage that had been inflicted, trying to shove her anger down. It would only scare you further, and you really didn’t need that right now. 

“It hurts,” you whimpered, flinching as Ingrid’s finger accidentally made contact with an already forming bruise. The way you were acting was so out of character for you, Ingrid felt her worry growing by the second. You were so upset, you were shaking and sobbing. It hadn’t really occurred to anyone how triggering this might be for you, what a reminder this fight would be. Not just of what had happened a few months ago, but of your time in Norway. There wasn’t a fight you’d gotten into that you didn’t have to take care of your own cuts and bruises. No one ever heard you out, no one was ever not mad at you. 

A fight had been the last straw before you were sent to Spain, and it was as if all the feelings you’d repressed during those occasions were flooding back through your body, until your nervous system was in overdrive. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid said again, trying to get your attention back on her. You hummed in response, forcing your eyes to focus on your sister. “Two options, okay? We can have the physios patch your face up, or we can go see a doctor. What would you prefer?”

It was something Mapi had read in her definitely-not-a-parenting parenting book. Giving you options in a situation you were anxious about forced you to calm down a bit, and choose. It gave you a sense of control, while still ensuring that you did what had to be done. 

“Physios.” You told her, after just a minute of consideration. “Go back to training, Ingrid. I’ll be okay.” 

You were trying to be brave, Ingrid could tell. She allowed you this façade, and with both an encouraging smile and a promise that she’d come see you in a minute, she ran back to the pitch. Mapi led you inside, her arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. 

The physios were a tolerable experience, completely allowing Mapi to direct them. They didn’t touch you unless you agreed, each time asking before they made sure your lip was okay, or inspected a forming bruise. You very rarely got to see intense Mapi off the pitch, and it was interesting to see it now. When she spoke to the physios, asking question after question about your injuries, she was dead serious. When she turned to you, though, to shoot you an encouraging smile or squeeze your hand, she was back to being the Mapi you knew. 

She took care of you like you were her own. 

------

Upon returning home, Ingrid refused to let you retreat to your room and hide yourself away. You’d spent too long alone, when you’d first arrived. She was going to support you, and she intended to prove that. 

So, you laid on the couch, your head in your sister’s lap, a Norwegian sitcom playing on the TV. Ingrid was holding ice to one of your eyes, glaring down at you anytime you tried to remove the other ice laid across your knuckles. Mapi was making pancakes in the kitchen, at your request. Scout was on the floor next to the couch, though he picked his head up to check on you every few minutes. 

You were home, and you couldn’t help but compare today to the last time.

Ingrid had come to the school, and been furious at you. Today, she was furious for you. 

They’d left you that night, to go off to some team dinner. Now, you weren’t quite sure that Ingrid was going to let you out of her sight for at least a few days. 

You’d been alone, then, and now you weren’t. 

And though today had been pretty horrific, it was another little reminder of how different everything was. You loved those reminders, and you got them often. You tried to remember each one, how good it felt. To be loved, to be seen. To be liked. To be cared for. It was new, and it always surprised you a little. Every time something happened, and you remembered what it had been like to be alone, Ingrid and Mapi were there to remind you that you weren’t anymore. 

-

-

-

It was just one of those days. 

You wanted to stay home, like you wanted to on that day. Before, when everything in the house had been tense and you’d barely spoken to your sister. School had been difficult back then, not that it wasn’t now, but more difficult. Ingrid knew how much you were struggling, but assumed it was a lack of effort on your part. And so, when you quietly asked her if you could stay home because you weren’t feeling the best, Ingrid hadn’t believed you. 

“Ingrid, please. I really don’t feel well.” You begged, fighting back the tears that were pricking at your eyes, even though you knew that they would probably help your case. 

“How? What doesn’t feel well?” Ingrid asked, trying to be patient. Your hatred of school was starting to bother her. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just try a little harder. At your work, and at making friends. 

You floundered for a minute, not sure how to describe what you were feeling. You supposed the word was depressed, but there was no way you’d admit to that. Ingrid didn’t need to worry about you like you knew she would if she understood what was really going on. At the same time, you wished desperately that she would see through your excuses. 

You’d been silent for too long, and Ingrid sighed, zipping up her bag for training and walking over to you. She didn’t look sympathetic, exactly, but she didn’t look as harsh as she normally did. 

“I know school is hard. But skipping isn’t going to make anything better, okay? You just need to try a little harder.” She said, resting her hands on your shoulders and looking intently at your face. As usual, your expression gave very little away. All you gave her was a small shrug, before you picked your bag up with a sigh and headed for the car. 

You were trying your best. How couldn’t she see that?

It hit you similarly today, as it had on that day.

 You wanted to lay in your bed and not move. Your body was heavier than normal. Breathing was hard, moving was harder. All you could do was think. And think, and think, and think. It wasn’t sadness that you felt, not necessarily. It was exhaustion, and an almost numb ache. 

You were pretty sure Ingrid wouldn’t make you go to school if you told her the truth, you just weren’t really sure what to say. It was nearing the time you were supposed to leave for school, though, and you still hadn’t gotten out of bed. It would only be a matter of time before Mapi came in to see why you hadn’t left your room yet. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, your whole body feeling too heavy, and you walked downstairs. 

Ingrid was in the kitchen, eating breakfast while Mapi made all three of your coffees. Your sister turned to look at you, her good morning dying on her lips when she saw the look on your face. It must have been pretty bad, if Ingrid’s reaction was any indication. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Ingrid asked, abandoning her breakfast to walk closer and place her hand on your forehead, checking for a fever. 

“No.” You said honestly, trying to breathe through the panic that always accompanied honesty. Mapi joined Ingrid in front of you, her brow creased in concern. She couldn’t figure out from looking at you what was going on, you just looked… wrong. Unlike yourself. 

“Are you sick?” 

“No. I just… I don’t feel right.” 

“What do you mean, Sol? What’s wrong?” Mapi asked, nudging Ingrid’s hand off your forehead to replace it with her own. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just want to go back to sleep.” You mumbled, a single tear falling down your face.

“Try to explain it to me?” Ingrid requested. You knew it was a request, though, and that made it easier to answer her. Her worry for you was coming off her in waves, and though you were pretty sure it was warranted, you didn’t want her to panic. 

“It’s just a bad day. I’ll be okay.”  

 Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances, before your sister nodded slowly. You often described tough mental health days as simply  bad days. You didn’t like to be overly descriptive, or really admit what was going on, and that was the closest you’d get. 

“Okay, kjære. Go back up to bed.” 

“Thanks,” you muttered, moving to turn away. 

“Wait,” Mapi said, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you into a hug that was probably too tight, but felt nice all the same. Mapi’s hugs were always comforting, always made you feel safe. “You’ll be okay here by yourself?” 

You knew what she was asking, and you tried to speak clearly, even with your chin resting on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “I will, promise.” 

As soon as Mapi had released you, Ingrid was pressing a kiss to your forehead, a gesture that never really failed to make you emotional. You remember seeing your parents kiss her forehead when you were growing up. And while your parents never really did the same with you, Ingrid had. She was always willing to give you the love she was overflowing with, especially when you were sorely lacking it. 

“I love you, okay? Call me if you need me.” Ingrid said firmly, almost as if to reinforce how much she meant it. 

You agreed, promising yourself that you wouldn’t interrupt training. You knew they’d already be distracted by being worried about you, and you didn’t want to ruin their day anymore than you already were. 

The logical part of you knew this was ridiculous. It was getting easier and easier to identify unhealthy thoughts, but a part of you still believed them. Especially when you were already having a bad day. You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already were. 

You were the farthest thing from a burden for Ingrid and Mapi, but it was an almost insurmountable challenge to actually believe that. 

-------

You’d hoped, perhaps, that by resting right off the bat, you’d escape the worst of the depressive episode. This was a naive thought. Or maybe, you would have if you’d asked your sister to stay home with you. 

You really really didn’t want to be alone. It had been a while since you hadn’t felt safe around yourself, but here you were again. You thought you were done with this, over this. It was upsetting to realize that you weren’t, not completely. That this wasn’t something you could just… get over. It was a result of your brain chemistry as much as your lived experiences, and you could be smothered with all the love in the world. That wouldn’t fix the genuine problem inside your head. 

You were asleep when Ingrid got home. 

Her and Mapi weren’t expecting you to call them, even if you needed them, but they had texted you during a break and gotten no answer. Mapi tried not to speed home, but it was difficult when Ingrid was an anxious mess next to her in the passenger seat. 

Upon arriving home, Ingrid dumped her bag right in the entry hall, not bothering to put it away like she normally did, and went right up to your room, sighing in relief at the sight of you in front of her. Mapi was right behind her, melting a bit at the way Scout was perched on the end of your bed protectively, and Bagheera was curled up against your chest. Both of them were taking care of you, she was sure. Bagheera would get a treat and some extra pets, for sure. And Scout would too, but when no one was looking. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

You awoke to the feeling of someone brushing their fingers through your hair. The reaction you had was different now than it had been a month ago, and Ingrid had done the same thing. Then, you’d startled awake, not used to the gentle touch. Now, you just shifted slightly, content to stay asleep as Ingrid settled on the bed next to you. 

You felt Scout get off the bed, and Mapi begrudgingly agree to take him on a walk. You knew she was faking her dislike of your dog at this point, but it was more fun to go along with it and catch her napping with Scout or giving him extra treats. 

It was only when the cat sneezed rather dramatically on your chest that you cracked an eye open, unimpressed with the lack of decorum from Bagheera. Ingrid was trying to stifle her laughter and you rolled your eyes, stretching and wiping the imaginary sneeze particles off your face. 

“Hi.” You murmured, voice rough with sleep… and with crying, but you were hoping to keep that to yourself. 

Ingrid smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the edges in the way they'd started to recently. It was something Mapi’s eyes did and while you weren’t sure how Ingrid had picked that up from her girlfriend, there was no question in your mind that she had. “Hi. How are you?” 

You shrugged, the momentary distractions from your feelings fading as everything came screeching back into focus. 

“Have you been crying?” Ingrid murmured, eyes stuck on the tear tracks staining your face. 

“A bit. I’m fine.” You replied, trying your best to shake off her concern. 

“You should have called me.” Your sister sighed. 

You shook your head, sitting up against the headboard. It was then that you noticed for the first time that your sister was still in her training kit, when normally she’d shower and change after a session. Her and Mapi must have rushed home. The thought sent a weird feeling through your body; not bad… just different. 

 “No, I was fine. You had training, you can’t miss that for no reason.” 

“There's not no reason. You were having a bad day, and you needed us. Why didn’t you call?”

You shrugged, but Ingrid continued to stare at you, awaiting an answer. “I didn’t want to make you choose between me and football.” you mumbled, picking at a hangnail and avoiding eye contact with your sister. She grabbed your hand though, and used her other hand to tilt your chin up until you were looking at her. 

“There is no choice, Solstråle. I will always come when you need me. It could be the middle of the champions league final, or the middle of training, and I would drop everything to get to you. So would María.” 

You grew teary, trying your best to not cry again. “Okay.” Your voice broke, and Ingrid felt like a piece of her heart went with it. 

“Sol, I mean it. You are more important than any football match or training could ever be. More important than anything else could ever be. You are the most important thing to me.” 

Your expression grew disbelieving, almost stunned. “I’m not worth all that,” 

Ingrid tried not to groan in frustration. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you think she was upset with you, when she was upset with your parents, and with herself. “You are! Solstråle, you are worth that and more.” 

You were getting better, definitely. But your self esteem was always something you struggled with, something you always probably would. No matter how convinced you were, now, that Ingrid and Mapi loved you and wanted you in Spain with them, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were important to them. 

“It just… it wasn’t like that before. I’m not used to this.”

Ingrid’s face fell. “I know. I know you aren’t. But I promise you, sweetheart, even before, even when we argued all the time and I was so hard on you. I cared then just as much as I do now. I just didn’t understand how to help you. But I do now, right? It’s better now?” 

A more confident nod from you. “A lot better.” 

Your sister smiled gently. “I know you’ve felt really alone these last few years. But you aren’t anymore, okay? I’m right here with you.” 

There was something behind her words that felt like a promise, but it wasn’t necessarily a promise you needed to hear. It was one Ingrid had already made through her actions. And through the flood of doubts and insecurities, you knew that she wouldn’t break that promise. 

In that moment, you hated how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. How difficult it was for you to put words to your feelings, and express your appreciation and love for your sister. All you could do was try, though, right?

“Ingrid?” You mumbled after a minute of silence. Ingrid hummed in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand. “You… everything you’ve done for me. You’re just… you’re my favorite person. And I love you.” 

Ingrid could have sobbed, truly. She, too, had struggled to share her feelings her whole life, as you had. She knew just how much it took for you to say something so sincere, and not even make a joke after it. The brunette pulled you in closer to her, leaving a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You know that, right?” You wondered, after Ingrid hadn’t responded right away. She was trying to keep the deep emotion out of her voice, not wanting to make this moment even more difficult for you than she knew it already was. When you turned to look at her, though, catching her just as a tear slid down your face, you understood. 

“I do know, Solstråle. And I love you, so much, min perfekte lillesøster.” 

It didn't really matter as much, that you didn’t think you were perfect. Because for as long as you could remember, Ingrid had been the perfect one. And now she thought you were, too, and that was enough. 

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Ingrid added as an afterthought, pulling you into an even tighter hug. “Just don’t tell-”

“AHEM.” Mapi cleared her throat from the doorway. You whipped your head to look at her, both of you breaking into a fit of giggles at the sight of the very disgruntled defender standing in the doorway. “Well, your not favorite person just came up here to say that she was going to go get you both ice cream, but now…”

It was rather difficult to stop laughing, what with Mapi standing there with her arms crossed, a frown on her face, one foot stomp away from throwing a temper tantrum. You and Ingrid pulled yourselves together, forcing serious expressions onto your faces. 

“Mapi, I was just trying to make Ingrid feel better about herself. You are my favorite. Of course.” 

“Me too, mi amor. You are my favorite.” Ingrid grinned, before very obviously winking at you. 

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Mapi turned on her heel and headed downstairs. “I am going to poison your ice cream.” She shouted over her shoulder. 

Mapi was far from upset. It was enough for her that you seemed a bit better, and that her girlfriend’s anxiety had definitely lessened. Although, the day had clearly taken its toll on you and Ingrid, because when Mapi arrived home with the ice cream, she found you both passed out in your bed, your head resting on your sister’s shoulder. 

-

-

-

You swore as you slipped in the small puddle of water on the kitchen floor, almost instantly losing your balance and falling with a thud. The mug you’d been holding fell, too, shattering on impact with the floor. You heard Ingrid call your name, evidently startled by the sound, and moved to sit up on instinct. Instead of putting your hand down on the cold floor, though, you smashed it right down into a pile of mug shards. 

“Jævel!” You shouted, almost jumping at the burst of pain and bringing your hand to your chest. It was bleeding heavily, and you gasped, startled by the amount of blood flowing out of your hand. “Ow, ow, ow,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. 

“Sol? You okay?” Ingrid shouted from the top of the stairs. 

You tried to reply, but Mapi beat you to it, appearing in front of  you out of nowhere. “No, she cut her hand. Ven aquí! And bring a clean towel!” The Spaniard shouted, grabbing the broom from the closet and hastily sweeping the shards away from you so she could safely get closer. 

“I’m sorry, Mapi, I’m so sorry,” you said shakily, sure that you were about to be in trouble for not being more careful. The water spill was your fault in the first place, and then it was what you slipped on. Now, you’d broken one of their favorite mugs, and you were getting blood all over the kitchen. 

Mapi only had time to look at you, confused, before Ingrid came running into the room holding a hand towel from upstairs. 

“Jesus, Sol,” Ingrid murmured, crouching down next to where you were and reaching for your hand. You mistook her statement as one of frustration, and not one of worry, and flinched away from her in a way you hadn’t in a very long time. 

“I’m sorry Ingrid, I broke the mug,” you cried. 

Ingrid exchanged a look with her girlfriend, before turning back to you. There was blood all over your shirt, dripping down where your good hand cradled the injured one. Your face was frighteningly pale, and you looked completely terrified. Ingrid paused, though all she wanted to do was get some pressure on your hand, forcing herself to calm down a bit. She wasn’t sure why you were reacting the way you were, but she knew by now to take it seriously. 

“Don’t worry about the mug.” Ingrid said gently, holding her hand out again. “Let me see, Sol.” 

With a pained whimper, you placed your hand in hers. Only then did you look at the wound, and both Mapi and Ingrid watched in alarm as the remaining color drained from your face. 

Ingrid knew what was coming a second before it happened, hastily trying to cover your hand with the towel as you started to sway where you were sitting. “Fuck, she’s gonna pass out,” she warned, unable to catch you as she pressed the towel into your hand, trying to get the bleeding to stop. 

Mapi dropped to her knees just as your eyes rolled back into your head, and you fell limp into her arms. “Ingrid,” she cried, overcome with panic. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s just bad with blood.” Ingrid assured her. She pulled the towel away temporarily to look at your hand, and saw a long slice across your palm. It wasn’t deep, and though you might have nicked a vein, Ingrid was pretty sure you wouldn’t need stitches. Readjusting the towel over your hand, she tried to give her girlfriend a calming smile. “It’s really okay, María. I promise, she just really hates blood.” 

“She passed out!” Mapi yelped. “This does not feel okay!”

Ingrid bit back a laugh, knowing this wasn’t the time or the place. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes, just hold this towel while I get some water for her.” 

Mapi took over with the towel, allowing your head to drop into her lap as Ingrid walked across the kitchen. 

“Ingrid, do we have any smelling salts?” She wondered, poking your cheek a few times as your eyes remained firmly shut. 

“Why, yes, María, let me go check my potion making kit.” 

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm at the moment.” Mapi grumbled, again poking your face as your eyes started to scrunch together. You looked uncomfortable, and Mapi braced herself for you to wake back up and freak out again. Instead, you stayed unconscious for a few more seconds, unbeknownst to the Spaniard, reliving a memory you’d… kind of forgotten. 

When the picture frame shattered on the wood floor, all you felt was panic. It was panic that led you to lean down and try to collect the pieces of glass in your hands. A second, much quieter crash was heard as a piece of glass shifted in your hand, cutting your finger open. 

You’d never been good with blood, and you felt yourself getting lightheaded at just the sight of the small rivulets of blood forming across the cut. You shut your eyes tightly, all thoughts of being afraid of getting in trouble for breaking the picture frame flew out of your mind, and you were turning and shouting before you could stop yourself. 

“Mamma! Mamma!” You yelled, growing dizzier and dizzier. 

“Stop yelling, my goodness.” Mamma said, walking calmly into the room. She came to a sudden stop at the sight of the picture frame broken in front of you, before her face grew cold and mean. “What have you done!” 

“I-I- I bumped the table and it fell and I tried to clean it up, but my finger, Mamma,” you cried, missing the anger on your moms face and leaning towards her for comfort as she moved closer. 

“This is my favorite picture of your sister, couldn't you have been more careful! You are always breaking things, always making a mess. I am so tired of you and the stupid things you do when you don’t pay attention.” Mamma ranted, picking up the pieces of glass and making sure the picture was unharmed. “I should be the one crying, you broke my picture frame!” 

Your stomach twisted at her tone, and at the drops of blood that were hitting the floor at your feet. You tried to fight it, knowing it would only make her more upset, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Keeling over, you threw up on the ground, whimpering as your mother gasped in surprise. 

“What-”

“Mamma, my finger,” you sobbed, holding out the bloodied appendage towards your mother. 

Some of the confusion left your Mamma’s eyes, knowing just how poorly you handled any kind of injury, on anyone. 

“Oh, goodness. Come with me.” She said, not completely unkindly as she led you into the kitchen. There, she wrapped your finger up with a dish towel, holding pressure on it as you sniffled and hiccuped. She brushed a few flyaways out of your face, your hair always coming loose no matter how tight Ingrid braided it. 

At the kind gesture, you relaxed a bit. Maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore. Cautiously, you allowed yourself to step in closer to her. “Hurts, Mamma.” 

Some emotion, of what you weren’t sure, flashed across the older woman’s face and she sighed. “You’ll be fine. It is just a little cut. It is just a little blood, kjære. You are 8 years old. And 8 years old is too big to be getting this worked up over a small cut.” 

“Sorry, Mamma.” You mumbled, scrubbing at your eyes with your good hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to stop crying even as pain burned through your finger, and all you wanted was a hug. 

“Alright, no more blood, see? Now go get a bandaid while I clean up your mess.” 

“Okay, Mamma.” 

She sent you off with a kiss on the top of your head, but as you climbed the stairs, you heard the garage door open. That meant Ingrid was home. You knew she’d had a long day, but you couldn’t help the way your body sagged in relief now that she was home. Now that you’d get a hug. 

That was, until you heard Mamma’s voice addressing your sister downstairs, as you rifled through the bandaid box, looking for a yellow one. 

“Look what your sister did.” Mamma sighed. She sounded so disappointed, and you promised yourself to do better. Next time, you wouldn’t throw up. And you would clean up the mess all by yourself. Then, Mamma would be proud of you. Then, maybe she’d give you a hug.

When you came to, Mapi’s face was hovering ridiculously close to yours, and you jolted away from her. 

“Sol! You’re awake!” 

You tried to sit up, just as Ingrid’s voice rang from across the room. “Do not let her sit up yet, she’ll only make herself more dizzy.” 

Mapi’s hands pushed your shoulders back to the ground and you frowned, seeing Ingrid appear above you holding the broom. 

“No, Ingrid, I’ll clean it up,” you said weakly, even as your stomach turned at the sight of a bloody rag in your sister’s hand. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ingrid dismissed. “You stay right there until you feel better.” 

Ingrid cleaned up the ceramic shards, and you wondered just how upset she’d be that you’d broken the mug. It was her and Mapi’s favorite. They had made it together in some pottery class, and they often fought over who got to use it in the morning for coffee. And you’d gone and broken it. Ingrid didn’t seem mad yet, but she would be… right?

 After a few minutes of Mapi gently combing through your hair, she finally helped you sit up. Your sister appeared in front of you once again, first aid kit in hand, and sat down on the ground.  She moved slowly as she reached for your hand, trying not to startle you. You held it out to her, leaning against Mapi and inhaling shakily. 

“I looked when you were out, I don’t think you need stitches.” Your sister assured you, pausing when you only gave a short nod. “You okay? Do you feel sick?” 

You shook your head firmly, clenching your jaw shut tight. Ingrid still didn’t unwrap the towel from your palm, still focused on the uneven way you were breathing, and the slightly green tint to your face.  

Mapi rubbed her hand up and down your back comfortingly, exchanging a look with your sister. “It’s okay if you feel sick, Sol. Just tell me and we can get you a bag or something.”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t get sick when I see blood anymore.” You said, sounding almost angry. 

Since when? Ingrid thought. Still, she got to work disinfecting your hand and cleaning it up. Once she’d wrapped a large bandage around it, having tried her best to ignore the way your good hand was clenched into a fist so tight it looked painful. 

Once your sister was done, she helped you to your feet, holding her arms open for a hug. You looked between her and Mapi suspiciously, a frown set on your face. “You’re… not mad?” 

“Why would we be mad?” Ingrid wondered, leading you into the living room, having decided to make you rest on the sofa for a while until you looked less ill. 

You followed her lead, albeit still sounding very confused. “Because… I made a mess. And I didn’t clean it up. And I broke your favorite mug.” 

Ingrid couldn’t figure out what you were so worked up about. “It wasn’t on purpose, Sol. And you were hurt, why would you clean it up?” 

“I should have been more careful. And it was my mess. I should have… I should have cleaned it up.” 

It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of something, a somewhat vacant expression on your face. Ingrid had the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the one that appeared whenever your sister discovered another piece of the puzzle; the puzzle of why you were the way you were, why you’d left Norway. Most of the time, the pieces were intrinsically linked to your mother. And Ingrid really hated that. 

So, she wasn’t quite sure what the specific issue in this situation was. But she knew you well enough to know what would make you feel better. Taking a seat on the couch next to you, your sister brought you into a tight hug, feeling the way you froze at first, before melting into her. 

“I don’t care about the mess.” She promised, before she leaned back, her expression contradicting her words slightly as she took in the blood on your shirt. 

You smiled weakly at her, not quite sure you believed her words. “I’ll go change-”

“No!” Ingrid interrupted. “I’ll go get you a new shirt, yeah? You just stay here.”  

With that, your sister took off up the stairs, and you were left in deep thought on the couch. Mapi took Ingrid’s spot pretty quickly, handing you a glass of water to sip from as she studied your expression. 

Mapi nudged you with her knee. “What are you thinking about?” 

“I broke a picture frame once. It was of Ingrid and Mamma, and the picture was completely fine but the glass broke and I cut my finger on it. But my mom was really mad about the mess. She said she was tired of me and the messes I made. I just… thought you’d be upset. It was your guys’ favorite mug. I thought you’d be mad.” 

Understanding dawned across Mapi’s face and she scooted closer, until her shoulder pressed to yours. “I don’t care about the mug. And neither does your sister. We’re both just glad you’re okay, that’s all we care about.” 

“Really?” You asked in a small voice. 

“Sol, you could break everything in this house, crash my motorbike, and ruin my favorite sweatshirt. And I’d still want you here. I’d still love you, nena.” Mapi assured you, not a single trace of doubt detectable in her voice. 

You looked away from her, the eye contact combined with her words proving to be too much. “I love you too.” You choked out, still looking away from Mapi, but leaning closer into her. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“How could you not? I am the best.” Mapi said seriously. 

And then the tears in your eyes were forgotten as you laughed, always shocked at Mapi’s ability to take your mind off something emotional. Always shocked, but always so grateful. 

When Ingrid reentered the room with one of her shirts in hand, it was to find you and María in absolute hysterics on the couch, your hand and whatever had upset you so greatly before completely forgotten. 

She’d thought she loved Mapi as much as a person could love another person, before you’d arrived in Spain. And then she’d picked you up from the airport, a shell of yourself, angry and hostile. And she’d watched Mapi chip away at all the anger and all the sadness. She’d watched as you became you again, with Mapi’s help.

Ingrid wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d helped you, too. But you were her sister. Mapi had no obligation to you, yet… here she was. 

And Ingrid realized that her love for María Pilar León Cebrián had grown exponentially in the past few months. Because she’d gotten to see Mapi grow to love you. Her favorite person in the world. It was so much love, she thought some days that her heart might burst.  

Ingrid hated the process of getting you here, and of everything that had happened for you that had been so incredibly difficult. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t love the family she got as a result. 

------

hahahaHAHAHA IM FINE im FINE

i love sol.

ps. please tell me if you see any typos okay goodnight

[the-froschamethyst4]

Young Gf and Older bf

————

Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

SFW & NSFW

————

————

SFW

Older bf! Simon who didn’t know how he felt about having a younger girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who was getting called “old man” by his girlfriend

Older bf! Simon who learned the hard way that some girls have expensive taste

Older bf! Simon who doesn’t talk much about his girlfriend to his mates, he feels like they’ll get on his ass about dating a young girl

Older bf! Simon who did most of the chores around the house

Older bf! Simon who stopped caring what he wore in front of people because his girlfriend is his little hype-man

“Does this work?” Simon asks coming into his shared bedroom with his girlfriend, she rolls on her side to look at him.

“They don’t match your shoes, Si.”

“What?” He looks down. “I thought they did.”

“Here, go try this on and come back at out.”

Older bf! Simon who told his girlfriend about his time in the military

Older bf! Simon who forget how young his girlfriend is, so when he makes jokes or says a movie reference she doesn’t know what he is talking about

Older bf! Simon who was honestly scared to meet his girlfriend’s family. She told them about Simon being older but not how old he was

“And how old are you, Simon?” Her dad asked leaning forward.

“I’m…40”

“40!!”

“Y/N?!”

“What?! He treats me good, he respects me, guys my age want that trad wife, Simon doesn’t, I can do or say what I want around him and feel good about myself.”

Older bf! Simon who knows everything about you. How you like your coffee, what time you’re suppose to be up for work, and he even knows when you’re about to start your period, you know when he shows up at home with bags full of pads and tampons and her favorite foods and drinks

Older bf! Simon who starts watching shows with you but complains about them but deep down he actually likes to watch them with his girlfriend

NSFW

Older bf! Simon who woke up to you in t-shirts and no shorts or pants, he likes seeing you in a t shirt and panties

Older bf! Simon who has woken up to morning wood before and needed help to get rid of it

“Love,” he kisses the shell of her ear. “Love…wake up,” he coos.

“Hmm~ Simon, not now please.”

“I know, love, you don’t have to do anything,” Simon lines himself up at her entrance and pushes himself into her

Older bf! Simon who like after argument sex

“Fuck you!”

“Oh yeah? Fuck me?” Simon carries a smirk on his face.

“Back up, Simon,” Y/n says putting her hand up on his chest to keep distance.

“Fuck me right? Fuck me?”

“Wait, wait,” your legs didn’t work for a few weeks

Older bf! Simon who tries different things with you, like BDSM you both hated it because it’ll be painful for you and Simon didn’t like you hurt

DDLG, he knows the age gap between you two but he hates the word ‘daddy’ makes him cringe

Mask kink, you both loved it, giving the illusion you were being fucked by someone else and he liked feelings your hands in his face

Voice kink, you liked it because of his deep voice already, he was on the fence, not saying your voice is annoying or anything he just didn’t get it

Knife play, you got scared when he accidentally dropped the knife and it was very close to your hand, it was the same thing with gun play you were afraid something wrong might happen

He tried to be a sub but you could barely take it seriously

Older bf! Simon who has fucked you when you were doing your work, you worked in a private office and all he had to do was shut and lock the door and bend you over your own desk

Older bf! Simon who is handsy when he’s horny

“Simon what do you want?”

“I want nothing,” he says as one of his hands were on your waste and the other snacks up to your breasts giving you a gentle squeeze and you gave him a soft moan.

“Just do it already, Simon,” she moans

Older bf! Simon who has kept a pair of your panties in his pockets and has forgotten about them before, he remembers when he accidentally sticks his hand into his pocket and feels the lace

Older bf! Simon who bought a motorcycle and takes you with him as his backpack, he found a abandoned place were no one comes to and you two had a good fuck on his bike

[fastandcarlos]

Stolen My Heart : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: sneaking around the garage was only going to last so long, especially with lando norris lying around

You wanted to say after so many years you were used to being the baby of McLaren, but truthfully, it never got easier. You loved your job, you loved snapping photos, filming content, and just being around the team…one of them in particular.

You were always promised yourself never to tied down whilst at work, you wanted to remain professional and keep things friendly. But then you met Oscar. The guy who somehow managed to change all of that for you.

What started out as friendly conversation, soon became a little bit more. He’d pull you into a corner when no one was looking and kiss you, or hold against your waist to reassure you whenever you felt that something wasn’t quite going right. You were the one that constantly made him look good, that resulted in thousands of fans losing their minds every time something Oscar-related was posted.

People were used to seeing the two of you together, but as the more time passed, the more Oscar liked to test the waters. Unlike him, you were terrified that if something got out your job would be at risk, you loved Oscar, but you loved working for McLaren too. There were moments when he’d try a little too hard, resulting in you having to be firm with him, pushing him away out of fear.

“Babe, I wouldn’t do this if anyone was around,” Oscar told you as you shot a glare in his direction. Your head shook at him, trying your best to ignore the look of desperation that Oscar stared back at you with.

With one person in particular you’d had a couple of near misses. Lando. The one person you knew would tease you like you could never believe if he found out about your relationship. If Lando ever found out, then you knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the garage found out too.

Lando had his suspicions though. For the past couple of months, he’d noticed how much bigger Oscar’s smile was, or how much more excitable he was for race weekends at the paddock. Every time Lando tried to push and find out what, or who, had caused his new enthusiasm, Oscar would just brush it aside as nothing. Deep down, he wanted to scream out your name, but the urge to protect you always pushed that feeling back down again. However, the more that Oscar pushed him away, the more Lando wanted to pull him right back in again.

It didn’t take long before Lando started to read between the lines more, he’d notice how Oscar would always ask for you to walk and photograph him, how he’d sit up straighter whenever you joined them for a team meeting, or how he’d always compliment your work the most when the two of them were deciding which pictures to post.

Lando opted not to tease Oscar about his findings, knowing that eventually the right time would present itself for him to finally get out of Oscar what he was hoping to here, with maximum satisfaction too. His plan was almost working too until one night Lando went out to find you for some help with a post on his social media, rushing around the paddock to try and find you before the sun set.

“Y/N?” He called out as he noticed a figure that looked like yours, picking up his pace in order to catch up to you. There was only a split second between him arriving and you moving, pushing away at something.

“Hey,” you smiled, straightening out your shirt, glancing at Oscar who stood beside you.

“Am I interrupting something?” Lando quizzed, looking between the two of you, noticing the anxious expressions that you both wore, how uptight you both were stood as you tried to calm your blushing cheeks.

“You are actually,” Oscar suddenly spoke up, leaving you stunned. “I was trying to enjoy the sunset with my girlfriend, is that too much to ask for?”

“Wait…you two are like together properly?” Lando grinned, brushing his hand through his hair. “I always thought the two of you were just crushing, like a pair of teenagers back in school.

“Lando, shut up,” you whispered, desperate for something, someone, to take you away.

“No way!” Lando giggled, pushing against Oscar’s shoulder. Neither of you quite knew what to say or do as Lando jumped around in front of you, unable to hide the wide smile that was on his face.

“Reckon you could go away now?” Oscar quizzed, turning Lando around and pushing him back in the direction that he just came from.

“Well, that’s me sacked in the morning,” you sighed, feeling an arm drape across your shoulders as Oscar pulled you in tightly against his side.

“He’s Lando, he’s only messing with us,” Oscar tried his best to reassure you, pulling you close enough to kiss against the top of your head.

“But what if-“ you began, only to find yourself cut off by Oscar pressing a kiss against your lips, cupping either side of your face to keep your eyes firmly on him.

“I won’t let it happen, there’s no chance. Plus, you’re crazy if you think Zak will ever want to get rid of anyone as talented as you,” Oscar spoke, trying his best to reassure you.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, unable to clear the thought from your mind, filled with fear that this was the end of something. Your career. Or Oscar.

“I love you, it’s going to be alright,” Oscar calmly responded.

"But what if-" Before you had the chance to protest, he pressed yet another kiss against your lips, keeping you there for a few moments longer. It was a dangerous game with so many people passing by, but at this point, Oscar simply didn’t care.

“I know it might sound stupid, but trust me,” Oscar chuckled as he pulled away, “I know Lando, he might seem like a complete idiot…but he only is, partly.”

You took Oscar’s word and for quite a while it seemed to be true. Lando liked to mess with you both every now and then but he never risked properly exposing you both. He had his moments, and you had yours, hitting him or taking an unflattering photo of him any time he tried to reveal your secret. Like with him, Lando knew it was only a matter of time before you accidentally revealed yourselves to everyone else too.

As much as he tried to resist you, Oscar knew it was an impossible task. More than anything he wanted to celebrate those victories with you, but instead he had to remain professional, choosing to fist bump you in the paddock, and celebrate properly with you back at the hotel room.

One race when he was on the podium, you could barely contain your excitement, something that one person in particular picked up on in the garage.

“You could try and pretend like you’ve not just watched your boyfriend get P2,” a familiar voice whispered as they came up alongside you. “You’re not playing it very cool.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act in this situation,” you admitted, looking to Lando for a little bit of help to sort yourself out.

“Just say well done to everyone,” Lando instructed, stepping back as he noticed the people in the garage part as Oscar finally returned.

“And to him?” You quizzed, but Lando was already gone, leaving you stranded as Oscar came striding towards you.

A lump ran down your throat as you admired the trophy that was in his hands, suddenly feeling the attention of the whole garage was solely on you.

“I did it,” Oscar chuckled as he showed you the trophy before closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

You wanted to push away, remind Oscar of where he was, but he was like an irresistible force. You stood and kissed Oscar back, hearing a few cheers when the two of you pulled away a few moments later.

“Well, well, well,” Lando teased, smiling proudly knowing that you’d finally done what he knew the two of you would do, eventually.

“I’d love to say I’m surprised, but I don’t think anyone really is,” Zak chuckled, leaving you stunned as he threw his arm around Oscar’s shoulder.

“I had no idea!” Andrea called out, leaving everyone in fits of giggles.

“You’ve hardly been subtle, have you both?” Zak grinned, nudging against your side too as he tried to encourage you to smile and relax a little.

You weren’t quite sure what happened for the next couple of hours, between explaining yourself to everyone and celebrating Oscar’s win, you found yourself in a hazy bubble. It was only when the two of you sat out on the pit wall, all alone, hands intertwined with each other, that you took a moment to calm back down again.

“I always told you there was nothing to worry about, didn’t I?” Oscar whispered across to you, noticing you staring down at the track.

You knew deep down you never had to worry, if anyone was going to have your back, it was Oscar. You had completely stolen his heart, everyone around him constantly teased how they didn’t recognise him anymore. He was a changed man, completely besotted and in love with you.

The two of you stayed in a comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the first time you were able to show each other any real affection and not look over your shoulders out of fear as to who was potentially watching you.

Not only had Oscar found himself winning with you, but what he had achieved on the track felt as good as a win too. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, struggling to believe that the life that he was currently living truly belonged to him.

“I never got to say it back to you earlier,” you hummed, watching as Oscar’s confused eyes looked back at you.

You whispered those three little words across to him, the same three words he had told you earlier that day when trying to comfort him. It was a big deal for you anytime you said it aloud, but with Oscar, you truly did mean it. He made you feel special, cared for, and loved like no one had ever made you feel before. He was one of a kind, in the best possible way.

With your words, Oscar squeezed your hand a little bit tighter as if to silently tell you that he felt the same way. You shuffled closer so that you could rest your head down against his broad shoulder.

“I’d love for someone to take a picture of us right now, but no one is as good as taking photos as you,” Oscar mumbled underneath his breath.

“I could set up a self-timer, find the right angle, make sure we’ve got the right lighting,” you suggested, much to Oscar’s satisfaction.

“That’s a good idea, I always share your photos, so it would be nice to share one of yours to be able to share you with the rest of the world too.”

“You really mean that?”

Oscar nodded back at you straight away, pulling out his phone and handing it across to you. It was something that he’d wanted to do for some time, but now more than ever, he was sure that now was the moment for the two of you.

“Make sure you get my good side,” Oscar joked as you jumped off of the wall and went to set up the photograph for him.

“Babe, all your sides are your good sides!”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[keerysfreckles]

Lando request, maybe something like Lando taking care about his overworked girlfriend, maybe she has lost some weight and has a headache every single day because of it and he is telling her to relax and taking care of her

just love — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: lando comes home to his girlfriend pushing herself to her limit.

warnings: none! pure lando fluff! (not proofread)

a/n: one day closer to race weekend we cheer ‼️

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

lando loved traveling.

he loved seeing new views, and going to remembered cities. he was grateful during race weeks, meaning he got to jump on a plane to another destination almost every week.

however as much as the brit loves flying over the clouds to another country for the weekend, he wanted nothing more but to be home with his girlfriend in monaco.

he had gotten fewer texts and calls from her in the past two weeks he was gone. he was busy with a double header, and she was busy herself.

what lando didn't know was y/n was pushing herself. she was more than determined to finish her final year of college with a bang. even if that bang included her to drain herself, physically, emotionally and mentally.

she kept telling herself that if she got her work done sooner, it'd be a bigger reward.

the only problem with her plan, was the work was taking much longer to finish than she had anticipated. which explains why she's been attached to her computer for almost every hour of the day, barely looking away to eat and sleep.

lando came home to a dark apartment. not surprising considering it's almost one in the morning in monaco.

he left his bags by the door, deciding to deal with it in the morning when he could be louder without bothering y/n.

what lando wasn't prepared for, was seeing his girlfriend awake in their room. her computer in her lap with one of lando's hoodies covering her torso.

"baby?"

y/n jumped in her spot. lando's heart broke once they made eye contact. his eyes met her bloodshot ones, containing dark circles underneath.

he walks to the bed to sit on the edge, his hand caressing her knee. "what on earth are you still doing up?" he peaks at the computer, seeing many tabs open, one of them being for her psychology class.

"i need to finish. there's only two weeks till finals for most of my classes, and if i don't finish the assignments then–"

"baby," lando cuts off his girlfriend's rambling, "you're going to get it all done. you are one of the smartest people i know. i just hate seeing you like this. you've over worked yourself, just like last year."

y/n takes in lando's words, knowing he has a point.

"you're almost done," lando takes the computer from her lap, checking the progress of her classes from another tab. "you're done for tonight, okay?"

y/n nods, "how was the race?"

"you didn't get to watch it? you always watch the races."

y/n looks down, fiddling with her fingers. "i haven't really put down the computer since you left."

lando simply leans forward to kiss y/n's temple.

"that's okay," he stands from the bed and walks toward the connected bathroom.

y/n's only more confused once she hears water running from the bathtub.

once lando appears back in the room, he holds out his hands to help y/n off the bed. when he wraps his arms around her for a much needed hug, he can't help but notice she's gotten smaller since he was last home.

his hoodie seemed more loose around her, and she felt thinner in his arms.

"have you been eating?"

"sometimes," y/n mumbles into lando's chest.

lando lets out a small sigh, disappointed that his girlfriend would chose her school work over keeping herself healthy.

"i started you a bath, you just get comfortable and i'll be there in a few," he kisses the top of her head before leaving the room.

y/n follows his directions, as she leaves her clothes in a pile before stepping into the bath. she can't help but giggle at the bubbles floating at the top, knowing lando decided a bubble bath was better than a regular one.

she leans against the cold tile of the bath, finally letting herself breathe. no school work in her face, no deadlines, no teachers screaming in her ears.

she needed this, and she could sadly admit that she'd never pause her studies to do this herself.

in the time it took for y/n to put her hair up in a ponytail, lando was back in the bathroom. he changed into a pair of swim shorts, and was carrying a long tray. one that was left to go onto the bathtub.

"i wasn't sure what you were in the mood for, so i kind of grabbed everything," lando explained while setting the tray in the middle of the tub, resting on tile.

"lan it's perfect," y/n's heart melts at the sight in front of her. there were bowls and plates filled with chocolate hershey kisses, sour patch kids, rolled up sliced of turkey and cheese, three mozzarella sticks, cheese balls and two wine glasses of what y/n guessed was fruit punch.

lando kisses the top of her head once again laughing as she dives into the childish feast in front of her.

"you can join me, y'know," y/n states.

lando mutters an excited yes before stepping in the opposite side of the tub. the two clinked their wine glasses of fruit punch together before making dents in plates of food.

"thank you honey," y/n smiles at lando, feeling more than grateful for what her boyfriend did.

"i love you," she states, a blush still manages to make it's way to lando's cheeks at her words.

"i love you more."

[kaleidohscopic]

ON MY NERVES — LHC

PAIRING: haechan x female reader SUMMARY: you don't like lee haechan. you don't like the way he has to argue with everything you say. you don't like the way he never lets you have the last word and manages to piss you off on every single occasion like it's a competition of how fast he can get a rise out of you. and you especially don't like having to share a bed with him. GENRE: enemies to lovers! (ish) au, one bed! trope, humour, light smut WARNINGS: swearing, a spicy makeout session towards the end, general mature content and themes, mentions of jeno x karina WORD COUNT: 2.7k NOTE: meant to get this up for hyuck's bday at the start of the month but here we are... apologies if the pacing is a little off, i wanted to try my hand at something short (and sweet) plus this has been sitting in my drafts for way longer than it should have and i just wanted to get this out instead of letting it rot in my wip basement forever. basically not my best but we move!

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

The fingers that were drumming atop the covers so relentlessly for the past ten minutes came to an abrupt halt at your words. 

“I literally wasn’t even speaking,” he replied, somewhat bewildered, but not without an equal bite in his tone. Haechan was never one to just sit there and take it, especially not from you. If you were to accidentally spill some water on him, rest assured he’d be back the next minute with a whole handful of ice cubes to shove down the back of your shirt. 

It had happened once. Mark had been pretty annoyed at having no ice left for his coke.

To be frank, you weren’t quite sure why your friendship — actually, maybe that was too generous of a description for your relationship — with Haechan was so difficult, for lack of a better word. No matter how civil you had tried to be at the beginning of knowing each other, you’d always end up finding some trivial thing to bicker about, like whether matcha tasted like grass (which it didn’t, he was delusional), or if Canadian people were Americans (which they weren’t, and you had Mark on your side for that one). How you managed to survive so long in the same friend group was nothing short of baffling. For their sake and your own, you did your best not to rise up to his bait, trying your best at civility when you absolutely had no choice but to interact with him. 

It had been working pretty well for you. Up until now, where the two of you were currently lying in the same bed, in a stuffy little hotel room that would become home for the coming week, with nobody within these four stifling walls to put up a front for. 

You should never have agreed to come on this trip with Karina. 

“Just cut out whatever you’re doing with your hands, I’m trying to sleep,” you groaned, adjusting the pillow underneath your head. The comforter was just big enough to cover the both of you with nearly a foot of space between your bodies, but of course he had to hog that, wrapping the other end around himself like a caterpillar in chrysalis. Not wanting to move any closer to him, you gave it a tug, sandwiching the edge of it between your legs, and suppressed a satisfied smile when his attempts to pull it back were unsuccessful.

He dragged out an irritated exhale. “Don’t hog the blanket, I’m trying to sleep too.”

“I thought you were fingering the bedsheets?” you shot back. “Could have fooled me.”

“I wasn’t fucking fingering the bedsheets!”

“Then what were you doing?”

“It’s Kuhlau’s Sonatina in C Major,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Opus 55, number 1.”

You turned over to shoot him the flattest look you could muster. As if he was talking about classical music right now, when you were both supposed to be fast asleep to have enough energy to brave the 14-hour itinerary Karina had put together for tomorrow. As if he was trying to shove in your face how intellectual and sophisticated he was, playing imaginary piano on top of the comforter, when you knew he was first and foremost a League player, and a proud one at that. 

“Just know I say this from the bottom of my heart,” you began, trying to inject as much sincerity into your voice as you could, “shut up and go to sleep.”

Whatever snarky reply he was preparing to fire back with was lost on you as you turned away from him again, laying back into your previous position while trying to maintain the distance between your bodies under the blanket. The air was filled with the low tones of his grumbling, though you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying apart from a few words that sounded suspiciously like ‘shut up’ and ‘uncultured’. Underneath you, the mattress shifted, and the sound of rustling from the other side of the bed let you know he had settled himself in. 

Satisfaction turned the corners of your mouth upwards. So he could actually do what he was told.

Tomorrow morning, you’d wake up early, head down to the front desk and beg them to change from your current room to one with two beds. You were banking on the guest services agents tomorrow morning being different from the heartless middle-aged lady who had already denied your request earlier today, despite the desperation in your eyes. Murder could very well be on the books if you had to stick to this arrangement for the entire week.

You were teetering on the cusp of sleep, mind filled with wonderful thoughts about locking Haechan out on the balcony for the rest of the night, when you were abruptly pulled from your dreams by the sound of his voice. 

“You know, this is kind of all your fault,” he said quietly. Sleep still riddling your brain, you heard the words before you processed them, but when the sounds finally clicked into decipherable meanings, you started, bristling with confusion.

“What are you talking about?” you said, doubting your own ears.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, a sound you recognised. It was a surefire sign he was getting annoyed, and hearing it never failed to rile you up too. “This whole ‘sharing a room and sleeping in the same bed’ thing, it’s your fault.”

You whirled over to face him, sleep now cleanly slipping out of your grasp. He met your astonished gaze with a steady one of his own, standing his ground, never one to back down from getting on your nerves. Did he seriously just wake you up right before you were about to fall asleep, all so he could blame you for something that you didn’t want either?

A disbelieving laugh left your mouth. “How the hell is this my fault?”

“You’re the one who booked the rooms. Why would you book two doubles?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you fired back. You were nothing if not financially savvy, which the string of numbers before the decimal point of your bank account balance could attest to, and the booking website had a discount for the double room over the twin, even though the listings were the exact same. 

Except for a few things. 

Like the actual bed. 

“The double was cheaper and it had a better view,” you huffed. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I saved everyone at least fifty bucks each.” He hadn’t seemed all that grateful either when you had sent the screenshots to the group chat, only responding with a thumbs up reaction to your detailed message, but then again, he didn’t tend to show much emotion towards the joyous end of the spectrum at the mention of your name. Still, you knew him well enough that no response was a good response, because if he was unhappy about something that involved you, there was no chance you wouldn’t be made aware of it.

Irritation coloured his expression. “I don’t care about some stupid view. I’m pissed because I have to share a bed with you when I should be rooming with Jeno instead.”

“And I should be actually enjoying the harbour view with Karina instead!” You could feel the angry pounding in your ears intensifying with every extra second spent with your eyes on him, on the pinch of his brow, on the tight purse of his pink lips. “But no, I’m stuck with you. So however much you think you hate this, just know that I hate it even more than you do,” you spat.

“Which is why you should have booked the twin,” he said, stubborn and uncompromising. 

Never letting up. Always needing to have the last word against you.

“How was I supposed to know Karina and Jeno were gonna start fucking before the trip?” you cried, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 

The steel in his stare only hardened. “Because,” he scowled, honey voice steeped in sarcasm and eyes charged with challenge, “don’t you know everything?”

Perhaps, if you had paid a little more attention to the increasing time your best friend had been spending with a certain puppy-eyed gym rat over the last few months, you could have put two and two together before witnessing the two of them very publicly lip-locking at Renjun’s birthday party. Perhaps, if you had looked up from your laptop to ask her who she was going on a late night drive with for the third time in a week, you could have predicted the drunken love confession Jeno would spew in his friend’s bedazzled living room, among the many other things that came out of his mouth that night. 

Perhaps, if you had spent a little more time doing anything instead of devising every possible plan to have Haechan stumble off the wharf listed in tomorrow’s itinerary, you could have had the foresight to make changes to your accommodation before the window for free cancellations and amendments had closed.

So yes, maybe this whole situation could have been avoided if you were a fraction more observant. But it wasn’t as if you were the only person who could have worked it out earlier. 

The challenging slant to his eyes softened with smugness, almost as if he could hear what you were thinking. You knew that face, that stupid face he would make when he was about to say something he knew would piss you off. That stupid, handsome face that made you want to tear his hair out, strand by strand, straight out of his scalp, and then force feed the dark brown locks to him. 

“Or do you just pretend to know everything so you can get on my nerves?”

For a fleeting second, your vision went hazy white around the edges, like a vignette filter with the colours inverted. Everything went quiet except for the pounding of your heartbeat, loud and violent between your ears.

His smug, handsome face disappeared underneath your pillow with a loud smack. 

There was a short spluttering noise, muffled by the cotton you hoped he was inhaling. You lifted the pillow up again, just enough to see the genuine shock written in the crease of his brows, revelling in it for just a second before the shock could settle into something else that would have him thinking of revenge.

“What the fuck?” 

You swung the pillow at him again.

“Can you please just shut” —a thump against his shoulder— “the fuck” —you aimed for his face again— “up?” you groaned, a pleading rasp to your voice. Maybe he’d stop opening his mouth if this thing was glued to his face forever. You’d never have to hear his stupid voice or see his stupid face again.

Just as you were about to land another hit on his tiny head, a hand shot out, grabbing a hold of your weapon of attack before it could collide with him again. He pushed the pillow down ever so slightly, just enough so that he could fix his eyes on you and let their smouldering heat burn into your own.

“Fucking make me.”

You’d like to think it was the glint in them, the silent dare written into his chocolate rich eyes, that had you rising to the bait. You’d like to think he knew exactly what he was doing and what he was implying with that smart mouth of his. That smart mouth and those pouty lips.

You’d like to think it had nothing to do with the heat that curled in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him underneath you, fluffy hair dishevelled from your attacks, one side of his mouth quirked up at the corner, looking up at you like he had you in the palm of his hand. Like he could swallow you whole if he wanted.

You’d like to think all those things, but when the distance between your faces closed and you crushed your lips to his, the truth reared its head, breaking the surface of the annoyance you had grown so used to wearing.

You wanted him.

You wanted Lee Haechan.

Judging by the way his mouth was moving under yours, hot and frantic, it seemed he wanted you too. The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue, brash and messy, all those years of frustration pouring out and overflowing into the hard press of your lips against each other. Your pillow fell to the side, now useless and forgotten, and your hands came up to grasp at the softness of his hair, winding through the strands you had been thinking of tearing out just a minute earlier.

“You are so insufferable,” you gritted out against his mouth, pulling the plump flesh of his bottom lip between your teeth and giving it a sharp nip. 

He didn’t seem to like that. One slender hand came up around your hip, holding you flush against him as he rolled you over with an ease you hadn’t been expecting. Maybe the gym sessions with Jeno and Jaemin you had heard about weren’t made up after all. 

“And you,” he growled, dragging his lips down the column of your throat, “need to watch that attitude.” A hand came up to play with the strap of your sleep tank, waiting for your quick nod before it slipped under the fabric, slowly sliding it off your shoulder. His mouth was quick to follow, pressing wet kisses along the length of your collarbone. You’d never admit that the thready sound he pulled out of your mouth was anything even remotely close to a moan, but the smug smile against your skin was evidence enough that he knew just how affected you were by him, even if you wouldn’t own up to it yourself.

“Watch yourself,” you fired back, struggling to keep your breath from hitching when you felt the light graze of his teeth over your neck. Not fair. The game had barely even started, and he was already winning. Eager to make things even, your hands left his hair to grab at the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up until your fingers were splayed against the smooth skin of his toned stomach. 

Oh, the gym sessions with the muscle twins were definitely real, and definitely paying off.

An experimental rake of your nails over his abdominals drew a low hiss out of him. Now you were getting somewhere. He brought his head back up so that he was hovering over you once more, and fixed you with a dark look.

“Don’t play,” he warned, but the needy undercurrent to his voice was giving him away. He might not have said much, but the growing firmness pressing into your upper thigh was doing all the talking for him. You let your fingertips dip underneath the waistband of his pants, a teasing proposition of what could follow, and his gaze darkened even further.

“What are you going to do about it?”

He did something about it, for sure. 

He did a lot of somethings about it. 

He did so many things about it that it had you late to the hotel breakfast buffet the next morning, greeting Karina and Jeno with a flimsy smile and slight limp to your walk. You slid into the seat next to her with a poorly concealed wince, but she was too focused on cutting her boyfriend’s pancakes to notice, sparing you nothing more than a small wave and a quick hello. 

Someone else did notice though. Haechan flashed you a knowing smile, lips quirking up at the corners as he took the remaining chair at the table. A flicker of irritation bloomed inside you, but with it there was something sweeter as well, something bordering on the edges of thrill at what his look entailed.

“No name-calling or death glares yet? I’m impressed, you guys really are on your best behaviour,” Jeno laughed. “How was the bed situation? Not too bad?”

You and Haechan exchanged another loaded glance.

“Let’s just say, we both slept very well.”

[alkaisen]

yuuji pining over shy reader but she turns out to be a freak in the sheets

— blowjob, mentions of 1+ rounds, overstimulated yuuji, cowgirl

— all the characters i write for are aged up and over 18+

★ YUUJI who, during his first meet with you, assumed you were the sweetest girl ever since you were so quiet & polite to everybody.

★ YUUJI who soon becomes fascinated by you since you often kept everything to yourself. he's following you everywhere - making stupid jokes & the one time he hears your laugh (not because of funny it is but because of how lame he sounds) knows he's in love.

★ YUUJI who feels like he's the happiest man alive when the two of you start dating. YUUJI who wants to take things slow because he assumes you're innocent with how shy you are, flustering when he does quite literally anything 'boyfriend-like'.

★ YUUJI who never in his life before had expected you, of all people to be as wild as this, in bed - making him gasp, shudder, moan out loud, fingers twisting into the sheets. you're an absolute menace.

"woah—! god, fuuuckkk." yuuji's panting, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. he wanted to have your back arching, not the other way around. he grunts, brows creasing when he looks down at you, "baby, can we- haaa..! s-slow down, maybe?"

you're situated between his thighs, pushing his legs apart while your mouth absolutely devours his poor cock - the way your tongue swirls around his length has him seeing fucking stars. "mnn," you murmur, shaking your head at him. your muffled voice is sending vibrations from your throat to his cock.

"is this what being in heaven feels-ah!-like?" he gasps absentmindedly, eyes rolling to the back of his head. you grin at that, sucking in your cheeks so it feels even tighter, feels even warmer. " f-fuck! yeah..."

your head bobs up and down, swallowing his cock - giving him the sloppiest, most delicious, drooling blowjob he's ever had the luck of experiencing. yuuji at your expertise, is cumming in seconds and spurting his mess down your throat as he reflexively grabs onto your hair, making you choke on his cock.

it's the same after that, he can't stop cumming. not with the way your gushy walls are gripping onto him.

"haa..! mmmhh-" yuuji's absolutely spent, doesn't know how long it's been, for how many hours the two of you've been fucking - hours? days? weeks? he doesn't know, all he knows is that you've been milking his cock dry. "a bre-break would be nice.."

"hnn?" you look down at him with the same innocent expression you've had all this time, palms flat against his abdomen. everytime you raise your ass in the air, thin stripes of his previous orgasms stick onto your skin - making squelching, obscene noises when you land back down onto his crotch. "mmhh, a break?"

there's a teasing glint in your eyes, a subtle smirk on your lips - you're most confident when you're in bed. "you haven't even passed out once yet."

yuuji exhales shakily, a pathetic and dry laugh making it's way out of his throat. his voice is hoarse from all the moaning he's been doing, "is- is that what you're trying to-ngh!-do, baby? make me, hff.. pass out..?"

ypu raise your hips again, loving it the way his tip presses against your cervix when it comes down.

"ahh, more or less." you moan out.

his eyes are barely open now, he's exhausted and frustrated: "(name) please.. nothing will come out."

you clench around him again, and he jolts up - electric flashes of pleasure running through his veins. "shh," you murmur, "c'mon, you can cum one more time for me, you can give one more load can't you?"

yuuji whines, nodding his head. "ngh, mm'kay.."

you ride him faster now, and no matter how many rounds you've had with him - yuuji still can't seem to get used to it, "you feel so..mmh..fucking good..!"

you lean forwards, your breasts right infront of him and he sucks on a nipple - running his hands up and down your sides. and within seconds he's reaching his high, clinging onto you as you fuck the living daylights out of him; harder and more faster.

white, sticky and hot flashes of cum pools your pussy - but you don't stop, you don't stop when both his and your legs are trembling from how hard you're cumming, not when he's whimpering: "pleasepleasepleaseplease, (name), oh fuck- (name)!"

it's exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. yuuji doesn't know how long you'll keep on going but all he knows is that he'll keep on cumming, keep babbling out your name in pleasure over and over.

© ALKAISEN ⸻ do not copy, redistribute, plagiarise, translate, modify my work(s). i do not own any characters. all rights reserved.

[salethe2]

I’ve seen a lot of takes on this scene, and honestly they’re all so interesting, so I decided to give my perspective.

Okay, starting with Armand’s costume, which Carol Cutshall absolutely nailed. Here’s what she said about Armand’s costume design:

—“One of the things about Armand is he is so ancient and so powerful that he always presents himself as very open. Whereas some of the other characters are very covered up, he’s always very open because he really doesn’t see anyone as a threat to himself. He didn’t have any predators or any reason to be on guard, or be armoured.”

Personally, I find this design choice fascinating because, despite being a predator at the top of the food chain, vampires like Armand, especially as a coven leader, would normally need to remain vigilant. Yet, he’s completely at ease, even surrounded by other vampires.

I mean, look at him here. Sure, it’s not the deep, open V-neck shirts he wears in the interview scenes, but his outfit is still loose and open. And he’s literally surrounded by a group of vampires he knows are plotting against him. He even has his back to said vampires and yet, he’s not the least bit nervous in either situation!

Even with Daniel, he’s not nervous or afraid because he doesn’t initially see him as a threat.

So, if Armand isn’t scared of his own coven—a bunch of vampires ready to kill him at the first opportunity—or Daniel, who could potentially expose all his manipulations, then why on earth does he go into full armor mode to meet a seemingly inconsequential human he’s never encountered before? He’s literally in a turtleneck, shielding his most vulnerable area for crying at loud!

A for body language—honestly, Assad Zaman deserved an Emmy for this scene. We see Armand being aloof, a little suave and condescending, employing the whole, “I’m a four-century-old vampire; you’re just a lowly human” tactic. It’s like he’s sizing her up, wanting to understand who she is while simultaneously aiming to provoke her, curious to see how she will react.

As for his questions, he frames them in the way you might expect a coven leader to interrogate a human he’s about to turn. Questions like, “How will you survive? Are you okay with killing people and being a monster?” It almost seems like he’s trying to make her reconsider her decision to turn, but it’s all a facade.

Because the question he really wants to ask is the last one, and when he finally approaches it, his entire demeanor shifts.

He sheds the suave demeanor and shifts to a more serious tone, embodying what Louis describes as his "post-apocalyptic look." He towers over Madeleine, gazing down at her in an attempt to intimidate. At this point, Madeleine's expression turns genuinely nervous, perhaps even frightened—and understandably so. Yet, she holds her ground. It's then that Armand poses the crucial question he had come specifically to ask.

“And what will you do in a few decades when she throws herself into the fire? Because she will.”

Now, why does this question seem familiar? It’s because Armand has previously made a similar statement to Louis. He had forewarned Louis that Claudia’s mind was bound to deteriorate over time. Now, Louis tearfully countered that Armand couldn’t be sure of this, yet part of him probably recognized the truth in Armand’s words, which likely contributed to his emotional plea for Armand to look after her.

Armand realized then that Louis, despite his deep love for Claudia, lacked the resolve to keep her grounded, effectively sealing her fate, which seemed all but inevitable by that point. He even assigns Claudia the role of Lulu as a way to infantilize her and further break her spirit—almost as a test to gauge Louis’ reaction. Unfortunately, Louis does nothing about it, while Madeleine clearly recognizes it for the manipulation it is.

And what does she do next? Madeleine quickly gets Claudia out of that outfit and into one more fitting for her. By doing this, she threatens Armand’s plans without even realizing it.

It’s also interesting to note that the only time Armand is ever truly angry with Claudia is when he sees her with Madeleine. This reaction underscores the threat he perceives in their bond, disrupting his control of the situation, and here is why.

When Armand posed the question to Madeleine about what she would do when Claudia throws herself into the fire, her response was:

“Or maybe she won’t. You don’t know. Maybe I’m what she needs to survive.”

And the way she meets his gaze as she says this marks a shift in their conversation. Throughout their entire conversation, Madeleine often looks away and breaks eye contact, but not in this moment. Here, she meets his gaze head-on. Even though she is clearly nervous, and likely a bit scared, she holds his gaze because she is sure of her words. This is a powerful moment where Madeleine not only asserts her belief but also turns the tables—now, it’s Armand’s turn to feel uneasy.

Of course, you don’t see it in his face, but it’s evident in his body language. The way he becomes closed off, his hand fidgeting, and his gaze fixed ahead as if deep in thought. He doesn’t even refute her.

Even with Lestat, when he warns him about Nicky, Armand doesn’t stay silent; he confidently affirms his insights, and Lestat—of all people—clearly believes him. But with Madeleine, it’s a different story. He goes silent, not uttering a word in response. He doesn’t attempt to persuade her because he recognizes that her mind is made up, her resolve unshakable. But perhaps the words that really hit home for him were “You don’t know.” This was probably the words that sealed Madeleine’s fate because the last thing you want to say to a master manipulator and control freak like Armand is that they don’t know something. Because now, all of a sudden Claudia’s death isn’t a certainty anymore and he can’t just sit back and wait for her to lose her sanity. He must take matters into his own hands now.

Anyway, one might think that Madeleine and Claudia leaving, thereby leaving Louis all to Armand, would satisfy him. After all, one of the first things he asks Claudia and Madeleine is if they’re considering returning to Paris, and you might assume Madeleine’s answer pleased him. However, her answer doesn’t satisfy him, not after what Madeleine says soon after.

Madeleine’s words confirm that Claudia indeed loves Louis, and because Madeleine loves Claudia, she persuades her to return to Paris despite her obvious and valid disdain for the city. This revelation proves to Armand, even if they leave Louis, Madeleine and Claudia will always remain a significant part of Louis’s life. For Armand, this is intolerable. To him, Claudia is a dangerous manipulator and a competitor of Louis’s attention.

So even if they all lived happy, separate lives, Armand’s nature is such that he cannot live with the doubt and fear that Claudia might draw Louis away from him. Having been abandoned too many times in his life, deeply wounded by those closest to him, and left behind for others, he cannot risk experiencing that pain again.

Thus, in that moment when he speaks to Madeleine in the apartment, he decides that both she and Claudia need to be eliminated. I believe this was the real reason Armand was there under the pretense of turning her. He needed to evaluate how much of a threat Madeleine posed to his plans, and upon realizing she was basically a live grenade, he knew he needed to act swiftly to get rid of her. Because as long as Madeleine is present, so will Claudia, and as long as Claudia exists, Louis will never truly belong to Armand.

[kyracooneyx23]

Favourite Pest - Kyra Cooney Cross

Kyra Cooney-Cross x matildas!reader

part 2 of this

summary: You find out what's caused your best friend to act so strange.

warnings - nothing except its terrible

It was so nice to finally be back in camp with the Matildas again. Despite how much you tried to hide it, your time away from the sport had been the toughest months of your life. You were so grateful for all the physios and trainers at Chelsea that had made your return in time for the world cup possible. 'I don't know whether I should be happy or not that your back.' Caitlin said from opposite you on the table.

'that's so rude Cait,' you say placing a hand to your heart to feign hurt 'You should be glad your favourite person is back so your not stuck with these two losers.' You tease causing Mackenzie and Alanna to gasp.

'I'm just saying, now that you're back Kyra's going to be back to her pesty habits again.' She groans shooting a look at the young midfielder who was staring at the back of your head for the last twenty minutes since you had sat down to have dinner. Caitlin smirks slightly seeing her teammate pining over her best friend who was completely oblivious to what was going on.

Katrina had warned the other Matildas about what was going on with Kyra, but it wasn't a surprise to any of them as they'd been sick of the two of you being a simp for each other but not noticing because you both shared the same singular braincell. They were all just praying for one of you to man up and confess so you could finally get together.

'Kyra's only ever a pest when you're around. Since you've been gone she's actually been quite pleasant.' You turn around in your chair to look at Kyra, shocked that your best friend could ever be anything but wild around your tillies teammates who were your favourite people to annoy together. When you catch her gaze you send her a playful smile but she quickly looks down at her plate making you frown.

'Yeah, you bring out the wild child in Kyra.' Alanna pipes in, throwing a piece of carrot at you, the vegetable only slightly missing your eye you whack the tall girl before dipping your hand in the leftover pasta sauce on your plate and smearing it all over her face. 'Oh, your going to regret that.' She responds pouring a glass of freezing water over your head. You screech hopping off your seat and trying to shake the water off of you, catching everyone in the rooms attention.

'Fuck you Lani.' You snap at her, causing Mini to tell you to watch your language. You roll your eyes walking towards the bathrooms to dry yourself off a little bit.

Whilst your off in the toilets Tony comes in to where the players are eating to tell everyone the room arrangements as he reads of the names Kyra feels her heart sink as she finds out she'll be rooming with you. Normally she would be excited knowing the two of you would end up staying way past your bedtime watching movies and planning pranks but now she felt sick. Just looking at you laughing with Caitlin and Alanna made her stomach do flips, she was choking on her words and you were halfway across the room, she couldn't bare to imagine all the ways she could mess up if she had to sleep in a room with you.

Mini must've noticed Kyra's discomfort and places a discreet hand on her knee. 'If its really that bad I can ask if me and you can room together instead, I'm sure Charli wouldn't mind rooming with y/n.' The older girl whispers in Kyra's ear.

'What if she finds out though?' Kyra asks dully fiddling with the fork in her hand. She didn't want you knowing that she had swapped rooms just to be away from you.

'It's ok, I'll make sure she doesn't' Katrina assures Kyra wrapping an arm around the blonde.

'thanks Mini.' she mumbles leaning into the warm arms of her motherlike figure.

You walked back into your room noticing half your team gone. You look around for Kyra but she is nowhere to be seen. You thought it was weird for the whole time you were apart all you could talk about was how you couldn't wait to be reunited but now you were here it felt like she was ignoring you. 'y/n/n!' Charli's voice rings through the room as she walks over you pulling both of your suitcases. 'I'm sorry, but you're stuck with me for now.' You laugh, the girls infectious mood making you feel brighter.

You walk alongside the defender making small conversation with each other until you reach your hotel room. You begin to unpack your suitcases, giving up after a few seconds. Instead deciding to get into bed and watch a movie which you hardly got halfway through until the two of you passed out, the jetlag properly kicking in.

The next morning everyone was up early for training. You made your way into the breakfast room very slowly still not fully awake, you keep your eyes peeled for Kyra but she isn't anywhere to be seen. You're about to sit down at the table with Macca, Lani and Cait but before you can place your stuff down an arm is chucked around your shoulders leading you towards a different table.

'It's time we get you, they've already got their fair share of you last night.' Ellie Carpenter, who also only recently came back from her ACL injury, tells you sitting you down next to her at a table with Sam, Hayley, Mary and Courtney. You greet everyone and join in with their conversation but your only half engaged noticing Kyra walk into the room with Mini completely avoiding you as she sits down at the table furthest from yours.

'Is something up with Kyra?' You ask the five girls who pause their conversation.

'She has seemed a little bit off recently hasn't she?' Hayley states everyone on your table looking at Kyra who isn't touching her food instead looking into the distance her usual smile absent from her face.

'I assumed the two of you would be joint by the hip now your back,' Mary adds 'has something happened?' You shrug not knowing why your supposed best friend was acting this way.

'Maybe she's just jetlagged.' Sam states looking at you with concern. She was one of the people who looked out for you the most, being your Chelsea teammate she felt obliged to make sure you were ok, always doing anything you needed. You don't say anything else eating your breakfast before Tony calls everyone outside for training.

Your walking outside with Macca after getting changed into your training gear. 'Y/N, could we please talk for a second?' Tony asks you once your on the pitch you check his expression to see if your in trouble not knowing why you would be, you hadn't pulled any pranks this camp, afterall the person who always helped you execute your plans was avoiding you.

'Yeah sure.' You follow him to the benches on the side of the pitch.

'Is everything ok with you and Kyra?'

'I'm not sure, why?'

He hesitates for a second before responding to your question. 'You were meant to room with her but she requested to swap with Charli, and usually you two are the best of friends, if somethings happened I don't want to it affect the game on Friday.' The words shock you, you were already confused about why Kyra was avoiding you and had no clue why she would ever request not to room with you. You had hardly spoken a word to her, you were her best friend surely she would of been excited to get to spend time with you now you were back. Tears begin to form in your eyes and you rub them away, angry at the way she was treating you when you didn't even know what you'd done.

'I'll talk to her about it, thanks for letting me know.' You tell the Swedish man walking away trying not to let your anger show. You focus on training hardly talking to anyone except Sam who you do all the partner drills with. It gets to the time when you do a mini scrimmage and you are on opposite teams than Kyra. You play for a while not having many opportunities to create chances until Kyra receives the ball and you're barely two meters away, she is debating who to pass to when you decide to go and slide tackle her. You take her legs out causing her to fall onto the floor backwards whilst you run off with the ball before passing it to Sam who slots it past Teagan.

You walk to stand next to her as the ball is kicked back into play but she moves away when you get near her, you frown but put you attention back on the scrimmage.

You continue playing a while longer before Tony calls everyone back, giving a short debrief on tactics and all that before sending everyone off to enjoy the rest of their days as it was only a half day today. You grab a drink of water squirting some on Alanna who wraps you up in a headlock before carrying you inside and chucking you onto a couch in the games room where everyone went for a bit of free time. You lay on the couch before you notice Kyra walking in with Charli, you get up and walk over to the pair.

'Kyra, I think we should talk.' You tell her, Kyra gulps she'd never seen you so serious before and it was scaring her. When she doesn't respond you link arms with her pulling her away with you up to your room. You sit on your bed patting Charli's bed motioning for Kyra to sit there, cautiously she sits waiting for you to break the awkward silence. 'No need to look so scared, i just wanna talk.' You say calmly even though you were beyond pissed at the girl.

'How's your knee?' Kyra asks anxiously watching as your clench your jaw in frustration.

'I'm not here to talk about my knee Kyra, I'm hear to talk about the way you've been acting.' You snap at her getting straight to the point.

'What about the way I'm acting?' She laughs lightly and you can see sweat beads forming around her forehead.

'Don't act dumb, I've been back for over 24 hours and you've spoken a single sentence to me. I've tried to get your attention but all you do is avoid me, and I'm left wondering what the fuck I've done to make you act this weird. I'm not the only one who's noticed literally everyone I've talked to has asked me if somethings going on with us. It's not fair being treated this way when you won't even tell me why.' Your voice breaks and you feel your eyes begin to water 'I was so fucking excited to be back here not only because I'm playing the sport I love but because I got to be back with one of my most favourite people in the world, so how do you think it's making me feel when she is ignoring me and requesting for us not to room together?' You wipe your eyes not wanting to look like a baby in front of Kyra. Her mouth is slightly opened and her face is filled with hurt.

'I'm so sorry y/n/n.' Is all she manages to say after a long awkward silence.

'Really?' You ask slightly disgusted at her childish behavior 'Is that all you're going to say, I think I at least deserve an explanation.'

'I want to tell you but I'm scared it will mess things up even more.' She whispers looking down at her feet and playing with the rings on her fingers, one of them being yours.

'Kyra, I've seen you do the most stupid stuff and we've gotten into fights like this before and shit much worse but we always figure things out, I think we've got too strong of a friendship for it to be ruined by a silly argument.' You state.

'Ok here goes nothing.' She whispers under her breath not loud enough for you too hear. 'This is going to sound really dumb but when you were gone I started getting these weird feelings and I was really confused but I just blamed them on me missing you but after a while they didn't go away. I kept getting butterflies in my stomach whenever you would call and you were all I could ever think about, I wanted to spend every second of my free time with you. Then when you walked in I went into like shock or something, I was so terrified of messing up I didn't know what to do with myself so then I thought I'd stay away from you and the feelings would go away but I still don't know why I'm feeling this way and I'm scared because your the best friend I've ever had and I just want to say I really really like you y/n. Please don't be mad.' She speaks so fast it takes you a while to comprehend what she's just said. When you don't reply immediately Kyra instantly regrets confessing, you probably think she's weird now, why would anyone ever fall in love with their best friend. She considers getting up and just running away, maybe she'd move to Hawaii or some place like that and change her name so people would forget a mess like her ever existed. She's about to get up and leave when you speak.

'Why would I be mad, I like you too Kyra.' You say and Kyra's mood lifts but only for a second as you complete your sentence, 'I mean why wouldn't I, your my best friend.' Kyra's cheeks flush bright red and she buries her face in her hands not sure what to do with herself.

'No I don't mean as in friend, I mean I like like you.' Kyra says slowly trying to help you process the information 'as in more than friends.' Your jaw drops at her words, you didn't realise she liked you like that.

There had been times before your injury when you had begun to feel differently around Kyra, but you'd never told anyone this because you'd rather get to have her as a friend than not have her at all. You understood now why she had avoided you, you probably would've done the same if you hadn't told Sam about it and she told you to accept the feelings but not close off Kyra.

You had tried to ignore the way Kyra made you sweat with nerves and the constant need you felt to impress her, assuming that she didn't feel the same way. But here she was saying that she did and you didn't know what to do about it.

Your brain was telling you not to do anything irrational but the rest of you wasn't listening. You got moved nearer to Kyra, placing a soft kiss on the girls lips. For a moment you were worried when she just froze but then she began kissing you back.

The two of you melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around your neck as you placed your hands on her hips. It was soft and delicate, but it still managed to make your heartrate go wild. You'd only ever dreamed of it never imagining it to be real one day.

You pulled away when air became an issue watching as a large grin spread onto Kyra's face as the two of you sat in a comfortable silence.

'Do you forgive me now?' She asked and you laughed lightly.

'I will if you give me one more kiss.' You tease seeing her blush lightly. The aussie places her lips on yours again and you both fall back onto the bed. When your separated again she places a soft kiss on your nose.

'Do you want to head out and see the others?' Kyra asks you, causing you to shake your head.

'Can we just stay here for a while?' You ask 'I've only just got my best friend back, I think time just the two of us is well overdue.' A smile breaks out on Kyra's face and you match it on yours. You shuffle over slightly on the bed making room for Kyra next to you. She joins you the two of you lying so you can face the tv.

You turn the tv on and flick it onto a random channel, having a feeling that you and Kyra won't really be paying much attention. For a while you lay in silence, not saying anything. You're just glad that you've got your best friend back, even though it wasn't in the way you imagined and Kyra is relieved that she no longer has to act like a stranger around you, a massive weight lifted off her chest that she doesn't have to hide her feelings from you anymore.

'I'm sorry.' She whispers to you breaking the silence.

'Shut up stupid.' You shake your head not hearing it, placing a light kiss on her cheek. She gives you one in return before peppering kisses all over your face you laugh as she wraps her arms around you, lying on top of you and keeping you in position so you can't move. 'Fuck of Kyra.' You say but your words are muffled as she places a long kiss on your lips.

'I see what Caitlin meant by you being a pest.' you tell her laughing as she frowns at you.

'But you love me.' She grins and you shake your head slightly.

'Yep, you'll always be my favourite pest.'

sorry this is shit

[plutoasteroids]

PAC How Will Your Future Spouse's Father (Your Father-In-Law) Feel About You.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: This reading is solely for entertainment purposes only! I am not responsible for any decisions taken based on my readings.

This is a general reading so if nothing resonates don't take it to heart. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

ASK BOX is always open

TW: MENTION OF NEGLECT AND ABUS3. IF ITS A TRIGGER FOR YOU AND YOU CONTINUE TO READ ANYWAY PLEASE DON'T BLAME ME ITS YOUR CHOICE!

PILE 1

Your father-in-law would view you as something new and different, you may be the complete opposite of the general type of your FS normally goes for but in a good way because I feel your FS doesn't necessarily have the best track record when it comes to picking their partners. Your father-in-law will quickly approve of you it feels almost like they'll say to your FS 'you made a good choice'.

But at the very beginning they may feel a bit unsure about you specifically because of the way you carry yourself, you could be really shy and not talkative or super confident anyways they just won't be 100% sure about you more so because he doesn't have a clear grasp on your personality or even your intention.

Them being unsure will quickly change and the two of you may have a relationship based on understanding or similar values or opinions. You'll have some sort of mutual understanding that will bring you both closer, in the long run they'll for sure view you as their child maybe even as somewhat of a friend.

Your Father-in-law gives me scholar vibes if not heavy lawyer vibes, lawyer, professor, teacher maybe even a priest.

PILE 2

They will feel somewhat withdrawn from you. I don't think your future father-in-law is involved in your FS' life, as in they are around but they never took an active role, so they won't have much of an opinion on you. It seems like they might see you from a distance like maybe through social media.

But from what they know about you they feel like you're very passionate and enthusiastic about life in general because your life will be pretty well. They feel like you have your life together and they like that.

But there is some sadness here mainly relating to the fact that their child found their life partner and are moving on with life and they can't be a part of that. They might do some introspection to try change and get better, they may even try to slowly enter yours and your FS lives.

It feels like they may have been a dead-beat dad for some of you and for other just emotionally unavailable and maybe slightly abus!ve.

PILE 3

Your father-in-law it seems like they may be aware of your existence in their child's life, but they aren't aware of how significant you are but finding out about your significance in your FS life might be somewhat of a pleasant surprise to him.

He will have a positive opinion on you, feeling like you bring some balance and happiness to your future spouse, and it feels like he won't be too active in your life and that of your fs. Like not absent but giving you two space to be your own people and your own couple, but he'll be there when you need advice, or you need someone to talk to.

I think you may give him a fresh perspective on life, and he'll certainly appreciate your views and your opinions. He seems to eb more on the unconventional side.

Random information: He may pay for your wedding (if you want to get married) just because he wants to and it would make him happy to pitch in financially.

He may not be married to your FS' mother. Like he is married to your FS' stepmother, or their partner isn't the biological parent of your FS. I also get the vibe of it being maybe a same sex marriage.

[baby-yongbok]

Seventeen

Best friend!Lee Know x Afab!Reader

Genre: Friends to lovers?? Angst?? Fluff??

Summary: Mysterious letters from a stranger made you fall in love despite your best friends apprehensions. You think back to every moment that's led to you meeting your secret admirer but the memories do little to prepare you for the mystery you're about to uncover.

Word Count: 2.4k A/N: This is a repost because I just kinda... wanted to repost it? Idk. I don't think that it did as well as it could the first time so here we go againnnnnn!

❋ Italicized parts are flashbacks

❋ This One shot was inspired by the song i love you by Billie Eilish

✧ Masterlist ✧

Six months of mystery has led you to this moment. You started getting letters from a stranger, dainty decorated notes with cursive words declaring their undying admiration for you and all that you are. You’ve never been the type of person who’s felt seen by those around you, you’ve grown content with floating in the background and only being heard when someone chooses to unmute you. Maybe that’s why these letters felt like a thunderbolt hitting uncharted territory. Maybe that’s why each word that you read when you plucked the baby blue stationary from your mailbox made you feel dizzy as you burned with the desire of a thousand suns. 

“You don’t even know who’s sending these letters. What if it’s some creep?” Your best friend, Minho, grumbled on the other line as he struggled to give his stubborn cat her medicine. 

“No creep could ever write the things I’ve read. He’s emotional and profound and - and he’s…” Your mind wanders off into a daydream as you think of all that he could be. 

“A stranger, he’s a stranger. Listen, I’m all for fairy tales but I don’t want you getting hurt. Just let me take you if you decide to meet the guy.” You huff, he’s right he is a stranger and you shouldn’t meet with this guy alone. “I’ll hide behind a tree or something.” 

You giggle at the thought but agree happily. “If that’ll make you happy then sure. I’ll let you know when he can meet me.”

“Thank you.” A comfortable silence settles on the line before Minho speaks again. “Wait, how do you know that he’ll want to meet up? He doesn’t put a return address, you can’t send him anything back.”

“He’ll want to meet, I just know it.” You stare up at the ceiling with stars in your eyes and butterflies in your stomach. Minho scoffs on the other line.

“You’re so hopelessly romantic that it’s sickening.” 

You sat knee to knee with Minho on the Subway, three more stops and you’d be there. Three more stops and your prince charming would be sitting and waiting for you by Gapstow Bridge. You’ve been to Central Park dozens of times since you’ve moved to the city but nothing could ever top this. You watched as people piled on and off of the subway car, eyes glued to their phones and headphones blasting music or some mystery podcast that would keep them up all night but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to anything other than the hammering of your heart in your chest, what if his is beating at the same rhythm?

“You really don’t have to go with me. I’m a big girl. You have to go all the way back to Korea the day after, you should be packing and resting and spending time with the cats and -” Minho nudged your shoulder as he glared at you with narrow feline eyes. He looked annoyed but you could tell that he was amused. 

“I want to take you, let me see Central Park one more time before I have to leave for half a year.” a weak chuckle escapes you but it quickly drags off into a despondent sigh. 

“I don’t want to go either, trust me, but I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll video call in the middle of the night and early morning and we’ll use our friendship lamps and you can send me a million pictures of Central Park in the winter. I know how much you love Gapstow Bridge.”

“It’s beautiful when it’s covered in snow, really. You have to see it in person, there’s nothing else like it.” You force a smile onto your lips but Minho doesn’t have to pretend. His smile is genuine, it’s just the effect that you have.

“Promise to spam my phone?” He holds out his pinky, his boba eyes upturned at the corners. You can’t help but to smile back, your doe eyes turning into shining moons that no lunar eclipse could rival.

“Promise.”

You turn to look out of the window as the train turns the last bend to your stop. You gasp, a smile spreading over your lips and a plum colored blush adorning your chilled cheeks. 

“Min! Min, it’s snowing. It’s sticking, look!” You tap your best friend, he’s been fiddling with his fingers the entire ride. His usual jokes have been nonexistent this evening, maybe he’s nervous for you. He seemed so worried after all. “I get to spend the first snow with you!” 

You smile over at him, eyes wide like Venus or maybe the moons of Saturn would be a better comparison. No matter the celestial object they could never compare to the shine of your hazel orbs. They are mere specks found in the never ending galaxy of your irises. 

“Maybe this is a sign of good luck.” He grins as his eyes scan the scenery. “Maybe you can make a wish on a snowflake tonight.”

“Look who’s being a hopeless romantic now.” You stick your tongue out at him, squinting your eyes and shaking your head playfully. He huffs a laugh with the crooked smile that he’s known for as he watches you. “Oh! This is us, let's go!”

You grab his hand and pull him out of his seat as you race towards the sliding subway doors. You race up the subway steps, your agile friend trailing behind you quickly with a tight grip on your hand. Once you make it to the top you stop and stare. A thin layer of icy white covers the street and sidewalks. You watch with wide eyes as the slush settles onto the tree branches and falls around you like feathers during a pillow fight. Soft, pretty, comfortable. 

“Are you sure that you want to do this? He could be a creep, ya know.” Minho has asked the same question about fifteen times since the two of you started walking to the train station and your answer has been the same every. Single. Time. 

“I’m positive and if he is, which I doubt that he will be, you’ll be there to do a quick one two jab and save me.” An eye roll and a sigh are all that he offers you as the two of you make your way down the steps to the station. 

“Just… prepare yourself okay? You really don’t know what you’re walking into and I don’t want you to walk out of there with a broken heart.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl, remember?” You take the lead, heading for the turnstile and swiping your MetroCard. You walk through just as you hear the train pull up and turn to Minho with wide eyes of excitement, your heart is still full, he can’t let that be taken away by someone no matter how infatuated you are with them. “It’s here, come on! Run!” 

You run up the metal stairs, the heels of your boots making a song out of each step and Minho follows right behind you, jumping the turnstile and running quickly as he ignores the staff yelling for him to pay. He’s sure that he’ll pay soon, he’ll pay in a currency greater than any atom in his body can handle. 

“There! He said to meet him on the bridge.” You jog towards the attraction that’s always held a special place in your heart. The stunning aged stone and the shining water underneath it made for a beautiful scene. “I don’t see anyone yet though.”

You walk up the slope of the bridge, squinting into the evening darkness. The sun set two hours ago but the lights of the surrounding buildings make up for the stars absence. Despite the orange of the surrounding lights, the air is cold. Your presence is all that makes the atmosphere feel warm. Comfortable.

“Maybe we should just -” You turn to Minho, your fingers laced together across your chest. Your black gloves that are slightly too big slipping up your wrist.

“He’ll be here. He wouldn’t let me down.” Minho sighs, looking over towards the small lake with crisp leaves flowing with each careful ripple that the wind creates. Maybe that’s how this will go, it’ll be smooth like he’s guided by the wind. Certainly he won't shatter the universe in your eyes.

“Y/n.” It was barely a whisper but you heard him. You’re on your toes looking in the other direction when he calls your name but you snap your neck to look up at him. That sparkle in your eyes is so bright. “I’m so sorry.”

“What do you mean?” He can see it, a star dying in real time. What kind of monster would do this?

“When I- It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” The tear that trails down Minho’s cheek is nearly turned to crystal by the cold bite of the winter air. It blows his parted hair as he stares down at you. You’re putting it all together. The stars dimming at a pace that would leave NASA baffled, confused, anxious.

“Minho, stop messing with me.” You smile and for a second he thinks that he can see them come back. For a second he can spot Orion and the big dipper seems to take one last breath but when he looks away, when he squeezes his eyes shut and chokes back a sob, that’s when the lights go out.

Minho’s never seen a shooting star, he’s never seen light fall at such an alarming rate that we call it beautiful and now he wishes that he never had. He hates that the one time that he got to wish upon a falling star was when he broke your heart. 

“When I started sending them I thought that I had more time, I thought that we…”

“It was you?” A tear trails down your cheek as you whisper, your once sparkling eyes are clouded with frost as the snowflakes catch and melt on your lashes. “You knew about every letter, I read them to you, I told you everything but you already knew because you - you wrote them.”

“I had to tell you. I had to tell you how I felt I couldn’t take it anymore; it was eating me alive. It was killing me.” He turns to you, tear stains on both of his blushed cheeks. His eyes are glazed with worry, panic, and so much love. They’re packed with so much adoration that you wonder how you ever missed it in the first place. “Not being with you was killing me. I just - just wanted to tell you and then I got that damned call. If I would've known that I'd get called back to Korea I wouldn't have done this.” 

“How long have you known?” You cross your arms, staring at his chest rather than his face. “You sent twenty-six letters… which one did you send after you found out that you had to leave?”

“Please.”

“Which one?” Your voice is weak, hoarse with sentiment as you hold back the hurricane of emotions in your chest. 

“Seventeen.” 

“Wow.” Your mouth hangs open in a silent cry of disbelief as you turn to look into the distance of the dark park. 

“I should’ve told you, I know that. I should’ve stopped and confessed I shouldn’t have done this to you but - but you looked so happy. You were so in love with being seen and I was so proud of you for finally believing that someone sees you. That’s all that I’ve ever wanted” You scoff, laughing a bit as you blink up towards the sky, welcoming the snowflakes onto your skin, offering them a safe place to melt as you come undone in the night. 

“Did you have to do it like this?” 

“You love Gapstow and I knew it would snow.” You huff, grinning sadly. You turn to face him again, large eyes searching his anxious ones. He can see the wounds that he’s created but of course you make it look beautiful. Of course your wounds bleed constellations, he’d expect nothing less from you. 

“You never cry.” It’s his turn to grin now. 

“You make me do a lot of things that I said I never would.” 

“Like what? Write twenty-six love letters and sneak them into my mailbox?” You chuckle, are your stars coming back?

“Like love. Believe in love enough to give it a chance. Fall in love so hard that I profess my endearment on expensive stationary just so I can see you smile. Even if you didn’t know that you were smiling for me, because of me.”

“Minho…”

“I’m an idiot and I don’t deserve to love you.” His words are rushed as he smiles down at you. They're a sad and pitiful attempt at masking how much he hates himself right now. It's an attempt to hide how much he wishes he could take this all back and call it all a joke just to see you shine like you did a bit ago. “I don’t deserve to have you love me back either.”

“But I do.” Another tear escapes the floodgates behind your eyes and the hurricane in your chest grows stronger. “I do and I have for so long.”

He stares at you with tears falling faster than before, they chase each other down his cheeks and drip off at the edge turning into snowflakes themselves. Maybe he can make a wish on one.

“I don’t want you to love me.” He chokes out as he blinks the tears away.

“It wouldn’t make you leaving hurt any less. I’d just be losing a different version of you.”

“I put every ounce of myself in those letters, as long as you have them you’re never losing me.”

The thread behind your eyes snapped in that moment and it sent your hurricane of emotions free from your chest. You expected for the trees around you to be lifted up into the air. You expected for you and Minho to be whisked away as you twirl like ballerinas in violent gusts of frigid air but it never came. All that visited you were tears as you began sobbing into your hands.

Your oversized glove slipped to your fingertips, holding on desperately just as you were. Minho wasted no time before wrapping you in his arms, you clung to his chest like a sad child on the playground. Whining sobs into his coat as he quietly matched your emotion.

He knew it. He knew he’d pay for this in a way much bigger than him. He knew he’d empty your heart once you found out but he was selfishly in love with you. How could he confess to you like this when he knew he had to leave?

 He should’ve stopped at letter Seventeen.

This fic was also heavily inspired by this photo of the Gapstow Bridge in Manhattans Central Park:

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

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[fuxuannie]

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

[aloesarchives]

Father's Day Special(JJK Oneshot)

Tags/Warning: AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Domesticity, Fluff, Unhinged Crack(Especially near the End), Mention of Balls but not Smut(I promise), JJK OC(but not main X Reader)

Word Count: 5.5k words

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader

Reader Pronouns/Usage: (She/Her), Mama, Mom, Doll, Baby

So I know I'm three days late for Father's Day but I couldn't help but write this out. It's been busy and absolute hell with getting ready for Uni. But by July, things will slow down and I can focus more on getting shit down and stop procrastinating. I hella miss writing, I needa get back into the grove of it.

Also, forgot to mention, this fic was based on a true event. Dramatization was an all time high but loosely based on an interaction I had with my own mom lol

“What do you think Dad wants, Megumi?”

“Honestly, I have no clue. I thought Mom was hard but it’s actually Dad.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because he never buys anything new. Even if he does, it’s either meant for the house or us. Dad still wears the same black t-shirt since we were kids. He doesn’t have expensive taste either. No cologne, no wrist watch, no shoes, nothing.”

Tsumiki and Megumi feel more empathetic to Toji than either right now. Father’s Day is tomorrow and the two are out trying to get their dad a gift. But just like Toji, they feel stuck on what to get him. With you, their mother, it’s more subtle and personalized. Tailored to your taste and personality, seems hard at first but gets easier once getting the smaller details. Is it more on the pricier side? Yes, but you are their mother and do so much for them that you deserve anything and everything good to come your way.

But Toji, he’s a different story.

Growing up, the two saw how laidback their dad was. No putting much effort into keeping appearance or staying with the latest trends. They learned early on that Toji only dresses decently, or at least looks presentable, because of you. Outfit coordination was all on you, you always picked out Toji’s outfit or had the final say on what he’s wearing. Obviously over time, he’s learned the art of dressing himself up but he always asks you for the final say.

Anyhow, clothes are out because Megumi and Tsumiki know Toji wears them until they are rags. He still wears the same basketball shorts around the house since they were babies.

They’re teenagers in high school now.

Toji’s old shirts and shorts just get converted to loungewear and home clothes. Some of them have holes but Toji seems to care less about them. Toji also has no expensive taste or an interest in creating one. He believes you pay for the quality but that’s on certain things like a wrench or drill. He never understood the whole throwing your money to look high class. Pointing out that things can stick out like a nail and look out of place. He grew up in a family with money, he knows.

Then Toji literally has everything he needs. That’s what the kids always hear.

“I have (Y/N), my kids, a nice house with space to work, food, and my equipment. The hell I need anything else when it’s all right ‘ere.”

People’s dreams and aspirations are different. Having a family is a common one many have. But Megumi and Tsumiki could clearly see the fond and tender nature their dad somehow exhibits, and it’s only exclusive to the family. They didn’t think much of it until they asked you. Upon explaining Toji's life up until meeting you, Tsumiki and Megumi finally let it sit why their dad acts the way he does.

“Your Papa…didn’t expect to have this type of life—To have a home, a wife and kids. He’d never imagine himself to get this because he didn’t think it'd happen to him, especially how he grew up. But it did and he never took it for granted since. Your Papa has treated me beyond the means of well over the years, it’s only fair I do the same for him. I’m not forcing you two to follow suit. But at the very least, try to understand your Dad and his circumstances. That’s all I ask of you two.”

With that, no wonder they’ve never met anyone from Toji’s side besides Maki and Mai. That and an explanation to your fierce protectiveness towards Toji at the mention of his “family”. So here Megumi and Tsumiki are, along with their litter sister Mayumi, concocting an idea on what to get Toji. They were going to call you but ditched the idea to not inconvenience you as you were busy yourself. Currently in Shibuya walking in one of the shopping districts, they searched high and low for anything that would make a decent Father’s Day gift.

Tsumiki threw up some ideas but Megumi shot them down because it’s not practical for their Dad.

“Megumi, at this point, we can’t get Papa anything! What do you have in mind that Papa will actually use?”

Megumi thought for a second before shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve got nothing, Tsumiki. I’m drawing a blank here.”

Tsumiki sighs before looking around again. Meanwhile, Mayumi’s curiosity was becoming impulsive. She wanted to look at anything and everything as long as her pretty little eyes laid on it. Holding onto Megumi’s hand, she tries to keep pace with her older siblings in the busy street. However, after walking for a few minutes, Mayumi came to a stop as she stared at one of the stores. Feeling his arm be pulled back, Megumi looks down to see Mayumi staring off.

“Mayumi, what are you looking at?”

Tsumiki also stopped when she noticed her two younger siblings weren’t behind her. Crouching down, she wanted to see what had caught her baby sister’s attention.

“Is there something you want to look at, Mayumi-chan?”

Mayumi looks at Tsumiki before nodding and pointing to the store that has captured her attention. Megumi and Tsumiki look to see that the store that has captured her attention was Uniqlo. Surprisingly enough, this was a clothing store that mostly made up Megumi AND Toji’s wardrobes. Tugging Megumi along, Mayumi walks into the store with a mission. The two look at each other with curiosity, wondering what their little sister was so dead set on finding. They watched as Mayumi’s eyes scanned the racks and shelves, head darting up, down, left, and right. Megumi makes a decision to let go of her hand to see what she’ll do. Upon feeling her hand’s release, Mayumi speed walks away to the Men’s side. Megumi and Tsumiki made haste to not lose sight of her. Now it’s their turn in trying to keep up with her as she continuously searches for what she’s looking for.

Megumi starts to panic when Mayumi seemingly vanishes before him. He swore he only took his eyes off of her for a split second, and now she’s gone. He was close to going into search party mode when he spotted Mayumi standing before one of the shelving displays. Letting himself breath again, he walks over to where she was before picking her up.

“Mayumi, you can’t run off like that! You know you’ll get lost and separated from Tsumiki and I. You have to make sure you can see us close behind before going on your own.” Megumi lightly chastised her. Though, he never could get mad at her no matter what she did.

Mayumi pouts slightly at Megumi, understanding what she did was dangerous.

“Sorry, Gumi-Nii. Didn’t mean to do it to you and Miki-Nee…But! I found Papa’s Father’s Day gift!” Mayumi excitedly exclaims, pointing to the rack.

Megumi looks to see what she means and by then Tsumiki caught up to the two. Tsumiki also follows to see what the two were staring at. The section she was pointing at was the Men’s section for underwear and socks. Tsumiki chuckles while Megumi becomes both confused and a little embarrassed. Mayumi squirms in Megumi’s arms, signaling him to let her down. Once safely on the ground, Mayumi grabs a packet and holds it up to her siblings.

“Mayumi-chan, why do you think this can be a gift for Papa? You think Papa would need this?” Tsumiki gently asks her, hoping to understand what she meant.

Mayumi nods quickly, continuing to hold up the boxer packet.

“Yes! Because Papa needs new ones!”

Tsumiki and Megumi looked at each other surprised before Tsumiki looked back at Mayumi.

“How do you know, Mayumi-chan?”

“Mama said it when she was folding the clothes after drying them! This was when Papa was out with Uncle Shui! She said why does Papa keep wearing his underwear even though they have holes in them. I saw what she was talking about because Papa does have holes in his underwear! So, why not get Papa new underwear?”

Tsumiki found this amusing and a bit funny at Mayumi’s enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Megumi had a furious blush painted across his face. He didn’t expect their shopping trip to go this way. Let alone, the deciding gift was the most plain and not so well-thought out of. Though Megumi felt his embarrassment burn his entire being, he’s not complaining about the gift choice. He knew it was a practical gift for their dad, especially knowing Toji’s track record when it came to clothing.

As strange as it is to admit, Megumi couldn’t deny that a go-to gift to give to any guy is a pack of brand new underwear paired with a fresh pack of socks. He knew there’s nothing you could do wrong with that combination. He even witnessed it firsthand when Yuuji was way too excited when he got a box filled with pairs of socks and boxer briefs for his birthday. And knowing how lax Toji is, Toji probably would like this more than anything. So Megumi stays quiet and lets the girls handle it.

“I think that’s a great idea, Mayumi-chan. We should get some of these for Papa so he doesn’t have to keep wearing his old ones.”

“But I don’t know Papa’s size…Maybe Mama knows! We should call Mama, Miki-Nee!”

Tsumiki nods while pulling out her phone, hitting your contact. The phone buzzed once before your voice was heard on the phone. Mayumi decides to talk on everyone’s behalf and ask for Toji’s underwear size. After a bit, Mayumi hands the phone back to Tsumiki and the two of you talk. Once hanging up, it was settled.

“Gumi-Nee, Mama said Papa only wears black and dark blue boxers! And also said Papa is a size large!”

Since he didn’t want his sisters to look awkward, Megumi took it upon himself to take the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks to check out. The socks were a last minute decision but again, practical for someone like Toji. After Tsumiki gave her half of the total to Megumi, he bought them and left with his sisters. After getting home, Megumi decided it would be best if he kept the gift in his room to not raise any suspicions if Toji had any.

“So, did you three buy your Dad his gift?”

Mayumi runs up to you and fervently nods while pointing at the Uniqlo bag Megumi’s holding. Megumi gives you the receipt for tax purposes and so Toji doesn’t see the price for it as he’ll definitely take it. You grinned while looking at the receipt, something Megumi and Tsumiki believe would be akin to playful or mischievous.

“Nice job, you three. Now, go change and clean up a bit for dinner. Your dad will be home soon.”

Speak of the devil, not even five minutes later, the front door is opened and a gruff “I’m home!” can be heard. Toji was already home. Hearing his voice, Mayumi dashed to where he was and was immediately picked up by him. His iconic DILF chuckle and the giggles of your youngest child can be heard getting closer to the kitchen. Something you never get tired of hearing and hope to hear more of every time.

“Glad to hear you had a good day, Princess. Now go with your sister to change and freshen up.”

Mayumi nods before being put down, dashing towards Tsumiki who then holds her hand as she takes her upstairs.

You were finishing cleaning up the dirty dishes when you felt a warm presence on your back.

“How are you doing, Doll? Looks like you got dinner all figured out, didn’t I tell you my food prep made things easier?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at the feeling of your husband wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Toji wants to be all over you no matter the hour.

“Yeah yeah, don’t let that ego get higher than it already is…But thank you though, Hon. It cuts down cooking time by a lot. I appreciate it.” You tenderly answered before giving him a simple kiss on the cheek.

Wearing a victor’s smile, Toji pulls away. Crossing his arms with his chest all puffed out as his pride builds up.

“If that’s all that takes for some of your kisses, I’ll keep on doing it. Only for you, Doll. Glad it makes things easier for ya.”

Even though it said because of his pride, there was an undeniable softness on his features many would believe was impossible for him to make. But here he was, doing exactly that like it was any normal day at the Fushiguro household. The fondness he exhibits to you is both a blessing and a honor because you knew you were a part of the few people that bring it out of him.

Smiling back, you mirrored your loving softness on your face as well.

“It does, Toji. Now, go change and shower. I don’t know what Shui and you did today but you smell like outside. I don’t want that in our bed so go upstairs and shower, Hon.”

Toji smirks but nods at your command. Taking himself upstairs to wash away the smell. Dinner goes on as normal. Silent but pleasant as it lets everyone decompress from the day. Toji does the dishes since you cooked dinner and the kiddos clean up the kitchen table. Everyone retires into the night without issue and Toji has his arms wrapped around you as you sleep on top of him.

It was 7:30 A.M. when you heard voices coming from downstairs and the slight clanging of metal. You groggily blinked the sleep from your eyes while feeling the sun brightening up your room. Hearing Toji’s faint and calm breathing, you knew he wasn’t waking up anytime soon. After successfully slipping away from Toji’s grasp, you were able to change into your home clothes before going downstairs. Upon reaching the kitchen, the sight before you was a pleasant surprise.

There was Tsumiki and Megumi, wearing aprons, and using the kitchen while Mayumi was drinking her juice from her sippy cup. Albeit very sleepy but that changes when she hears footsteps and sees you walking in with a warm smile on your face.

“Mama! Gumi-Nii and Miki-Nee are making Papa breakfast! I’m here for moral support!” She excitedly whispers to you as you hold her up.

You look over to see your two eldest working away prepping their Father’s Day breakfast. You hum while inspecting their handy work, peering over their shoulder to see.

“It smells good, you two. Though, I’m surprised you’re able to get up at this time, Megumi. Normally, you would sleep in until another two hours or so.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the rice balls he’s making, but his tone is less irritated and tense compared to most mornings.

“Well, I feel bad for letting Tsumiki do all the work in cooking. So I woke up earlier than normal to help out. Plus, Mayumi woke me up and asked me to help Tsumiki make breakfast because she couldn’t.”

Mayumi’s soft giggles were paired with your own. Softly patting his hair, you offer Megumi a grateful smile.

“I’m happy to know you helped out, Dear. Good to back up your sisters.”

You pat Tsumiki's shoulder comfortingly to not let her lose focus on her cooking.

“Call for me if you two need any help.”

The two nod before you make your way upstairs with Mayumi, making your way to your shared bedroom where your husband is sleeping. Mayumi writhes and squirms in your hold, begging to be let down to wake up her Papa. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she quietly and firmly opens the bedroom door. B-lining towards the bed with you following suit. She climbs up onto the bed and crawls to where Toji was sleeping peacefully. Your youngest stares for a few moments at her Papa before gently pounding his chest.

“Papa…Papa…Wake up!”

After a few tries, Toji stirs a bit before blinking slowly. Toji motions his head to face the culprit that woke him up from his restful sleep. Seeing Toji waking up, Mayumi beams down at him along with you softly smiling at the side of the bed.

“G’morning, Papa! Happy Papa Day!”

“Morning to you too, Little Lady~.”

He takes Mayumi in his arms while steadily sitting up. Her sweet sequels and giggles echo throughout the bedroom as Toji kisses all over her face and tickles her sides. Grinning down at his youngest daughter, he carries it when his eyes meet yours.

“Morning, Beautiful~.”

The morning rasp and gruffness in his voice made you want to scream at the sky while death-gripping the ground below. You desperately thanked any and all divine pantheons for blessing you with such a man. But alas, you couldn’t allow yourself to fold so easily. Especially in front of Toji, knowing you’ll never see the end of his teasing and salacious, but consensual, advances. You just light-heartedly roll your eyes while shaking your head, but your smile never ceases.

“Good Morning to you too, Handsome~. Happy Father’s Day. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”

Toji temporarily sets down Mayumi as you pass him a shirt to wear since he was wearing his gray sweat shorts. He picks up Mayumi again before making his way out and into the kitchen to satiate his morning hunger. Just like you, he reacted with surprise seeing a fully set table before him. But this is Toji we’re talking about. So the most we’ll get out of his reaction is his eyes which went wide.

He was about to ask if you made all the food as you passed by but you tilt your head to the side and he sees Megumi and Tsumiki cleaning up the kitchen.

“They helped you with making breakfast, Doll?”

You shake your head while taking Mayumi in your arms to place her in her chair.

“I didn’t even touch the kitchen this morning. They were in here this whole time.”

Sitting down, it finally clicked with Toji. He just grinned as he took his usual seat at the edge of the table. Once everyone was seated and began eating, so did he. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type. But he couldn’t help himself in allowing this particular feeling to wash over him. If he went back in time to tell his younger-self that he’d become a husband and a father of three kids, he most certainly knew his past-self would scoff and think he’s a liar. Toji won’t lie because he has a hard time believing it himself sometimes. Even after almost two decades of being married to you and 15 years of being a father, he’s in awe of how his life ended up to the present day.

Sneaking glance as he eats, he sees his two oldest kids having their usual sibling conversation. 16 and 15 years old, first and second years in high school. It would only be a few years until they would graduate high school.

‘Geez, they’ll be legal adults in less than five years…Fucking shit, man…’

Toji then sneaks glances at you, which he sometimes catches your gaze as well. There was a certain feeling of your smile every time you sent it his way. But it was not until he reminded himself that your particular smile you always gave him was of contentment. But not in a sense of bare minimum, no. Toji knew it came from utter satisfaction and gratification in this domestic life you two shared.

No, the life you two created together for each other.

Watching you interact with your children just fills him with life’s satisfaction. He thought it was impossible for someone like him to experience something like this. But here he is, sitting down eating breakfast with his family in their home on a Sunday morning. Damn, he didn’t blame you for giving him that smile because he gets it.

After eating and cleaning up the table, Megumi said he forgot something in his room and went upstairs to get it. Meanwhile, Toji was reading the morning paper while simultaneously listening to the news that was live on the tv. Mayumi was chilling in Toji’s lap with her Cinnamoroll plushie because she had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, you were teaching Tsumiki how to use the coffee machine and the set up for Toji’s usual.

Once Megumi came back with the familiar Uniqlo bag, everyone shifted their attention to Toji and gathered around him. He looked confused by the sudden change in behavior. Placing his paper down, he suspiciously eyes everyone.

“Okay, something’s up. Did I do something I don't know about?”

You shake your head at him, making it clear he wasn’t in trouble. Mayumi jumps off Toji’s lap, pattering over to Megumi who hands over the bag. She races back to her papa with an eager smile on her face, holding the bag up to him.

“Oh, what’s this, Princess?”

“It’s from Me, Gumi-Nii, and Miki-Nee! We got you a present for Papa Day!”

Feeling both astounded and touched, he takes the bag from her before ruffling her hair. Mayumi lets out a little squeal before running towards Tsumiki who picks her up. The bag was small, specifically eight inches by six inches. But what’s inside filled the bag up to its capacity so Toji was intrigued to see what his kiddos got him. He shakes the bag for good measure, causing Megumi to become impatient.

“Dad, just open it up. I promise you we didn’t put a spider or a cockroach in there. This is your real gift from us.”

The man chuckles out loud, shooting a grin his son’s way which made his impatient grow.

“Alright alright, I hear you, Megs. I was seeing if I could guess what you bought for me. Nothing wrong with checking things out. Reel yourself in kid.”

Megumi groans out causing his sisters and you to giggle at this usual interaction. Eventually, Toji opens the gift and reaches inside. His eyebrows furrowed and pushed themselves together, trying to figure out what he was touching. Suddenly, his brows released themselves from being tensed as he pulled out the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks. It was silent, a little too silent. For a second, Megumi and Tsumiki held their breaths while you anticipated his reaction.

Then, out of nowhere, a hearty laughter filled the kitchen as Toji held them in his hand. Amusement was all he felt looking at the packs in front of him. He let out a content huff, holding up one of the boxer packs.

“Wow, this is how you give gifts. You guys are just like your mama, you all have gifting skills people dream of.”

“Wait, you actually like it, Papa?”

Toji let a bemused look pass over him before it went back to amuse.

“Oh yeah, I sure as hell love it. I keep forgetting to buy some and your mother has been on me for God knows how long about getting new ones. You rascals killed two birds with one stone for me. And socks too? Now that’s being generous to your old man.”

The two were finally able to breathe since they second guessed themselves.

“Happy Father’s Day, Papa!”

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”

Toji gets up to give Megumi and Tsumiki his love squeezes. Tsumiki giggled while Megumi begrudgingly accepted his dad’s affection. Though, he doesn’t resist or push away when his dad hugs him.

As this was happening, you wore a grin that stretched wide with eyes that shone with mischief. Toji catches your expression, fully knowing something is brewing inside.

“Babe, you’re making that face. Spill it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hon~.”

Oh, there’s definitely something now and Toji’s gonna get it out of you.

“Don’t be so coy, (Y/N). You got that grin plastered on your face and eyeing me like that, you got something to say. I see those little gears in your pretty head of yours moving.”

You were trying to hold in your laughter. Key word was try though. The moment you made your thoughts be known will cause endless oxygen-depriving laughter from you. But you needed to say it in full. No stutters, no mistakes, no slang, dead set on getting those words out. You can’t fumble yourself right now.

“I’m just saying, I have been telling you to get new ones for years! Some of your underwear have holes in them! You have to get new ones every five to seven years, Hon!”

He playfully scoffs.

“Doll, just because they’re old doesn’t mean I need to throw them away after a few years. If they can still do their job in covering up my junk, I don’t see why I need to get new ones. I only needed to know one because of you.”

Sighing exasperatedly, you still held your grin and waited for the right moment to strike.

“Hon, you don’t understand. I’m not saying you need to buy new ones after a while! I’m saying some, as in most, of your underwear are worn down to the bone! You have to put them down, Toji!”

“Babe, again, if it still works, it still works. Yeah, some of my underwear have holes in them but they’re still wearable. Not my fault they have holes in them! Plus, I never wear tight-fitted pants, so I don’t get how my underwear chafes when I wear joggers, sweats, and cargo pants!”

Bingo, everything is in position and there’s a clear pathway. You can’t mess this up when you have a clear shot. Crossing your arms still grinning, you stare down your husband.

“Oh but it is, Toji! The reason why you got holes in your underwear is because your balls are rough! If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be breathing down your neck about them. Don’t you even notice when you fold the laundry?”

For a few moments, the silence fell over the Fushiguro house. Toji was bewildered, taken aback by what you said. You were one to never be crass in front of the kids or in general. Thus, this was the closest thing to you being vulgar.

For the teens, they stood still and frozen in place. However, for different reasons. For Tsumiki, she was stunned. Heavily skilled in the art of not being or feeling awkward. She’s not bothered or offended by your words. Rather, she didn't expect you to say something like that when they’re around. She knew it was bound to happen, just not with this conversation and those words. For Megumi, he was straight up flabbergasted. Never in a million years would he hear something like come out of you. Given, you’re known to have sufficient self-control when it comes to speaking in such a manner. Reserving that language for anyone 18 and over, and their dad. Right now, he’s growing frustrated because now he knows what people mean with you and Toji’s marriage has top tier chemistry. Megumi slowly realizes that both his parents are rat bastards and of equal humor. Noting that you were better at keeping it under wraps while his dad bore no filter at all. Meanwhile, Mayumi was just existing and cuddling her plushie. Becoming oblivious to the whole matter as her toddler brain couldn’t comprehend the words being used. But it was a good thing, much to both Megumi and Tsumiki relief.

“Did Mom just—?”

“Say what I think she said…?”

With their minds broken, the two were trying to process what just happened. You said it, made it be known. Something that probably should be said when they’re not present or only with their dad. Thinking about how you said them too: saying them with your chest, locked-in, hyper-focused, 10 toes down on the ground, no stuttering whatsoever. It looked like you were thinking about this for a long time and needed to get it off your chest.

To which you did, and successfully as well.

Just when the teens thought they were in the clear, they were thrown another curb ball. This time, it was from Toji.

“Doll, why are you complaining about them now? You never did beforehand, how do you think I gave you Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi? You took them and everything else. I’m not letting you throw me under the bus like this.”

Silence came back as soon as it left. If the two thought your words were absurd, their dad’s beat it and took your place with his own. Now Megumi’s petrified because he didn’t know what else would come out of either his mom or dad’s mouth. Fearing the embarrassment and possible vulgarity to over take what the two of you said prior. He didn’t want to hear nor wanted to know anymore. Just when he was about to drag his sisters away to leave you and Toji to your own devices, he sensed something that made him stay.

All at once, the silence was broken by you and Toji bursting out in laughter. You were holding onto his shoulders, gasping for more air to put in body but it was futile as you continued laughing even harder. Toji has his arms crossed but his sturdy broad frame shakes as he can’t restrain his uncontrollable laughter. The kids watch on, once again thinking this was finally done.

But the next thing they knew, they felt a gust of air pass by them followed with another. In a turn of events, you were being chased by Toji throughout the Fushiguro Estate. Yet, your laughter and squeals that were accompanied by your husband’s playful threats made it known this was all fun and games for you.

It went on like this for several minutes. Your two teens would’ve cringed but let it pass over when they noticed Toji carrying you over his shoulder from the house towards the large Saucer Magnolia tree in the garden. Plopping himself on the grass with you in his lap, arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Now, Doll, where’s your present for me? I don’t see it.” Toji says, feigning hurt as he whines fakingly.

You roll your eyes at his performance. Though, instead of a grin, a smile was all that was left. Highlighting the blissful expression you wore.

“I know you, Toji. You just want me to baby and give you all my attention.” You huffed lightly.

“Yeah yeah, but you’re still gonna give it to me. You won’t deny me, Baby.”

Shaking your head, you let yourself be at your husband’s mercy. Indulging himself in your warmth in presence. It was a peaceful moment until you heard a little giggling coming closer. Both of you look up to see Mayumi running this way followed by Megumi and Tsumiki who held a blanket to be laid on.

Toji unravels one arm to catch his youngest and sits her on his free thigh across from you. You never noticed until now how beautiful and relaxed Toji is. While he was known for his laid back personality, you knew it’s from not wasting his energy on matters that don’t concern him. The reality was, Toji used to be tense and rigid. Forcing to stay on guard whilst putting on that lax facade. It wasn’t until he met and married you was when his stiffness and strained body began to disappear from his body. He was relaxing, loosening himself up because of you.

Although your shared life with him wasn’t easy and had its share of hardships, you felt honored Toji allowed himself to rest and find comfort in you. To see him finally have a sense of peacefulness after knowing what he’s been through, you only wish to love, care. and protect him for as long as you’re on this plane of existence.

Seeing how much contentment he has in interacting with his children and you, he was undeniably beautiful and sublime both physically and mentally. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you immerse in the loving family atmosphere you’re grateful to be a part of. Mayumi rambling and talking Toji’s ear off while your husband entertains her. Meanwhile, you watch your two older children talk and spill the gossip in their school lives to each other.

You wallowed in this domestic bliss, savoring it as there will be nothing else like it. You’re not the only one as Toji joins in basking in this domestic bliss as well. He would never say this out loud, but he didn’t think he’d live this long. He thought he’d died young due to his reckless and careless behavior, getting himself into deep shit that would ultimately be his grave. The voice in his mind reminds him that this may be a one time thing, that he’ll never get this in the next life. But he pushes that thought away to deal with it later. For now, he’ll be present here with you as you both happily entertain your little Mayumi and her current interest.

As for Megumi and Tsumiki, they can rest easy knowing they won’t have to hear you or Toji saying those appalling words again anytime soon.

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Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!

This is a response to this anon request: Hii can i request wind breaker boys : bofurin and shishitoren with a reader that love to flirt and hard to flustered although they tried to do it back? Thank you

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for being my first Wind Breaker request! I feel like we were on the same wavelength because I was planning on doing a flirt fic/headcanon, but you beat me to it! Unshy and bold is how I like to write my readers, too!

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Characters. Not smut but highly suggestive in some parts. Use of the word slut in the beginning background piece, a brief examination of the word and scenarios in which it’s weaponized. If you’re not into that, feel free to skip that part. But I’ve seen what some of you all are into and seen some of those reblogs—you know who you are, so spare me. You’re also a major flirt. Like, you’re at a 10 on the flirt scale. Go, you! Nothing too explicit, but here’s what we’re working with: mention of panties in Sakura’s. Kaji needs to learn to keep items inside of his mouth…unless? Suo intends to punish you so pick a god and pray. Hiragi needs you to chill out…but say more, please. Umemiya is too shy to ask you to call him Daddy (please call him Daddy). Togame tells you what you’ll be sitting on by the end of the night (also mention of alcohol in his). Nirei is a cute little bean <3. Minors Don’t Interact.

As always, I appreciate comments, reblogs, and likes. Requests are as open as my legs are for Haruka Sakura’s dick.

Word Count: 2.8K

Dividers by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Background: How You Got Here

You’ve always hated the word ‘slut’

It’s not that you wouldn’t personally consider yourself one. Depending on your ideologies, reclaiming the word can feel liberating and you find that to be true for yourself. 

You consider yourself to be naturally flirty, sexy, bold, and charismatic. You can also be a bit of a tease and have slut-like-tendancies in the bedroom, so, sure, a slut. And for the right person or people, if you’re feelin’ nasty, you’re willing to be whatever they want you to be. 

You’ve just grown to hate the word because slut is often used to mischaracterize a woman that men often can’t understand. 

They can’t, or choose not to, understand a woman who is vocal about who she wants and how she wants it. 

They call women sluts who do the chasing.

They call women sluts who fuck on the first date. 

They call women sluts who don’t fuck on the first date. 

The word slut has lost all meaning.

Patriarchy issues aside, this wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t also have a mouth on you. So when some low-life-loser cat calls you from across the street, asking if you got a man and then calling you a slut because you chose not to answer in front of his five loser friends, you turn around and yell, “Sorry, buddy! Experiencing disappointing sexual experiences isn’t on my bingo card for tonight!”

“What the FUCK did you just say to me?”

And contrary to what some may say, you aren’t fucking stupid. You know what happens to women when a man hates them and decides that you’re the object of their rage.

So, you often find yourself running in situations like this. Running until your lungs are about to explode and the only thing keeping you going is adrenaline and the fear that that word—and your mouth—might get you snuffed out. 

You’re looking over your shoulder as your assailants close the distance, painfully aware that this can’t go on for too much longer when you collide with someone’s chest. Strong hands grip your arms, anchoring you in place. 

You look up, expecting to see one of the men from the group but you’re instead taken aback by the stranger in front of you. He seems like the kind of boy you’d let call you a slut—-his close-mouthed smile disarms you, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you’re almost certain he’s someone you can trust. You don’t have too many options right now, anyway!

His tassel earrings swing as he raises his head from looking down at you, and his eyes follow the sound of running feet emerging from the alley. 

“Oh? You look like you could use some help. Stand over there for me?” He tilts his head when asking you the question, but part of you feels like he’s not really asking, so you nod and watch with bated breath as the young man methodically mows down every one of the men. 

Afterward, he turns to you, pristine and perfect, “I can’t let you walk home alone after that.”

“Sure,” you say, taking his outstretched hand. What’s your name? I have to know the name of the person who just saved me.”

“Oh, I guess that’s a fair point. My name is Hayato Suo. It’s nice to meet you despite the circumstances.”

It’s not long after that event that you fall into the protection of the Bofurin & Shishitoren men; your natural charisma quickly gets you in their good graces and earns you a special spot among their ranks. You give off mascot vibes—if mascots were cute and didn’t have gigantic, scary bodies!

Hanging out with them means being yourself without experiencing judgment or retribution. Your laid-back persona and flirting are met with laughs, blushes, and even sometimes flirtation in return. You’ve never felt more at home than with them. 

Haruka Sakura

Flirting with Haruka Sakura is like flirting with a brick wall; either he notices and chooses to ignore the situation as his face turns a crimson red, or he’ll yell at you for being a pervert in public. And both of those reactions are equally cute, so when one day you’re sitting at a booth at Cafe Pothos—-with Sakura, Suo & Nirei—-you decide that this is the perfect environment to get him riled up.

You gently knock your shoe against Sakura’s, which earns you an eyebrow twitch as he continues to shovel food into his mouth. Oblivious as always. 

You do it again to prove that it wasn’t an accidental nudge. Sakura’s eyes shoot up to yours, frantic because this is something you would do. His eyes are met with your innocent smile and subtle shoulder shrug.

As you all continue eating (excluding Suo, who enjoys a cup of tea), you gradually move your foot up his leg until it rests between his thighs. Sakura is trembling like a leaf, eyes darting between the faces of your friends, who could very well notice that you’re trying to get him to play footsie under the table. What if they notice? 

The meal concludes; Suo and Nirei exit the restaurant, and you and Sakura linger for a bit. Part of you hopes that he’ll call out your behavior, but he’s doing his best eye-avoidant routine. As you rise to leave, Sakura stops you, grabbing you by the hem of your sleeve and pushing you into the last booth at the back of the restaurant, where the line of sight is blocked.

Sakura climbs on top of you, your bodies crammed into the leather booths in a way that feels deliciously intimate. His hands are holding your arms at your sides, and his knee settles in between your thighs—and you are now more than ever painfully aware of how high your skirt has bunched up as his knee is dangerously close to brushing up against the seat of your panties. 

“Y-you can’t control yourself in public, can you!?” Sakura practically spits out. He’d sound angry to anyone else, but that’s not what you see in his eyes. 

You look up at him, mesmerized by his vulnerability and the proximity of his well-placed knee. "Do you want me to stop, Haruka?”

He again avoids eye contact with you, but the way he bites his lip gives him away, “No, I-i didn’t say that.”

Akihiko Nirei 

“Have you added anyone else to that book of yours, Nirei?”

Nirei beams at you. You’re one of the few people who takes an interest in the compendium of facts and stats he’s collected about the others. He flips through the pages and starts pointing out information he’s added since you’ve last spoken.

You nod along, taking a genuine interest in what he says; you barely notice your hand moving up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks tinge pink, and he stutters as he continues to read to you.

After he’s done hyper-fixating, a comfortable silence sits between you.

“What do you have about me?” you say, leaning closer to him. You’re teasing him; you don’t exchange blows like the subjects in his journals, so there’s no practical reason for him to collect information on you. That’s what you think until he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a small notebook with your name on the front. 

“I-i uh have the basic demographics, but uh…still need the more personal things like your favorite color and food.”

“What about my bra size?”

“B-bra….” The pencil in his hand snaps, and he looks everywhere but at you. “I uh… s-sure! I’ll take that if you’d like me to!”

You laugh; you genuinely find him endearing. “I’m kidding! We haven’t even had our first date yet, Nirei!”

He looks at you, pulling out a new pencil from seemingly nowhere. “Well, once I find out what food you like, I’ll add the anniversary date of our first date here, too.”

Ren Kaji

Flirting with Kaji feels dangerous, but you do you, friend. You, as an individual, and the way compliments flow easily from your lips makes Kaji uncomfortable, and he admittedly doesn’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you gives him the time of day. It isn’t until you somehow become closer that the absence of your flirting with him sets off blaring alarm bells. 

Are you ok? 

Who did this to you?  

Who does he have to kill?!

As you thumb through the vinyl at your local record store, you feel a bump against your shoulder. You look up and see your favorite platinum blond guard dog; his headphones are settled around his neck, heavy metal pouring from the earphones. His piercing gaze is a clear indication that you might be in trouble. Oops. 

“You mad at me or somethin’?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Mad? Why do you think that?”

“You haven’t been pestering me lately, and it feels…odd.”

You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, even with the round sucker placed snugly in his mouth. 

“Ohhhhhh, no, Kaji! I was giving you a break, but if you insist on flirting, how about-”

“Shut up,” he pulls the sucker out of his mouth and presses it against your lips, watching as you purse your glossed lips and kiss the candy. Neither of you breaks eye contact; an unspoken threat between you dares the other to yield first. His eyes narrow as you poke your tongue out and stroke the sides with intentional, slow licks.

“Tch!” he turns quickly, marching away from you. Despite his back being turned, you can tell by the way his arm raises that he’s now placing that saliva-soaked sucker in his mouth. 

Hayato Suo 

Suo might be one of two people on this list who might be a worthy opponent for you. How do you flirt with someone who is perpetually unbothered? Good question! I see your flirting as back-and-forth quips, playful jabs at one another that get increasingly sexual and oddly specific throughout the day.

If you meet up with the group and one strand of your hair is out of place, Suo chirps, “Bedhead, huh? What were YOU doing last night?”

If you see Suo break a sweat after an intense fight, “Wow, Suo! You really need to work on your stamina. I can imagine a few ways to help with that.”

Sure, it’s all in good fun, but there’s a sexual undertone to it all; between the smiles and sarcastic comments, you’re both participating in your special version of foreplay, and you have never been more turned on. 

Everyone around you thinks you should get a room, and as sunset approaches, you two do exactly that.

“Ready to work on that stamina, Suo?” you chide as you push him against the wall in your apartment. You know you’ll pay for man-handling him later, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

His earrings sway back and forth from the force, but he gazes down at you with smoldering ruby-toned eyes. Every smart-mouthed remark you’ve said that day replays in his head, contributing to his desire to make you atone for your brattiness.

“Yes, Y/N and I promise I won’t let you out of bed with your hair a mess like I did this morning.”

Hajime Umemiya

The complexity of Hajime Umemiya should be a case study. You’ve witnessed his laid-back nature as he jokes with friends, and you’ve seen the scary side of him that bubbles over when anyone threatens those he’s closest to. 

You’re truly attracted to both sides, but when it comes to you and the way you tease him, running manicured nails through his gelled hair and scratching gently at his scalp, he’s putty in your hands.

One of your favorite ways to experience Umemiya is meeting him in his element: his garden. It allows you to bond with him, and he often shares information about his life. Somewhere, Sugishita is biting his fist. 

“Big brother,” you whine as you plant okra, “am I doing this right?”

Umemiya’s eyes widen, and he looks at you across the garden. In what feels like seconds, he’s kneeling in front of you, your hands cupped in his own. “Y-you can’t call me that!”

You blink, confused, “you tell everyone to call you that.”

“I don’t want YOU to call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird when someone you…like…calls you big brother. It’s worse than being called a friend!”

You snort, but when you meet his eyes, you quickly straighten. Oh! He’s serious! 

“So, not into me calling you big brother even during our ‘private moments?’ What about ‘Daddy?’ How do you feel about that?”

He laughs loudly—not because he thinks that was especially hilarious—but because you just make him nervous. 

“You can call me Hajime or…’my boyfriend?’ Yeah, let's stick with my boyfriend!”

“Not Daddy?”

“I won’t stop you! Now, how about that okra???”

Toma Hiragi

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Hiragi’s simultaneously rubbing a knot out of his neck while chastising you. You found yourself in an all too familiar situation, running errands when a drunken man approached you and began to hurl “that word” in your direction when he didn’t find your reaction to his advances to be appropriate: same shit, different day.

As you were looking for an escape route, Hiragi rounded the corner and snatched the man by the collar—it was almost comical to see the drunkard's feet dangle feverishly off the ground. With a scowl and a threat from Hiragi, he was stumbling off.

You sigh, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Hiragi. But something on my forehead must read, ‘fuck with me’ because this is becoming a common occurrence.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbles, “I just find myself worrying about you too much. Might give you my jacket to keep these creeps at bay.” 

Before the last syllable leaves his lips, he’s stuttering and trying to walk the statement back, “I mean uh…or any Bofurin jacket! We have boxes of these somewhere! Not mine, per se.”

You smile, placing a hand on his toned bicep. “I’d love to wear my protector's jacket.”

You need not say more. He removes his oversized jacket and places it over your shoulders. The smell of him and the warmth he left behind makes your heart flutter. You give him your best grin, “you know you’re never getting this back, right?”

“See? A pain in my ass. With a mouth like that, I’m goin’ to have to teach you how to fight.” 

You lean into his arm, “With a mouth like this, you might have to teach me more than how to fight.”

“Jesus.”

Jo Togame 

Jo Togame is the other person on this list who’ll give you a run for your money when trying to flirt. He may seem turtle-adjacent, but his rebuttals to your flirtation attempts are quick. 

You’ve been shooting Togame smoldering glances for the entirety of the night, and even though Shishitoren men surround him, he’ll catch you looking, give you a lopsided grin, and then turn his attention back to the group,

You lick your lips. The draw of his signature sweatpants, black, loose-fitting tee, and Shishitoren jacket is doing something to you. 

And maybe it’s because you’re on your fifth shot of mystery concoction, and the music they’re playing at the house party makes you feel bold and think that what you’re about to do is a good idea. 

With all the courage you can muster, you walk up to Togame. He tilts his head in your direction, but you can see amusement in his jade-colored eyes.

“Took you long enough. Thought you were never gonna get tired of starin’ at me.”

“Dance with me!” you yell over the music. You can feel everyone in the group sizing you up and waiting to hear how Togame responds. 

He puts his beer down and takes your hand. You pull him to the center of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been constructed. You allow the music to move you before you can talk yourself out of whatever is happening. Togame puts his hand on your waist and allows you to grind against him and to the beat. 

“You like the idea of making me nervous, huh?”

You stand on the tips of your toes to get as close to his ear as possible, “You caught me! Is it working?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No because I know exactly how this night is going to end.”

Your heart picks up a bit as his hands slide down from your waist and rest above your ass.

“How?” You squeak.

“With you grinding just like this on my dick.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he presses his lips against yours, his kiss hot and hungry. 

Your eyes flutter closed, and you agree that this night will likely end how he prophesized.