#I just like did a lot today and it all piled up and I’ve been calling everyone by the wrong name these last few days but I could’ve picked a
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Went mad today, yelled at everyone, cleaned manically, accidentally deadnamed my little brother in the post-cleaning fugue state and felt like the worst person ever
#it was a slip influenced by my parents’ bad habit of using the wrong name and I immediately felt horrible#but he was like it’s okay you’re tired and stressed out and you didn’t mean to#but it’s going to haunt me a little bit probably#I just like did a lot today and it all piled up and I’ve been calling everyone by the wrong name these last few days but I could’ve picked a#better wrong name like NOT THAT ONE#unfortunately my brain keeps soft rebooting when the stress and fatigue gets too much and mistakes occur
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Alexia with the new Cupra picture is giving me ✨sugar mommy who spoils you in every way✨ vibes
(fic?)
Spoilt Princess
Thank you for the prompt anon!
Warning - smut 18
“How does it look, amor?”
You fixed your hair in the changing room mirror, trying on the 100th dress of the day.
“Good, I like it.” You smoothed down the edges of the short red dress.
“Show me, princesà.”
You smiled at the nickname. Alexia did well and truly treat you like a princess. The Spainard loved to spoil you. Just like she was doing now, she’d spoil you on any occasion she could. From buying you the newest pair of Nikes, to flying you abroad to a five star resort. The girl never let you go without. If you wanted it, you had it. You wasn’t a brat about it, well, sometimes, but Alexia would fuck that out of you very quickly.
You pulled the thick curtain open, Alexia was sitting in the plush velvet chair in the corner of the private fitting room. A number of high end branded shopping bags sat at her feet, the majority of them being yours. All purchased by Alexia, of course.
You couldn’t stop the shy smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth as you watched her piercing hazel eyes snake down your body.
“Do you like it?” You asked.
It was a pointless question really, of course Alexia liked it, she was the one that picked it out. The short dress showed off all her favourite parts of you. From the swell of your breast, to the firmness of your thighs and to the most important, the curve of your arse. Her most favourite part.
“Turn around, let me see you.” The Spaniard commanded.
You smiled as you turned around for the blonde, making sure to wiggle your arse as you did.
Alexia bit her bottom lip as she took you in, you looked good, she loved you in anything red and this dress was doing wonders. It fit you like a glove, like it had been especially made for you. That being said, you had countless dresses that she had got especially tailored for you, but it never hurt to have more.
“I love it, amor.” She smiled a genuine smile at you.
“Let’s add it to the pile.” You winked.
“Sí. Did you want anything else? What about those heels you were looking at or those earrings you spoke about?”
“No, I think you’ve spoiled me enough today, Ale.” You chuckled softly.
She tutted, her calm face scrunched into a cute frown.
“It’s not true. I’ve hardly got you anything. And they would look good with this dress, no?”
You smiled at her little pout. It wasnt a secret that Alexia loved fucking you in heels, it was her thing. Something you had worked out very quickly into your relationship, the girl would always leave the item of clothing last when stripping you. Sometimes never taking them off at all.
You walked over to the blonde, shaking your head as you laughed at her pout. You bent down between her already spread legs, holding onto her thighs for balance. Her eyes followed you, dropping to the now very revealing angle of your cleavage.
“Ale, baby you’ve got me a lot today.”
The blonde rolled her eyes, she cupped your chin with her hands, tilting your head higher.
“But I haven't, cariño. It's been a while since I got to spoil you.”
That was a lie, she had only bought you a new camera last week, just because you said you were thinking of doing a photography class. And she didn't go cheap, she bought you a camera that even the most professional photographer would envy.
“Ale, baby, you know I don’t need it.”
She kept her hand on your chin, she moved closer to you, her lips now inches from yours.
“But I want you to have them. At least pick one.” She whispered softly against your lips.
You felt your body tingle from the simple gesture, and other things may have tingled.
“Hmm, the heels.” You smiled widely. You moved forward, closing the gap between you. “Thank you.”
Alexia hummed against your lips, inhaling as she felt your tongue glide against her lips.
You pulled back, winking at her as you stood up from the familiar position. You looked at yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder.
“I guess you're right, they were really nice.” You smiled in the mirror.
“Sí, they will. They will go with most of your dresses.” The blonde nodded.
“Hmm, or nothing at all.” You looked over at the girl whose cheeks turned a shade of pink.
“Sí, or nothing at all.” She chuckled softly at you. She stood up from her chair, you watched her in the mirror as she approached you from behind, she put her two large hands around your waist, pulling you into her front. She laid her chin on your shoulder, locking her eyes with yours in the reflection.
“But, I did see a red lace set that would really suit you.”
—-----------
“Princesà? Are you ready?” Alexia called in from the ensuite.
You gloss your lips, finishing off the last touches to your make up in the floor length mirror. You were getting ready for your date night, you had been looking forward to this day for a while, Alexia had somehow gotten a table at a very exclusive and very expensive restaurant.
“Nearly.” You sang out.
She walked into the bedroom where you stood, she smiled when she spotted her new favourite red dress hugging your body. She slowly walked over to you, her eyes fixed on your arse.
“You look beautiful, mí amor.” She pressed her lips against your bare shoulder, making your skin prickle with goosebumps.
“You look beautiful, baby.” You smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
The blonde looked good, she looked like she was ready to command a room full of businessmen. She was fitted in a grey two piece that showed off her muscular arms. Her blonde hair fell down her back, with her silver hoop earrings hanging off her ears.
“Gràcies, cariño.”
You picked up your silver necklace that Alexia had purchased for you a little while back. It was a simple piece but you loved it, you wore it everywhere. It had her initial attached to it, making you feel like she was always with you.
“Here, let me.” Alexia moved your hair out of the way and clipped the jewellery around your neck.
“Perfect.”
“Nearly perfect. I have something for you.”
She stepped back from you, a mischievous glint sparkled in her beautiful hazel eyes.
“Alexia! Baby, what could you have possibly gotten me?”
She ducked under the bed, grabbing out a small white box. Alexia opened the lid revealing the eye watering priced earrings you had been eyeing up.
“Oh my god! You got them for me? How? When?” Your mouth gaped open in shock.
“I made a call. It wasn’t hard. They were delivered when you were in the shower.” She shrugged.
You jumped up and down like a kid on Christmas, giddy at the thought of Alexia getting you yet another present.
She watched as you put your new earrings on.
“Sit, I’ll help you put your heels on.”
You did as she said, sitting on the end of your shared bed. Alexia kneeled at your feet, holding your ankle as she placed your feet into the strappy heels. You really were her little princess, she made you feel like a real life Cinderella. She slotted the straps into the holes with the most gentle touch.
“Thank you, baby.”
She gave your bare leg a kiss, then another then another, slowly moving up to your thighs. Her mouth melted when she smelt the vanilla scented cream on your skin.
“Ale.” You shakily breathed out.
“Hmm.” She didn’t bother looking up at you, too distracted at your buttery skin.
“Baby, we’ll be late.” You tried to convince her, but you couldn’t even convince yourself.
“Just a little taste, please amor.” She begged as she already started to push your dress up, revealing your new red laced thongs.
You could never say no to Alexia, especially when she was literally begging at your feet, but you knew you were already running late for your reservation. Your eyes closed as her lips started to kiss your lips through your underwear, her warm breath making your legs open more for her. You felt yourself melting for her, wanting so badly to just let her take you, have her way with you, but that fucking table.
She gently pulled your underwear to the side, revealing your sex.
“Tan bonica.” She husked before swiping her tongue through your folds.
“Fuck.” You gasped, you had to hold yourself back from pulling at her hair, you didn't have time for her to fix it again.
She took another slow swipe, running her tongue gently against your folds. You groaned at the electric sparks it sent through your muscles, your body already feeling like it was on fire from her expert touches.
You knew if you didn't stop her now you wouldn't make it out of here tonight, let alone on time for the table.
“Baby, we got to go- fuck!”
Alexia had made it just that bit harder to leave as she wrapped her lips around your clit, sucking your sensitive bud with a precise precision.
Your head tilted back as she suckled on you, you bit your lip trying your hardest to force yourself to stop her. You looked down at the blonde between your legs, she was in her own world of pleasure. You let out a loud sigh, knowing you had to stop, even though you really, really didn't want to.
“Ale, come we have to go.” You groaned at your own words.
Her hazel eyes finally looked up at you, you could see the hesitation in her eyes, she clearly didn't want to stop. She groaned in annoyance, she gave you one last lick before she pulled herself away.
“I regret booking this now.” She mumbled between your legs.
You let out a breathless chuckle. “So do I. But once we’re done we can pick up where we left off. We can even try that new thing you want to do.”
Her eyes lit up at that. “Really?”
You nodded, smiling wickedly at the blonde.
Alexia stood up, picking up your red thongs that were crumpled on the floor.
“I’m keeping a hold of these.” She tucked them into her loose pocket, smiling cheekily at you.
—------------
“Gràcies.” Alexia smiled, placing her card on the receipt tray.
The evening had been amazing, the food was delicious, the atmosphere was calm, the conversation had been flowing and the fingers dancing between your thighs was…mind numbing.
Since the moment you sat down Alexia had taken advantage of the now missing barrier between your legs. Her fingers had been relentless, skating up, down and around your ever growing sensitive lips.
“Alexia.” You whispered, you didn’t once tell her to stop, you didn't want her to. She felt so fucking good.
She had you nearly screaming out in the busy restaurant as her talented fingers circled your swollen clit, she smirked wickedly at you when she felt your essence dripping onto her fingers.
She didn't think to stop when the waiter came over.
“Would you like to see the dessert menu?” The waiter asked.
“No!” You choked out a shout. The waiter looked between you and Alexia, a little confused from the outburst. You eyed the blonde, who kept that calm stupid smile on her face.
“Erm, sorry no.” You cleared your throat. “Just the bill please.” You forced a smile, trying your hardest to hold down the filthy groan that wanted so desperately to escape your throat.
Once Alexia paid the bill you couldn't get out of the place quick enough.
—------------
You waited outside the restaurant as a bell boy brought your car to the front.
The teen boy smiled as he passed over Alexia’s car keys. “Nice car by the way.”
“Gràcies.” Alexia smiled politely, slipping the boy a tip. She nodded her head eyeing the vehicle. “She's a beauty.” She agreed.
It was her new car, her pride and joy. You weren't into cars, you just about knew the different names, but you could appreciate a nice car when you saw one. It was sleek and smart, and Alexia looked fucking good in the drivers seat.
She opened the passenger side door for you, smacking your bum as you climbed into the leather seat.
“Oi!” You laughed as the blonde playfully winked at you. You watched as she waved at the bellboy, before jumping into the driver's side.
Finally, you were on your way home and you couldn't ignore the way your body was thrumming with desire for the blonde next to you. You was dizzy, dizzy with the thought of Alexia fucking you with her big strap. Fucking you until your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, stuttering your words as her hips bucked between your thighs. Making you scream her name-
“Everything okay, amor? You seem a little distracted.” She hummed as she looked over at you, that same smug smile on her face.
You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. You could feel your cunt aching, verging on almost painful.
“You could say that.” You looked out the window, praying all the lights stayed green.
Alexia let out a loud laugh, the laugh that you loved. You looked over at her, her beautiful smile plastered her face.
It only made you want her more.
You unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over so you could easily access Alexia's neck.
“Amor, I’m driving.” Her breath hitched as she felt your tongue glide against her skin.
“I can stop if you want?” You said it as you kissed behind her ear.
“No.” She smirked.
You hummed, smiling as you gently bit her favourite sweet spot. “Thoughts so.” You whispered in her ear, bitting a little harder at the soft skin, causing the Spaniard to let out a small gasp.
You kissed down her neck, moving to her throat. You gently sucked on the vein that you loved, lapping your tongue over the ridge of her skin, you lightly hummed as you felt it beat under your touch.
You brought your right hand to her trousers, easily slipping past the loose band.
“This is not fair.” She looked down between her legs, her breathing quickening as she felt your fingers stroke at her thighs.
You gave out your own smug smile when you felt her hips rock up into your touch.
“I just want to taste.” You whispered, repeating the same words she had said to you.
“W-what? Now?”
You nodded your head, bringing your lips between your teeth.
“Right now. Pull your trousers down for me.”
“God, you can make me do anything, can't you princess?”
You let out a low chuckle, your fingers still teasing at her lips.
She finally stopped at a red light. You couldn't stop the smirk on your face as she clumsily tried to pull her trousers down for you.
“Here baby, let me help. Lift your hips up.” You purred.
Alexia did as you asked, so you were able to slide her loose trousers and thongs down to the top of her knees.
You smiled as you spotted the wet patch. “Is someone a bit wet?”
“How could I not be? You were so good for me in the restaurant, letting me play with you.” She stroked your loose hair back as she moved forward, connecting your lips in a deep kiss, her tongue easily pushing itself into your mouth. She pulled back, smiling devilishly at you.
“My good girl.” She whispered against your lips.
You pushed your hair to one side and moved forward, leaning your head down between Alexia’s spread legs. You connect your lips with her thighs, slowly making your way closer to her sex. The angle wasn't the most comfortable, but you needed the girl.
“Merda. Wait, let me.”
Alexia fiddles with something, allowing her seat to move slightly back, giving you both more room. Her free hand moved into your hair, pushing you back between her legs.
You take the hint and lick through her already wet folds.
“Shit.” She sighs, her fingers flex in your hair.
Her mouth gaped open as she looked down at your head in her lap, she had seen you in this position plenty of times, but being out in public and easily being spotted made the situation just that little more thrilling.
You groan at her familiar taste, it instantly makes your mouth water. You go slow, moving your tongue easily though her essence, smearing her juices around with your tongue. The lights must have turned green as you feel Alexia’s body move above you, good thing the car is an automatic.
You flick your tongue across her swollen clit, her low groans spur you on, you easily wrap your lips around the bundle of nerves and gently stroke the flesh with the tip of your tongue.
“Bebé!” The blondes' lashes flutter in pleasure.
You lifted your head, looking at the pretty pussy in front of you. Alexia was wet, you could see the leather seat underneath getting messy with hers and yours fluids.
You shifted a little, getting yourself more comfortable. You leaned on your knees with your arse in the air. Alexia’s hips twitched, clearly wanting you back on her.
“Amor, please.” Alexia begged.
“I’m right here, baby.” You reassured her, kissing her dripping lips.
Alexia bit her bottom lip as she felt your breath ghost her wet sex, she was trying her hardest to control herself. Your loose hair was flowing down her thighs, tickling her sensitive skin, causing her to shiver.
bobbing up and down as you sucked her into your warm mouth.
The blonde was finding it hard to concentrate, all she could feel was your talented tongue swirling around her clit, drinking her in. She gently began to thrust her hips into your mouth, all while keeping her eyes on the road.
You groaned loudly, loving the way she was slowly losing herself, you could hear her breathing becoming shallow.
Your own clit was still throbbing, you could feel the air hitting the wetness on your lips. You would have loved to have seen yourself right now, being the princess you always was for Alexia.
The blonde came to another red light, she took the opportunity to scoop your hair into her free hand. Having more control of your movements she forced you further down, needing more friction on her clit. She smirked as she watched your head bobbing up and down as you sucked her into your warm mouth.
You whimpered when you felt her touch, trying to move the way she wanted you. She began to slowly fuck you face, pushing her hips harder into your face.
“Sí, Sí, princesà. You’re so good, don’t stop, never stop.” She husked out.
You groaned at the fast movements, you could feel Alexia's clit twitching in your mouth.
“Fuck, baby, I can’t drive and do this.” She let out a low groan.
Alexia took a quick turn down a quiet road, quickly turning off the engine.
She pulled over just in time as her orgasm took over her body. Both her hands grip your hair, moving you to her rhythm.
“Amor. I’m going to come, don’t stop. Keep sucking.” Her head fell back against the seat, her mouth opening as she began to pant. Alexia cried out, screaming your name as her clit pulsated in your mouth.
You didn't stop, you kept your mouth on her until she rode out the final spasm.
Alexia tried to catch her breath, as she stroked your hair back.
“I can’t believe you had me do that.” She let out a breathless chuckle.
You stroked your tongue over her once more, kissing her clit as you moved away. You smiled smugly as you came face to face with the blonde, her hazel eyes completely blown.
“You spoil me in every way.” You winked as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso smut#fcb femení#alexia putellas smut#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#woso x reader#woso imagine
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Heartless Pt.1
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
okay i’ve redirected this fic and made it into a slowburn multi chapter series, in hindsight my last idea was too abrupt. i feel like this storyline is wayyyy better. I LOVEEEE SLOWBURN. i hope ya’ll like this one better! Part 2 up now!
PS. if you don’t like this type of stuff, don’t be stupid and comment on it because I really don’t care enough to hear it, use ur fingers and scroll. it’s not that hard.
You thought your wedding day would've been more romantic than this.
More personal, more involved, a consolidation of the many moments you shared with the man you were going to love forever, but free will and liberation were something that you gave up when your parents decided that it was in your family's entrepreneurial interest to participate in a partnership with the O'Hara Dynasty.
You weren't mad. It was just...different. You knew this day was coming but it was all wrapped together quite nicely, in a neat little bow.
Everything was done with the utmost sensitivity and respect, the O'Hara family's Consigliere placed piles of paperwork in front of you, NDAs were rarely ever necessary, and guns and fists normally did the trick but Miguel personally wanted all of this to be clean. He was getting married for the sole purpose of extending his power and influence, being a part of the 5 Families in this city wasn't something that was done without shedding blood. And Miguel shed a lot. This was a very important occasion to him, marriage was important in all generations of his family, and almost every single Don arranged a marriage with a woman from another Dynasty just for the purpose of spreading influence and agendas. Miguel and his brother talked for hours about it and in the end, he had to do what was necessary for his family and his capos. He needed to conserve what was his whilst also inserting his power.
Dealing with ill-tempered men and being a sounding board for their last scraps of sanity wasn't new but Miguel wasn't that. He was just silent in a way you didn't like. It was almost unsettling. Maybe it would be easier to hate him if he was an asshole, but he was very kind and respectful in the little words he said to you.
All of this was strictly professional, a beautiful show for the underworld. It was ridiculous and you felt like a fool, and after the day you had, it felt perfectly reasonable to feel that way.
It was your wedding day and word got around fast.
The dress he picked was fine.
The ceremony was fine
The ring was fine
Everything was just fine.
Now you were in his cold, lavishly destitute penthouse at an ungodly hour, sitting around, still in the wedding dress that you haven't taken off for some reason- maybe to compensate for the fact that you'll throw it in a corner, leave it in the cold and black dark, collecting dust for you to never see it again. Miguel's capos had to scamper around and follow you just about anywhere but for once, they left you alone with Miguel shooing them out.
Is this what your life would be like? Sitting around, waiting for something to happen? Was everything meant to be so banal and grey?
“You looked lovely today.” A low voice grumbled behind you, you whipped your head around to see Miguel leaving his study and entering the living room, he was still wearing his tux with that unknotted ugly bow tie that was crooked the whole ceremony. He looked tired. You gave him an agreeable smile in response.
"Thank you.” You said politely, there was just nothing purposeful behind your voice. All there was between you and Miguel was agreeable conversation, polite and meaningless drivel to distract from the very true and real fact that you were betrothed, you both owed each other something. Miguel gave you protection and you gave Miguel his pathway to influence- it was a business transaction, that was all, but it didn't mean that all of this wasn't abnormal. “I can't reach the zipper, can you please zip me down?” You asked as if it was a normal question- it wasn't for your kind of relationship but what the hell was normal nowadays? For Christ's sake, you were married to a man you barely knew and you slept in different rooms.
Miguel approached you in silence, watching you stand up from the couch and turn around. He liked the dress, he picked it out himself, you looked nice. His fingers found the zipper and pulled down slowly, watching the slivers of skin appear with every small tug down.
As far as women go, Miguel wasn't really that interested in sleeping around, every woman he shared himself with became a target or an opportunity pry into his head- he didn't want anyone messing with his internal affairs. Sometimes he'd cave and fuck one of the women serving him drinks at private poker nights, they always made eyes at him, begging him with fluttering eyelashes and wet lips to fuck them senseless. He was a man after all, sometimes it was enjoyable, sometimes it wasn't, he just needed to get off.
You on the other hand, you were unreadable in a way that he didn’t know how to approach.Though sometimes he did find you talking to him like an acquaintance vaguely irritating he would definitely be a hypocrite for calling you out.
It felt like you were holding your breath when he was finished, you settled baxk into your senses, he gazed over the patch of skin peeking out of your dress. He stopped his gawking when you turned around and gave him a weak smile like you would a friend or a neighbour. "Thank you. Goodnight Miguel.” You walked passed him and went to your designated room. Miguel did the same
You never really thought of yourself as an incurable romantic, but this was truly dull and you contemporary marriage like this. Even if it was to one of the most dangerous men in the city.
-
You awoke to a cacophony of sizzling and rustling noises coming from outside your room, your dreary eyes lulled by sleep couldn't fight against the delicious smell wafting from outside. Before you could fully register that breakfast was being made, the first thing you noticed was the heavy feeling of dread resting on your chest, you raked a tired hand over your face and rubbed your eyes awake. Opening them up fully, you saw the white fabric on the floor. In another life, the husband you actually loved would be laying next to you, whispering sweet nothings. Your wedding dress and veil were strewn about as if it was an article of clothing a teenage girl would carelessly discard while figuring out what to wear for a date with Tommy or Billy or Jason or whoever. But this wasn't high school drama, this was the type of life you were conditioned into.
Blood, war, and money.
You weren't complaining, the protection it offered you was immense. Miguel was a corrupt man dealing with equally corrupt politicians and people of interest, he had to adapt in his work but a part of you didn't believe he was the poisonous person everyone always made him out to be. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in his raw, primal ways, beating people bloody. That's what made you weary.
You shifted up and headed over to the walk-in wardrobe. This was the part that really stunted you, Miguel wanted you to wear what he specifically liked, everything was picked out by him and you still didn't know how to feel about it, but it made you grimace. You stepped in and glanced at the hangers, they were all ordered out by color and style. You noticed that he seemed to like satin and silk, and he was very particular about color, he liked black, silver, grey and even a baby blushed pink in certain articles. Your fingers grazed over the silk of the nightwear dresses, and the fabric of the gala dresses- you didn't like the idea of having to play pretend in front of too many people. You idled towards the drawers and wondered what he preferred when it came to underwear. You raised a cynical eyebrow and your lips pursed in curiosity as you let your finger pull it open.
Your mouth unhinged in a surprise you expected, but not in the way you thought of. He definitely had a thing for lingerie. God, there was a pair of everything, lacy, strappy, padded, unpadded, sheer garters, sparkly garters, knee highs, thigh highs. He was very particular indeed. It was tailored to your perfect cup size. Fucking hell. He liked Brazilian underwear but he seemed have an affinity for a thong too. You sighed and closed the drawer, you didn't want to read into it. Your eyes wandered to the muted pink silk robe hanging next to the drawer. Hm. That'll do for breakfast.
Miguel looked up from his newspaper to see you padding barefoot to the table where a spread was laid out. His maid, although young, ditzy and so obviously desperate to fuck him, was a very talented cook but the coffee she made always tasted like dirt. “Thank you.” He said to her plainly, he couldn't even look at her due to him being distracted by your presence. Your face creased into a light frown as you stared at the eye candy handing Miguel his coffee before she left as Miguel waved his hand. Of course the women who worked around him had to be insanely beautiful.
“Good morning.” Miguel grumbled before taking a sip. You were wearing the silk robe he liked. Good. Good girl.
You didn't say anything back, acting aloof and nonchalant seemed to be the only way of conserving whatever sanity you had left. The back of your throat had back drool when you stared at the delicious spread in front of you. You didn't know what you wanted to eat first. You grabbed a few pickings of everything, topped off with a mimosa. You ate in polite silence, minding your business, uninterested in anything he had to say at this point. Miguel settled down his newspaper and glared at you, you weren't particularly bothered by his presence, and that made him...unsettled. It went on like this for a solid few minutes.
“What?” You asked him, not even giving him the decency of looking him in the eye. Miguel was silent for a moment, contemplating your presence before he opened his mouth.
“We're leaving the city tonight.” He said oh so casually in that deep, low voice of his.
"And why is that?”You sighed tiredly, a slightly amused smirk twitched at your lips at this out-of-the-blue statement.
Miguel clicked his tongue and cooed at you, “Because cariño, my Consigliere has informed me that our marriage is not boding well with the other 5 Families, they think it's a covert attack in some sort of way, a questioning of power or sorts. And also..” He cut himself off for a reason unknown to him. “He also thinks it's a prudent idea to have a honeymoon, to hone everything in and make this...real.” He murmured as he rolled up his shirt sleeve.
Your eyes pricked up at the word 'real.' Wasn't this real? The papers were real. The ring was real. But the actual connection…? You glowered at him, your eyes narrowed.
“Do you think this is real?”
Miguel didn't know how to answer that. “Isn't real relative?”
“No.” You replied thickly like you didn't even need to think about it.
“Look. I don't want to discuss this.”
“So you can't compromise.” You shot back.
“No, I won't.” He pushed his chair back aggressively and sat his coffee down hard, he looked irritated by all of this. He didn't like that you thought you had the power to interrogate him.
Miguel walked past you as he went to exit the room but then for some reason he halted in his tracks. Compromise. Miguel is not known for compromising. The people around him know that for a fact, but he doesn't want this marriage to be another agenda that he has to put up with. He didn't want to hate you.
He sighed.
“Choose where we go. Tell my brother and he'll tell my pilot.” Miguel said coldly, his tone clipped and gruff even when he was trying to build a bridge of some sort.
It didn't seem like you had a choice, so now you were just another lackey he ordered around.
#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara
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ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘ
ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ || 3617 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴘᴀɪɴ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴜᴅɪᴛʏ (ᴛᴏᴘʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴍᴀʟᴇ), ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ? (ʙᴏʟᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ, ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʜɪꜱ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇꜱ, ᴀʟʟᴏᴡꜱ ʏ/ɴ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ. ᴀꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ꜱᴏᴏᴛʜᴇꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀɪɴ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ᴏᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ, ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ. ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴏɴᴅ, ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ.
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ
Viktor sat at his workstation, surrounded by piles of research notes, mechanical blueprints, and countless prototypes he had spent weeks perfecting. The lab was cluttered but organised, much like his mind: always racing, always filled with ideas, always on the verge of another breakthrough. But today, there was something different about the way he was working. Every shift in his chair, every movement of his hands, was accompanied by a subtle wince, a barely audible grunt of discomfort.
The familiar pain in his leg and back was beginning to rise again, a constant gnawing ache that he had become all too accustomed to. The leg brace, the one that kept his joints in place and allowed him to walk, was pressing against the skin in all the wrong places. The back brace, essential for keeping his spine stable, was digging into the muscles of his back. Every time he shifted in his chair, he felt the weight of the metal and leather, reminding him that his body was no longer the same. His inventions had advanced, but his physical state had deteriorated far faster than he’d hoped.
He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore it. Pain had always been something Viktor could push aside for the sake of his work. He had mastered the art of compartmentalising his discomfort, focusing instead on the complexities of his projects. But today, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The pain was relentless, and no matter how much he tried to push through it, it was starting to cloud his thoughts.
Across the room, Y/N had noticed the subtle shifts in Viktor’s movements. She had always been attuned to him, to the way he carried himself and the small details that spoke volumes about his mental and physical state. His meticulous focus on his work, combined with his ever-growing discomfort, was hard to miss. She had watched him for days now, and it seemed like the pain was only getting worse. He was avoiding the issue, as he always did, but she wasn’t about to let him push it aside any longer.
“Viktor,” Y/N said softly, her voice cutting through the silence of the lab. He didn’t respond immediately, his fingers hovering over a complex set of calculations, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Viktor,” she repeated, this time more firmly, her tone leaving no room for dismissal.
He blinked, startled out of his thoughts, and looked up at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something between frustration and embarrassment—but it quickly disappeared, replaced by the same cold, impassive look he always wore.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice gruff, as if the mere suggestion that he might not be was an affront to his pride. “Just a little discomfort, nothing to worry about.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. “You’re clearly not fine, Viktor. I’ve seen you suffer through worse pain without flinching, but today…” She paused, stepping closer to him, her eyes scanning his tense posture. “You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?”
Viktor hesitated, shifting slightly in his chair as the pain in his back flared again. He wanted to argue, to insist that he could manage it, that he didn’t need anyone’s help. But the truth was, he was exhausted—physically and emotionally—and the thought of enduring it alone made him feel even more defeated.
“I don’t need help, Y/N,” Viktor said, his voice softer now, but still carrying a note of resistance. “I’m just being… cautious. It’s nothing.”
Y/N didn’t buy it. She knew Viktor too well. His refusal wasn’t out of strength; it was out of pride. He hated being seen as weak, especially in front of her. But she wasn’t going to let him suffer just to maintain that illusion.
“You’re not weak for needing help, Viktor,” Y/N said, her voice gentle but insistent. “Everyone needs someone sometimes, even you.”
Viktor flinched at the thought. His first instinct was to refuse her offer, to tell her that it wasn’t necessary. But something in her expression made him pause. She wasn’t asking for permission in the way most people did. She wasn’t tiptoeing around him with pity or hesitation. No, Y/N was simply offering her help—no strings attached, no expectations, just a quiet offer of care.
But still, Viktor couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Not yet.
“I… I don’t need help,” he muttered, his voice softer now, though there was an edge of pride in his words. He couldn't let her see him like this. His discomfort wasn’t just physical—it was emotional too. The idea of letting anyone in, even someone as kind and understanding as Y/N, made him feel exposed. Vulnerable.
Y/N’s expression softened, but her resolve didn’t falter. She could see the battle waging inside him, the reluctance, the pride, and the shame. She understood it, more than he realised. But she wasn’t going to let him keep suffering silently. Not when she could do something about it.
She watched him for a moment longer, then, without another word, she turned and left the lab.
Viktor blinked in surprise, not sure what to make of her sudden departure. Had he pushed her too far? Was she angry? He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as he soon found himself back to shifting and fidgeting in his seat, unable to find a comfortable position. He tried to focus on his work again, but his mind kept drifting back to the discomfort gnawing at him.
The minutes ticked by slowly, each one more excruciating than the last. Finally, just as he thought he might lose his patience entirely, the door to the lab opened again. Y/N walked in, her arms full. She didn’t say a word as she set a thick, warm blanket on the table beside him, then placed a small bowl filled with warm water, a rag, and a tub of soothing cream in front of him. Viktor stared at the items, bewildered.
“What is all this?” he asked, his voice still tinged with confusion. She didn’t say anything at first, only walk back over to the door and locking it with a soft click. The sound felt like an unspoken promise that nothing would interrupt this moment, that Viktor would finally have to face what he had been avoiding.
“I don’t need this,” Viktor said, his voice barely above a whisper, though the weakness in his tone was undeniable. He looked at her, but his gaze quickly fell to the floor, unable to meet her eyes. “I can manage on my own.”
Y/N didn’t respond with words. Instead, she moved swiftly, placing the blanket around his shoulders with a tenderness he hadn’t expected. The warmth from the blanket was comforting, but it was her quiet insistence that made Viktor feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time: care.
“Sit back,” Y/N instructed gently, “and let me help you.”
Viktor remained motionless, his eyes locked on the table. For a moment, it seemed as though he might argue again, but when Y/N’s gaze met his, something in her eyes made him falter. There was no pity there, no judgment—only quiet strength and compassion, the kind that Viktor had always longed for but never knew how to ask for. He was tired of fighting it. Tired of being alone in his struggle.
With a resigned sigh, Viktor finally gave in, his shoulders slumping in surrender. “Alright,” he murmured, the word heavy with reluctance.
Y/N didn’t waste a moment, draping the blanket more securely around his shoulders, ensuring he was comfortable. The weight of his exhaustion was clear in the way he leaned into the chair, but there was something vulnerable about him now, stripped of the cold, calculating exterior he often wore. She moved quickly, efficiently, as if this was a routine she had performed many times before, though Viktor had never quite seen her care for him like this.
Carefully, Y/N knelt in front of Viktor and reached for the straps of his leg brace, her fingers nimble and precise as she undid them one by one. With each release, the tension in Viktor’s body seemed to ease, and as the final strap came undone, the brace slipped away with a soft metallic click. Y/N gently rolled up Viktor’s pant leg, revealing his bare leg. His skin was pale, slightly irritated from the constant pressure of the brace. Faint marks from the metal lingered on his skin, but Y/N remained unbothered. Her hands were warm and soothing as she massaged a cream into his muscles, her fingers working with gentle precision, kneading away the tension and easing the discomfort from his leg.
Viktor closed his eyes, unable to suppress the soft sigh that escaped his lips. The cream was cool at first, but as Y/N’s fingers dug into his muscles, working out the tightness, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. The pain began to fade, the knotting of his muscles slowly loosening under her touch. He had never allowed anyone to care for him in this way—not since his condition had worsened. But with Y/N, he didn’t feel like a burden. He felt... cared for.
“You don’t have to do this,” Viktor whispered softly, his voice a little hoarse, the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on him. “You’re not obligated.”
Y/N paused for a moment, her hands stilling against his skin. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “I want to. You don’t have to do everything alone, Viktor. Not anymore.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. Viktor felt something stir in his chest—a warmth that spread through him, a strange comfort in knowing that someone cared enough to help him, to be here for him. The pain still lingered, but it wasn’t as consuming now. With Y/N by his side, he felt… a little more human.
But the moment was interrupted when Y/N looked up at him, her expression soft but resolute. “Viktor,” she began gently, “if you’re comfortable, can you take off your shirt? I’ll need to take of your back brace so I can apply the cream”
Viktor froze for a moment, caught off guard. He had become so used to hiding himself—his weaknesses, his vulnerabilities—that the idea of anyone seeing him exposed, even Y/N, made his stomach churn. He looked away, his cheeks burning as a mixture of embarrassment and pride clashed within him.
“I’m not sure that’s necessary,” he said quickly, his voice suddenly clipped. He tried to brush off her request with a cocky smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not exactly the kind of man you want to see without a shirt on.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression unphased. “Viktor,” she said softly, “you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. You’re just a man, just like anyone else.”
Viktor’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Deep down, he knew what she was saying was true, but the sight of his scarred, frail body left him feeling exposed in a way he couldn’t quite articulate. His leg, his back—everything about him had changed since the accident, and the idea of someone seeing those changes... especially someone who cared for him as much as Y/N did, made him feel ashamed.
But when he met her gaze again, he saw only warmth and understanding in her eyes. There was no pity there, no judgment—just acceptance. She wasn’t asking him to do anything he wasn’t ready for. She was just trying to help.
With a deep, shaky breath, Viktor carefully moved the blanket from around his shoulders to his lap. His fingers hesitated before he slowly unbuttoned his waistcoat, peeling it off with effort before moving to his shirt. Each button seemed to take an eternity, his hands trembling slightly as he undid them, his hesitation palpable. Finally, with a deep exhale, he stripped off his shirt completely, revealing his pale, freckled torso. The sight of the marks and scars on his body made him cringe inwardly, a reminder of all that had changed, but he kept his gaze fixed on Y/N, trying to gauge her reaction. He was afraid of being judged, of her seeing him as broken.
Y/N didn’t flinch. She didn’t look away. Instead, she focused on the task at hand, her hands gently resting on his shoulders. Her touch was soft and deliberate on his skin, her eyes never leaving his, offering him reassurance without words.
“You look just fine,” she murmured softly, her voice steady and warm. “Now, let me take care of you. You deserve this.”
Her words were simple, but they resonated deeply within him. He felt something shift inside him at her kindness. She wasn’t looking at him as something to be fixed, or a broken man. She was just... there. Caring for him, with no expectation of anything in return.
Y/N turned to the back brace, her brow furrowed in concentration. The brace wasn’t just fastened with straps—it was bolted directly to the metal supports in his spine, and she had to be delicate with the process. She reached for a small screwdriver from the desk, her movements precise and deliberate as she carefully unscrewed the bolts. Viktor winced slightly at the feeling of the brace loosening, but Y/N’s careful touch made the process smooth.
As Y/N finished unscrewing the last bolt from Viktor's back brace, the metallic sound of the final piece coming free echoed in the quiet room. She carefully removed the brace from his back, letting it fall gently to the side. Viktor let out a relieved sigh, the weight lifted from his spine as he sat up straighter, his posture improving almost instinctively.
Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at the marks left behind on his skin—the faint impressions of where the brace had dug into his back. The skin was pale, slightly red and irritated in places, but nothing more severe than the daily wear of his struggle. She gently ran her fingers along his back, tracing the curves of his muscles, feeling the remnants of tension still lingering there.
Her touch was light, almost reverent, as her hand glided across the areas where the brace had pressed hardest against his skin. Viktor couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the sensation. It wasn’t cold, but it was new—a feeling of being touched with care, not with the intent to fix or change something, but just to comfort. Her fingers brushed against the small marks, moving over them with the softest of strokes, soothing the skin that had been under such constant pressure.
Her touch lingered there for a moment, as if she was offering her own silent reassurance, acknowledging the pain and the wear that Viktor had endured without words. She didn’t look at him; her focus was entirely on him, on making him feel seen and cared for in a way that he hadn’t allowed anyone to before.
Viktor felt a warmth bloom in his chest, his breath steadying as her hand continued its gentle strokes. He had never allowed anyone to care for him like this—never let himself be vulnerable enough to be touched with such tenderness. But with Y/N, it didn’t feel like something to be ashamed of. It felt... right. Her hand lingered for a moment longer before she gently withdrew, her fingertips trailing down his spine one last time before pulling away.
“Better?” she asked, her voice soft and steady, but there was no mistaking the care in it. Viktor met her gaze, and for a moment, he simply didn’t know how to respond. His heart felt full in a way it hadn’t in so long, and he could only nod in response, unable to find the words.
Y/N smiled faintly, her touch still lingering in his memory. She had been careful with him, kind, and Viktor realized that maybe, just maybe, there was room in his life for someone else’s care.
As the quiet settled in the room, Viktor continued to relax under Y/N's care, his body surrendering to the relief her touch was providing. The soothing feeling of her hands working on his back made his thoughts grow foggy, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to forget the weight of his responsibilities, the constant ache in his body, and the relentless pressure he placed on himself.
But just as he started to let go completely, the sound of a knock at the door broke the peace.
"Mr. Viktor? Sir?" A voice called out from the other side of the door. It was a colleague—someone who often came to Viktor for advice, or perhaps for assistance on one of the many projects he was involved in. The voice was persistent, as if they had something important to discuss.
Viktor stiffened for a moment, his hand gripping the edge of the table as he slowly pulled himself back into a more upright position. He hadn’t been expecting anyone, and the interruption was enough to break his sense of calm. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could even speak, Y/N was already standing, her voice cool and firm.
“He’s busy,” she said without hesitation, her tone leaving no room for argument. She didn’t even look at Viktor, her eyes never leaving the door as she stood resolute, her back straight and confident. “He can’t be disturbed right now.”
There was a slight pause before the voice from outside replied, a touch of frustration creeping in. “Professor Y/N? I'm sorry but this is important. I need his input on a few things—it's urgent.”
Y/N’s expression hardened, and Viktor could feel the tension in the air rise. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain still lingering in his body or the unexpected interruption, but her protectiveness over him, her refusal to let anyone come in and disrupt their moment, struck something deep within him.
She crossed her arms, her body language suddenly more intimidating than Viktor had ever seen it. “I don’t care how urgent it is. Viktor is not available. He’s been working non-stop and is getting some much-needed rest. Now, leave him alone.” Her voice was sharp, like a blade, cutting through the request without a moment's hesitation.
There was a brief silence on the other side of the door, and Viktor could hear the person’s attempts to stifle their own frustration. "This is ridiculous, professor. You can’t just—"
But before the person could finish their sentence, Y/N stepped forward, her voice dropping lower, but far more dangerous now. "If you knock on that door again, you’ll regret it," she snapped, her tone filled with a venom that left no room for doubt. “Viktor has given enough of himself today. He does not owe anyone anything right now. Do you understand?”
The silence on the other side of the door was deafening. Viktor could sense the unease that had settled, and he could almost hear the person taking a step back, weighing whether it was worth pushing further.
Finally, after a long, tense moment, the voice from outside responded, softer this time, though tinged with annoyance. "Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when the project falls behind."
Y/N’s eyes never left the door, her stance unwavering as she waited for the footsteps to retreat down the hallway. Only when the sound of retreating footsteps faded into the distance did she turn back to Viktor, her face softening as she returned to her previous position by his side.
Viktor sat there, stunned by the sheer force of her presence. He had never seen her like that before—so protective, so fierce. It was as if she had become a barrier between him and the outside world, ensuring that no one could disturb his peace, no matter how much they needed him.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Viktor could feel the weight of her gaze on him, but he didn’t look up immediately. He was still processing the fact that she had just defended him in such an aggressive way, something he wasn’t sure anyone had ever done for him.
When he finally met her eyes, there was a mixture of gratitude and disbelief in his gaze. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly, his voice still low from the physical exhaustion.
Y/N smiled, though it was a small, almost mischievous smile. “Yes, I did,” she replied softly, her fingers gently brushing against his back as she resumed her care. “I promised you I’d take care of you, Viktor. And I meant it.”
Viktor’s chest tightened at her words, the weight of her promise settling over him like a warm blanket. He hadn’t realised just how much he needed it, how much he needed her, until this moment. Her presence in his life had always been a stabilising force, but now, it was as if she had truly become his anchor.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity was clear in every syllable.
Y/N’s expression softened, and she placed the last of the cream on his back, her touch gentle. “You don’t need to thank me, Viktor. Just… don’t push yourself so hard. Let me help.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, Viktor allowed himself to truly rest, to lean into the care she was offering him. His body ached, his mind was weary, but for this moment, with Y/N beside him, it felt like he could finally breathe again.
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Ayayui date♡
// I'm not sure why, but I suddenly got a burst of creativity. There's no special occasion for this post; it was really just an excuse to edit Yui in my favorite Princess Collection outfit. I like how the merch line was released right on Ayato’s birthday, so I really wanted to see an Ayayui date in those outfits! 😌💕
I was in the mood to write a special scenario again. You just have to click on ‘Keep reading’ to find it. This one is set after the LE events, particularly after the After Story, so I hope you enjoy it! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )
Ayato: Haa… finally!
After all this time, I’ve managed to sort out every single problem in the Demon World.
Geez, I’m gladly taking a break!
( Ever since I became king, I’ve been buried in an endless pile of documents—so many that I’ve grown sick just being in that place. Things seem to be getting better in the Demon World, though I’d lie to say it’s perfectly stable. )
( Well, whatever. I shouldn’t bother too much about that… for now. )
( Right now, all I can think about is her. Ugh, these stupid king duties have kept us apart for way too long. I’m sure she must’ve felt really lonely, huh…? )
( Damn it! That was never my intention, but I know it must be boring as hell to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself. )
( That’s why, I’m definitely going to make it up to her today and take her somewhere nice~! )
Place: Their room
Ayato: Chi-chi-na-shi, guess who’s ba—
( Hah!? She’s not here? )
Oi, Yui!
( She’s still not answering? )
Yui, where are yo—
???: Ayato-kun..!
— hugs his back —
Ayato: What the—!
Yui: Fufu, sorry for taking you off guard. I was just thrilled to see Ayato-kun again!
Ayato: Geez, next time I call you, answer me, understood? You’re still in the Demon World, anything could happen when no one’s around, y’know?
Yui: Ah… I’m sorry for being careless. I hope I didn’t make you worry…
Ayato: No need to sulk now. What matters the most is that you’re alright.
Now… about the thing you’re wearing. Where the heck did you even get it from? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in it.
Yui: Oh, actually I bought it last time we went shopping together. You see… I didn’t show it to you back then because I wanted it to be a surprise, but uuh… does it not suit me?
Ayato: Haa… normally, when a woman wants to surprise her man, she wears lingerie or something sexy, but I’ll forgive you this time. Why? Because you look hella cute in that, can’t deny.
— Yui blushes —
Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you! I’m really happy…!
Ayato: ( Is she seriously almost on the verge of tears for that? )
C-C’mon, don’t get all emotional over every little thing. The date hasn’t even started yet! You really want people to see you with red eyes and puffy cheeks outside?
— Yui shakes head —
Ayato: Good, now let’s go!
— He takes her hand —
Place: Kaminashi City
Ayato: Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I somehow missed this place.
Yui: Is that so? I thought Ayato-kun didn’t like the Human World.
Ayato: I don’t mind either of them, but right now I’m sick of the Demon World. If I see one more document, I will end up throwing up on the spot.
Yui: Ayato-kun…
( That’s right, he’s been working a lot ever since he became king. I’m sure it must truly be tiring spending days in front of all those documents. )
I’m glad you put a lot of effort in your role, but take it easy, okay? I can’t do much in this situation, yet… If you ever need help, I want to be there to support you!
Ayato: Hmm… anyway. I’m not here to talk about work again. I just want us to enjoy some time together for once.
Yui: ( Ayato-kun really sounds exhausted… He’s matured so much these past few months, which isn’t bad, but I just wish he could relax a little. )
Then, let’s make the best of this day!
— tugs onto his arm and starts walking —
*Timeskip*
Yui: Haa… it’s way better outside.
( Ayato-kun is still waiting to pay for our things, but it was way too hot in that store, so he told me to get some fresh air. )
( Now that I think about it, vampires are always cold, so I doubt the heat bothers him as much as it does me, right? Even so, seeing him care about my comfort makes me really happy. )
— warm breeze hits —
Yui: Mm… so ni—
— something suddenly hits her —
Yui: Kyah! What on earth was that!?
Eh? That’s—
Familiar: Greetings. Pardon my interruption, but could it be that you are Komori Yui-sama?
Yui: ( ‘Sama’? Uuh… I feel like that’s an exaggeration. )
Yes, I am. Did anything happen…?
Familiar: Rest assured, there is no need for alarm. My purpose here is simply to entrust this to your care. Unable to find Ayato-sama, I must rely on you to deliver him this letter.
— Yui takes it —
Yui: But, what’s this letter about?
If it’s possible to tell, of course.
Familiar: In essence, a new set of documents has been prepared for Ayato-sama. Please inform him at your earliest convenience, as his return is eagerly anticipated.
Yui: Wait! Does it mean that he really has to return now—!
( Oh no! The familiar is already gone! )
( To think that Ayato-kun was finally starting to relax again… )
( All this letter will do is ruin his day, that’s for sure. )
( But at the same time, not showing it to him… that would undoubtedly get him in troubles. )
( Uuh… This situation is so complicated. What should I do…? )
Ayato: Chichinashi!!!
Yui: ….!
— suddenly hides the letter —
A-Ah, Ayato-kun, you’re back!
Ayato: Duh, and I kept calling your name but it seems you only answer to Chi-chi-na-shi~.
— He starts pinching her cheeks —
Yui: Whey dwont, staphh!
Ayato: Hehe, that’s what you get for spacing out and ignoring me.
Anyway, you weren’t approached by any creeps, were you?
Yui: N-No, not at all!
Ayato: Hmm… that doesn’t sound too honest. Are you lying?
Yui: No way! I… I’m just hungry and my stomach won’t stop growling, which is really embarrassing…
Ayato: Haa… you never change. Always getting embarrassed over everything, but no worries, I didn’t hear anything. Though, if you’re really that hungry, I guess we could get something to eat.
Yui: Y-Yeah, that sounds great!
* Timeskip *
Yui: ( After the restaurant, we went to the mall, then back to the center. Ayato-kun… we walked a lot today, but instead of getting tired, he just got more and more energetic. )
( I suppose he was really in need of this break, so maybe hiding that letter wasn’t entirely bad, no…? Still, I’ll have to give it to him today, otherwise I’ll surely put him at risk… )
Ayato: Oi Yui, look!
Yui: W-Woah! I’ve never seen such big Takoyaki before!
Ayato: Heh, right? It’s even bigger than the ones from the Demon World!
Also, Ore-sama got you this, so I better see you eat it all.
Yui: Eh-? This is such a big donut! T-There’s no way I could eat all of it!
Ayato: So you’re refusing my donut? You’re way too ungrateful for a Chichinashi. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need it any—
Yui: No, no, the donut is good!
— starts eating it —
Come to think of it, today you’ve spoiled me quite a lot, Ayato-kun.
Ayato: And why would that be bad? I thought women liked that.
Yui: It’s not bad, but I really didn’t do anything special. You’re the one who’s been working all day and night, for this reason I believe you deserve this treatment more.
Ayato: Haa… getting all self-conscious, just like always.
Look, you know I’m not good at sentimental shit, but after everything we’ve been through, your presence is special enough for me.
I guess I just want to cherish you, that’s all.
Yui: Ayato-kun… I feel the——
A-Ah, oh no!
( The chocolate… it melted on my hand! )
I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!
— tries to stand up —
Ayato: Nah, nah. C’mere.
— grabs her and sits her on his lap —
Yui: Wait, don’t!
— he starts licking her hand —
Yui: A-Ayato-kun, stop it! We’re in public…!
Ayato: Mnn… Mm…
— slowly bites —
Yui: Uuh…
( At this rate, people will definitely start watching!)
— starts moving —
Ayato: Tch, you’re making this way too hard for both! Just stay still and stop acting like I’m about to kill you!
Yui: ( I know his intentions aren’t bad, but this is getting too embarrassing…! )
( I’m sorry, Ayato-kun! )
— tries to push him away but falls down —
Yui: Oww…
Ayato: ( Geez, what a klutz. )
Haa… are you hurt?
— grabs her arm and picks her up —
Yui: Ah, I’m alright, no worries.
Ayato: Oi.
What’s that?
— picks something up —
Yui: ….!
Ayato: Is that… a letter for me?
— starts reading it —
You… you had it all this time with you and didn’t say a word?!
Yui: I… I can explain!
You see, I thought—
Ayato: Shut up!
Do you even have the slightest clue about what you just did!? I seriously doubt you understand how important king duties are, do you?
Hah, of course, you don’t! Why would you?
You sit around doing absolutely nothing all day while I’m working my ass off to make sure you and everyone else can live comfortably!
I’m out here putting in the effort, grinding to create a decent life, not just for you, but for everyone, even if I didn’t ask for this shit. And you do this to me!?
I thought you matured too, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch!
Yui: Wait! Ayato-ku—
Ayato: Don’t touch me!
Yui: …!
Please, listen to me!
— grabs his clothes —
Ayato: Quiet! I’m not risking to go through that again only because of someone like you. Get lost!
— pushes her away and leaves —
Yui: …!
No… No… this can’t be the end…
How… How could I be this stupid…? Hhn… Ngh…
Kuh… Ayato-kun.. Nhn…
Place: Avenue
Ayato: (Fuck! I can’t return to the Demon World right now. )
( On top of that, why the hell am I the one feeling guilty now!? )
( She… Yes, she deserved that treatment. That’s what she gets for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, what she did could lead to something dangerous. )
( It’s not the first time she pulls such shit on me anyway, but… )
( Why can’t I stay mad at her no matter what she does to me…? )
Tch, such bullsh— Hah?
Guy 1: Aww, she’s playing hard to get~!
Guy 2: Aren’t you a bit too feisty for a crybaby?
???: S-Stop it! Leave me alone!
Ayato: …!
( That voice… Yui! )
Place: Alley
Yui: I-I told you to stop!
Guy 1: Just come with us, it’ll be fun~.
Yui: No, I don’t want to!
Guy 2: She keeps struggling, isn’t she cu——
— gets punched —
Guy 1: What the—
Guy 2: Such strength!
Yui: Eh?
Ayato: Get out of my sight, you bastards! If you don’t leave this girl alone right now, I’ll make sure your already disgusting faces get even worse!
— they start running away —
Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you!
( He came back for me… )
Ayato: ….
— grabs her hand and starts walking —
*Timeskip*
Yui: ( Ever since Ayato-kun saved me, he hasn’t spoken a word. )
( It’s obvious that he’s mad… )
( But if both of us keep quiet, this conflict will never be solved… )
Ayato & Yui simultaneously: I’m sorry.
Yui: ( Eh? Did he just— )
No… I’m the one who should apologize. I hid that letter, knowing full well the consequences it could have.
However… I only did it because I wanted Ayato-kun to have some free time for himself too.
Ayato: You…
Yui: I’m aware of how much work you have to do, and being king is definitely not easy. That’s why, I really admire your for that.
Nevertheless, it saddens me seeing Ayato-kun so stressed out and exhausted. I want Ayato-kun to be always as energetic and cheerful as he was today, but… I do realize that I’m just being selfish.
Ayato: No… You… You’re not selfish, I am.
I was the one who didn’t listen to your side of the story. It’s just... I’m afraid of failing as king. There, I said it!
I don’t want to put the people I care for in danger, nor can’t I accept being a worse king than that old fart, so all I have to do is carry out my duties. Hell yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but that’s my responsibility now, which is why I can’t back off.
Yui: ( Ayato-kun… I never thought you felt that way… )
N-no, the way you reacted was understandable. Anyone under that much stress might have done the same, and I can’t blame you for it.
Besides, I can’t say your words were wrong. I am indeed incapable of fully understanding the challenges you face, however… no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’ll always be the best king to me…!
Ayato: …!
Heh… you really never change.
— hugs her—
Yui: W-Well, I suppose I can’t change if I do nothing all day.
Ayato: Hmph, are you throwing shade at me for what I told you?
Yui: Eh? No way, it was just a coincidence! I swear!
Ayato: Pfft, proved my point. You'll forever stay the clumsy, stupid, and oddly adorable woman that you are.
Yui: Hey, that’s backhan— Mm…!
Ayato: Nn…
Yui: ( Ayato-kun… his kiss is so gentle… )
( I really missed Ayato-kun’s kisses. I’m so happy…! )
Ayato: Oi, don’t tell me you’re about to cry again.
Yui: I’m not but…
I just want to know, will the letter get Ayato-kun in troubles…?
Ayato: I might get some weird looks for not showing up on time, and maybe a lecture or two, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I was supposed to start on them today since there’s a lot, but... I think I’d rather spend my time with my girl instead.
Yui: Is that so? Thank you.
But doesn't that mean you'll have to work even harder to make up for today?
Ayato: I guess it can’t be helped. I don’t want to think of tomorrow, all I want is to focus on the present.
Yui: Fufu, I see. By the way…
Will you uhm… stay overnight too?
Ayato: Heh~? Is that supposed to be a sex invitation?
Yui: I… T-That’s—!
Ayato: Heh~, don’t even try to get out of it, it’s written all over your face.
Rest assured though, the invitation is accepted~.
— Smooch —
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Supercorptober Day 28: Book
ao3 fic link. ao3 series link. - Thanks to @itistakingover for this idea!
Kara knows she’s in trouble. She can see it as soon as she walks into their apartment and sees her sister sitting at the dining table, book closed in front of her.
“We need to talk.”
There’s no preamble, Alex getting straight to the point, which means Kara’s in even more trouble than she thought.
It also means there’s no getting out of this.
“I can explain,” Kara starts, even though she can’t. Or, well, she can, but Kara knows Alex won’t be taking any of her excuses, not this time.
“Kara, this has to stop,” Alex continues, ignoring her. “We can barely afford rent and food and all the bills that are piling up and you brought another book. You promised you wouldn’t.”
Kara swallows. She thought she’d hid the book better, but Alex must have found it as it’s sitting on the table between them.
Kara’s glad she took a bag to the bookstore today, Alex would be extra upset if she knew that in Kara’s bag is a new book she bought less than half an hour ago.
Kara opens her mouth but Alex cuts her off. “And don’t you dare tell me you had to buy it.”
“But Alex, I did!” It’s really not her fault, she wishes Alex could see that. “I was at the bookstore and Lena was there and I had to buy it or else she’ll wonder why I was in the store again.”
“Oh my God, Kara,” Alex groans, head falling forward, knocking against the table.
Kara, alarmed for a moment, rushes to her sister’s side. “Are you okay?”
Alex sits up, levels Kara with a glare. “You have to stop spending all our money on books. We all know you have a crush on Lena, we all know that’s the only reason you go to her store so often. So please, for the love of God, just ask her out so you’ll stop buying so many books.”
“No, that’s not-“
“Kara, please, just don’t. Yes, I know she’s pretty and I know she’s smart and funny and whatever else you have to say about her. That’s no reason to spend all our money. All you need to do is ask her out and then you’ll get to see her whenever you like and we won’t get kicked out of our apartment because we can’t pay the rent.”
“I...” Kara bites her lip. “What if she says no?”
Alex looks surprised because yes, maybe it is rather obvious that Kara has a crush on Lena, but this is the first time she’s admitted it. Or is close to admitting it anyway.
“Trust me,” Alex says. “She won’t. You’ve both got it as bad as each other.”
Alex has said this before too but Kara has never listened, because there’s no way it’s true. Kara is in way too deep with a girl she only knows because she visits her bookstore so often. To Lena, Kara is probably just another customer who spends a lot of money, which means being nice to her is good for business.
“So,” Alex says, pulling Kara from her thoughts. “You promise you won’t buy any more books? And this time actually mean it?”
“But what if she-“
“No.” Alex cuts her off. “That’s it, come with me.”
Kara is alarmed as Alex abruptly stands and grabs onto her arm. Kara stumbles a little as she follows her sister.
“Where are we going?” Kara asks as Alex drags her out of the apartment.
“We’re going to the bookstore so you can ask Lena out.”
Kara stops on the spot, pulling Alex to a stop too. “No.”
Alex turns and tugs on her sisters arm again. “Yes. It’s either this or we’re going to starve because I know the next time you see her you’ll want to buy another book and we just can’t afford that.”
Considering that that’s exactly what happened this morning, Alex might be right.
“But,” Kara starts, except that only excuse she can think of not to do this is because she’s terrified. Which is a pretty good excuse in Kara’s opinion.
“No buts. Please, we need that money.”
Kara sighs, Alex is right.
“What do I even say?” Kara asks, starting to walk again on her own, surprising Alex again.
“Hi Lena, I’ve been in love with you forever and I want to have your babies.”
This time, Kara glares at Alex.
Alex laughs. “Ok fine. You just say, ‘Hi, I really like you, do you want to go out for coffee sometime?’”
“That sounds too easy.”
“It is that easy,” Alex agrees, though Kara still doesn’t believe her.
Kara stops again once they arrive at the store, standing outside, too scared to go in knowing what Alex wants her to do. And she wants to do it too, has dreamed of this, of actually telling Lena how she feels, or Lena asking her out, any version that it goes well and she gets to be with Lena.
Kara sees Lena through the window and despite the fact that Lena is talking to a customer, she happens to look up and catches Kara’s eye through the window. Lena gives her a small smile and wave and something in Kara’s chest loosens.
This is Lena, who always makes time to chat with her in store, who is always nice and friendly and is kind to everyone she meets. Lena, who is always willing to help Kara with any book request, no matter how silly it is and always makes her feel so warm and welcome.
Lena, who she is in love with and maybe does want to have her babies, but she’ll never admit that out loud.
“Go on,” Alex urges and Kara takes a deep breath before she steps through the door. The bell jingles above her head and even that is comforting in its familiarity.
Alex follows her in and Kara is glad her sister is here, even if she’s probably just going to embarrass herself.
Alex wanders off, making herself look busy looking at books but Kara stands awkwardly in the middle of the store, unsure what to do.
It’s a few minutes before Lena is finished with the customer and then she immediately makes her way towards Kara.
“Kara, what a nice surprise. Was one book not enough for you today?”
Kara shoots a quick look at her sister and finds Alex glaring at her, so obviously she’d heard and hadn’t figured out Kara had already bought a book today.
Lena catches the look, glancing between them. “Is everything okay?”
Kara shakes her head, and then just goes for it. Honestly is good, right? “No, Alex is upset I keep buying books.”
Lena looks confused. “Is that a bad thing?”
Kara bites her lip. “Yes, when I’m spending all our rent money on books.”
Lena still looks confused. “Oh I-“
Kara cuts her off. “Let me explain?”
Lena pauses and nods.
“It’s not the buying books part that is bad, it’s that I’m buying books I don’t need because I come in here just to see you but use the books as an excuse.”
Lena’s eyes widen. “Oh.”
“And I have genuinely enjoyed all the books I’ve brought from you, but the main reason I come in here most days is just to see you.”
Lena smiles. “I know.”
“What?”
“I mean, I did think you wanted the books and I wouldn’t have let you buy them if I’d known you were spending your rent money. But I did know you were coming in here just to see me.”
“Oh.” It’s now Kara’s turn to not know what to say. “Is that okay?” Kara finally asks when the silence stretches too long.
“Is what okay?”
“Is it okay that I come here just to see you?”
Lena nods. “I look forward to your visits. Every time the bell jingles, I hope it’s you.”
Kara bites her lip, her heart skipping in her chest. This isn’t how she saw today going at all. “Does that mean if I ask you out for coffee, you’ll say yes?”
Lena presses her lips together, her cheeks pink as she nods. “I’d really like that.”
“I really like you,” Kara replies, the words tumbling from her mouth without much thought but as soon as she’s said them, she regrets it immediately. What if that’s not what Lena meant, what if she-
Kara’s thought process is derailed when Lena reaches out and takes her hand, warm fingers slipping between her own.
“I really like you too,” Lena says, voice soft and eyes bright.
Kara could spend forever looking into Lena’s eyes, trying to figure out exactly what colour they are.
“Thank God.”
Both Kara and Lena startle at the interruption, Alex suddenly beside them.
“Sorry to break this up but Lena, you have a customer.”
Lena’s cheeks go properly red this time as she turns and sees a customer at the counter.
Lena turns back to Kara. She takes her hand, pulls a pen out of her pocket and scribbles something on Kara’s hand.
“I have to go, but text me?” Lena asks, shy again like they didn’t just both admit they like each other. Of course, Kara isn’t going to say no.
Kara nods as she watches Lena go and help the customer. She looks down at her hand and sees Lena’s number written in blue ink, a little heart beside it.
Alex bumps her side. “Told you.”
Kara grins. “Thank you.”
“It was entirely selfish, I just wanted you to stop spending money,” Alex says but Kara knows that’s not true. It’s definitely partly true but by the way Alex is smiling at her, Kara knows her sister is happy for her too.
Kara links her arm with Alex’s. “Donuts to celebrate?”
Alex laughs. “At least now you can go back to spending all your money on food.”
Kara waves at Lena as she leaves, Lena sending her another small smile that makes Kara warm from the inside. She can’t wait for their first date.
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SLUMP: How Do I Get Out Of Here
Too many times we’ve fallen into slumps and have had trouble picking ourselves up again. This reading serves to be a guidance on how we can be kind to ourselves, how we can get ourselves out from this pit of darkness and walk towards where we belong.
Close your eyes, meditate on this topic and ask yourself the question: Where are you, how are you gonna get out of here? Breathe in and out, make sure your mind and heart is calm. Then, open your eyes to see which pile talks to you the most/draws you in the most. Once you’ve found your pile, scroll down to the respective parts to see what are the messages for you.
Pile 1 - Pile 2
Pile 3 - Pile 4
Disclaimer: This is solely for my entertainment purposes. Take only whatever you feel like it. If it doesn’t resonate, it’s okay to just drop it. Also, I do not consent to my work or images being used by third parties on this platform or other websites as well.
Decks used: Crossing Star Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Luna Cat Tarot Deck (Major Arcana), Linestrider Tarot Deck, Sweet Dreams Oracle Deck, Starcodes Astro Oracle Deck.
Pile 1 - Trickle
A card to symbolise you: The Hermit, The Moon
Aite it ended up with two cards. The first thing I’m picking up here is that there is a need for you to step into the unknown instead of wandering around the entrance. Sure, seeing the dark ahead is scary, but you’re the Hermit, you have your torch with you, and the Moon is shining above you, lighting the path as you take your steps. It’s difficult if you wander around without directions, but you have light guiding your way. You know your goals and how you wanna achieve, all that’s left is to tread carefully to reach the exit. The Moon here is giving me spiritual vibes, so you may turn to that for an extra hand, and an extra opinion so that you can see things from another point of view, and to learn something new.
1. How did you get here? Knight of Pentacles
You've taken up a lot of responsibilities, thinking that it's all your obligation. It's not. All these burdens have piled up on your back, crushing you as time passes. As this went on, people around you have… Well… Taken advantage of you. It’s a little bit difficult to say cuz you tend to be the person who focuses on the main picture and the collective benefit, so you allow yourself to take up more responsibilities. This can also be an excuse to run away from interpersonal problems, especially between family members. Or, there may be a possibility of you not having a decent relationship with your family members, that you have to focus on work and find your worth through your career.
2. How do you get out of here? The High Priestess rx
You’re more of a practical kinda person, focusing on what you can see and what you can comprehend, instead of the spiritual aspect of the world. With this, there may be a loss of connection with your intuition and/or inner voice. You will need to tune into your intuition, pay attention to the voices in you instead of the voices outside (remember to not get it mixed up with anxiety). When you’re feeling low or challenged, remember that you are loved, and you are worthy of love. There’s a saying I’ve read somewhere, “Those who are loved have the strength to conquer difficulties”. Know your worth and accept it. You have come this far, and you will continue to go further.
3. What can you learn from this? Ten of Pentacles
One of your core values is family. You may have been brought up with the concept that family is important and how it has shaped you to who you are today. However, you are called to check if this value aligns with you, aligns with your emotional and mental needs. With the wrong people, it’s no longer an alliance but a discord. You learn the needs of having proper and healthy connection, and how to unlearn old values and beliefs that no longer help you, picking up new values and beliefs along the way. Focus your energy and effort on That One Thing that you want to achieve (purpose), and water that plant (intent). Once you’ve put in the right gear, the rest will fall in place, and you’ll see the results in plain sight.
4. What should you do if this happens again? Three of Cups
Your friends are your greatest support system, but I’m also gonna remind you to also be the friend they need. Although the theory of love languages is a scam, to understand what the other person needs in a friendship (or any forms of relationship) is necessary, else you’re just imposing your ideals onto them. To me, it feels like growing together, relearning new things (or old things) about yourself, understanding yourself better and how to treat yourself better. Hang out with your inner child, do whatever it is that your inner child has wanted to do the entire while. For example, you’ve wanted to colour your hair ever since you're in secondary school, do it; if you’ve wanted to get a new piercing, do it. Go ahead and do whatever it is that you’ve wanted to do (as long as it’s not against the law or rules of whatever institutes that you’re in).
5. What are the qualities you need to have to go through this? Ace of Cups rx
Hmmm… Your emotions are… Rather turbulent, I’d say. There’s an unhealthy stream of emotions that you’re holding back, and the dam is about to break. A lot of healing needs to be done, where you need to focus on yourself, to express selflessness and fairness over yourself first. Not to sound discouraging, but you may never heal from certain trauma, where you can only learn to walk away from whatever that is and live with it. Even though you’re surrounded by obstacles right now, remember that with time and the right amount of attention and effort, you can work through almost any deadlock. By then, you’ll be stronger and more capable to work towards your dreams, desires and goals.
6. Advice for you: The World rx, The Empress
Your journey is far from over, and to some of you, you may not even know where you’re headed, not knowing where your goal is. It can sound discouraging, but I think the beauty in it is that you get to look around and learn, absorb as much knowledge as you want, level up yourself as you go. It’s like… Your goal is to learn and experience, to grow as a being, and let that be part of your soul journey. Be kind to yourself. I feel that many who picked this pile have trouble treating themselves well, financially and emotionally. Some may also be people pleaser because that was what they’ve been taught when they’re kids, and this is a sign that it’s high time for you to cut away from those habits. It may be difficult to cut it off, but at least, recognize and acknowledge this part of you. If you choose to believe that you’re not one, then you won’t work on it. Let your journey on this earth be a fun and comfortable one, where you put your needs first, focusing on yourself. You are not supposed to burn yourself to warm others. Learn to appreciate yourself more, learn to live for yourself.
Overall energy: The Devil, Two of Cups rx, The High Priestess
I’m immediately picking up energies of self-sabotaging. I don’t think I need to further elaborate on this, those who know it will know it. I feel that this pile may listen to their logic more to the point that they ignore everything else, may it be your intuition or your feelings, making you misaligned with yourself. Calm yourself down, stay quiet, focus on one point, and sit there with your head blank (if you need some background noise to help you, do so). Once your head stops screaming, ask yourself about the emotions that you’ve been feeling. Listen to your heart, listen to what it’s trying to tell you. Align yourself to the path you’ve wanted to take. Cultivate yourself, create and enjoy. Invite limitless magic into your life through whatever that goes through your hand. Welcome yourself onto this Earth.
.
.
Pile 2 - Breeze
A card to symbolise you: Death
Changes come and go as the breeze, lightly and without you noticing. It also feels that the changes you bring and the changes you experienced can be similar, where it’s… Nonchalant. There’s not much emotional attachment with whatever you’re holding to, and when it changes, you accept the changes because they don’t affect you much. The transforming energy this card holds is not something sudden, but something that gradually happens over time. It’s like the straws stacking up on the camel’s back. One day, one last straw will break the camel’s back, and that’s when you have to make necessary changes to make sure you survive. This is you right now, and unlike other piles, you are aware of this. It’s still gonna take quite a bit for you to take any action because you don’t think you’re at that point of breaking yet.
1. How did you get here? Knight of Swords rx
You probably have not been paying attention to whatever that’s going on with your life. It feels like… You go along with the flow too much, not paying attention to where the final destination is going to be, focusing very much on the present. With that, people can come in and influence you to work to what they want. I wouldn’t say that they’re bad guys, but imagine parents that can be controlling, wanting you to do things according to their way/method cuz they believe it’s the best for you. Some may actually guilt trip you, or use you to their own convenience, depending on what’s going on and if your family is so. As that goes on, you’ve given up taking control over your own life, only focusing on surviving the days. It’s high time for you to realise where you are standing right now, and hence, you’re experiencing this burn out. You will need to clear your mind and heart of negativity, as well as negative influence to at least rekindle the passion you have towards life.
2. How do you get out of here? Eight of Wands
Rise and leave. This card talks about action, and it’s gonna be very fast. Give them no time to think or to react. Make sure your wings are strong enough to carry you far, make sure whatever chains of negative influences end with you. Take this as a sign to put your hesitation aside and go for it! You may feel as though you’re being trapped in a whirlwind with how everything is happening around you, but place your trust in yourself as well as your higher self. Things will be fine, and you’ll be able to see how your plans worked out. However, remember to step forward with plans and proposals. If you do not feel prepared enough to take any action, it’s okay. Rest, grow stronger and prepare yourself, so that when the chance comes, you’ll be able to take off without any hesitation. You’ll be surprised with how far your dreams have guided you.
3. What can you learn from this? Six of Cups
First thing I’m picking up from here is networking/connections. During this period of time, you probably have made new friends along the way. However, if you look back, you'll notice the similarities between the new friends you've made and your friends from childhood. This is because you tend to fall back into things that provide you comfort and familiarity. Similarly, you fall back to friends and/or family that have stayed with you throughout these while, eventho they have not been kind to you, because of that familiarity. You are called to do some introspection, to discern and decide how you want your life to be, what you are going to do to get that life you wanted.
4. What should you do if this happens again? Six of Wands rx
Should this happen again, stay low and remember where you came from, remember that place of pain where you've finally left, and remind yourself to stay on your toes. Do not think highly of yourself, of how strong you've become and finally you can stand against it. Don't let your ego feed into you. You are very well capable of falling into old patterns again if you have not gone for any therapy. Seek help from some other authorities that you trust, else, you search for people you trust to help you out from this. Remember, there's only so much you can do, and the most important one among all is to protect yourself. You will heal, but you’ll need to take time, allow yourself some rest time for you to regain your energy. You’ll know when you’re healing, or fully healed. Healing is never linear, so don’t rush yourself.
5. What are the qualities you need to have to go through this? Ten of Pentacles
There’s a lot that you have, abundance in finance and human connection. Ten of Pentacles is usually a family card, but I’m also seeing it as a found family, where you select who you want to be in your life. With Pentacles, I’m seeing that this connection may be from work, or those who have helped you in your career. That aside, there’s finances here so… You may be the type who’d save up for rainy days, or you’ll make sure you have enough before you leave whatever situation you’re in. To be able to achieve this, your main qualities would be determination and mental strength. There’s more to go but you have the foundation for this, and from what I’m seeing, you’re already on your way. You may want to try meditation or spiritual related themes, as well as doing a bunch of research on your friends and family. There may be a reason why people around you are acting Like That™, and you may also want to look into yourself if you play any factor.
6. Advice for you: Six of Pentacles, Ten of Wands rx, The Sun rx
Be generous to others, but turn that generosity towards yourself first. Spend money and pamper yourself when you need them. Remember, what goes around comes around, you provide help, and help will be provided to you. Put down those burdens people have been putting on your back. You have a tendency to carry the burdens and expectations of others, when all you need to focus right now is yourself. This is something that will… Challenge your core belief, I'd say. You need to focus on yourself, remember that you are the main character of your own story. At most, you can be the side character of another's story, but never their stepping stone. Once you learn your worth, accept it, and work on it, things will turn out different for you. Half of the cards here are sixes. This usually symbolises themes of success, satisfaction and rewards. Do what you need, and the rest will fall in place.
Overall energy: Temperance, Eight of Pentacles, The Hermit
I'm feeling some sort of balance from you. Things can be a mess, or even chaotic. But you actually know where to go and how to go about it, and you're sharpening your tools (skills) at the moment. What I'm feeling from this is that you're preserving your energy, ready to strike when it's needed, bringing a new form of rebirth. You have been receiving messages from your guides, you know they are having your back. Sure, new life can be birthed from old wounds, but you have no need to burn yourself to warm others, to find your worth in this painful form.
.
.
Pile 3 - Woods
A card to symbolise you: The Emperor rx
For some reason, it feels like you're the dejected king. You've done your best to do a lot of good, fight for what you believe in, and yet get shunned/ostracised by your own people. You still believe in what you stand and fight for, but part of you actually doubts if you're doing the right thing, or if there's something wrong with you. There are some questioning and contemplation, making your heart waver, wondering if you should leave this kingdom you're ruling over and go to some other place. The conflict is pretty… Strong in you at the moment, and it feels like you want to put the sceptre down.
1. How did you get here? Page of Swords rx
It's giving me the feeling/vibe that you've been listening to the wrong people, and there's active manipulation and deception in play. Whatever information that you've received/heard have been altered, and even tampered to a certain extent, trapping you in that perception. From there, it will be difficult for you to deconstruct incorrect information and to absorb new things in. What I'm also picking up is that you may have a tendency to go ahead and lead something, even if you're not familiar with the subject, which may be why you ended up being The Emperor rx. An example: Your cousin has told you that you have skills and talents in becoming a HR team leader, and so you applied for the job even if you have zero HR related skills and experience. With that, you're now leading your team and this is where you see problems come in, because you do not have sufficient tools and skills and experience. You can't quit this job because you've signed a contract, and if you quit, your team members will suffer as they will need to redo everything. Your ideals are nice, but you did not consider the limitations and challenges, ending up extremely unrealistic. With that, of course your team members will complain because you also have not taken their situation into consideration.
2. How do you get out of here? Death
There's a lot of changes that need to be made. Heck, you may need to go through a period of “death”, where you deconstruct your knowledge, what you have, what you pride yourself over; and form something new. It's like… A butterfly. Many people know that the caterpillar wraps itself in silk, and comes out of it as a butterfly. But not many know that the caterpillar literally dissolved into goo inside the cocoon. That sort of “death” is what you will need to go through. From there, you build yourself up with knowledge you've filtered, sourcing out resources carefully, being critical of what information you've gotten (or even whatever others are trying to feed you). Of course, throughout this time, you'll need to rebuild your trust in people, allowing yourself to heal from all sorts of betrayal.
3. What can you learn from this? Five of Wands
Sometimes, conflict isn't necessarily bad. You will need it (sometimes, fights and quarrels as well) to get your thoughts and opinions across, and also to understand the other person better as well. It is through conflict that you'll be able to see things that you've been missing out, especially if those “benefits” are things that are absolutely necessary to the other person. Your sense of justice is not applicable to those who are underprivileged, because they will be the first person who'll suffer from the changes. This conflict can also refer to the wolves inside of you, where you'll need to fight yourself, is your justice really justice if it harms the victims even more. There's more to find out by yourself, and this is a period of transition, where you'll move away from who/what no longer helps you, to things that will be of help and growth in the long run.
4. What should you do if this happens again? The World rx
Remind yourself that it's okay to fail, to be imperfect, and release whatever that is tying you down. Be kind to yourself and let go of self-criticism. This is something bound to happen, since growth is not linear. The world won't end if you make a mistake. But you need to make sure you're learning something from whatever you're doing. Awareness is something important, and you need to be conscious of your action, as well as what it will bring about. Make your actions purposeful, put meaning behind whatever you do or say. You're growing, and you're not doing it alone. You're growing with your friends, you're growing with the world. Do not try controlling the actions of others. You are your own world, and you should be nurturing it with intent.
5. What are the qualities you need to have to go through this? Ace of Swords rx
You're smart. You're either book smart or street smart, or some other forms of smart that I do not know of. Which is why you actually know what it is that you have to help you go through this: By turning that Sword towards yourself. You don't like being told that you're wrong, and it's that pride of yours that will continue to push you forward. And most of all, you will not let yourself make the same mistakes again, allowing you to be sharper than before. Also, you may come up with a guide, describing how you've failed, and how you're making sure that others don't go through the same problems as you. You may end up a little pushy and long-winded, so please be aware of this.
6. Advice for you. King of Cups rx, Wheel of Fortune rx
There are a couple of things that I'm picking up here. One of them is a warning, that you should not attempt any emotional manipulation, guilt-tripping, or any of that sorts, consciously or unconsciously. You may be good with your words, and may have accidentally used them to “convince” someone to see your way, without you attempting to look at their side of the situation. Remember that whatever goes around, comes around. Morality is important, but morality without kindness is just… Inhumane. You also will need to remember to find your new strength, and how you want to proceed with your journey, may it be retiring being a King, or rebuilding your empire with the right people and right values. The cards aren't really willing to fall out, so I guess these are the main themes for you to pay attention to.
Overall energy: Strength, Six of Pentacles, The Star
There are quite some… Misdirected strength here. You are vigorous and ambitious, you have a lot of things that you want to do and to accomplish, but your actions aren't purposeful enough. You probably may feel like you're not seeing much results, and may be slightly dejected. Authorities may have a role in this. However, look at the bright side, you are doing something! Your generosity has helped many people throughout the way, providing faith and hope to those who are troubled. You may be spiritually guided too, so let your guides do their job and steer you towards the direction you're supposed to go.
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Pile 4 - Crackle
A card to symbolise you: The Chariot rx
You’re rushing through a lot of things right now, worried that you can’t catch up with your peers. I’m seeing an image of you riding a horse, pushing yourself forward ruthlessly, ignoring your horse and everything else as you’re only focusing on your goals. Not sure if it’s your horse that will collapse or you falling over first. It is a very… anxious and bouncy energy that I’m feeling here. It’s also warning both you and I that things are going to be a havoc if you’re continuing this, as there’s this lack of balance, where you’re focusing too much on the external items (glory, society-defined success, external approval) instead of whatever that’s going on inside you (self-affirmation, emotional comfort, core belief).
1. How did you get here? The Hanged Man
I’m seeing that you’ve been forcing yourself to do things that you’re not good at. You probably have been called “inflexible” or “stuck in your own way” kinda person, and you’ve forced yourself to change, to see and attempt what other people do. However, it doesn’t work for you. You noticed that you’re not suitable for it, may be due to your upbringing or your brain has already been wired so. Yet you still push ahead with that thought and attempt, wanting to fit in with the rest (and society) so that you do not feel like an outcast. You have received a lot of help throughout this journey, but as the level of difficulty increases, you are running out of helpline and tools to fit in with the rest. This is where you’re starting to feel the burnout and the sense of failure is starting to eat in.
2. How do you get out of here? Eight of Pentacles
Instead of finding ways to fit into societal norms, it would be much better if you focus on what you’re good at and work on it instead. Diligence and hard work are the foundation of success. This is a rather positive card, but you need to make sure that you’re putting in hard work in the right place. You need to first recognise the difference between What You Like and What You’re Good At. From there, you will then need to make the decision on which path you want to take, and how you can expand your skills, and how you can make use of the tools you have to help you out of this slump. Having dreams is great, but you need to equip yourself with the tools to make your dreams a reality. Sometimes, things can turn out to be not… Ideal. You may realise that what you like is not what you’re good at, and it can be rather disappointing, especially if you’re the type of person who wants to do something you like for a living. But then, you can continue to do the things that you like while you also focus on the things that you’re good at. Nothing is stopping you, as long as you know how to balance your time and energy.
3. What can you learn from this? Five of Wands
For some reason, I’m seeing conflict coming from not only within yourself, but also between you and your close friends. Conflicts and arguments often happen when there’s miscommunication, where each party believes themself to be at the right. It is also important to know that one learns better through these kinda fights, where you can take this opportunity to understand what the other person is thinking and expecting, and to see if you are capable of fulfilling that expectation. Every fight is a learning process, where you learn some parts of you that you are not aware of. From there, you make the necessary changes to make yourself into a better person. Now, just a reminder. If you’re incapable of a particular change, do not attempt to change yourself for it. Else, you’ll go through this same process of falling into this same slump, and this cycle will never end. It’s like saying that I can’t fit in the rest of the group because I’m wearing glasses and they don’t. If I don’t get my eyesight fixed, I can’t join their group. Am I gonna get a laser treatment for this? Nope. And it’s alright if I change my friend group because I am unable to adhere to their expectations. The same goes with neurodivergence and neurotypicals as well.
4. What should you do if this happens again? The Fool
Take it as a new form of journey if this happens again, where you travel, meet new people and learn more. You can rest if things get too overwhelming, but you need to remind yourself to get up again and continue your journey. Life’s a constant learning process, where you recognise your changes, and you come up with new coping methods to work with it, especially as you age. For example, your eyesight worsens with age, and you’ll need to change your glasses so that you’re able to function and work as normal. It is the same with life and slumps, where you find out the problems and work accordingly.
5. What are the qualities you need to have to go through this? Judgement
First thing I’m picking up is that you’re very critical of whatever that’s happening within yourself. You may not turn that judging side of yours outwards, where you focus on criticising yourself more. You tend to intentionally make yourself uncomfortable by putting all the blame on yourself, and this is where you need to work on. Instead of putting all the blame on your shoulders, you may try putting them on others if it’s their fault. The more faults you take up, the more you’ll be used. Let others take the responsibility of their actions, let them be uncomfortable with the consequences. You need to remember who you are, and even if you��re judged, let it be because of your own actions, and not of others. Free yourself from what is not yours, may it be glory or sin.
6. Advice for you. - Temperance rx, Nine of Cups rx, Wheel of Fortune
It’s pretty evident with the cards that are presented, where you need to balance yourself, inside and out. Short term gratification (the sense of belonging) is not gonna help you in the long run, especially if it eats into you and makes you question your identity, purpose, and sense of self. There’s a lot of thinking that you need to do, and you can start by writing things down and weighing the options. You may feel that life’s playing a prank on you, or messing you up by throwing these challenges at you. This is something you need to go through though, as it is your life lesson. You may think that this lesson is not something you signed up for (a lot of us think the same), but your higher self had other plans in mind. It’s giving me the feeling that you have not picked up on themes on self identity and core beliefs in your past lives, that’s why you’re going through a bunch of it in this lifetime. Instead of rejecting and skipping class, why not sit through it and pick up bits and pieces to focus.
Overall energy: The Lovers, Ace of Wands
I'm feeling some form of weight on my chest. It’s like you’re burdened with the choices offered to you, either A or B. You are not the type of person who’d prefer to make your pick, probably it’s because you are afraid of dealing with the outcome of your decisions. There’s fear here, but there’s also nervousness, as you’re starting a new chapter of something. Ace of Wands is the first card of the Minor Arcana, which talks about how you’re drafting your life. It would be great if you start the chapter in details of your healing process, including yourself surrendering the old and limiting beliefs that have been tying you down, allowing you to awaken and be reborn into limitless possibilities.
#tuliptic#🌷#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#tarot reading#general tarot reading#self related reading#i have finally completed this#time to rest a while as i plan for the next one#which is also planned#i really do hope i get the energy to do readings again#and i have to do proofreading later#anyways hopefully you guys had fun with this#cheers#just to add on that this song is from#stray kids#skz#yes i love this song
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𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 2
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<The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents.>
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Sadly you were too much of a pussy to do so…plus you had art today.
You managed to escape the grasp of your little sister,how could such a little person be such a deep sleeper?
You picked up the uniform that was scattered on the floor, digging up the obnoxious-coloured tie from under a pile of sweaters. There was no way you were going to make it through the school day, but for some reason you just could not be bothered to try lying. And you lied a lot.
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I mean it was Gotham, you were bound to see hear someone get shot. Especially since it was almost dark out.
The weather was colder than usual, as you passed the same alleyway as last night you noticed the yellow and black tape through the corner of your eye. It surprised you, I mean you half-expected to pass by a dead body. But no, instead it looked like whoever got shot was important…
Why would someone important be in this part of Gotham? Your mind was full of thoughts throughout the drive, why couldn't your mind ever be empty? Once you reached the school halls it began. The weird tightening feeling in your stomach, the way your bag seemed to get a lot heavier, the way your throat felt dry. It happened every time you were alone here. Where the hell were your friends? Friends.
… Did they even like you? Were you being too clingy lately? Were your constant hugs and need for hand-holding too much for them? Were you too much for the-…
“Where ya been girlie?” You hear a familiar voice say as you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. A few other smiling faces not too far behind,what if…they were fake smiles? What if they were just being nice… And what if your mind just shut the fuck up? . . . Everything seems to happen too quickly. Break and lunch seemed too short, and you barely spoke a word. Of course they were worried, you had barely smiled at all this whole week and now you were practically going mute. Everything was so tiring, the intimidating circles underneath your eyes proved it, but even when things got this bad you managed to smile through it. Now?
Now it was already the last period, Art. You loved Art. The beautifully coloured walls, the papers you organised just yesterday…yesterday. And Miss Williams You loved Miss Williams, she was genuinely a funny and caring person. You definitely didn’t see her as a mother figure. Definitely not obsessed with her, no.
Not at all. As soon as your friends hurried over to their lessons you feel a wave of annoyance wash over you. One thing you didn’t like about Art class is that you had to sit next to him. Damian Wayne. It also made you feel a bit guilty as to why, for no reason at all, you did not like that rich boy. Maybe it was jealousy? Yeah that’s probably it. “...why don’t you take a seat.” Miss Williams' voice once again had stopped you from staring. God you have such a bad staring problem don’t you? It was worse since he was also staring at you…well more like glaring. Maybe he doesn’t like you either, what a comforting thought.
If there was one word you’d use to describe him is unbothered. Or maybe he was just stuck up and arrogant…or maybe that was just your general view of any rich boy. Especially the rich boy.
…
Shit. You were staring again weren’t you? It was obvious since he was looking back with a guarded expression. Your head snapped to your pretty much empty paper, you were supposed to be doing a sketch that represented how you felt. How did you feel? Bored? Sad? Your paper was empty, nothing but eraser shavings and pencil smudges. Empty…
“So like I’ve been saying…�� Say? Speaking? Oh. Right, where were you?
Your amazing, lovely, sweet teacher (okay maybe you were a little bit obsessed) was talking about an art project. An art project you already knew about a month prior due to being a part of the art club. So you were very prepared for the words.
“It has to be with the person you're sitting next to.” Words that would’ve sent you into a spiral if you hadn’t known already. You turn around to a brunette boy in the corner making an exaggerated sad face as he mouthed something you couldn’t make out. His antics made you laugh, usually, but right now even smiling was too hard.
God, you were disappointing weren’t you? A melody of complaints and groans fill up the room, even the boy next to you sighed. Ouch. But fair enough, it was clear you two did not have a liking towards one another. He was also one of the few other student from the Art club that knew of the project, so yeah the reaction kinda hurt. AND he rolled his eyes? Yeah. Definitely against this guy. With a scowl on your face, you turn back to your paper. Still empty. You don’t know how long you stare at it for since the bell had just rang and everyone was hurrying out. UnFortunatley for you, due to not completing the work you needed to stay behind for a bit.
The clothes on your back felt heavier than needed when you heard your name being called out.
You would like to be one of those students that don’t care what their teachers say but you simply could not be.
It’s too expensive of an attitude, one that went way past your budget. Lets hope that the tears don’t start to pour, because being shouted at by her? Pretty sure your heart would fail. It’d be even worse since Damian was here…well more like he was lingering out the door.
His footsteps were always so quiet, like a ninja or something.
“You there?”
…were you?
You nod. “You know your paper’s empty right sweetheart?” her southern accent obvious in her words. You nod. “I could get you in trouble y’know that?” Your nails dig into your palm before your answer. Nod. A small silence followed before her expression softened and she sighed. “Get some rest, lovely. I’ll see ya next week?” That’s the thing, were you going to make it to next week? Your nails pressed harder into your flesh and you managed to open your mouth and make out one word. “Yeah…” and you hope your voice didn’t crack because all you could do at the moment was turn around and walk out.
The mask you so desperately needed to stay was cracking by the second. It was so hard to speak -when she was being so nice- at all. To you it was clear that she was frustrated, you didn’t want to disappoint her. Please no. God no.
You were pathetic. Hopefully he couldn’t tell.
.
. Friday 3:09pm (third person)
. Damian stood there, hands in pockets as he looked at the girl. Something was obviously wrong, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
But this was also the same girl that would leave the room he was in, stare and give him weird looks.
So to put it simply, he didn’t really care nor bothered to ask. His presence had always been so daunting to her, ever since he first joined. There was always something that put her off. The awkward tension had washed away any sentimental emotion she was feeling. There was a certain level of resentment she felt when looking at the difference in the uniforms. Even though they both wore the same school uniforms, he just looked more expensive, sleek and clean. His pants were probably tailored and not from fucking target. His shirt was made from a fabric that wasn’t see-through and it looked like he had a proper tie instead of a clip on one. It made her stomach twist and face burn with embarrassment. I mean the reason she wore pants with the uniform instead of a skirt wasn’t just because of comfortability, it was because you’d have to buy a specific skirt that’d cost money. Money her parents didn’t have. So instead she opted for some simple black pants that she either thrifted or bought at target. She didn’t remember. Anyway, enough about the uniforms. She walked a few steps behind him, waving bye to her friends as she passed them in the hallway. .
. Friday 3:17 pm (second person)
. Your phone stared back at you, your mothers contact displayed. Damian was still just a few steps in front, waiting. A few minutes prior both of you decided to go to his place, there was no way he was stepping anywhere near yours. It was too dangerous of a place for a kid like him. And you were also pretty sure he’d get kidnapped, he was a Wayne afterall. But that meant calling your mother. The phone rang for a few seconds before you heard her tired voice. Tired.“Hi Mom…” you bit back the urge to call her mama as she responded with a low hum. “I have a school thing, do you think you can pick up the others?” You were already tense enough as is but the next few words made you want to throw up. “I’ll have your dad pick ‘em up sweetie. He’s back in Gotham.” … Maybe going to Wayne Manor isn’t such a bad idea. Before your mother could ask about this school thing you cut the call. Your arm fell limp at your side as you walked to where Damian was standing.
Your heart beat ringed in your ears, she sounded so happy saying that. Snap. “…” Did this motherfucker just snap his fingers to get you attention? You looked towards his direction, only for him to be walking away. You followed him towards a car, a car that made you feel even smaller than you already did. This was going to be a long few weeks .
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At least you were away from home for a while.
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This was weird and awkward! So awkward. Neither of you liked each other, neither of you ever spoke to one another and now you were sitting in his dads fancy car. Could a car even be this size?
As you felt the car stop and you could barely move. Sure you had seen Wayne manors in pictures, videos online and such-but to be this close? It looked surreal, to your. An extensive garden with multiple large animal-shaped bushes. Even from the car you can tell the level of detail and work that was put in building this timeless structure. You wish you could say it awed you but instead it just made you feel more insecure and dirty. It was even worse that Damian just got up and walked towards the entrance, no appreciation for such beautiful architecture. … Oh right. This was his home. A place he saw and lived in everyday..
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Each step you took you could feel the unease start to creep in, you held on to your bag tighter. Like it was going to help in this nerve-wracking situation.
The doors towered over you, the dark oak such a pretty contrast to the light stone. It ade your stomach twist as the inside revealed literal heaven. A large chandelier hung above what looked to be a…ballroom? It was a mix of modern and an old-money style, the bottom floor was very open. It felt empty and full at the same time, you squeezed the shoulder strap of your bag. You were right…you were out of place. It made you feel dirty and small. Damian just looked like he fit in? Now look at you, there was an obvious difference. And you hated it. Why did you have to do this? Why was the universe out to get you? The art project required you to get to know your partner. You were supposed to draw a portrait with the person your paired up with but it has to represent them, so, like, if your partner’s favourite colour was blue maybe you’d draw/paint the portrait using only blue. Get the gist? So obviously you were going to fail. .
.Friday 3:22 pm
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You sat at the stretched out table, something you thought only existed in movies and haunted mansions. And you were pretty sure a building that looked like how the Wayne manor did, it was going to be haunted. His sharp green eyes not moving from yours. Was this a staring contest? Cause you were pretty sure you were going to win if it was. “So…” You clear your throat, god you were going to throw up. “Do you like cookies?” Damian asked, his question throwing you off. “Uh…uhm…” Did you have to stutter in a moment like this? “Yeah?” “Okay.” He then called out for a man named ‘Pennyworth’, no way that was someone's name. As you looked up again an old lanky man appeared behind Damian, the same one that had driven the car. This was a very weird situation, asking someone to get cookies for you? An old person? Wasn’t that rude? Even if he was a servant…or do they call him a butler? .
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The cookies were awesome though, delicious, amazing-they were just really good. Now back to the nightmare of socialising. “Are…cookies your favourite?” You asked, spinning the pencil in your hand. He just shrugged. This was getting nowhere obviously but you might as well get your sketchbook out. The zipper was stuck for a second, adding to your embarrassment, before you opened your bag. .
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So far all you had was that he liked animals, and the colour black. This sucked. No more cookies you thought to yourself as you looked at the plate, a few beige crumbs left. It would be rude not to put it away right? Or would he just have ‘Pennyworth’ come collect it. “I can…I can put it away for you?” For some reason this caught him off guard. He narrowed his eyes and just shook his head “I will.” … Did you do something wrong? What was with his tone? Did he think you’d infect the plate or something?
…
You close your eyes, deep breaths. Just like yesterday…you could still remember the way your heart dropped and ear rang. The way the sound echoed through your ears, the sound of the body. Thump. Thump. It was so clear you could practically hear it in front of you- …you opened your eyes. It was a cat. .
.(guys this sucks so bad, I’m sorry i’m so lazy)
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Damian stood there, in the kitchen holding the plate with a blank but proud expression. “I think I did well.” “Yes Master Damian. Your hospitality skills are improving” Alfred answered, not any true emotion behind the words. .
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“His name is Alfred.” You nodded, the cat now sitting by your legs. You added animal lover to the list. But other than that this was going nowhere. All he knew about you was that you liked the colour green. . .(I’m sorry if you don’t like the colour green :( ) . Now this was the most embarrassing thing ever. Why would they try to drive you home? Were they trying to embarrass you? Trying to get their cars damaged?
“No-it’s alright! Really, I can just take the bus” “Nonsense-” “No! It’s fine…I don’t wanna be a problem.” You didn’t like cutting the old man off but honestly? There was no way, these people wouldn’t survive anywhere near such an area… If only you knew.
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A/N: So fucking sorry this sucks. It’s kind of rushed and ugh. Schools sucked any whimsy out of me and I’m so de-motivated, I promise it will get better. Lore WILL be revealed I pinky promise. Just give me time I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a F!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D
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@pix-stuff @kitsuneton @hoforfictionalmen-andwomen @itwaszzmoon
#m3v loves you#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne#anxious!reader#fem!reader#damian wayne is trying#fic#sucks so bad ik#batfamily x reader
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Dial Tone 4 | Matt Rempe
- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader
❪ FEM! ❫
───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────
𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.
𖥻 PART ONE HERE. PART TWO HERE. PART THREE HERE. 3.4k words
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
The reality of everything started to settle in. I’d been so caught up in the whirlwind of emotions, from surprise to anger to cautious reconciliation, that I hadn’t fully considered what came next.
Sooner or later, I’d have to tell Matt my name. My real name.
The thought sent a ripple of unease through me. Would it change things between us? Up until now, our friendship—our whatever-this-was—had existed in this weird, nickname-protected bubble. “Manhattan” and “San Diego” were fun, safe, and detached from the weight of real identities. Stripping that away felt… vulnerable.
What if things got awkward? What if he thought less of me somehow? What if putting a name to who I was made everything feel too serious?
I chewed on my lip, glancing at my phone. I stared at the screen for what felt like forever, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Finally, I typed a single word and hit send.
Thursday, May 30, 2024 Today, 9:55AM ME: Y/N.
The message sent, and I felt my pulse quicken. Before I could overthink it, I followed up with another.
ME: Y/N Y/L/N.
I stared at the messages, anxiety bubbling up in my chest. Would he say anything? Would it even matter to him?
A few seconds passed, then my phone buzzed.
MATT: Well, Y/N Y/L/N… it’s nice to finally meet you. 😊
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, staring at his response. It was simple—lighthearted, even—but it melted away some of the tension I’d been carrying since I pressed send.
ME: You don’t think it’s weird? MATT: What? Knowing your name? Definitely not. ME: It changes everything, doesn’t it? MATT: Only in the best way.
His words made me pause. I hadn’t expected him to say that, and the knot of worry in my chest started to loosen.
MATT: I don’t know what you thought would happen, but it’s not like I suddenly see you differently. MATT: You’re still San Diego to me. Just now I can call you Y/N and actually picture you saying, “Hi, Matt.”
I laughed softly, earning a curious glance from my seatmate. I turned back to my phone.
ME: I’ll have you know I say “Hi, Manhattan” with way more charm.
His reply was instant.
MATT: Prove it.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.
The bus pulled into the airport terminal, the cityscape shrinking behind us as we piled off to grab our bags. The reality of leaving New York hit me all over again. As much as I’d needed this trip to end, the thought of putting an ocean of distance between us now felt strange.
As I waited for my bag to come off the bus, my phone buzzed again.
MATT: Hey, Y/N. MATT: I mean it. I’m glad you told me.
Something about seeing my name next to his words gave me a strange, fluttery feeling.
ME: I’m glad I did too. MATT: So, now that I finally know your name, does this mean I don’t have to call you San Diego anymore? ME: I mean, you could stop… but wouldn’t that ruin the fun? MATT: You make a good point. Besides, I’ve gotten kind of attached to it.
I smiled at his response, shifting my bag on my shoulder as we filed into the terminal.
ME: So I’m still San Diego, huh? MATT: Always.
I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen. After all this, it still felt surreal—like I’d been holding my breath for weeks, and now that the truth was out, I wasn’t sure what to do next. But Matt’s steady, easy replies reminded me why I trusted him in the first place.
ME: for the record, you’re still Manhattan. MATT: I’d be offended if I wasn’t.
I laughed softly to myself, earning a curious glance from my friend as we stopped at the check-in line.
ME: You’re taking this all surprisingly well, you know. MATT: What can I say? I’m full of surprises. 😉 ME: You are a lot more chill than I expected for someone with your reputation. MATT: Oh? What were you expecting? A cocky NHL player? ME: Something like that.
I could practically hear his laugh through the phone when his reply came.
MATT: Guess I’ll have to work on being less humble.
The group started moving forward, and I stuffed my phone in my pocket. But even as I focused on getting through security, I couldn’t stop the small, steady smile on my face.
For the first time since I’d landed in New York, I felt like I wasn’t just trying to keep up with the chaos. Instead, I was leaving with something new—something unexpected, but maybe exactly what I needed.
As we settled into the airport lounge, I scrolled absentmindedly through my phone, rereading Matt’s last message and trying not to smile too much. My friend plopped down beside me with a sigh, setting her carry-on bag at her feet. She didn’t say anything at first, but then she turned to me with a pointed look, her arms crossed.
“Okay, girl, what has been happening?” she said, her tone dripping with exasperation. “Your phone has sent you into about 30 different mood swings this weekend, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you giggling at texts for however long. Spill.”
I blinked at her, caught off guard. “What? Nothing’s happening.”
“Don’t even try it,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been glued to your phone since we landed, and I know that dopey little smile you get when you’re texting someone. It’s not just random, so don’t even pretend it’s about homework or whatever.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but her stare told me I wasn’t getting out of this. Sighing, I tucked my phone into my pocket and leaned back in my seat. “Fine. But just—promise you won’t freak out, okay?”
“Why would I freak out?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well…” I hesitated, picking at the edge of my sleeve. “There’s this guy I’ve been talking to. For a while, actually.”
Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward like she was ready to pounce on every word. “Oh my god. Keep going. Who is he? Do I know him?”
“No, you don’t know him,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “We met online a few months ago. He’s…different. In a good way. Really sweet, really funny. Athletic- Big fighter. We just…clicked, I guess.”
She stared at me for a moment, her expression unreadable, before she let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wait. Is this why you’ve been weird about your phone this whole time? Are you like—are you falling for him?”
“What? No!” I said, a little too loudly, earning a couple of glances from the people around us. “It’s not like that. We’re just—friends. Close friends.”
She smirked, not buying it for a second. “Right. Sure. And you’re giggling at his texts because…friendship.”
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“You like him,” she teased, nudging my shoulder. “And it’s okay! I mean, if he’s as great as you’re making him sound, I say go for it.”
I hesitated, the weight of everything I wasn’t telling her pressing down on me. “It’s complicated,” I admitted finally. “There’s…a lot about his life that I didn’t know until recently. It’s been a little overwhelming, but he’s trying to make things right.”
“Overwhelming how?” she asked, her tone softening.
“Just—stuff I wasn’t expecting,” I said vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t push for more. “But I really do trust him. And I think…I think we’re figuring it out.”
Her smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze my hand. “If he’s making you happy, that’s what matters. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too, okay?”
I nodded, grateful that she wasn’t prying any further. “Thanks,” I said quietly.
“Of course,” she said, sitting back in her chair. After a beat, though, her smirk returned. “So, do I get to see a picture of this mystery guy, or are you gonna keep me in suspense?”
“Not a chance,” I said, laughing despite myself.
“Ugh, fine,” she said, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “But just so you know, I’m rooting for you two.”
I smiled at her, my chest feeling a little lighter. Even if I couldn’t share the full truth, having someone in my corner still meant something.
The flight boarded without incident, and soon enough, we were cruising at altitude. I leaned against the window, watching clouds drift by like slow-moving waves. My friend was deeply engrossed in her e-reader, leaving me some space to think.
Despite our talk in the airport lounge, my mind was still tangled with everything that had happened this weekend. Meeting Matt—well, technically not meeting him—had turned my world sideways. For months, he’d been a name, a face, a voice on my phone. And now, knowing the full truth about who he was…it made everything feel real in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.
I kept my phone in my bag this time, deciding to let the weight of the weekend settle in silence. I couldn’t shake the strange mix of anticipation and hesitation coursing through me. Everything between Matt and me had shifted, and while I didn’t regret it, I wasn’t entirely sure what came next.
Leaning back in my seat, I watched the clouds stretch endlessly outside the window, their stillness contrasting with my swirling thoughts. My friend eventually glanced over, nudging me gently.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft.
I nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”
She looked at me like she didn’t quite believe it but let it go, her attention returning to her e-reader.
The rest of the flight passed in a blur, and before I knew it, we were landing back in San Diego. As the wheels touched down and the cabin filled with the familiar sounds of people gathering their things, I finally pulled out my phone.
ME: Landed safely.
His reply came almost instantly.
MATT: Glad you didn’t get stuck. How was the flight? ME: Fine so far. My friend’s still giving me side-eye because I wouldn’t show her your picture. MATT: Why not? I’m very photogenic.
I laughed quietly, shaking my head.
ME: Because she’d figure out who you are in about 0.2 seconds, genius. MATT: Fair point. Can’t have you blowing my cover. MATT: (Also, now I’m wondering what you told her about me.) ME: Just that we’ve been friends for a while. Nothing too crazy. MATT: You didn’t tell her how charming I am? I’m offended. ME: Obviously not. I don’t want her stealing you. MATT: Oh, so I’m yours now?
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks warmed slightly at his teasing.
ME: Don’t push it, Manhattan.
The chat went quiet after that, and I rested my head back against the seat, letting my thoughts wander.
As strange as this weekend had been, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had changed something between us—for the better. Knowing who he really was hadn’t pushed me away. If anything, it had made me more curious about the person behind the nickname, the person who’d become such a big part of my life without me even realising it.
And maybe…just maybe, that was worth holding onto.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
Two months passed in a blur, but Matt and I never lost touch. If anything, our conversations became more frequent. The texts ranged from playful teasing to long, thoughtful exchanges that stretched late into the night.
The dynamic between us felt natural, easy—but there was an undercurrent of something new now. A spark of anticipation I couldn’t quite ignore, like we were both waiting for something to happen.
One night, as I sat cross-legged on my bed, scrolling through TikTok to procrastinate on my homework, my phone buzzed.
Tuesday, July 9, 2024 Today, 4:17PM MATT: Big game tonight. Send me some good luck vibes or I’ll blame you if we lose.
I smirked, typing back.
ME: Wow, no pressure or anything. Good luck, though. Knock ‘em dead, #73. MATT: You really do your homework, huh? ME: You’ve only mentioned your jersey number, like, a thousand times. Hard to forget. MATT: Good. Means you’re paying attention. MATT: Seriously, though. This one’s big. ME: You’ll crush it. You always do.
There was a pause before his next text came through.
MATT: You have way too much faith in me, San Diego. ME: Somebody’s gotta keep you humble. MATT: That’s rich, coming from the person who called me a “big fighter” to her friend on a bus.
I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at the memory.
ME: You’re never letting that go, are you? MATT: Never. It’s iconic.
I grinned, and before I could second-guess myself, I typed:
ME: Let me know how the game goes.
After the game, he did. It became a pattern—him updating me after games, sometimes venting about a loss or celebrating a win, always with his signature blend of humor and charm.
One night, as I lounged on my couch watching Netflix, he FaceTimed me out of the blue.
“Wow, bold,” I said as I answered, holding my phone up so he could see my raised brow.
“You’re the one who said to call if I needed to rant,” he shot back, flopping onto what looked like his hotel bed.
“Rough night?”
He sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “We lost in overtime. It sucked.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “Overtime losses are brutal.”
“See? This is why I call you. You get it.”
I laughed. “What, none of your teammates understand your pain?”
“They’re not nearly as nice to me as you are,” he teased, flashing a grin that made my stomach do a little flip.
“You should tell them to start a support group for overpaid, overhyped athletes,” I quipped, earning a mock gasp.
“Wow, okay. Remind me why I called you again?”
“You like the abuse.”
He laughed, and the sound was so warm and familiar that I couldn’t help but smile.
We talked for another half hour, the conversation meandering from hockey to his favorite restaurants in New York to a ridiculous story about his teammate locking himself out of their bus. By the time we hung up, I felt lighter, like I’d just spent an evening with an old friend.
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
A few weeks later, the inevitable topic came up.
Wednesday, August 7, 2024 Today, 10;54AM MATT: You know, it’s kind of wild we’ve never actually met in person. ME: Yeah, well, blame geography. MATT: Or your stubborn refusal to visit New York. ME: My refusal? Pretty sure you’re the one who hasn’t set foot in California. MATT: Fair point. But guess what? ME: What? MATT: I might be able to change that.
I sat up a little straighter, my heart skipping.
ME: Oh? MATT: Ducks game in Anaheim next month. Thinking about extending the trip and finally seeing what all the hype is about. ME: The hype about what? California or me? MATT: Yes.
I laughed, my cheeks warming.
ME: Well, if you do, let me know. MATT: You’ll actually make time for me?
Matt and I continued our nightly texts and FaceTimes, our conversations slipping into an easy rhythm that made it hard to believe we’d never actually met in person. It felt like we’d known each other for years, but there was always this unspoken awareness hovering between us—something deeper, something waiting to shift.
One night, after a particularly exhausting day, I flopped onto my bed and propped my phone against a pillow. I was mid-scroll through Instagram when his FaceTime request came through.
“Hello, stranger,” I said, answering as I smoothed my hair self-consciously.
“Stranger? Don’t act like you haven’t been blowing up my phone all day,” Matt replied, his grin softening the mock accusation.
“Excuse me,” I shot back, raising a brow. “You’re the one who texted me six times about whether it was socially acceptable to eat ice cream for dinner.”
“And you never answered,” he said with a smirk. “I had to make the executive decision myself. Cookies and cream, if you’re wondering.”
“Bold choice.” I laughed, settling more comfortably against my pillows. “You’re such an athlete.”
“Don’t tell my nutritionist,” he quipped, then hesitated, his grin fading just slightly. “So, uh…big news.”
I tilted my head. “Oh? What’s up?”
“After the, uh, game in Anaheim, I have 2 weeks off” he said casually, though I could tell from the way he shifted that it wasn’t as casual as he was trying to make it seem.
“Oh, cool,” I replied, waiting to see where he was going with this.
“Yeah, and…I might stick around a couple of days after.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, check out the area. Grab coffee or something.”
My lips twitched. “Check out the area, huh?”
“Yeah.” His tone was light, but his eyes held a flicker of uncertainty. “I hear San Diego’s nice this time of year.”
“San Diego’s nice every time of year,” I teased.
“Well, then maybe you should show me around. Unless you’re too busy or something,” he added quickly, like he was trying to give me an out.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, pretending to mull it over. “I mean, you’re kind of a big deal. I wouldn’t want to blow your cover.”
He chuckled. “You’re not getting out of this that easily, Y/N. I’m serious. Let’s hang out.”
“Fine,” I relented with an exaggerated sigh. “But you’ll have to wear one of those cliché disguises. You know, baseball hat, oversized sunglasses, maybe a fake mustache.”
“A fake mustache?” he repeated, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m just saying, Manhattan,” I said, smirking, “it’s either that or I’m going to start charging for all the selfies you’ll get asked for.”
“Wow, you’re really looking out for me,” he replied dryly.
“Always,” I said, matching his tone.
There was a brief pause, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “So, it’s a plan then?”
“Guess it is.”
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
Over the next few days, Matt dropped increasingly unsubtle hints about his "extended trip."
Wednesday, August 21, 2024 Today, 1:40PM MATT: What’s the best coffee spot in San Diego? Asking for a friend. ME: For a friend, huh? MATT: Yep. Definitely not for me. ME: Nice try. But you’re going to have to trust me on this one. I’ve got a spot in mind. MATT: Should I be nervous? ME: Absolutely.
The closer we got to the date, the more I caught myself overthinking. He hadn’t called it a date, which was probably for the best. After all, we’d built this incredible friendship, and the last thing I wanted was to ruin it with unrealistic expectations.
But still, the idea of seeing him—of finally meeting him in person—made my heart race in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
The night before the game, he texted me.
Thursday, September 5, 2024 Today, 2:18PM MATT: Game day tomorrow. Nervous? ME: Are you? MATT: Always. But I’ve got good luck on my side. ME: Oh yeah? What’s your secret? MATT: You, obviously.
I stared at the screen, my stomach flipping.
ME: Smooth. MATT: You like it. ME: Maybe. MATT: Just make sure you’re free the day after. No backing out now. ME: Who said I’m backing out? MATT: Just covering my bases.
I smiled to myself, shaking my head.
The next evening, I watched his game from my couch, my nerves hitting harder than I expected. I hadn’t told anyone—not even my best friend—about Matt’s trip, and now it felt like this huge secret I was carrying.
He scored a goal in the second period, and I actually cheered out loud, startling my roommate.
“What’s with you?” she asked, raising a brow.
“Uh, nothing,” I said, my face heating up.
When the game ended in a win, I half-expected him to text me right away, but he didn’t. It wasn’t until almost midnight that my phone buzzed.
MATT: So, you still up? ME: Maybe. MATT: Coffee tomorrow? ME: Sure. MATT: Finally.
The next morning, I arrived at the coffee shop earlier than I needed to, nerves making it impossible to stay still. I checked my reflection in my phone camera for the hundredth time, then pretended to scroll through Instagram to keep my hands busy.
When the door finally opened and I saw Matt walk in, my breath caught. He was taller than I’d imagined, his broad frame filling the doorway, but the easy grin on his face was exactly the same.
“Hey, San Diego,” he said, stopping in front of me.
And for the first time in months, I felt like we were exactly where we were supposed to be. My voice steady despite the way my heart raced. “Hey, Manhattan.”
───── ❝ ❞ ─────
to be continued... hehehe
#okay in the first couple parts I tried to make it lineup with actual game dates but this one I can't be bothered so shutup#I think this story will go to 6 lol#fanfic#nhl#hockey#hockey players#NHL player#matt rempe#Matthew rempe#nhl fanfiction#fanfictions#national hockey league#rempe 73#matt rempe 73#NHL fanfic#nhl hockey#hockey fanfiction#hockey fanfic#nyrangers#New York rangers#New York rangers fanfic#nyrangers fanfic#matt tempe x reader#x reader#matt tempe x yn#matt tempe yn
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heart on the window #2 (m) | ksj
title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: Your life takes a wild turn after discovering what you believe is Seokjin's risqué secret, only for the following nights to leave you doubting your own reality. Was it loneliness and a shattered heart that conjured this delusion? As you try to move on, leaving your assumptions behind, you and Seokjin grow closer—until a late-night slip-up unravels everything... literally. note: it took me almost a month to update i have been busy at work.; i've edited this but there still may be some grammatical errors so apologies in advanced. warnings: roommate!Seokjin being such a green flag, adult content live streaming (camwork), explicit solo masturbation (from jin and also reader POV), voyeurism, descriptive use of toys, dirty talk, reader's emotional turmoil, Seokjin being perceptive and teasing, confrontation, sexual frustration, sexual tension. mild language, some implied sexual fantasizing, jin POV in the last quarter of the chapter drop date: December 20th, 2024, 12:00pm pst word count: 9.6k chapter 1 | chapter 3 crossposted on ao3 here
–
That good sleep that you were anticipating?
Gone.
Were you able to get some sleep last night?
Absolutely not.
Every time you’d close your eyes, all you would see is THAT: Seokjin Kim, sitting in his chair, stroking his cock with slow, deliberate motions, his face caught somewhere between bliss and control while a virtual audience eagerly watched.
Oh god, what the fuck did you get yourself into?
You can’t just continue living here like you didn’t see that.
Absolutely no way–
“Did you get a good sleep last night?”
The sound of Seokjin’s voice slices through the chaotic mind-fuck cluster of your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. You blink, startled, your mind scrambling for something—anything—to say.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was…nice,” you reply, though your tone is as flat as week-old opened grapefruit Spin Drift you’ve left out on the counter countless times in the past.
Seokjin chuckles, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, giving you a knowing look. “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he remarks before turning back toward the kitchen. You watch him as he grabs a carton of eggs, a frying pan, and other utensils with easy confidence, as though nothing is out of the ordinary.
Meanwhile, your head is spinning.
Does he have any idea what you saw? No, of course not. How could he? You clutch your mug of coffee tighter, willing yourself to keep calm and act normal, even though “normal” feels like a foreign concept right now.
Seokjin cracks an egg against the side of the pan with one hand, a skill that feels unnecessarily showy, and tosses the shell in the trash without missing a beat. “So, what’s your plan for today?”
“My plan?”
“Yeah, you know. Moving in, settling down. Unpacking those boxes.” He gestures with the spatula toward the pile of boxes you had left in the living room yesterday. “Or are you just going to live out of them for the next few months?”
You force out a weak laugh, trying to mask your unease. “I’ll get to them soon. Or well, eventually.”
Seokjin glances at you over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, you sure you’re okay? You seem… distracted.”
Distracted? That’s putting it lightly. You practically choked on your own thoughts all night, trying to process what you’d stumbled upon. Now here he is, looking every bit as composed and charming as ever, completely unaware of how he’s upended your mental state.
“Just a lot on my mind from the shit I’ve been going through,” you say vaguely, hoping he’ll just think about what you’ve previously told him and won’t press further.
“Fair enough,” he replies, flipping the eggs in the pan with a practiced flick of his wrist. “By the way, if you need anything for your room, feel free to let me know. I’ve got some spare furniture in storage if you need extra shelves or whatever.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, staring at your coffee as if it holds the answers to your predicament.
You spend the rest of breakfast in tense silence, with Seokjin humming softly to himself as he cooks. Every so often, you catch yourself stealing a glance at him—his broad shoulders, the black t-shirt that loosely fits his body, his easy movements, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead. And every time, your mind cruelly throws you back to that image from last night.
You barely touch your toast, and when Seokjin finally sets his plate in the sink and announces he’s heading out to work in the office since he has some meetings later this afternoon, you feel a wave of relief so strong it’s almost embarrassing.
As the front door clicks shut behind him, you slump against the counter, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
What are you going to do? How are you supposed to face him every day without your mind going there?
If there’s anything that helps clear your mind, it’s organizing. The chaos of your thoughts seems to calm when you’re sorting, categorizing, and arranging. And thank god you have a lot of that to do right now with all the boxes cluttering your room and spilling into the living room.
Determined to regain some sense of control, you dive into it. First, the essentials—clothing, toiletries, and the work necessities you hope to use again someday. You find a rhythm: open, sort, fold, stack, repeat. The act becomes a form of meditation, letting you focus on the task rather than… other things.
After about two hours, just as you’re folding a stack of sweaters, your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call. Your dear best friend Yunjin’s photo flashes across the screen.
You swipe to answer, her bright, cheerful face filling the screen instantly.
“Hey girl!!” she chirps, holding her phone up at an angle that shows a bustling street lined with shops and people.
“Hey, Yunjin!” you say, unable to hide your grin. “Haven’t seen your beautiful face in awhile. What are you up to?”
“I’m out shopping in Japantown,” she says, spinning her phone around to give you a quick view of colorful storefronts and an adorable bakery. “And I saw this cute Moomin plush keychain. It reminded me of you, so I’m gonna gift it you!”
A Gift?!
Your eyes widen. “N-No! It’s fine!”
Yunjin’s smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, stop it. I want to. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to go visit you.” Yunjin lives a couple of hours away from you, so you don’t get to see her as often as you used to during college.
Despite her kindness, you feel a pang of guilt. Being unemployed has left you hyperaware of money, and the idea of your friend spending her hard-earned cash on you—without expecting anything in return—feels unbearable. But that’s just how she is. That’s just…Yunny.
“Really, you don’t have to,” you say, even as a part of you knows arguing with her is pointless.
“Too late!” she sing-songs, flipping the camera around to show the tiny Moomin plush with its sweet little face and scarf. “Tell me this isn’t so you.”
It is. It absolutely is.
You sigh, shaking your head but unable to keep from smiling. “Okay, fine. But at least let me treat you to a coffee.”
“Deal,” Yunjin says with a wink before turning the camera back to her. “So, how’s it going with your new place? Settling in okay?”
Your mind flashes to Seokjin, to the events of last night, and you swallow hard. “Uh, yeah. It’s… nice. Just getting things sorted.”
Yunjin squints at the screen, her expression turning suspicious. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”
Should you tell her? Absolutely not. She’d think the whole situation was bizarre—and worse, she’d probably call you weird for sticking around to watch him do that. You quickly decide to change the topic.
“Yunny, is there really no way I can stay with you for a bit of time?” you groan, leaning against the pile of clothes you’d been folding.
Yunjin’s brow furrows. “Oh, why? You don’t like your new place?”
“It’s… fine,” you hedge, glancing toward your door as if Jin might somehow overhear. “I just… I don’t know. It’d be nice to have you around again like old times.”
The truth is, you don’t want to leave this city. It’s the only place where the kind of opportunities you’re looking for exist. And besides, you love it here—the energy, the atmosphere, the food scene. Nothing else in or out of state even comes close.
But if moving meant getting away from the strange situation you’ve landed yourself in, maybe you’d consider it.
“Uh, well, sadly, no,” Yunjin says with a slight pout. “I thought one of my housemates was moving out to live with her boyfriend, but it looks like that was all talk. She’s staying put for now. They probably wouldn’t be okay with temporary couch surfing either.”
That makes sense.
“Oh,” you reply, deflated. “Okay.”
“Hmm.” Yunjin narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but thankfully, she doesn’t press further. “Well, I can’t wait to see your new place. We’ll do a housewarming soon, okay?”
“Yeah, definitely,” you say, nodding along, though the thought of hosting a gathering here makes your stomach twist. How exactly would you explain Seokjin’s... side hustle to anyone if they happened to find out?
“Alright, I’ve gotta go,” Yunjin says, the bustling noise behind her growing louder. “I’m supposed to get lunch with Hanni and Stephen. Love you!”
“Love you too,” you reply, waving at the screen before the call ends.
You set your phone down, a mix of warmth and guilt settling over you. It’s comforting to know Yunjin has your back, but it also serves as a painful reminder of how far you’ve fallen. No job, no stability, and now living with a guy who… well.
You shake your head, refusing to let yourself spiral. There’s too much to do, too many boxes to unpack. For now, you focus on the small wins—folding clothes, sorting books, reclaiming a sense of order.
One step at a time.
You throw yourself into unpacking and organizing, letting the steady rhythm of your tasks distract you from your swirling thoughts. The hours slip by as you arrange books on shelves, hang up clothes, and shuffle boxes around to make the room feel less like a storage unit and more like a home.
By the time the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, you’ve made solid progress. Your room is starting to look presentable—cozy, even. The hum of activity keeps your mind occupied, though every now and then, stray thoughts about last night sneak in.
The sound of the front door unlocking jolts you out of your reverie. A moment later, Seokjin walks in, dressed in business attire, his tie slightly loosened and his hair tousled in that effortlessly charming way that makes it clear why his stream fans are obsessed with him.
“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as he sets his bag on the counter. “How was your day?”
“It was good,” you reply, wiping your dust-covered hands on your jeans. “Got most of my stuff sorted out.”
He glances toward your room and nods approvingly. “Nice. Looks like you’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, I figured I’d get it all done before it starts to feel like a chore.”
Seokjin chuckles as he loosens his tie completely and drapes it over a chair. “Smart move. I should probably take a page out of your book. My closet’s a disaster zone right now.”
“Really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the messy type.”
He shrugs, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s organized chaos. I know where everything is… mostly.”
You laugh softly, some of the tension you’d been holding onto easing as the conversation flows naturally. For the first time since last night, you don’t feel quite so on edge around him.
“Anyway,” he says, taking a sip of water and leaning against the counter, “I’m gonna change out of this and make something for dinner. You hungry?”
“Starving,” you admit, realizing you hadn’t eaten much while caught up in organizing.
“Cool. Give me like ten minutes,” he says with a grin, already heading toward his room.
As he disappears down the hallway, you let out another breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s going to take some time to feel normal here, but for now, small moments like this help.
Back to one step at a time.
Yes… one step at a time.
Jin reappears in casual clothes—sweatpants and a loose tee that somehow still manages to look good on him—and heads straight to the kitchen. You sit on the couch, doomscrolling on social media to consume random content to keep you busy in the meantime.
The comforting sound of clattering pots and pans fills the apartment, accompanied by the savory aroma of something delicious in the making.
When he calls out, “Hope you like pasta carbonara,” you can’t help but feel grateful he’s even making you food.
He doesn’t have to do this, but it’s nice that he is.
He sets the steaming pan on top of a hot pad on the table, followed by two plates, forks, and a sprinkle of grated cheese in a small dish. “Voilà. Gourmet dining at its finest.”
This actually looks like high quality italian restaurant quality presentation.
You take a seat, eyeing the dish appreciatively. “Woah? Fancy. Do you cook like this all the time?”
He grins as he spoons a generous serving onto your plate. “Not always. I have a rotation: this, ramen, steak, kimchi jjigae, and… takeout. Lots of takeout.”
You laugh, grabbing your fork. “Sounds somewhat balanced.”
“I try to keep it balanced but,” he agrees, twirling pasta onto his fork. “I also work out a bit too.”
“Nice,”
In your mind, you’re thinking “yeah, you’ve seen him workout alright”
This is really going to eat at you at this rate.
The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the rich, creamy flavors of the pasta doing wonders for your mood. It feels surreal to be sitting here, sharing a meal with someone who, just days ago, you were convinced would be a terrible roommate.
The meal is delicious, better than you’d expected. For a while, you let yourself get lost in the comforting simplicity of eating—pasta twirling on your fork, the sauce aroma wafting up, the occasional clink of silverware against plates.
It feels… normal. Nice, even. But still, at the back of your mind, there’s a quiet storm brewing.
The night before keeps replaying in your head, uninvited and intrusive, like a broken record you can’t turn off. You glance at Seokjin as he eats, his features relaxed, his posture casual. How can he seem so normal when you know what he was doing less than 24 hours ago?
The mental tug-of-war begins: Should you just ignore it? Pretend it never happened? Or—
“So,” you blurt, interrupting your own thoughts, “what exactly do you do for work?”
Jin looks up, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “I work in marketing,” he says, reaching for his water.
You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Marketing for…?”
He grins, sensing your peaked interest. “Riot Games. You know, the League of Legends company?”
Your eyes widen. “No way! What! That’s so cool.”
That’s actually a pretty awesome career.
And so Seokjin of him.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. A lot of campaigns and community engagement stuff. It keeps me busy, but I like it. Games have always been my thing.”
That part doesn’t surprise you. Growing up, Jin was always glued to his Game Boy, computer or chattering about his latest high scores. This career seems like a natural fit for him.
“Of course, I remember that well,” you say, smiling. “Also explains the gaming setup.”
“The gaming setup?” Jin freezes for a fraction of a second, his fork hovering mid-air. His expression shifts from casual to guarded so quickly you almost miss it.
Shit.
You scramble to backtrack. “Uh, I just mean… you seem like the type to have a cool gaming setup, you know? Dual monitors, fancy keyboard, maybe some LED lights?”
His shoulders relax slightly, though his eyes remain sharp, watching you closely. “Haven’t shown you my room yet. How’d you know?”
“I didn’t,” you reply quickly, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a guess. I mean, come on, you work at Riot Games. Wouldn’t you have the gear to match?”
Jin tilts his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips before he leans back in his chair. “Actually,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, “I’ve been a bit shy to mention this, but… I’m also a Twitch streamer.”
You already knew this from prior snooping, so you gotta act surprised.
Your fork pauses mid-air. “Woah? You are?”
He nods, a little sheepish now, which is a rare look for him. “Yeah. My old roommate actually got me into it awhile back. It started as a way to unwind after work, but then it kinda… took off. Nothing crazy, but it’s been fun.”
You don’t think that 200,000 followers is something to not be impressed about. That is a decently big audience for someone who hasn’t been doing it for too long.
That sparks your curiosity. “Really? What do you stream?”
“Well, gaming mainly as you saw,” he says, shrugging. “Some League, Valorant… a bit of variety stuff when I feel like it. My audience isn’t huge, but it’s a solid little community to talk with.”
Audience, right.
Your mind flashes back to last night—the setup, the webcam, the comments streaming on the screen—and your stomach tightens. He wanted to hide this from you but still has more to uncover, but he’s so good at hiding it. Well, at least until you caught him yesterday.
You try to keep your expression neutral as you ask, “Isn’t it hard to balance with your job?”
Seokjin shakes his head. “Not really. Most of my streams are at night, after work. I mean, I’m already up, so I might as well do something productive, right?”
Productive, you think, the word ricocheting in your head. If only he knew…
“That’s… really cool,” you manage, keeping your tone even. “Do you think you’ll ever go full-time with it?”
He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Nah. I like streaming, but I don’t think I’d give up my day job for it. It’s more of a side hustle, you know? Keeps me busy and entertained.”
“Right,” you say, nodding. “That makes sense.”
“I’ll have to show it to you some time. Maybe even let you try the setup if you’re into games.”
Oh?
“Sure,” you say, nodding too eagerly. “That sounds fun. Though I’ve always been a Nintendo girl,”
“I do recall, and that’s fine by me. We could play Mario Kart!”
“That sounds like a lot of fun, Jin—”
The word slips out naturally, before you even realize it. You freeze mid-sentence, your lips parting as the familiar nickname hangs awkwardly in the air. You haven’t called him “Jin” since elementary school. It used to roll off your tongue back when you were kids, when he was just a goofy classmate you exchanged Pokémon cards with and competed against in dodgeball. But ever since reconnecting as adults, you’ve made a conscious effort to just refer to him by his full name, Seokjin. It felt more appropriate. More… grown-up.
And it created a boundary, which now feels undone by you calling him more casually. Curse you getting more comfortable with this man! His eyes widen slightly at the sound of it, his smile faltering for only a split second before softening into something warmer. “Jin, huh?” he muses, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t heard you call me that in years.”
You swallow, cheeks warming as you try to play it off casually. “Oh. Uh, sorry— I just—”
“You just what?” he teases gently, clearly enjoying your flustered state.
You groan, covering your face for a brief moment. “It just slipped out, okay? Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“Hmm.” His voice hums with amusement, and when you peek at him through your fingers, he’s looking at you with a fond expression that makes your stomach flip. “I don’t mind it, you know. Kinda like it, actually.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah,” he says simply, shrugging. “It’s nostalgic.”
There’s a pause as the two of you exchange a quiet glance, something unspoken settling in the air between you. For a moment, you swear his gaze lingers on you just a little too long.
“Well,” you mutter, trying to brush off the sudden tension. “If you don’t mind it, I guess I’ll start calling you Jin again.”
His smile widens into something bright and genuine, then chuckles. “Good! Doesn’t feel too weird anyways since my Twitch chat calls me Jin as well.”
And you were flustered over this for nothing.
The conversation moves on, but every time you say “Jin”, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place. You ignore it though, as his dirty secret continues to gnaw at your mind more than whatever he must be thinking.
Glancing at him as he finishes his pasta, a soft hum escaping him as he collects the plates.
You retreat to your room, bidding Jin a casual goodnight as he mentions his plans for the evening. “Gonna play some Elden Ring with my friends, and then stream a Pokémon randomized Nuzlocke at nine,” he says, grinning. “If you hear me yelling at any ungodly hour, just know it’s the RNG gods being cruel.”
“Good to know,” you reply with a small laugh before closing your door behind you.
Settling onto your bed, you decide to distract yourself with something immersive—Bakemonogatari. It’s been on your list for a long time, and felt like now would be a good time to watch it. The anime’s intricate dialogue and surreal visuals immediately pull you in, though it’s hard to focus completely with lingering thoughts of Jin playing games only a few walls away.
You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus on the screen. As the narrative deepens and the subtitles demand your full attention, your eyelids grow heavier. Soon, the soft glow of the laptop screen and the soothing cadence of the voice acting lull you into a deep sleep.
A good sleep.
The kind of sleep you’ve been craving after a long day of cleaning, unpacking, and organizing—a chance to reset and settle fully into this new chapter of your life.
Until a familiar sensation stirs you awake.
You blink blearily at the clock on your nightstand.
2:35 a.m.
Déjà vu hits you like a freight train. The thirst pulls you out of bed, an undeniable urge. With a groggy sigh, you shuffle out of your room and make your way to the kitchen.
The dim light from the hallway guides you as you grab a water bottle from under the sink. The cool plastic feels grounding in your hand as you twist the cap open and take a long, satisfying sip.
Refreshed, you glance around. It’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft whir of your thoughts.
And then your gaze instinctively drifts toward Jin’s room again.
Not for the wrong reasons! you tell yourself defensively. It’s just… you’re checking on him. Making sure he’s okay!
Right?
Your bare feet make the softest pats against the floor as you tiptoe a little closer to the hallway leading to Jin’s room. Sure enough, a familiar sliver of light leaks from the partially ajar door.
But something’s different this time.
You squint, leaning just enough to peek in.
There he is.
Seokjin sits cross-legged at his desk, headphones on, illuminated by the glow of his monitors. But instead of his usual casual attire or the polished look he had earlier, he’s wearing a pajama set. A blue pajama set covered in cartoon characters. The sight of him in something so unexpectedly cute throws you for a loop.
On the screen, the familiar pixelated world of Pokémon sprawls before him.
“Okay guys, I should end the live here,” he says cheerfully, his voice carrying through the quiet apartment. “But I’m almost at the Elite Four! This team I have right now is pretty solid, even if we lost Moon the Lunatone. I’ll get through the rival battle and stop there.”
Your jaw slackens.
Wait, what?
Where’s the camwork? The NSFW content? The explicit… everything you’d stumbled upon last night?
Confusion swirls in your chest as you scurry back to your room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. You lean against it, clutching the water bottle in both hands as your mind races.
What is going on here?
Had you… imagined it? No, that couldn’t be right. The vivid image of last night flashes through your mind unbidden, heat creeping up your neck as you recall every mortifying detail.
But now? He’s just streaming a Pokémon Nuzlocke like a completely normal, wholesome gamer.
Maybe you dreamed it…?
You sit on the edge of your bed, clutching the water bottle as if it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.
Maybe you were just seeing things last night.
The thought plants itself firmly in your mind, and as much as you try to swat it away, it lingers. You were exhausted yesterday. Between moving, unpacking, and the emotional whirlwind of losing your job and your relationship, maybe your mind just… played tricks on you.
Yeah, that must be it.
There’s no way you actually saw Jin doing that.
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m losing it,” you mutter under your breath.
Still, the memory feels so vivid. The faint glow of his screen, his movements, the soft noises—ugh, stop it! You shake your head, desperate to push the images out of your mind.
But the scene you just witnessed tonight couldn’t be more different. Jin was just… Jin. Cute pajama set, gaming setup, and an audience of what you assume were adoring fans cheering him on as he streamed his Pokémon playthrough.
Totally innocent.
Totally normal.
You flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your chest tightens as you try to rationalize it all. Maybe the stress and lack of sleep made your brain concoct some wild scenario. After all, you’re in a new place with a guy you haven’t seen since childhood. Maybe it’s just your subconscious working overtime as you’re lacking physical touch.
That has to be it, you convince yourself, pulling the blanket over your face.
And that’s exactly what you’ve convinced yourself to think.
Over two weeks have passed, and from the few times you’ve stumbled out of bed late at night, you haven’t encountered anything remotely similar to what you thought you saw on your first night here.
It became easier and easier to believe you hallucinated the whole thing.
Stress does crazy things to people, you told yourself. You just need to focus on your life.
Still, the faint embarrassment lingers every now and then, but it’s manageable. After all, you’ve been busy with moving-in activities, refining your resume, and applying to jobs. Productivity has been your savior, keeping your mind occupied and away from thoughts of intimacy—something that feels uncomfortable ever since your last relationship ended in betrayal.
Order seems to have been restored.
Conversations with Seokjin (who you now refer to as Jin) have become more natural, the initial awkwardness dissipating as you become more comfortable with one another and you’ve settled into a rhythm. You respect each other’s spaces, and despite the occasional childish banter, the dynamic is easy, like good old friends reconnecting.
You’ve gone shopping together for groceries, evening outings to eat at a sit-in restaurant or even just go for a drive or walk to destress, which usually ends in getting ice cream or bubble tea.
It’s oddly casual, but you don’t mind that. This is how things should be now that you’re both adults.
It’s a Thursday at noon when you hear the doorbell and find a large package waiting for Jin.
[You: Hey, there's a big package addressed to you at the door? Where should I put it?]
After texting him to ask where to leave it, he eventually responds:
[Jin: Ah, thanks for letting me know. I was waiting on that to come in. Jin:Just put it in my room if you don’t mind!]
[You: Okay!]
And with that, you pick up the box and head toward his room.
It occurs to you as you step inside that this is your first time actually entering his space.
Jin’s room is, unsurprisingly, immaculate—spacious, well-organized, and undeniably him. The decor is a cute mix of his personality: shelves filled with gaming figures, an impressive collection of games, and stuffed animals of his favorite creatures scattered across the bed. There’s even a small shrine to Mario and Kirby in the corner that makes you grin.
You place the package on his bed as instructed and turn to leave, but something catches your eye.
His monitor.
The screen is still on, displaying a cluttered web browser with more tabs open than anyone should realistically have. You almost laugh at the chaos of it—thirty, maybe forty tabs?
But then your gaze lands on one in particular.
A small icon. A name.
Chaturbate.
Your heart skips a beat.
Oh. My. God.
It’s like the carefully constructed world of denial you’ve built over the past week shatters in an instant.
No way. No, no, no, this can’t be?!
Your feet feel glued to the floor as your mind races. This can’t be real. Why would Jin have that open? Wasn’t it just a mistake that night? A fluke? A hallucination?!
And yet, here it is. Right in front of you.
Your stomach flips as hell’s gates open again, memories from that night rushing back in vivid detail.
Curiosity claws at you, relentless and insistent. You know you shouldn’t, but the urge to know is overwhelming. If it really is what you think it is… then maybe, just maybe, you can confirm it and put this strange, lingering mystery to rest.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you step closer to the desk. The glow of the screen feels accusatory, like a spotlight shining on your guilt. This is so wrong, you think, but your hand still moves.
You nudge the mouse, waking the monitor from its idle dimness.
The browser window expands to full brightness, revealing the countless tabs more clearly now. You spot the one labeled Chaturbate. Your fingers hover over the mouse, trembling slightly, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you click.
The page loads immediately.
And there it is.
The profile is still open, though it’s not broadcasting live. A banner at the top reads: "Offline – Streams Scheduled 3x a month. Next stream: Tonight at 1:30AM."
The alias catches your eye immediately, bold and unmistakable at the top of the page: "BigTunaManXOXO"
Big Tuna Man?
You have to chuckle, though the sound feels unnatural in the stillness of the room. Well, he did mention he likes tuna when you two had sushi two days ago. You shake your head in disbelief at how absurd the situation is.
Scrolling a little more, your heart races as the tags and content descriptions appear on the screen. Tags like casual play, NSFW, punishment, and even interactive fill the list, confirming everything you feared—and hoped—was true.
What did you expect? you think, eyes scanning the content. His previous streams, unlocked for paid viewers, show glimpses of what you had seen—shirtless moments, fan interactions, and those subtle teases. Some comments from regular viewers flash on the screen: "You’re so cute, Big Tuna. Gonna get your next stream tonight?"
A pit forms in your stomach as you scroll further, seeing the balance of gaming content mixed with something... different. There are a few VODs, some marked with glowing red icons and some tagged with things like solo play, toys, edging and private sessions. Your breath catches in your throat as you click on one of the unlocked streams. It starts to load, and before you can stop yourself, you’re staring at a past broadcast.
Seokjin.
In a black Alo Yoga hoodie and 5” inseam black shorts. The camera angle is different now, the lighting softer, more intimate. His voice comes through clearly, playful, teasing. You watch as he interacts with the chat, joking around with his viewers, and then... he moves the camera just enough that you can see the lower half of his face for a moment—barely anything though, but enough to confirm it’s him to you, who has been seeing him every day since you moved in with him.
His usual smile is replaced by something softer, more relaxed, more... flirty.
And then, there it is.
The content, the movement—just like you saw that first night. The subtle, slow gestures that make everything come rushing back, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.
You harshly click the tab shut, returning to the previous tab it once was. Quickly, you leave Jin’s room, making sure not to disturb anything else. The echo of the laptop snapping shut still rings in your ears, and your hands are trembling slightly as you step back into the hallway.
You hope it doesn’t look like you lingered too long. The last thing you need is for him to know you were snooping around, even accidentally. You slip back into your own room, shutting the door behind you, and lean against it, exhaling shakily.
This is too much.
You now have undeniable proof. Solid, irrefutable evidence that the man you’re living with, sharing meals with, and chatting about Pokémon and pasta with... is a cam boy. A cam boy doing porn and who’s managed to keep this side hustle hidden under layers of casual charm and everyday normalcy.
It’s not the fact that he does that kind of work that bothers you, not at all. If anything, it’s more… personal than that… The memory of what you saw—his expressions, his movements—lingers in your mind like an unshakable phantom, making your body feel uncomfortably warm and restless. You sink onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as if that will somehow erase the imagery burned into your brain.
Get it together, you tell yourself.
But curiosity—it’s a relentless beast. The harder you try to shove it down, the more insistent it becomes. Questions start to pile up, each one more intrusive than the last.
Does anyone recognize him? Do his fans know?
You grab your phone, desperate for answers, and open Reddit. If there’s one place on the internet where secrets can’t stay buried, it’s here. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you type: Gamer Jin and BigTunaManXOXO Reddit.
The search yields only two results. Two. A drop in the ocean of online gossip and speculation, yet still enough to send your heart into overdrive.
You tap the first thread: “Jin and BigTunaManXOXO: Double Life?”
The original poster’s comment pulls you in instantly:
“Okay, is it just me, or doesn’t he sound like this cam boy BigTunaManXOXO? Literally has the same voice, same mannerisms... someone tell me I’m not crazy.”
The replies are a mix of disbelief, humor, and outright denial. Some users dismiss the theory as absurd, calling it disrespectful to Jin. Others joke about the sheer randomness of the comparison, adding memes and GIFs for good measure.
But a small minority entertains the possibility.
“I mean… I’ve seen his streams. The way he laughs does sound kinda similar…”
“I don’t think it’s him, but if it were, that would be WILD.”
One reply makes your stomach churn:
“Not saying it’s him, but I subscribed to BigTunaManXOXO just to fantasize about him being Jin. No regrets.”
You stare at the screen, your mind spinning. The majority of commenters don’t believe the theory, dismissing it as pure coincidence. But they have no idea how close they are to the truth.
And now, neither can you unsee it.
Seokjin arrived home that evening with a bright smile and the unmistakable aroma of takeout wafting through the apartment. The bags he carried crinkled as he shifted them in his arms, his voice ringing out cheerfully, “Guess what I got? Bao buns! And a few other things, but mostly the bao buns—because I remembered you mentioned them earlier this week.”
You hear a knock at your door a moment later, and you pause, nerves prickling under your skin. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before opening it. Seokjin stands there, still dressed in his work clothes but with his usual easygoing grin.
“Dinner’s here. Come eat,” he says, gesturing toward the living room with the bags.
You nod, smiling back, though it feels a little forced. “Thanks, Jin. That’s really thoughtful of you.”
His sharp eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and you know he’s caught the slight edge in your tone, the nervous way you’re holding the door. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression shifts—subtle, curious. He doesn’t push, though; that’s not his style.
Instead, he leans back casually and adds, “I figured we could eat and watch something. Maybe an old favorite of yours?” He raises a brow, the corners of his lips tugging upward knowingly. “Bleach? I noticed you have some merch on your bookshelf.”
Your heart skips a beat, both from the thoughtful gesture and the fact that Seokjin’s perceptiveness always seems to catch you off guard. Does he see right through me? Does he know what I found?
“Bleach sounds good,” you say quickly, hoping to steady yourself. “Let me just grab something, and I’ll meet you in the living room.”
“Cool,” he says, his voice calm but tinged with something else—maybe a touch of inquisition. He walks off toward the kitchen, leaving you alone for a moment.
You close the door softly, leaning your head against it. Why does he have to be so…—you search for the right word—attentive? It’s like he has a radar for when something’s wrong. And now, dinner and your childhood favorite anime feel like a test of your ability to act normal.
A few minutes later, you join him in the living room. The coffee table is already set with the takeout containers: bao buns, lo mein, orange chicken, and fried rice. Jin is on the couch, flipping through streaming options until he lands on Bleach. He looks up and pats the cushion next to him.
“Sit. I already started the episode where Ichigo reunites with Rukia and the other Gotei 13 soul reapers. Start of my favorite arcs.”
You sit, the warm scent of the food making your stomach growl despite the anxious knot twisting inside you. Seokjin slides a plate toward you, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—eating, watching, occasionally commenting on the nostalgia of the show.
But the tension lingers.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at you between bites, as if trying to figure out what’s on your mind. And you wonder just how long it will take before his curiosity outweighs his patience.
As you both finish up the episode of Bleach, Seokjin turns to you, his gaze warm yet inquisitive. “So, how was your day?”
You pause for a second, collecting your thoughts.
What to say? What did you do today before your world got flipped upside down… Oh right… the job interview. “Busy,” you say with a small laugh. “I had a second interview earlier for a job.”
His eyebrows lift, impressed. “Oh? What’s the role?”
“It’s for a coordinator position at a small fashion house,” you explain. “It went… great, actually. But I don’t think I’ll get it though.”
Jin frowns, leaning slightly closer. “Why not? You just said it went great.”
You shrug, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling, I guess. Fashion’s cutthroat, you know? The people in that industry are quick to judge if you don’t fit the vibe they’re looking for. You can have all the skills, a good background, everything—but it’s still not enough sometimes. I don’t think I got what they want.”
He watches you for a moment, then sets down his plate and reaches across the table. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice steady. “You are good enough. I know it’s hard not to overthink, but you have to believe that you bring something special to the table.”
Your chest tightens at his words, the sincerity in his tone. His thumb brushes your knuckles gently, and that nervous feeling blooms again, tugging at the edges of your thoughts. There’s something so familiar about this—like nostalgia wrapped in uncertainty. It’s comforting, but it scares you all the same.
You blink, pulling your hand back as casually as you can without it seeming abrupt. “Thanks, Jin,” you say, your voice tight. “I… I should probably get ready for this international networking seminar I have. It’s later tonight so I’ll be up for awhile.”
He tilts his head slightly, concern flickering in his expression, but he doesn’t press. “Right. Well, good luck with it. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Right back ‘atcha,” you reply quickly, standing up. You gather the disposable utensils and plates in a hurry, tossing them into the trash before he can say anything else.
Seokjin stays seated on the couch, his gaze lingering on you as you retreat to your room. The moment you close the door behind you, you exhale sharply, pressing your back against it.
Why does he have to be like this? So supportive, so perceptive, so… kind?
This is not the Seokjin you imagined when you decided to move in here!
You shake your head, trying to refocus your thoughts. You have work to do. The seminar is important, and you need to be prepared. But even as you sit down at your desk and open your laptop, you can’t shake the image of Jin’s hand on yours or the soft encouragement in his voice.
It’s almost enough to make you forget what you saw earlier today. Almost.
Would it do you any good to force yourself to forget? Pretend that the tab you saw was just a fleeting mistake, an inconsequential moment in time?
Or would it be better to confront this unsettling curiosity head-on? Maybe, if you understood more about his “side hobby,” you could find a way to desensitize yourself. Make it less of a big deal. Normalize it in your head.
The thought gnaws at you until you’re lying in bed at 1:28 a.m., the glow of your laptop casting a dim light across your room. You’re wearing your old blue track shorts and a faded YMCA T-shirt, the kind of comfort wear you don’t expect anyone to see you in. You thought the seminar would last longer, but with some guest speaker changes, it ended right at 1am.
So now you’re doing this.
The chat on the pending livestream is already alive—rows of messages racing up the screen, eager fans buzzing in anticipation of “BigTunaMan’s” arrival.
You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.
You glance at the clock again. One minute to go.
Then, he appears.
The camera flicks on, revealing Seokjin—or BigTunaMan, as his audience knows him—seated in his chair, the warm glow of soft lighting the only facially visible part of him: his lower half of his face and the subtle curve of his smirk. He’s wearing a loose tank top, the kind that clings just enough to hint at the lines of his shoulders and chest, paired with pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. His demeanor is relaxed, confident, and undeniably captivating.
“Hey there, my army of lovers,” he greets, his voice lower, smoother, each word deliberately stretched out as if he’s tasting them. The chat floods instantly with messages, adoration pouring in from every corner of his audience.
“BigTunaMan, looking gorgeous as always!”
“Omg, talk slower, I can’t handle it.”
“Take all my money, please.”
Jin leans forward, resting his chin in his hand, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he reads through the comments. “You’ve all been so patient tonight,” he purrs. “So how about I spoil you a little?”
He picks up a small bowl of strawberries from beside him, holding it up for the camera. The way his fingers brush over the fruit feels intentional, sensual, as though he’s fully aware of the effect he has on the people watching.
“Let’s start simple,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the chat, teasing. “A little ASMR snack to set the mood. And of course, I’ll be saying your names—if you’ve earned it.”
The screen lights up with donations almost instantly, usernames accompanied by desperate messages and heart emojis.
He picks a strawberry from the bowl, holding it delicately between his fingers, and bites into it slowly. The sound is soft but amplified, deliberate, and his eyes never leave the camera. He chews thoughtfully, his tongue darting out briefly to catch a stray bit of juice.
“Thank you, PurpleHeart94,” he whispers, his voice silky and intimate. “You’re so generous tonight, baby.” He takes another bite, his gaze steady and smoldering. “And you, HentaiPrincess420—what a sweet name. Thank you for spoiling me when I should be doing that to you.”
Shit… He’s so smooth.
The chat goes wild, messages pouring in faster than you can keep track of them.
He takes his time, naming off more donors, each one met with a sultry thank-you, his tone dripping with playful affection. By the time the strawberries are gone, the tension in the air feels palpable, even through the screen.
Jin leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he speaks. “Now that we’re warmed up,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “how about we move on to something… a little more sexy?”
Your breath catches.
“The touching session,” he says simply, his hand trailing down his chest slowly, almost lazily. The camera angle shifts slightly, framing him in a way that feels more intimate, inviting, as if he’s closing the distance between himself and his audience.
You’re not sure whether you should close the laptop or keep watching, but your fingers remain frozen, hovering over the keyboard.
The chat explodes:
“YES, PLEASE!”
“Touch me instead!”
“PICK ME CHOOSE ME BigTunaMan!”
Jin chuckles, the sound low and resonant. “Patience,” he chides softly. “We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”
The camera zooms in slightly, drawing your focus to the deliberate, almost hypnotic movements of Jin’s hands as they trail over his skin. His voice, smooth and sultry, seeps into your ears like honey, wrapping around your thoughts and making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.
“Do you like this?” he murmurs, his tone so intimate it feels like he’s speaking directly to you. “Tell me how much you want it.”
The chat erupts in eager replies, but they’re a distant hum compared to the pounding of your heart. You can’t look away.
Though he keeps his face just out of view, it’s his voice that captures you, that low, velvety timbre punctuated by soft, breathy moans. They’re unintentional, almost reluctant, but they strike something deep within you.
You swallow hard, your throat dry, as your eyes remain glued to the screen. The way his hands move—slow, teasing, purposeful—sends heat coursing through your body. Every movement is a study in precision, a dance of tension and release that makes your breath hitch.
You feel your body responding in ways you didn’t expect. Warmth pools low in your belly, and your thighs press together instinctively. Your fingers hover near the trackpad, ready to click away but unable to follow through.
“This feels good, doesn’t it?” he continues, his voice breaking into a soft groan that sends a shiver down your spine. Why is this actually feeling…good. You can’t stop yourself from imagining those hands on you, guiding you, making you forget everything—your ex, the breakup, the shitty job market, the confusion of the past weeks.
For a moment, you close your eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over you. Your fingers inch lower, hesitating, as you let yourself get lost in the moment. You’re not thinking about the consequences, about what this means. You’re thinking about him—his hands, his voice, the heat building inside you.
The guilt simmers beneath the surface, but it’s drowned out by the relentless pull of desire. The screen lights up your room, but it’s his voice and movements that light you up inside. You barely notice the chat anymore; it’s just you and him in this moment, an unspoken connection through the glow of the laptop.
Your breath comes in shallow gasps as your hand moves on its own accord, slipping under the waistband of your shorts. You close your eyes again, imagining his hands instead of your own, his voice murmuring your name instead of the ones flooding the chat. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, you let yourself feel without holding back.
In this moment, nothing else matters. Fuck the breakup you had with Mingi. Fuck the stress of job searching. Fuck the awkwardness of living with him. And most importantly, fuck the consequences of watching this. It’s just him, the way he makes you feel, and the heat that consumes you completely.
Your breath hitches as your hands wander further, slipping under your shirt to tease at your nipples, fingers rolling and pinching lightly. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, but it’s not enough—not compared to what you’re watching on the screen.
Not like Jin’s movements at all.
Jin’s hands move with expert precision against his dick, his body shifting slightly as he leans into the motions. His moans, soft yet intentional, echo in your ears, spurring your own need higher. You slide your shorts down your hips, the cool air kissing your skin as they drop to the floor.
Your fingers dip lower, grazing over the slick heat pooling between your thighs. It’s good, but not nearly enough. You want more. You need more.
With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself away from the bed, heart pounding as you open the drawer of your nightstand. Your fingers quickly locate the toy nestled among your folded underwear. It’s a guilty secret you’ve kept for moments like this, though none of those moments have ever felt as charged as this one.
You crawl back onto the bed, the glow of the screen casting shadows over your skin. Jin’s voice fills the room, low and enticing, as he murmurs, “You want me to keep going? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Your thighs clench involuntarily at his words, your hand trembling slightly as you press the toy against yourself. The first vibration jolts through you, a gasp escaping your lips as your body arches into the sensation.
On the screen, Jin leans back slightly, his voice dipping even lower. “Just relax,” he says, as though he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Let me make you feel good.”
You follow his lead, letting the toy work against you as your free hand resumes teasing your chest. The pleasure builds steadily, your movements syncing with his as if he’s guiding you through the screen.
Every sound he makes, every deliberate motion, heightens the sensation coursing through you. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a soft moan slips out despite your efforts. The rhythm of the toy against you matches the cadence of his voice, and it feels as though he’s right there, coaxing you to the edge. You feel yourself almost reaching your orgasm.
But then…
The darkness in the room is lit by the various colored lights and monitor screens as Jin’s chest rises and falls. He begins to slows his movements on his cock, his fingers curling reflexively against his skin. For a brief, unguarded moment, his mind conjures your image—your laughter from earlier at dinner, the way you nervously tugged at the hem of your shirt when he reached out to reassure you.
Woah, what.
Why am I thinking about her right now?
The thought crashes into him like a freight train, shattering his carefully constructed cam-boy persona. His rhythm falters, and as he shifts back abruptly, his elbow knocks into the small Mario figure perched on the edge of his desk.
The figure wobbles, teeters, and then tumbles, the plastic base snapping cleanly off as it hits the hardwood floor.
“Shit!” Jin hisses, his hands flying up to stop the disaster that’s already occurred.
He quickly reaches for the webcam, clicking off the feed and muttering a quick excuse to his audience. “Hey guys, I’ll be right back. Technical issue. Don’t go anywhere.”
The chat floods with reactions—some disappointed, others supportive—but Jin pays them no mind. He gets himself covered up, with his focus no on the broken Mario figure in his hands.
He turns it over, the damage glaringly obvious. It’s just a silly little figurine to anyone else, but to Jin, it’s so much more. You’d given it to him during a Secret Santa exchange in elementary school. It was back when you were both just kids, long before life got complicated and your paths diverged.
He’d kept it all these years, quietly treasuring the memory of that moment, even if you probably didn’t remember.
“Damn it…” he mutters under his breath. He needs super glue—immediately.
The thought strikes him like lightning: you bought super glue just the other day to fix a keychain. You even mentioned it offhand while you were unloading groceries together.
You must have it in your room.
Without hesitation, Jin stands, his mind racing with urgency. You’d said you’d be up late for some seminar, so you’re probably awake. There’s no time to text or knock; he can just explain in person. You’re a few steps away anyway.
He pushes your door open, stepping inside in a rush, only for the world to come screeching to a halt.
His eyes widen as they land on you—sprawled on your bed, your shirt rucked up to expose bare breasts and heat, your shorts kicked off and forgotten. The unmistakable hum of a vibrator fills the air, the glow of your laptop illuminating your flushed face.
Holy shit, he just caught his new roommate and childhood rival… friend? masterbating.
Your hand freezes mid-motion as you look at him, your expression a mixture of shock and mortification.
For a moment, neither of you moves.
“I—” Jin stammers, his voice catching in his throat. His gaze darts away, his face heating up so fast it feels like it might combust. “I—oh my god—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”
Your own voice fails you, a strangled moaning sound escaping your lips as you scramble to pull the blanket over yourself, fumbling in a panic.
“W-What the hell, Jin!” you manage to croak, your voice high-pitched and shaky.
“I needed super glue!” he blurts out, clutching the broken Mario figure in his hands like it’s the most important thing in the world. “For this! It’s broken, and I—”
“This couldn’t wait?!” you snap, the mortification only growing as his words fully sink in.
Jin takes a step back, clearly flustered. “I didn’t think—! I mean, I thought you were—”
He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes darting to your laptop screen. His breath catches as the realization washes over him.
That’s my stream.
For a moment, the room is suffocatingly silent, his wide-eyed gaze flicking between you and the unmistakable paused screen of his cam boy persona on your laptop. You're watching me? The thought echoes in his mind, equal parts flattered and horrified.
Jin had sensed something was off earlier in the evening, even before all of this unfolded. After dinner, when he’d returned to his room, he’d noticed the Chaturbate tab—closed.
That was odd.
He distinctly remembered leaving it open before leaving for work this morning. He’d scheduled some exclusive content for his next stream and had moved the tab to a less conspicuous window. He figured maybe he’d closed it in a rush and forgotten.
But now, as he stood here, watching your flushed face buried in your hands, it started clicking into place.
Your awkward behavior during dinner—the way you fumbled through your answers, the slight tension in your laugh. He’d assumed you were just jittery from nerves after your job interview, but this? This was something else entirely.
How long have you known?
The realization settled in his chest like a slow-building weight, pushing him further toward clarity. His gaze softened, not with pity, but with a blend of intrigue and confusion.
“Y/N, you’re watching my camming stream?” he finally says, his voice low, incredulous.
You groan, your hands flying up to cover your burning face. “Oh my god. I can explain—no, wait, I can’t explain. Just—” You trail off, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. Your voice is muffled through your palms as you mutter, “This isn’t what it looks like at all!”
You're kind of cute, all flustered like this, he thinks to himself.
Jin crosses his arms, leaning against your doorframe, and his lips quirk up into a lopsided smile. There’s amusement in his eyes, but also something more—interest, maybe? He tilts his head slightly, watching you squirm.
Maybe he should tease her a little, like old times.
“Wow,” he finally says, his voice low and teasing. “Have you been that lonely?”
Your head snaps up, your face somehow growing hotter. “What? No! I mean…” You falter, the truth sitting heavy on your tongue, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. The breakup was actually that bad and um…but this—this isn’t about that.”
He takes a step closer, his smirk softening into something gentler. “You could’ve told me.”
“Told you what?” you ask weakly, your heart pounding as he stands just a few feet away now.
“That you’ve been feeling like this. That you needed…” His voice dips, and his dark eyes flicker over you, lingering just a little too long. “Some help...”
Your breath catches, and you swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Seokjin, I don’t—”
“I could help,” he interrupts, his tone soft but unmistakably suggestive.
The weight of his words settles over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your mind racing. Is he serious? Does he mean what you think he means?
No, like why would he? What does he gain from this? Even he himself wonders.
“You could help?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would shatter whatever fragile tension exists between you.
His eyes lock onto yours, and the look he gives you is steady, confident, and almost daring. “Yeah,” he says. “If you’d let me.”
He doesn’t think you’ll actually accept it, if anything, this is probably time for you to officially kick him out–
“Then help me, already.”
–
–
–
a/n: this is really long chapter because i really wanted to add some psychological warfare going on in reader's head + some character development as these two "childhood rivals" start to befriend each other now in their adult lives. i hope you enjoy this chapter. happy holidays!! thank you all for the support and for reading!
➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made
#seokjin x reader#seokjin x y/n#jin x reader#bts x reader#bts jin#bts smut#jin smut#bts imagines#bts reactions#smut#heart on the window#bts reader insert#bts fic#bts x fem!reader#jin fic#camboy au
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Love in Verses (XVII)
Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’
Hi! Here is new chapter! Some cuteness and bounding between our MC and Andrew…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here
Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?
Word Count: 3483
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
It was early
It was early, which has always been my hour to begin looking at the world
and of course, even in the darkness, to begin listening to it,
especially under the pines where the owl lives and sometimes calls out
as I walk by, as he did on this morning. So many gifts!
What do they mean? In the marshes where the pink light was just arriving
the mink with his bristle tail was stalking the soft-eared mice,
and in the pines the cones were heavy, each one ordained to open.
Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed.
Little mink, let me watch you. Little mice, run and run. Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open.
Mary Oliver, Evidence, 2009
The rain made a reassuring rhythm as it fell on rooftops and windowpanes. It was kind of perfect for today’s ventures through bookstores with Andrew. You both had books to buy, had decided to go together. Of course, you had two titles in mind, and had already five books in your arms. As per usual.
By your side, Andrew was softly humming. A habit of his, you had discovered. One that came through when he was fully relaxed and happy, a sign of contentment. Today’s tune was fitting the moody weather and the warmth of bookshops. Autumn in New York…
“Andy… I need your professional expertise.”
He looked up at you, glasses perched on his nose, hair tied back but loose curls still fell around his face, a couple of them hiding his right eye and the freckle above it. He looked welcoming, warm, like a blanket and hot cocoa in winter, like the cracking of fire in the hearth of a safe home.
“Devotion, Mary Oliver?” you asked, holding up the book in your hand.
He grinned.
“A must-read, obviously. Breathtaking. I have a copy though, if you want to borrow it. It’s a good selection of her poetry.”
“Would you say I will want to go back to it constantly after I’ve read it?”
“I do go back to it often,” he conceded, and you heaved a sigh.
You placed it on the pile of books that was slowly but surely growing in your arms.
“You have a terrible influence on me,” you sighed, making him roll his eyes.
“I’m merely answering your question.”
“My bank account hates you and your reliable recommendations, just so you know.”
“I’ve finished The Song of Achilles, by the way,” Andrew mentioned it as if it was but a detail, but you noticed the smile he was trying to refrain.
“And?”
“It was… good.”
You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, making him laugh.
“Alright, alright… I liked it a lot, actually.”
“How much did you cry?”
“What makes you think I cried at all?”
“Huh… because you have a beating heart, obviously?”
You saw the glimmer in his eyes, the tug of a cheeky smile on his lips that he tried to hide. You knew he was going to make a stupid joke, and that you would fall for it and laugh.
“How do you know I have one?”
“You’re alive,” you answered, playing along as you narrowed your eyes.
“So you think! I am actually un-dead. You foolish mortals should quake in fear before me.”
“How do you hide the smell of decomposition so well, then?” you asked back, and you noticed the way he was surprised by your answer, the absolute thrill he had because you were yielding into his dark humour.
“Perfume. Like the French.”
“You know it’s a myth.”
“Is it?”
“No idea.”
“I learned from the best, in the 1600s, when it grew out of fashion to stink.”
“So, what are you? A zombie?”
“No, I’m not! I’m not a brainwashed decomposing corps, how dare you?”
“Because you think you’re a vampire?”
“I would be a grand vampire!”
“Definitely a tall one, for sure.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, struggling so hard not to laugh you knew he had stopped breathing.
“Careful, mortal.”
“What are you gonna do? Sink your teeth in my jugular? Well, go ahead!”
You offered your neck to him, were surprised when his smile faltered and he fiercely blushed while staring at the skin you were now exposing.
“Besides, I’m sure I would get rid of you easily,” you teased again, replacing your scarf as it was before, and Andrew seemed to be breathing once more.
“You seem to doubt my vampiric powers to an annoying degree,” he went on again, following you as you walked further down the poetry section, before you’d stop again to look at another shelf of the same aisle.
“Hmm… maybe you are a vampire, indeed,” you pouted, acting like pondering a question. “I bet your white arse does get burned at the smallest ray of sunshine.”
Andrew couldn’t refrain his laughter anymore, it came out in a loud wave, the sound alone making you grin.
“Right, that’s right,” he nodded, doubling with laughter.
“Crispy bacon, I bet.”
His laughter came back renewed in a new wave. It lit up the entire shop, even the world beyond it.
“I cook in the sun,” he nodded, trying to calm down although his words still came out distorted by the lack of air in his lungs. “I become edible, at one point.”
You laughed too, bright and happy, the way you felt with Andy that rainy afternoon.
You didn’t have a care in the world in that moment. Basking in your shared laughter over some silly jokes, in a bookshop you loved, spending all the money you could have saved for later in life, but who cared about later? There was Andy laughing, the pile of books under his arm, the light reflected on his glasses, the pitter patter of the rain. Wasn’t that enough to fill up a world? An entire life?
You were so glad he was your friend now…
“You didn’t answer. How much did you cry?” you asked again, picking up a book, but placing it back on the bookshelf almost immediately, not liking how it looked.
“Quite a lot,” he finally admitted.
“Told you, you would. What did you think?”
He heaved a sigh, and you knew what was coming. You knew he was about to babble away for ten minutes and analyse everything in depth and question the changes made compared to the Iliad, and be too clever for his own good… He was an academic, after all.
He did exactly as you had predicted, you smiled the entire time, discussing some points with him, giving your opinion which he listened to attentively, bouncing back on your arguments to carry the conversation further. And you loved it. Every second of it. Being challenged that way about a book you had loved made your brain buzz in the best way.
You heaved a dreamy sigh, turning towards the shelves filled to the brim with books to buy.
“Oh, but can you imagine though? What it must feel like to have someone loving you that much?”
You ran your fingers across the spines of books before you, read a few titles; it was like touching dreams.
“Do you imagine what it must feel like to write about love that way? To love someone so much you write about them? To have someone writing about you?”
You smiled, a soft gesture as you let your hand fall back by your side.
“What else could we write about, though?”
You turned to Andrew, surprised by his sudden silence, and found him staring at you with an unreadable expression, you weren’t sure whether he was sad or simply deep in thoughts. You noted the red on his cheeks, though.
He seemed to hesitate, his lips parting, and then closing again.
“Like that could happen to us,” you laughed at your own silly thoughts. “Right… I’m done, I can’t allow myself to buy more books! Are you ready? Or do you require more snooping around?”
A smile was back on his lips, although Andrew still seemed a little shaken, you didn’t know why. He nodded anyway, looking down at the five books he was holding.
“I’m all good. Erm… I’m gonna order one, they didn’t have it. I’ll be quick.”
You nodded, let Andrew ask for the book he wanted, while you watched the rain fall outside, the lines it drew on the windowpane, the silhouettes hurrying back and forth in the street.
You didn’t hear Andrew joining you again, you jumped as he spoke.
“Ready?”
You had a new conversation going while you waited to pay for the books; and when it was time to walk out of the bookshop and part for the day, you didn’t want to. It was still early, you had no place to be on that Saturday afternoon. You wanted to finish this conversation with Andrew, you wanted to listen to his deep voice a little longer, let his calmness soothe you…
He looked into the street before you, holding the door open for you, but you remained motionless by his side. The rain was heavier now. It was so cold outside, you wondered if snowflakes weren’t hiding in the droplets.
“Want to get a coffee?” Andrew asked after a short silence.
You looked up at him, exchanged a glance. You read the same eagerness to stay in his eyes. You grinned.
“Yeah, I’d love that.”
You were laughing at Andrew as you ran to the coffeeshop set right across the street when he slipped, almost falling, and cursing loudly at the clumsiness of his tall limbs. The rain was so cold over your face, you savoured the feeling the same way you enjoyed Andrew’s hand on your back when he told you to hurry inside.
“Wow… your standards for that date are… very high,” Andrew declared, pushing his rebel strands of hair behind his ear.
He cursed in a sigh, mumbling something about his hair tie not ‘doing anything’, and he pulled on it to free his hair. He shook his head to let his curls free; you tried hard not to stare, failed miserably…
“You asked for like… the dream date. The absolute dream. I’ve given you the absolute dream. The unreachable standard.”
“So… a movie in a field or clearing, a picknick, at night, and with lights hanging from trees.”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“You asked for the dream! That would be so fucking romantic!”
“It’s not even feasible, on a purely logistical point. How do you watch a movie in the woods? On a laptop?”
“No! I want it like… projected on a screen, like in cinema.”
“You want to go to an outdoor screening…”
“No! I want to be alone with the guy!”
“That’s impossible.”
“Projectors do exist, you know!”
“How do you create that set up where there is no one…?”
“I’ve never said I will ever get that! That it will happen! I’ve just said… that if anything could happen… I would like a date where we would be just together, in the middle of nowhere, watching a movie we both like and eating good food in a magical setting. Or it doesn’t have to be in the middle of nowhere, it can be… like… in a garden!”
“In this economy? Who owns a garden? Are you a millionaire?”
You rolled your eyes at him. Bantering with Andrew was such a nice sport…
“Why not just… go to a cinema?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
Black, no sugar nor milk. Always the same order. Predictable guy…
“You can’t talk in a cinema. But you’re supposed to get to know the other person during a first date.”
“A restaurant then? You’ll go to the cinema for a second date.”
“Restaurants are okay,” you conceded. “And again, you asked for the dream. The one that is not achievable. That no man would ever do.”
“Because it’s not logistically possible.”
“Because no man would go to such length for someone else.”
Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the sudden pessimism in your voice. The mood shifted a little, from casually playful to something more serious, even a little sad.
You kind of hated your own thoughts, hated your weakness that made you unable to hold back the rest of your words, but they spilled out anyway.
“Especially not for me.”
Andrew’s expression changed from surprised to a deep frown. He opened his mouth to argue, but you interrupted him before he had as much as a chance to say a word.
“Never mind that. Anyway… let’s talk about something else. It’s your turn to answer a question!”
You narrowed your eyes, mischief back on your features, and if Andrew didn’t seem fully convinced by your sudden change of subject, he yielded anyway.
“Alright, I’m all ears.”
“I can ask you whatever I want?”
“Sure… I might not answer though.”
You looked for something that would make him blush for sure, just to tease…
“Weirdest place where you’ve had sex?”
Andrew broke into laughter, clearly uncomfortable now, and blushing like a tomato all the way up to the tips of his ears. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair. And yet, when he looked at you again, there was something wicked in his gaze, something beyond playful.
“That… is a very personal question to ask a lad.”
“You’re the one who started asking about my dating preferences.”
“Dating and having sex are quite… different. One is much more tamed.”
“Only if the date isn’t that good.”
He smiled, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek. You knew he liked that, the challenge of talking to someone witty.
“Fair enough,” he nodded, still staring at you, his voice lower and deeper than usual.
Your stomach clenched, you felt warmth spread across your entire frame under the combination of his stare and his suave ton.
He knew how to be a dangerous flirt, alright…
“I’m afraid I’ll be a little disappointing though. I haven’t had crazy experiences,” he admitted. “I guess… I don’t know… a car?”
“A classic!”
“It wasn’t very nice, to be fair…”
“Really?”
He winced, taking a deep breath.
“Very long limbs in a secluded space is all I’m gonna say about it.”
You chocked on your coffee, laughing so hard your belly was soon painful. And Andrew was laughing as well.
“Oh, no! The woods! That’s weirder!” he changed his answer, looking at the ceiling as he seemed to look through his memories. “Yeah, the woods, actually.”
“Risky business. I bet you’ve traumatised an entire family of badgers.”
“Several of them, definitely!” he chuckled, drinking and taking a bite of his cheesecake.
“Alright, next question!” you eagerly asked, making Andrew smile.
“Erm… like… erm… If you could go anywhere in the world now… Like… you’re just, transported like that,” he explained, snapping his fingers for good measure, “where would you like to go, and why?”
“Oh… It would have to be a place far away if I can teleport there and not suffer through twenty hours of flying… erm… Probably Australia or something like that. Or New-Zealand! Oh yeah… going full on hardcore Lord of the Rings fan in New-Zealand, that would be nice.”
“You’d make a very good elf,” he chuckled, but you shook your head.
“Oh, I want to be a hobbit! Quiet, eating a lot of good food, reading books, complaining about people all day long, like… with your busiest time of the day being going for a walk through the nearby fields. Yeah, I want that life.”
Andrew’s gaze softened.
“That sounds nice, indeed.”
You looked for a question to ask him while munching on your cupcake.
“Where would you like to live? Like… if you had an unlimited amount of money, and you could just… buy any house, anywhere in the world�� where would you like to live?”
Andrew hummed as he was thinking of an answer, looking by the window at the rain that was still falling and showing no sign of stopping. In the coffeeshop, Mumford and Sons were playing, you hummed along the tune while you waited for Andrew’s answer.
He heaved a sigh.
“I’m… so boring,” he admitted with a smile. “But I… I would really like to live in Wicklow. Like… in the countryside, in a very small town, and to have… like… some land and a huge garden. Some old house where you can feel the weight of time and of people who have lived there before, but… I mean, modernised, cause… comfort, you know?” he joked, looking at you again. “But yeah, I… I would really like to live in a quiet house, a place with a soul. And I want a garden. I… I would really like to keep bees, one day.”
“Bees?”
“Yeah… they’re my favourite insects, even animals to be fair. They’re so… interesting and quite cute. And I just… Can you imagine? Taking care of your bees, and making your own honey? I would really like that. I would really like that a lot. Nothing extravagant, nothing unreachable just… a house with a garden, and a couple of hives. Besides, Elwood would need a garden. I’m lucky, my parents live in the countryside. I… I think I’d like to live quite close to them, actually. When I was a child, we settled in Wicklow, and it was so nice. I loved growing up there. We didn’t have a farm but we were outside any big city. And it was just so nice. I’d like that.”
You felt your heart grow warm at his words. Something so simple he wanted. Bees and a garden, some place for Elwood to run…
“You are aware it would cost you your liver to have a cubicle in the middle of a field, right?” you asked, trying to think about something else than the way your heart was making happy jumps now.
He rolled his eyes.
“You said that I didn’t have to think about the money. With unlimited budget.”
You nodded, checked the time.
It was starting to be late, your coffee was almost empty and you had finished your cake. Time to go home.
Instead, you looked up at Andrew, noticed how long his eyelashes were as he looked down into his cup of coffee. Your request passed your lips before you could think the words you were speaking.
“Ask me something else.”
A week later, Andrew was back in the bookshop, although, he was on his own this time. The book he had ordered had been delivered, he was coming to pick it up. He wouldn’t buy anything else, just what he needed. He had already bought too many books with you, the previous week, learning that you could not be trusted either in a bookshop. He wasn’t surprised. A fond smile spread on his lips at the thought.
He was about to go pay for the book when something caught his eye. A name he recognised and that made him immediately think of you.
Dante Aleghieri
He walked over to the table where a few books were displayed, including this nice copy of the Divine Comedy. He picked it up, turned the book into his hands, weighted it as he hesitated. He hadn’t read that book since his college days, several years ago. At the time, he wasn’t interested in that story, and he reckoned he was too young to understand it. He had studied later on the bits and pieces that Seamus Heaney himself had translated, but that was all.
You loved Inferno though. You had found something in it. He wanted to find out what it was. Besides, it made him think of you…
He heaved a sigh, walked to pay for both books, carried them home.
That evening, he picked up Dante instead of finishing the novel he was currently reading. He checked on Elwood, who was softly snoring in the corner of the living room, before heading to bed himself. He readjusted his glasses on his nose before slipping under the covers, turning off his phone so he wouldn’t be interrupted or distracted, and he started reading.
He was drawn into the story now, more so than he remembered being the first time around. Of course, it was a book written over seven hundred years ago, with such Christian outdated thoughts that some pieces were lost to us. And yet, there was something haunting in its imagery, something touching in the pain inflicted. He made a mental note to research more about the political context that was debated in the book, he didn’t remember the story being so heavily driven by Dante’s political views, but it was. It was mostly political, mostly Christian too. He kept on reading through Canto I and II, until he had to stop, his breathing caught in his throat, his eyes clouded with tears as he reached Canto III.
Through me you enter into the city of woes,
Through me you enter into eternal pain,
Through me you enter the population of loss.
The words carved above the entrance of hell made him put down the book, stare up at the ceiling. It was silly, that wasn’t what the words meant in the context of the book, and yet… there was so much loss in his life at the moment…
Through me you enter the population of loss.
The words played through his head again and again. What a beautiful way to describe grief…
He let out a breathy chuckle, blinking his tears away and smiling instead.
He should never doubt you. You seemed to always be right…
#hozier#andrew hozier byrne#the hoziest#hozier x reader#hozier x you#hozier x y/n#hozier x fem!reader#hozier series#hozier fanfiction#hozier fanfic#hozier au#hozier professor au#professor au
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 72)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (59) / Alexia Putellas x Character (29) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (14)
Masterlist (other parts here)
((**3.1k**))
ALEXIA POV
“Fuck.” Lucy growled. “Fuck. Fuck.”
“It’s okay. It’s just Ona.”
Alexia watched her jaw twitch as she drove. “Did you ask her to come?” She repeated.
“No.”
She saw her hands on the steering wheel turn white with just how hard she was gripping. Alexia knew Lucy. She couldn’t console her. She needed to be there in the room with them. With Blau. She needed to physically be there to protect her. She was always that way.
Alexia looked down at the warm pile of grey fur cuddled in her lap and smiled. Chiquito was on his back in a position that should have been impossible for his spine, a single paw over his eyes and the other touching Alexia. Needing to know she was there.
“When did you talk to her?”
“This morning after I realise I… was alone.”
Lucy immediately sympathised. She didn’t have to look at her to know. She felt it.
“She call me about the national game this week to see if I go.”
She ran her fingers through the soft fur of his belly, watching him squirm as he enjoyed it, moving his paw from his eyes and slow blinking up at her.
“Will you?”
Alexia sighed. She’d been trying to avoid all of these thoughts. “I don’t know.” She replied in Spanish. Lucy knew enough for that.
She nodded. “If there’s anything we can do…” She cut herself off.
“I know. Thank you. Today will be fun.”
“And there’s YFN’s birthday this week…”
“Oh?”
“This is the whole reason this Lumos event is happening. I called a few girls to come and distract her but it got out of hand. All of the WSL games were played yesterday so everybody has a day off today and came down to mingle and get their content done. It’s a lot. But I really just wanted to organise her birthday with people while she was busy.”
Alexia gave a small smile at that as Chiquito began playing with her hand, pulling it close to lick and then cuddle to it. Lucy was smart by doing that. Blau would have picked up what she was doing otherwise.
“Why you leave so late?”
“The organising? Because I wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t know what was happening with her and work and Spain and the clubs. And then the accident happened…”
It wasn’t an accident, but she didn’t want to use the word ‘assault’, which was more than understandable.
Chiquito grew tired of being on his back and stood, stretching and then stood on his back legs to nuzzle up to her neck. He was a very loving cat, and she knew he must have missed… her.
Alexia loved Chiquito. She allowed herself to be herself with him. Giving him all of the love and kisses and attention. That was the real Alexia, deep down. Too deep to find. Or at least she thought it was.
She looked over and saw that worried, protective, jaw-twitching Lucy had returned.
“Ona won’t be a problem. She just want to check on me.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I know her.” She replied in Spanish.
“Ona likes me.”
“I know.
“She really likes me.”
“I know.”
“I… I was lonely and let her get close. But we didn’t do anything…”
“I know,” Alexia said, softer.
“But you don’t know. My one job is to protect her. And only then make sure she’s happy and loved and has everything she wants. But I feel like I’ve just let her down every step of the way. The messages, the stalking, the brick… the fucking brick… Kristie. Mark. Her believing she was alone and we were broken up. The… accident…”
She almost whispered that. The assault. Alexia didn’t say it aloud but she understood now. Even if Ona wasn’t a threat, everything was a threat to Lucy now. She just needed to…
“I just need to protect her.”
Alexia nodded and she put her hand on her friend’s arm and squeezed. It felt good to be the comforter and not the comforted.
Chiquito settled back down into her lap, his back to her tummy, and his body curled around the entirety of Alexia’s free hand, claiming it as his own.
YFN POV
“Hey chicken,” Caitlin said as her arms came around her from behind and then she spotted Jordan and Leah. “Jordy! Leah!”
She ran around the table and shoved Katie aside to hug their best friends.
Jordan gave her a laugh and a hug back, and so did Leah. “Just did some interviews did you?”
“Yep, just need ta take some photos and we’ll have a break and get some a that lunch YFN was talkin’ about,” Katie said.
Jordan nodded silently and the couple immediately picked up on tension, their eyes wandering around the table.
“Wait, what’s happenin’?”
“What’s the issue? What did we miss?”
“Nothing. No issue..” YFN insisted.
Katie ignored her and started looking around the room until her eyes found Ona standing near the entrance, talking to several Man United players from her days there, though her eyes finding YFN ever so often.
Kyra crashed the party then with her cheeky attitude and said her hello’s. She took a bite of the closest item of food on YFN’s plate and her chewing slowed as her eyes found what the girls were looking at.
“What’s she doing here?” she asked.
Silence again. Shit. They didn’t know about Alexia and Ridley and there was no way to explain otherwise.
“She’s-” Leah started.
“-just here to see Alexia and do some press.” YFN cut off, appreciating that she was trying to help.
“Wasn’t she and Lucy a thing?” she asked.
“Not exactly..”
“Speakin’ of – where is she?” Katie interjected.
“Picking up Alexia.”
“Alexia’s coming? That’s great! Is Ridley coming?” Kyra blurted. She couldn’t be mad at her, it was Kyra after all and she was as innocent as they came.
More silence. Leah didn’t even attempt to speak this time. The silence lasted until Katie said, “Fuck. That bad?”
YFN cringed but it was all the response they needed. “That’s why she’s here?”
“I assume so… please don’t say anything.” She looked at Kyra and grabbed onto her cheeks with her good hand, her face puffed out with the food she had in there. She reminded her of a little Lucy sometimes. “Especially you. Don’t mention Ridley at all. Got in?”
She nodded until her face was released and she could swallow. “Yes, mum.”
“She looks a little out of place…” Alex said sympathetically, looking at Ona across the room.
It was true. Although she was surrounded by friends and former teammates, she still looked a little awkward and to be honest, she didn’t blame her. But in YFN’s head, everybody was making a big fuss over something so small. Lucy and Ona were never a thing. She liked Lucy, but so did the majority of the lesbian community. How could she ever be upset at someone for liking the person she adored with every fibre of her being?
“How far away is Lucy?” Kyra asked as a joke-not-joke.
Katie slapped her arm.
“We need to get going over to do our photos..” Caitlin said, tugging at Katie.
“On your way… can you two invite Ona over here, please?” YFN asked.
ONA POV
Ona had never before heard Alexia in such a state as that morning. She was crying, her voice shaking, half-asleep, and yet, somehow, Ona knew she was still holding back. She was destroyed. And Ona knew exactly what that felt like. She was always head over heels for Lucy and truly believed they were on their way to becoming something more when she’d met YFN. She didn’t hate either of them, she didn’t hate anyone. She simply grieved something she’d lost, and what’s worse, the potential of that something. And so when she heard Alexia so heartbroken over Ridley, she did the one thing she’d want someone to do for her. Be there.
Ona booked a flight as soon as Alexia had hung up. She’d messaged her but assumed she’d fallen asleep, and some part of her said maybe catching a flight was too dramatic, but she’d heard that pain in her voice, and Alexia was never, ever like that. Ever. She was going to be there for her friend because that’s who Ona was.
She was aware from a young age that she felt differently… more deeply… more passionately than other people. She was touchy and almost shy, and had her feelings affected by anything quite easily. She loved hugs and kisses, anything physical, from any of the people she was comfortable with, and although she knew it could be a bit much for some people, she didn’t care. It’s just the way she showed her emotions and to be quite frank, it helped take the edge off of the enormity of the things she felt. Alexia acted tough, but Ona had known her for a while. From Barca, the Spanish National team and prior to that, when they were young. And so she knew she was really a softy. She liked hugs. She liked being cared for. She just didn’t want anyone thinking that.
Ona messaged as she landed, and still nothing. She could have been asleep or more likely, she was ignoring her. She wasn’t surprised. Instead – she saw all of the messages from the girls about the Lumos event and jumped on board. Even if Alexia wasn’t there, perhaps players there would know where she was, or… maybe even YFN.
Although they’d had very little interaction, she knew it was because of their awkwardness towards the situation rather than any animosity. Whenever Ona had caught her eye at the pub, she’d never shied away from it. She’d always given her a smile, and not an empathetic one either, a polite one. That told her everything she needed to know about the woman. Yet, regardless of how nice she seemed, Ona did also hold a little hope that she would see Lucy at some point and be able to talk to her because fuck, did she miss her.
When Alexia didn’t respond, Ona took a taxi from the airport to Lumos and was greeted by chaos. She followed the directions of the staff as best as she could with their quick English and found herself being led into a room reverberating with a loud mass of voices, music, pets and other sounds. She didn’t have to wonder where to go first. Just as soon as she stepped into the room, her eyes found YFN. She was holding a phone up to her ear and paused before giving a smile and collecting herself.
She wondered if she should go over, or if she even liked her, but before she could argue both sides further in her head, her old Man United friends were there and surrounding her with excitement at her sudden arrival. She greeted them all and had a little catch up, letting them tell her about the different things she could do content-wise today. They encouraged it and honestly, it sounded like a great idea to fulfil her content needs in her own time and space, rather than being forced by her manager to find some for her to stay relevant and find sponsors. She just wished she’d brought Coco. Regardless of the girls all chatting around her, and Ona trying her best to distinguish the English from each other, her eyes kept finding YFN as she was talking in her group.
Just when Ona thought she’d be stuck there forever, two Arsenal players she’d briefly met before, Katie and Caitlin came over from YFN’s table and extended an invite to join her.
“Go, go!” Lucía García encouraged in Spanish. “She’s organising it all for us so she’s the person to talk to!”
Lucia wasn’t aware at that stage of Ona’s crush on Lucy otherwise she would have offered to keep her in the wheelchair. An over-exaggeration as she usually did.
She politely withdrew herself with the promise to see them all later, and headed over to YFN’s table where she now sat alone. She looked around and saw Leah Williamson, Jordan Nobbs and Alex Scott all sitting in an area with couches, headsets and microphones, talking and pointing around the area which was set up for podcasting.
“Hi,” she greeted, politely using English.
“Hola, Ona,” she smiled in return, though wincing slightly and dropped the smile a little. Ona’s eyes found her bruised jaw and she felt sick in her stomach. As she came around the table to kiss her on either cheek, she saw the wheelchair she was sitting in, her knee in a brace, her arm in a sling and couldn’t help the pure empathy that seeped from her. How was it possible to do that to another human being? And if Ona had ended up with Lucy, would they have done the same to her?
She sat down adjacent to her, YFN automatically moving her laptop and paperwork out of the way.
“How are you?” she asked, genuinely curious.
YFN chuckled and it was a cute, humble thing. “I’ve been better.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No, thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it.” Another smile. She was also great with eye contact and her eyes held… intelligence and awareness. She could see why Lucy liked her so much. “You’ve come for Alexia?”
“Sí. I could not see her here..”
“She’s not yet. I think she’s slept most of this morning or just been ignoring her phone. Luce is on her way here now with her.”
“Ah.” She felt good, knowing that Alexia was coming, and that she’d seen her messages. “Do you know much?”
“I was going to ask you the same..”
“She call me this morning very upset. She kept saying ‘she left’ and that she didn’t deserve to be loved.”
“That Ridley didn’t deserve to be loved?”
“No.. no… Alexia. She wouldn’t let me say anything bad about her to make her feel better.” Ona knew her accent was strong as she struggled for words in English, but YFN was patient with her, following every word.
She nodded.
“Is it… true? She is gone?”
Another nod. She looked as if she knew more, but didn’t say, and Ona didn’t ask as she knew the relationship between the two and that it was private.
“Never coming back?”
She sighed. “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. I just��� I’ve never seen Ridley so in love before. And the one thing I know about her is just how unpredictable she can be sometimes.”
“Did they…” Ona didn’t finish the sentence, fearing the question was too inappropriate but she knew just how much of a difference that would have made to the situation. Sex always complicates things.
“I believe so.”
Ona swore in Spanish.
“Didn’t you have a game last night? You must be tired..”
“I am used to it I think,” she admitted. The two shared a smile.
“For what it’s worth, I think you coming here to be there for Alexia is beautiful. You’re a really good friend.”
Ona hadn’t expected the rawness of what she’d just said. She held her eye contact and could feel the blush on her face a little. “Thank you. She would do the same for me. Alexia… does not have… do emotions well… if that makes sense. She hides and be’s strong so when I heard her I knew I must come.”
YFN nodded knowingly. “Will you stay here or take her home?”
“Whatever she wants. I need to be with the national team by Wednesday.”
It was Monday now and their new coach was not lenient in the slightest, though still somehow a slight improvement on the last. Alexia was still injured and not playing, though she tended to go and be supportive when she could. Right now Ona wondered if that was what she needed most.
“I wonder what will be better for her,” YFN pondered aloud, mirroring Ona’s thoughts. Her heart jumped a little. Maybe they were a lot alike in the way they thought and empathised and acted. Maybe that’s why Lucy liked her so much. And maybe, just maybe, Ona was also Lucy’s type.
She shook the thoughts from her head and watched as YFN wriggled a little uncomfortably in her chair. It must be horrible to be stuck in one place for fear of pain and an inability to move far.
“I am really sorry for what happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.” She meant it, every word. And she wanted to say more but knew she didn’t have to. YFN understood the ‘more’ without her having to say it. She’d noticed that about her.
“Thanks Ona. I really appreciate that. It means a lot.” She reached across the corner of the table with her good arm extended, and Ona took her hand and squeezed. They held each other’s hands and eyes and it felt cathartic, almost. And she knew it was more than just a thank you. It was a sign that things were okay between them, and that they both understood and appreciated each other, regardless of the Lucy complication.
As if she knew she was there, YFN’s eyes snapped straight towards the entrance Ona had walked in to see Lucy standing there, almost dishevelled, her eyes flicking between the two and to their joined hands and back. God, she looked good. Ona saw her throat bobble as she swallowed her emotions.
With her eyes falling on YFN and only her, she made her way across the room with purpose, and Ona couldn’t help but want her eyes back on her. She was distracted from her wanting, though, as she spotted Alexia entering the room with her famous frown and sunglasses. She was dressed well, as was typical of la Reina and her facial expression held no happiness there. She moved her glasses to the top of her head and her eyes also found the pair, examining the situation and then Lucy stalking for them. She was always in Captain mode.
She looked quite normal besides the slightly red, puffy eyes, which could be explained away easily with a lack of sleep, and Ona was unsurprised and indifferent by the attention she caught just by being there.
In fact, the only thing different about her was that she had a little grey cat perched over her shoulder, his head scanning the room before nuzzling back into her neck.
The little grey cat who Ona immediately recognised as Chiquito.
#woso#womens football#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso soccer#engwnt#lionesses#lucy bronze#woso x reader#woso imagines#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader#alexia putellas#barcelona femeni#fc barcelona#fcb femení#barca femeni#fc barca#barca#barca women#leah williamson#jordan nobbs#katie mccabe#caitlin foord#alex scott#arsenal women#arsenal#ona batlle
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Prometheus Chapter 4
Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Chapter 4 - Socially Blocked
Little different chapter style. Hope you enjoy. Also, I have no beta so mistakes are all me.
Tags: Limited use of y/n but established last name. Swearing, mentions of the pandemic and human and sex trafficking. Canon typical violence. Sexual innuendos. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 4.8k
AO3
Chapter 3
You had joined Prentiss in her office several hours ago to go over the forensic evidence that had come in. Laptop balancing on your thighs, you compile the data and cross reference missing persons with the families that Lewis had been gently consoling until the lab techs worked their magic. This was your nightly ritual with the section chief since joining; identification and providing closure.
What you did during the day was follow her around like a fucking assistant. You were now well versed in FBI budgetary matters, regulatory concerns, and how long new policies would be put into practice. You knew there were countless mind-numbing meetings, but this was insane. Most of the meetings could be cut in half, be done over Zoom, or just not happen at all. Just fucking email one another.
Then there were piles upon piles of paperwork to sort, sign and scan and files to review sent by local law enforcement agencies asking for FBI assistance. Just briefly glimpsing some of the cases made you wonder how one could decide which case mattered more. Go after one psycho but let the less of a psycho go free for the state to handle? Some requests had to be denied general FBI involvement due to a jurisdiction juggling nightmare that needed to be sorted first.
If this was a section chief’s life, how the fuck did Brian survive being the director of the entire CIA?
The more pressing question on your mind was why Prentiss was doing her damnedest in limiting time between you and the rest of the team. Okay, yes, Prentiss didn’t know anything about you, and yes, it was difficult to delegate work to you without knowing all your capabilities, but being a special agent in the CIA meant something.
You just gave the BAU a ton of money! Least you could do something more than be a glorified secretary! Not like you expected time out in the field, you totally understood that was out of bounds, but it’s been three days like this, and it was getting on your nerves. Why were you familiarizing yourself with FBI manuals if all you were good for was be a gopher for Prentiss?
Day 1
1145
Prentiss had given you a quick tour of the bullpen leaving the conference room for last. When you enter, excited to present your sweet offerings, you saw the team was already standing and ready to break. Introductions were made quickly, with almost every team member thanking you for the food and grabbing something.
Luke grabbed a chocolate frosted long john with a grin. “Can’t wait to catch up with you when we get back!”
You blink. Back from … what?
JJ grabbed a handful of macarons with delight, already stuffing one in her mouth as she left. “Dis isz weally nice ov ya!” she said, covering her mouth to not accidentally spew crumbs at you.
Rossi was far more debonair and rounds the choices with an index finger before plucking out a glazed twist, flashing a smile. “Thanks, kid.”
You saw Garcia slipping out quickly without making eye contact.
The hell?!
You open your mouth to say more, but he looks apologetic. “We’ll talk more later. Gotta lot going on right now, but we’ll make time.”
At least Tara had the decency to stop for a few seconds to exchange simply pleasantries. “So nice to finally meet you! Rebecca says nothing but good things.”
You raise a brow and chuckle. “Really?”
Prentiss looks unconvinced as well.
She shrugs and steals a macaron. “Yes, for real. I’ve gotta lot of family interviews and sessions lined up today, but we’ll chat more later.”
Patting you on the shoulder, Tara starts to exit the conference room backwards, pointing at you with promise. “You’re gonna have to tell me all you can about that HSC* in Saxony. Later!”
You sigh with close eyes and your head falls back. These little tidbits were not helping without context for your new boss. Even before you open your eyes to look at Prentiss, you just know she is staring at you with contempt.
Yep. There it is. Just missing an eyeroll.
Without being asked, you take a seat at the table and shove the box towards Prentiss. “We were tailing ISIS members. One decided he could get away when we moved in and learned how very wrong he was about it.”
1315
Prentiss left you to read FBI procedural manuals while she went to meet the deputy director. She had thought it prudent to delay you two crossing paths for as long as possible considering he was not happy with either of you. It was nice to hear that you had something in common with Prentiss. The tiny scrap of connection was something, no matter how pitiful. And you knew Prentiss was happy to upset Bailey.
This leaves you alone for a short time and you decide to use it wisely and check in on Garcia. It was really bothering you why she ignored you earlier today. Yeah, the team was busy with the Sicarius case, but everyone else had acknowledged you as they hurried off. Surely the bold color choices of her ensemble meant she was outgoing and not shy. You didn’t even make polite eye contact.
So, you go by instinct and grab a few left over macarons and position them with purpose on a white paper plate before heading to what you learned was The Lair.
Aware of not barging in on a tech’s work, unless you wanted to have your head bit off, you knock and wait.
“Entrer!’ you hear through the door and smile.
You open the door and poke your head in with a playful grin. “Hey, Garcia.”
The flurry of typing abruptly stops and you see her stiffen. Your grin quickly falls into a frown.
“I’m sorry.” You fully move into the room, noting the same outlandish decor that matches Garcia’s clothing. “I hope I’m not bothering you?” you say hopefully.
“Nope!” She pops the p and goes back to typing. By a cursory glance on what was on the screens, yeah, you had no idea what she was working on.
Garcia said nothing more but the stiff body language and her outright ignoring you once again, made it clear you upset her. Pushing her at this moment would only cause the divide to widen. You barely know each other.
“Well, I saw you didn’t take any treats and brought them to you. Probably hard getting away while you’re …”
“Cataloging important data,” she said quickly, still not looking at you.
“Yeah, so …” you look around and see an open spot on the table to her right. You are careful to not move anything when you put the plate down next to a fuzzy neon green turtle. “Enjoy when you-“
“Hey Garica, I’m jus-“ Prentiss’ fond tone quickly dissolves to accusatory. “You’re supposed to be in my office.”
“And I took a break. That a problem?” you challenge, taking in Prentiss confident posture, hand out before her with the other in her suit pants pocket. She cut quite the authoritative figure.
Garcia keeps typing away but slower so she can concentrate on you and Prentiss.
“No, but I’d appreciate you leaving the team alone while they’re working.” The words sound like a suggestion, but the tone was an order.
“Yeah, sure,” you concede, again, not wanting to cause an unnecessary argument. But first, you bow to the back of Garcia sitting in her chair. “Bon appetit!”
You rise and move pass Prentiss, both of you locking gazes and it ticks you off you had to look away since you were the one leaving.
“Oh, darn it!” whimpers Garcia. “Why?!”
Alarmed, Prentiss walks over to her with concern. “What’s wrong, Penelope?”
With a deeply etched sullen look on her face, she shows Emily the plate you had left. It was a macaron smiley face. One eye was pink, the other blue, and the smile was purple. You chose the bright colors on purpose.
“Why'd she have to do something this cute?!” she complains. “I’m not supposed to like her!”
1750
You roll your head working out the stiffness that settles in your shoulders from being hunched over most of the day on Prentiss’ couch going over manuals and signing off on orientation documents. You had tried various positions to find any source of comfort once joints began to ache. You sat on your ass with feet on the floor, legs on the couch, cross one leg, then the other, then had to stretch them along the couch. Then you said fuck it and placed the laptop on the cushion and laid supine while working and then to top it off, you sat on the floor with the laptop on the couch like a desk not giving any fucks what Prentiss thought.
She offered the couch, not her desk, to work on, and you didn’t want to get all up in her business setting up shop across from her. She’d probably shoot you if you decided to leave for a desk in the bullpen. And oddly enough, when it appeared you were going to get up, she engaged in questions about what you were reading or if you had any concerns. All sterile and by the book, but with suspicious brown eyes trying to figure you out.
It was only day one and you were willing to play the game, not letting her get to you. All in all, it really was a typical first day of boring bullshit. Just without a cubicle.
Eh, you had suffered far worse with even more irate coworkers and direct supervisors. But this felt different. Maybe Brian was right and you weren’t made for the general population. And yes, that meant the people at Quantico.
You weren’t kidding that Prentiss was a legend when you made that quip. Faking her own death to protect that kid and her team was a brilliant self-sacrificing move that you deeply respected. Then as you dug deeper into the team’s background, you gained a deeper respect for the BAU’s work, dedication, and the trauma they’ve been through to keep the people of your country safe.
Of course, you honed in on Prentiss’ work since she was your superior. One assumed if you were CIA or former CIA everyone knew each other and that simply wasn’t the case. While Prentiss was infiltrating Doyle’s criminal organization, you were gathering intel in Afghanistan on al-Qa’ida's operations. You two worked very different operative circles.
Despite your specializations never intersecting professionally until now, on paper, you two should at least get along and have something to talk about then just … whatever this was in her office right now. You both were driven, intelligent women who were dedicated to the people on your team and would protect them at all costs. Your skill sets were complementary and overlapped with being seasoned international operatives, you spoke several languages, focused on counter terrorism, and were awarded many commendations for mission successes and demonstration of skill sets.
But here you are, sitting on the floor of her office like you were her kid finishing homework.
“You should probably head home.”
You glance over your shoulder and scowl, seeing Prentiss was looking down at a file and not you.
“I don’t mind staying and catching up with all this. Same thing I’d be doing at the apartment. The lab reports are important to review ASAP.” You didn’t want to correct her about what home was and wasn’t.
You look at the files cluttering the desk and cross your lips in thought. “Need any help? Granted, I’m not savvy enough yet on all the FBI lingo but paperwork’s still a bitch however you cut it.”
That made her look up at you. She was motionless as she considered your proposal and your earnest face.
“Thank you, but no.” She looks down again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” After you salute, you stand up and stretch, hearing your knees pop. You then grab your laptop and manuals, tucking them under your arms securely.
Note to self, bring a backpack.
You are polite as you walk by, offering a nod she didn’t appear to see. “Night, Prentiss.”
She hums noncommittally but as you drag your eyes away from her desk, you notice something that provides a glimmer of hope.
On a napkin that had been tucked out of view near one of the file stacks was a half-eaten red macaron.
Day 2
0630
You came to Quantico early with a bottle of Diet Coke in hand and your black and grey backpack secure around both shoulders, ready to tackle the day before anyone else got here.
Yet you see a movement coming from Prentiss’ office window and have to stop. She was already here? You squint in thought and presume she had stayed late and came in early – basing this assumption on her work ethic and how every good leader worked themselves ragged on little sleep.
You down some more pop and climb the stairs to her office, gently knocking. She opens the door and you raise a brow at her because she was wearing yesterday’s clothes.
“What are you doing here?” she asks with surprise accusation.
“Wanted an early start. What’s your excuse?” you probe gently.
She thins her lips and steps aside as a silent invitation to come inside. “Sicarius.”
Prentiss didn’t have to say anything further for you to understand the unspoken. She had no one to go home to, so why worry about time and just bury herself in work. And by the time Prentiss realized what time it was, she might as well stay in her office and sleep. She probably had a change of clothing in the closet, and it was easy to freshen up in one of the locker rooms. It was a more productive use of her time than driving home to do the same thing and come right back here. Avoid all that traffic.
You should know. You’ve done it yourself many times.
“Fair enough,” you say without judgement as you drop your backpack on the couch. “Does the team know?”
She reaches for the white FBI seal decorated coffee mug on her desk and frowns. “Know what?”
“That you stay here sometimes.” You knock back several gulps of pop before setting the bottle down on the side table.
After a moment of consideration while sipping her coffee, she looks to you with a narrowing gaze. “No.”
You nod, understanding the silent request. “Secret’s safe with me.”
1233
You were grabbing a cup of coffee for an afternoon pick me up, when you hear slow purposeful footsteps coming closer.
“Like a little coffee with your cream there, kid?” Rossi jokes, coming to stand beside you.
You chuckle. “I do. Bonus if it’s French Vanilla.”
He regards you with wizened eyes, but you could tell he was exhausted with how often he blinks. “How long have you been CIA?”
Oh here we go.
“Long time.” It wasn’t a precise answer, but it also wasn’t a lie.
“Sounds like me and the FBI.” His eyes twinkle with mirth.
“Hey, I’m not that old,” you answer with a grin before taking a sip of coffee.
He laughs as you swallow and continue. “You know, it’s probably not a surprise I know your work, Mr. Writer.”
Rossi acknowledges with a nod. “No, this does not come as a surprise at all.”
You hum, nodding. “Broken Child was the first one I read. Though, I did follow your work with the Gideons closely.”
He smiles with delight. “Really?” Rossi pauses and gestures for you to follow him to continue this conversation elsewhere. You could tell he was fascinated by this. “How far back?”
“Oh, pretty far. As you know, your guys’ work wasn’t all BAU related.”
“True. The CIA did take part of our research for profiling training. And to use for psych evals on operatives.” He smiles. “Am I getting close?”
“Definitely warm.” You smile back. “It was part of my training.”
“You’ll have to tell me more.”
And just as things were becoming interesting with a non-Prentiss member of the BAU, she has to come and ruin it. It’s like the woman had a sixth sense when you were getting too close to one of her teammates.
“Hey, Dave. I need you in the conference room. JJ and Luke have an update on our unsub in Texas.”
“Right.” He holds out his hand, which you take, and he gently squeezes. “I look forward to continuing this later.”
Your smile was bright. Working with Rossi was a perk of agreeing to this. You never thought you’d have the chance to have face to face time with someone who wrote the blueprints for training you, again.
“Yeah, me too.”
He keeps your hand for a moment longer before letting go and looking at Prentiss. “You sure the kid can’t just listen in?”
You try not to look eager and utterly fail. You just know you got the sad puppy dog eyes going. Which, of course, doesn’t work on the leery section chief. “Whitlock has promised to help me with paperwork. Isn’t that right?”
Fucking hell! She’s using generosity from last night as an excuse to keep me busy. ARGH!
Of course, you’re not going to call her out on it as you really did offer to help and meant it. You manage to keep the disappointment hidden from your voice and raise your cup to her. “Indeed, I did.”
“You can start with scanning the reports on top of my desk calendar.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” you salute carefully with your coffee hand and wander off.
As you are leaving, Rossi looks to Prentiss with a knowing look. “You do know she might be able to help us with the case. You just don’t want her to.”
Emily heard the unspoken question of why. “We barely know anything about her. I don’t need a wildcard fucking anything up.”
“Emily. Come on. She’s a seasoned CIA operative. We could pick her brain while she’s here instead of hiding her away in your office. Actually use her as a consultant.”
“You just like her because she read your books,” she fires back sarcastically.
“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point…”
1435
Whitlock: I hate this place
You were chatting with Brian on the CIA secure network on your laptop instead of your phone to avoid making Prentiss press as to what you were doing. You even silenced the chat notifications
Korogoth: It’s only the second day.
Whitlock: All I’m doing is reading and paperwork :(
Whitlock: Prentiss keeps socially blocking me!
Korogoth: What does that even mean?
Whitlock: I’m stuck in her office all day and when I need to go do something, she’s always up my ass. And when I’m free and have time to chat the team up, she magically shows up and stops it. It fucking sucks!
Whitlock: Stuffs coming in with the big case and I get to know nothing.
Whitlock: So all I do is read the FBI shit, which I know I need to do and scan in shit. I’m a over qualified secretary
Whitlock: UGH
Korogoth: Regretting it?
Whitlock: Yes
Whitlock: No
Whitlock: Maybe. Helping the families find closure is important tho.
Whitlock: And … I got to speak to Rossi for a sec
Korogoth: … and?
Whitlock: I told him I was a big fan :D
Korogoth: LOL really?
Whitlock: Why is that so funny?!
Whitlock: :P
Korogoth: What did you talk about?
Whitlock: That I read his books and papers.
Whitlock: With the Gideons
Korogoth: *facepalm*
Korogoth: Tread carefully missy.
Whitlock: ;)
Present Day
1145
JJ had returned earlier this morning with Luke and was now sitting with Garcia at her desk in the bullpen. They were focused on whatever was on Garcia’s computer and were animatedly discussing something about a message app behind a weather one.
You start to head over there but Prentiss comes in with Bailey and the deputy director makes a bee line right for you.
Ah, fuck.
You beat him to the introductions and hold out your hand towards him. “Hello Deputy Director Bailey. Special Agent Whitlock.”
“Yes, I know who you are.” He does not take your hand, and you curl it into a fist before dropping it. “I’m surprised it’s taken us this long to be formally introduced.” His tone was dripping with malice as he scrutinizes Prentiss.
Before Prentiss can react, you jump in to defend her. You hate high profile dickwards like him. “Well, there’s a lot going on with orientating me to FBI standards. Can’t go all CIA on your protocols.” You smile patronizingly. “Gotta be by the book, right?”
“Despite her unorthodox addition to the team, it’s prudent her training remains up to FBI standards,” Prentiss adds while Bailey attempts to stare you down.
He wasn’t even pathetically cute. Just … pathetic. The deputy director’s appearance was far too clean cut and pristine. He didn’t have that disgruntled tone that revealed years of field work that jaded an agent. There was no desensitized look in his eyes, just bureaucratic contempt.
“I’m glad to hear that. It takes months for an agent to go through training at Quantico, Whitlock. You wouldn’t want to diminish their hard work with the quick pass you’ve gotten.”
You smile sweetly.
What an asshole.
“We’re all on the same side, even though we’re on different teams, Deputy Director.” You lean forward with promise. “I won’t besmirch the good name of the FBI.”
Then your eyes drag over to Prentiss’ and soften. “I’m here to help.”
1345
You see the team assembled in the bullpen and have no idea what they’re talking about because you are in Prentiss’ office sorting paperwork. Your sincere invitation for Prentiss to trust you when Bailey was here was ignored.
1437
You are slowly dying inside sitting in on a budget meeting with Prentiss …
1634
… and then an advisory meeting with the DOJ. Too bad Rebecca wasn’t here but then that would be socializing.
You two chatted briefly after your first day and made a promise to properly catch up when you could. With your schedules, it’ll be difficult but with how things are going. Well, more her schedule than yours …
1930
You come back from your introspection that had occurred over the last few days and try to focus on the unfinished email you were drafting for Lewis. The problem is that the words remain blurry, and you are unable to concentrate to type the rest of your thoughts. Your thoughts are swimming around the fact that in the three days you have been at Quantico all you've been is snubbed by the woman currently ignoring you at her desk.
You close your laptop and rise to take a seat across from Prentiss. Her mouth hangs open, with what you presume would be a line of questioning as to where you were going to go, and instead found you seated before her. Your boldness took her by surprise.
“Ah, yes?” she asks cautiously. “Something wrong with the lab reports?”
She was well aware if you had an issue with the reports, you would have said something from the couch. As you have done before.
“No. Just, you.”
You know you should be more patient like Brian encouraged you to be. Let Prentiss take the lead and integrate you into the unit. But you weren’t stupid. You can read the room, and the room wanted you far away from the members of the BAU.
Prentiss straightens up with wide eyes at the audacity of your words. “Excuse me?”
“No, you’re not excused. Not unless you can tell me why you’re keeping me all to yourself,” you respond flippantly.
She licks the back of her bottom teeth before it drags along her lower lip. Oh yes, Prentiss is ready to throw down with you. You see how her pupils blow wide at being provoked and she caps her pen before her. “All right. You want to do this? Let’s do this.”
The pen drops, as does the pretense before you.
“I don’t know you. But I do know I can’t trust you. Anyone I can’t trust is a danger to my people and therefore, you get to stay the hell away from them.”
You throw your hands up in celebration. “Finally! A real conversation.” You lower your arms and lean back, resting a leg over the opposite knee. “I’m sorry I can’t be completely forthcoming about everything about me. But that’s not my call. My shit’s sealed for a reason but it’s not because I did anything illegal. I'm sure that's what you're worried about."
“Then why did you need a lawyer?” she presses.
Fuck.
“I can’t say.”
She shakes her head with displeasure. “Of course you can’t. Because good agents don't need help covering up their messes.”
“Oh come the fuck on, Prentiss. Wilson’s a good person. A good lawyer. She helped me because …” You grit your teeth because you need to collect your thoughts before you say too much. You inhale deeply and uncross your legs to lean forward, gesturing with open hands for understanding. “… because it was a call I had to make. Follow orders and have people die. Or I did what I did. Which I was absolved of, ya know. That's gotta count for something?"
Without knowing the exact circumstances of what you did, you weren’t sure if Prentiss would care or not. You could have disobeyed orders because they were truly the wrong call or your superior was compromised in some way, or this was a cover up because you fucked up. You are hoping that she thinks the former because of dropping Wilson’s name as a good person and lawyer. Which is all true!
You watch as she subtly shakes her head, at war with her thoughts. “But there’s nothing about you. You barely exist. I can’t just accept you if there's nothing to back up your claims. So, you’re a means to an end for me. For the BAU.”
Wow. Pretense is so gone now ...
“You know, I’ve been thinking of myself as your highly paid secretary, but hey,” you roll your eyes, “let’s go with CIA sugar mama.”
“See that,” she points at you with indignation. “That right there’s why I can't take you seriously. You’re fucking lack of respect. Making jokes that are way outta line.”
“Oh fuck you and your wine addiction.” Yeah, you went there, gesturing to the half empty bottle. The woman downed a one a night and that was only what you saw. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had more. “Least I use humor to mask the trauma of my past instead of drowning it with alcohol and work.”
“How dare you make fucking assumptions about me,” she snaps, voice raising to meet yours.
You audibly scoff and rise, Prentiss doing the same. “You’ve been doing it the whole time since we met, let alone profiling me. Which I get, since you don’t know shit about me. But at least I was trying to get along with you despite the fucking cold shoulder. I ain’t expecting to be best friends but you don’t need to be a bitch about the situation.”
You turn around to grab your things, knocking over several empty Diet Coke bottles that you balanced on the couch arm.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“Leaving your delightful presence.” You stuff your backpack with your laptop and books. “I’ve had more than enough of this shit.”
You miss the moment of panic on Prentiss’ face since your back was turned. Her mind was reeling with the ramification of what this could mean. Are you leaving for good? If you weren’t working with the BAU on paper the contract would be in breach. Pride kept her from asking you to clarify as she watches you storm off and slam the door behind you.
Emily grits her teeth as she leans over her desk, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She gives up, the anxiety of the situation she finds herself in too much and pulls the top left drawer open of the desk to get the pack of cigarettes stashed there. She quickly lights up and takes a long drag off the cigarette, unable to fight her trembling lips as she blows the smoke free.
“Fuck…”
What was she doing to do?
*High Speed Chase
Chapter 5
#criminal minds#emily prentiss#criminal minds evolution#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily x reader#emily x you#emily prentiss x female reader
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THE TUTOR
pairing: virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader. being the straight a+ student you are, you're asked to tutor the most difficult student at hawkins - Eddie Munson. word count: 3.6k. warnings: (18+) p in v, oral, fingering, body parts described, light cussing, probs misspellings.
“Y/n, come talk to me please,” Your teacher Mrs. Bennett asks, as you stand up from your desk. The bell had just rung, signaling that it was time to head to your next class. English was the class that just concluded, your favorite course for the semester. English came to you with ease, and you enjoyed to book you were reading so far.
You walk up to Mrs. Bennett’s desk. “You wanted to speak to me?”
Mrs. Bennett nods, taking her glasses off. “I’ve received another request for an English tutor to help… an older student.” You had been a peer tutor since your first year of high school, now entering your fourth year.
You cock your head to the side, “An older student?”
Mrs. Bennett nods, “Yes; Eddie Munson.”
Your mouth slacks open, “You want me to tutor Eddie Munson? Hasn’t that been proven to be impossible?” You had heard from the small group of peer tutors that Eddie Munson had been proved to be a challenge, either showing up to tutor sessions smelling of weed or not showing up at all.
Mrs. Bennett frowns, shaking her head. “Let’s be forgiving, y/n. Plus, all the students like you; your success rate is the highest of all the tutors. I thought you would be up for the…challenge.”
You re-adjust your attitude, “Of course, Mrs. Bennett.”
“Good,” Your teacher says, now smiling. “You should meet with him starting today, every day for the next couple of weeks. He really wants to graduate finally and a lot of his English grade rests on the final quiz.”
You nod, listening closely.
“-And here are the books his class is reading,” Mrs. Bennett says pushing a small stack of books towards you, “With tests quizzes to help further progress along.”
“Great, I’ll start today,” You say, “Thank you, Mrs. Bennett.”
Mrs. Bennett leans forward, “Goodluck, y/n.”
You back up from the desk, heading towards the door. On top of everything else you had going on; you didn’t need to be tutoring the Eddie Munson.
You enter the hallway, dodging students that are rushing to their next class. You make your way to your next class, which was just down the hallway, thinking about your plan to help Eddie pass his last English class. Eddie was 20, failing to graduate two or three times, and he barely has the patience to pay attention.
You make it to your next class, taking a deep breath in hopes to make it through the rest of the day. Which you did, your last two classes flying by quickly. Once your last class concludes, you made your way to the library in attempt to find out Eddie’s schedule and where to find him.
When you push the door to the library open, you see Eddie standing at the desk. You hear the desk attendant say, “That’s her there,” and point to you.
Eddie turns around, scanning you up and down. “Are you the poor soul who is going to attempt to help me pass my English class?”
You nod, “That would, sadly, be me.”
Eddie tucks his hands into his pockets, “The enthusiasm is overwhelming.”
You shift the books that Eddie’s class in reading in your arms and you place them on the table that is nearby. “So, shall we start?”
Eddie shrugs, coming over to the table and sorting through the pile of books you put down. You watch his nimble fingers, covered in big, metal rings, flip through the pages of the books, his shirt pulling up at the sleeves to reveal the tattoos of a cluster of black bats on his forearm.
You had always heard rumors about Eddie Munson and his club, that were mostly started by the basketball team, and you always found him mysterious. You never believed that he was a freak like they called him, or that he was a devil worshiper. You knew that he lived in a rough neighborhood, the trailer park off of the highway, and that his uncle was his guardian. You always thought that those facts could impact the way a person acted.
You are brought out of your thoughts when you notice Eddie waving his hand in front of your face. “Helloo, y/n?”
“Sorry,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s start.”
Eddie eyes you suspiciously, but sits down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table. You roll your eyes, sitting down as well. You flip through the book that Eddie’s class was reading, remembering when you read the book a year prior.
You begin your tutoring session, making connections between the reading and the discussion questions that were in the papers that Mrs. Bennett has given you. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he listens to you. You look over at him after a few minutes, “Are you even listening?”
Eddie kicks his feet of the table, leaning forward onto the table, his face only a few inches from yours. “I’m listening.”
You clench your jaw, backing up a few inches. You shake your head, starting to get frustrated, “Look, I’m not the one about to miss graduation for the third time. I’d suggest paying a little more attention.”
Eddie smiles, amused by your attitude. “It’s a little hard when a girl as pretty as you is talking.”
You roll your eyes, having heard about Eddie’s playful, flirty side. You had also heard that he was equally shy. “Eddie, seriously.”
Eddie laughs, “I am being serious.”
You ignore him, continuing on with summarizing the book, writing down short notes for Eddie to refer to and study. You continue on like this for the next hour, the hallway quieting down as everyone has gone home. You decided it was best to end the tutoring session, Eddie’s attention starting to fade away.
“See you tomorrow?” Eddie says, collecting the notes you had made for him. You nod, heading towards the library entrance. “Same time, same place.”
You pushed the door open, and head out of the library. The hallway was significantly cooler then the library and you felt your cheeks blush when you thought about Eddie’s compliment. You shook it off making your way home.
When you get home, your mom is waiting for you, bouncing your younger sibling on her hip. “Where have you been?”
“I had a tutoring session; sorry I’m home late.”
Your mother passed your baby sister to you as she stirred the pot that was boiling on the stove. “I just found out I have a meeting tomorrow at the same time you normally tutor so I need you to cancel so you can watch your sister.”
You roll your eyes, strapping your sister into her highchair. “I can’t just cancel, mom.”
Your mother sighs, looking over her shoulder at you. “I know you’ll figure just something out. Just be home right after school, okay?”
You nod, leaving the kitchen to head up to your room.
The next day of school went by quick, your mind occupied with solving your study location issue. After your fourth-class finishes, you step out into the hallway, joining the crowd of students. A few feet away, you see Eddie standing with his friends, seemingly his club members by their matching shirts, and you make your way towards them.
Dustin, one of the boys standing around Eddie, nudges Eddie to alert him of your presence. Eddie turns around to greet you. “Y/n,”
“Eddie,” you say, taking a peek at the couple of boys that stood behind him. They all stare at you with curiosity. “I need to switch where we’re meeting later. Can you come to my house instead of the library? I have to watch my sister for my mom.” Dustin’s mouth slacks slightly at the sound of you, a girl, inviting Eddie to your house.
Eddie nods, his eyes scanning your face. “Yeah, that works. What your address?”
You rattle off your address, starting to back away. “Come around 4,” you say, hoping your mom would be gone by then. You weren’t sure what she’d think about inviting a boy over when she wasn’t there, even if it was just for a tutor session.
The rest of the day blew by and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your mirror that stood on a stand next to your dresser. You toss your hair, leaning in close to inspect the lip gloss you just applied. You shake your head at yourself, catching yourself primping for Eddie. Downstair, you hear someone knock at the door. You glanced at your clock, seeing that it was half past four.
You jog down your stairs, hoping the knock didn’t wake up your infant sister who you had just put down for a nap. You open the door and Eddie is leaning in the doorway.
“Hey,” he says, stepping around you to enter your house. “Nice place.”
“Thanks, now be quiet, I just put my sister down for a nap.”
“Sorry,” He whispers, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.
“Follow me,” you say, guiding Eddie up the stairs. You lead him into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly.
“So, this is the princesses’ room,” Eddie says, taking a look around your room. He seats himself on your bed, picking up your stuffed bear that rested near your pillow. Eddie smiles, making the bear waves it’s hand at you. You roll your eyes, sitting next to him on your bed. “Hand me your books,” you say, putting your hand out.
Eddie unzips his bag, pulling the books out. He hands them to you, your fingers brushing his. You pause as Eddie glances at you. Your faces are only a few inches apart, close enough to notice that his clothes smelled like cigarettes mixed with laundry detergent. Your breath hitches, and you cough to break the silence. Eddie blinks out of his trance, pulling out the notes you had made for him the day prior. “These were really helpful when I looked them over last night, thanks.”
You nod, “Good; of course.”
Again, another instance of silence occurred, and you glance at Eddie to see he’s looking at your freshly glossed lips. “Eddie, are you ready?” Eddie jumps slightly, turning his head to his laps where his notebook lays. “Yup, ready.”
You blush, wondering what Eddie was thinking while he looked at your lips. You begin to start your tutoring session for the next hour, Eddie actively paying attention. You felt like you and Eddie were making good strides and you felt confident enough to interrupt and initiate a snack break.
“Do you want water, soda?” You ask Eddie, standing up from your bed.
Eddie shrugs, “Whatever you have, I’ll have too.”
You nod, moving to leave your room. You take a trip downstairs, grabbing two soda cans from the fridge. You run back up the stairs, taking the stairs by two, and enter your room again. Eddie stands at your dresser, picking up the small picture frames of you and your friends at the beach. He notices you walk in and moves back to your bed. You walk over to where he sits, on the foot of your bed, and hand him a soda can. Again, your fingers brush Eddie’s.
You lift the tab, opening the drinking hole, and Eddie does the same. You take a sip, realizing how thirsty you are. Eddie leans back against your bed foot-frame, glancing at you. You lean back on your hands, creating extra distance between you and Eddie.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Eddie asks, boldly
You swallow your sip of soda hard, making eye contact with Eddie. “No; why do you ask?”
“Because you don’t have any photos of guys, it’s just you and your friends,” Eddie says simply.
You glance at your dresser full of picture frames, and then back to Eddie. “Yeah, no boyfriend.”
Eddie continues to stare at you, and you squirm under his attention.
You break the silence, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You feel foolish asking, but why couldn’t you ask too?
Eddie scoffs, turning his attention away from you. “Like anyone would date a freak.”
You frown, “That can’t be true. You’re a good-looking guy.” You blush when you realize what you’ve said. Eddie glances at you once again, a curious look on his face.
“You think so?” Eddie says, leaning forward, closing the gap between you and him. His face is only a few inches from yours, sending the scent of his cigarettes and laundry detergent back to you. He placed his can of soda on the ground, right on your white shag rug.
You nod, letting him invade your personal space. Suddenly, you feel the intense urge to let him truly invade your personal space, your attraction to him causing you to lean close to him. In an instant, your face was only an inch from his. You had very little experience with guys, and you assumed Eddie had no experience with girls, yet you felt confidence of an experienced women. You didn’t know where these feelings came from, but you wanted to explore them more.
You push your lips into Eddie’s, and in an instant he responds to your gesture. Your lips move roughly with his, Eddie’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You sigh at the feeling, your stomach forming a knot in anticipation. Eddie pushes you back, your back laying on your bed.
Eddie kicks his shoes off, climbing on top of you. You arrange your body in a way that allows him to nestle himself on top of you. Eddie cups your face with his ring covered hand, deepening the kiss. You feel his nerves showcasing themselves in his movements, each touch un-confident and inexperienced.
Eddie moves his hands down further from your face, never breaking contact with your lips, as he cups your breast over your shirt. Your body reacts intensely to his touch, your body craving him. You break the kiss with Eddie to lean up and lift your shirt up and off. Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of your bra-covered chest, and you lay back on your bed, letting your fingers play with the bottom of Eddie’s t-shirt.
Eddie gets the hint and lifts his shirt off. You reach out, cupping his face and guiding him into yours. You feel Eddie harden in his jeans as your almost bare chest presses against his. Your core aches for Eddie’s touch, every touch becoming more desperate.
Eddie feels hunger for you too, his mind in autopilot. His fingers toy with the band of your jeans, his nimble fingers moving to unzip your pants. You help him by wiggling out of your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. You thank yourself for picking out your decent underwear, so you didn’t embarrass yourself.
You spread your legs open wider, Eddie settling himself between your thighs. Eddie moves a hand to let his hand grope you between your thighs. You moan softly, sending Eddie into a tizzy. Eddie pulls his big, chunky rings off, letting them drop to the floor. He pulls your panties to the side, letting his fingers plunge into you.
You gasp, your hands clutching your sheets. Eddie breaks the kiss, your mouth agape as you breathe heavily. He peppers your neck in kisses, letting them trail to your chest and between your breasts. Eddie’s fingers move out of you in a rhythm, pressure beginning to build in your abdomen. Your hips jut up, expressing how you were experiencing pleasure from Eddie’s touch.
You feel the urge to taunt Eddie, drawing him in to pull his pants off and pleasure you. You lean up again, un-clipping your bra. Your breasts fall out and Eddie is quick to move his kisses on your nipple. Eddie, takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue across your bud. You place your hand into Eddie’s long, curly hair, pulling him further onto your chest. Eddie feels your desperation radiating off your skin, laced in every movement you make. He pulls away from you, standing up next to the bed to unzip his pants, leaving him in his boxers.
You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie’s tent in his black boxers, and you forget that you’re essentially naked in front of a boy for the first time. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, kneeling below you. You part your legs to allow for more space on the bed. He kneels, moving your legs so they rest on his shoulders. He hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while he makes eye-contact with you. He flicks your panties to the ground, leaving you completely naked.
Eddie gazes at you for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body. He moves to hover over your body, aligning himself with you again. His face dips down, his lips meeting yours once again, and you take the opportunity to hook your fingers into his boxers, pushing them down his thighs. He helps you, kicking them off, letting them fall to the floor. Eddie trails kisses from your lips to your neck and you take the initiative to look at Eddie’s cock. Your stomach clenches at the sight of it, its large size intimidating you.
Eddie, nuzzles his face into your neck, leaning on his arm. “Can I?”
You nod, spreading your legs open to let him in. Eddie lines himself up with you and you take a deep breath. With one swift push, Eddie enters you, his size demanding your sex to adjust to fit his size. You grab on to his bicep, squeezing it roughly as you react to the slight feeling of pain.
Eddie starts out with slow thrusts, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you. You moan softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Eddie sighs too, the feeling of you clenched around him sending shivers up his arms and down his torse.
“Fuck, Eddie.” You say, your back arching. Your nipples graze his chest, and Eddie takes notice. His pace quickens, his movements a little rougher.
Your fingertips graze his sides, his warm skin feeling hot against your cold, exposed skin. Eddie initiates another kiss with you, and you lean into it. Eddie’s strokes continue, sending pleasure up your body. Your head was spinning with thoughts but all you could think about is how your body fit perfectly with Eddie’s.
“You feel so good, y/n,” Eddie mutters against your lips.
Your skin flushes at Eddie’s comment, your thighs clenching around his waist. Eddie’s movements weren’t enough for you, your body craving more. You maneuver your foot between his and use it as leverage to move yourself on top of Eddie. Now, Eddie lays on his back, his face expressing shock from the whirlwind you sent him in. You sink down on the length of his cock and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.
You begin to rock back and forth, like you had seen in the movies, and knew you were doing it right by the way Eddie reacted to your movements. You grasp Eddie’s hands, moving them to your waist. Eddie’s grasp tightens around your hip bones, helping you set the tempo.
Eddie moans loudly, one of his hands moving to your backside. Eddie sits up, colliding his lips with yours. “I’m close,” Eddie says, between kisses.
You sigh, wishing the moment could go on forever. You lean back, creating inches of distance between you and Eddie. You let your fingertips graze his cheek, taking in his features. He was truly a beautiful person.
You push him back, moving from your position on his cock. Eddie frowns, missing the feeling of you clenched around him. You back up, taking his length into your hand. Eddie shivers under your touch, watching you take his member into your mouth. His fingers intertwine in your hair, pushing you down further. You bob your head, discovering your love the action of giving head.
Quicker than you wished, Eddie comes in the back of your throat, his hip jutting up to push his entire self down your throat. Now, you missed the feeling of him moving in and out of you, your mind full of filthy things you wanted to try.
You stand up, feeling awkward and exposed all of a sudden. You pick your panties off the ground, stepping into them, and put your t-shirt on over your head, leaving your bra on the floor. You toss Eddie’s underwear to him, and he catches them, his eyes lingering on you.
“So..” Eddie says, sitting up and swinging his legs to the side of your bed.
You look up at him, a small smile on your lips, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t know what to say, not knowing how the moment got so out of hand. You were studying, drinking soda, and then before you knew it you were naked, Eddie deep inside of you.
“We should probably continue studying tomorrow.” You say, leaning against your dresser.
Eddie frowns, cocking his head at you. Your mind is in a flutter, your eyes gazing at Eddie’s barely clothed body. “You’re really going to graze over what just happened?”
Your eyes shift, going from Eddie’s eyes to the floor. “I don’t really know what happened, honestly.”
Eddie laughs, once again amused by you. “I think we should do it again; after I take you out on a date of course.”
Your eyes snap to his, your eyebrows raised. “A date?”
Eddie shrugs, picking his rings off the floor. “Would you be interested?”
You didn’t even have to think about it. You were intrigued by Eddie, his mysterious and complex persona pulling you in. You also didn’t mind that he had just performed perfectly in bed.
“I’d love to.”
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson stranger things#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you
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Write a fic about where you are attending kindergarten and then there's a rat fighting off foot ninjas
and then TMNT x reader
Ninjas In Kindergarten (Angst?/Crack?/Fluff?)
Bayverse!Turtles x reader
A/N: In honor of the second rat we found in the toilet today, along with the signs of rats in the other parts of the kindergarten, daycare and staff room, I bring you this. I’ve changed it from Foot ninjas to a mouser, and brought the turtles in just for the fun of it. And oh yeah, they brought the rat hound in again. IT FOUND ANOTHER RAT WHILE WE WERE THERE. What an internship. It isn’t boring I tell ya.
Btw, me and the kids are now joking that it's Master Splinter’s unmutated family that wishes to recruit ninjas on their own. These little ninjas now do a double check before using the toilet.
Warning: Kids in danger, crying children, and spelling like always.
It was a surprisingly calm day for a Monday in a kindergarten. All handovers of the kids from their parents had gone smoothly, with the kids happily playing together on the mats, the pillow room or the play kitchen. Even the girl that tended to cry whenever her mother dropped her off was in a somewhat good mood, drawing with her two best friends at one of the tables.
You sat by the play kitchen area, plastic food all around you as the boys and girls around you handed you food, acting as if you were the only guest in an overstaffed restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the adults cutting up fruit, while another one brought more pencils to the drawing table, all while the third one was changing diapers on the three youngest kids.
It was nice to finally have a calm day at your internship. The past few weeks had been somewhat chaotic. Not so chaotic that you couldn’t keep afloat, but enough to make you very tired whenever you finally got home. But damn it, these sweet kids made the whole ordeal worth it, only making you excited for the day you would have your own.
You and your boyfriend had started to talk about children. Nothing was set in stone yet, but the topic had been up several times. Well, if it was possible that was. With your boyfriend’s… less than human nature, none of you were sure that a child would even be possible. But nonetheless you dreamed, finding your heart jump whenever one of the kids accidentally called you mom.
“(Y/N)!”, one of the girls at the table called out, running to you with the drawing in her hands. Her 4 year old face, bright eyes and happy smile shined proudly as she held up her drawing for you. It was a blob of colors with no form of meaning, but nonetheless she was happy. “I made it for my mom!”
“Woooow!”, you smiled, leaning forward to show interest in the paper and the many doodles on it. “Did you really make that all by yourself?”
“Yes!”, she said with a little happy jump. “All by myself!”
“I think your mother is going to like it a lot”, you said, smiling as another kid handed you yet another piece of plastic food, adding it to the growing pile in your lap. “I think you should put it in your drawer. Then mommy will know where it is”.
“Okay!”, she smiled, running to her drawer with a skip in her steps.
With the paper in one hand, she opened her drawer, only to jump back with a scream, causing you and the other adult to jump, all turning your attention her way, all the kids doing the same in quiet shock. In her drawer was a mechanine, the size of a mouth, with one bright red lamp where its eyes should be, walking around on two feet. You jumped at the sight, knowing exactly what it was. You had seen such a thing several times with your boyfriend and his brothers, during your run ins with one certain scientist.
You quickly ran to the girl and pulled her back, just before the mouser jumped out of the drawer, snapping out at you. All the kids let out a scream, running for the farest corner in order to get away from the mouser.
In one swift move, you pressed the number that the turtles had given you onto the keyboard, sending an alarm signal to the ninjas, before giving the mouser a hard kick as it tried to get near you and the poor crying girl.
“Up on the tables!”, you yelled over your shoulder to the three other adults, quickly helping the girl up on the nearest table, before helping the next kid. “Keep the mouser away from the kids!”
And so you did, getting all the kids up on the tables, ignoring the questioning looks from the other pedagogues, as they wondered how you knew what that thing was.
You got the last kid up on the table, kicking the mouser back once more, before quickly jumping up on the table to the kids, before it could bite at your ankles. The kids on the table hug you tightly, crying as the mouser started to bite at the wooden legs of the table, trying to get it to fall.
Suddenly the door swung up, revealing your mutant turtle boyfriend in the front and his brothers right behind him. The moment he spotted the mouser at the feet of your table, he jumped into action, smashing it into pieces with his weapons, causing the room to fall quiet. Thankfully the kids weren't crying at the moment, but you could tell by the looks on their faces that the sight of four mutant ninja turtles would soon cause another round of crying.
“So”, you said, trying to defuse the building intensity in the room. “Kids, this is my boyfriend. You know, the one that was a little different with strong muscles? That is him”.
Your boyfriend waved at the kids with a somewhat awkward smile. When he and his brothers gave you that emergency number, he had never thought he would have to come and save you, three pedagogues and a bunch of kids from a rogue mouser.
To his surprise, one of the kids poked at him, staring at him with their big eyes and runny nose, not fearing his big frame as he looked at them.
“Are you green because you ate broccoli?”
“Yes”, your boyfriend answered with a smile, before knocking on his shell. “And I got this from drinking coconut milk”.
“Oh boy”, was the only thing you could mutter, before the questions came flying, all of the kids wanting to learn about your strange boyfriend and his brothers.
It didn’t take long before the kids started playing with your boyfriend and the other turtles. With Mikey they took turns to jump on the smashed mouser, laughing loudly at the sounds it made. Donnie drew with girls, taking a look at the drawing the girl from before had made. Raph played a throwing game, throwing the kids into a pile of pillows one by one, while Leo was making a tower of building blocks with the quiet kids, their eyes growing wider the taller the tower got.
It was safe to say that you would have to bring your boyfriend and his family to your internship a little more often, especially when the kids started screaming and asking you to bring them once again. There was nothing you could do. The kids had turned into big fans of the ninja turtles. And it was adorable.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt mikey#tmnt leo#tmnt x reader#tmnt bayverse#tmnt bayverse x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt raphael x reader#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt michelangelo x reader#tmnt bayverse donatello#tmnt bayverse donnie#tmnt bayverse donnie x reader#tmnt bayverse donatello x reader#tmnt bayverse leo#tmnt bayverse leonardo x reader#tmnt bayverse leo x reader#tmnt bayverse leonardo#tmnt bayverse raph
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La Princesa
[Ona Batlle x Reader] Part 1.5 of [She's going to be okay.] [Royalty] [Angel in the House]
Days with La Princesa!
“Patri! Help me with the cake, will you?” you yell through the house. Lucy is helping Kiera bring out the hors d'oeuvre as you were tasked with the massive cake Alexia had gotten. Ona’s mother insisted on having dinner with everyone so a large table was set up outside. The whole team was here, some of your England teammates had made the trip too since the party was during Christmas break.
Speaking of Ona, she was sat on the back porch with a virgin margarita in hand chatting away with Alessia, Ella and Grace. Leah was helping set the table as Georgia fanned away at the barbeque. There wasn’t a quiet corner anywhere, everyone buzzing since the announcement of the baby’s gender. La Princesa was the talk of the town, Ona’s hand rubbing her belly affectionately every time anyone spoke about her. It was a new habit, one that you had many pictures of on your phone.
There were steaks, seafood and piles of vegetables as everyone helped themselves to all the food. You were cutting up some steak for Ona (because she’s the OG La Princesa) when Mapi cleared her throat at the end of the table. Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes when she stood up, signature grin on her face. This couldn’t be good.
“I would like to propose a toast to our team mom and dad. Y/N, you take care of us and make sure we’re okay. You notice things that many people would simply ignore. You’ve been there for us more than we deserve. Ona, you’re always ready to help any one of us at the drop of a hat. You are the sweetest person I know, I love you for that. The two of you are perfect together, no need to thank me for setting you two up. But because of that I propose we name La Princesa after me. Thank you, I love you both, ¡Salud!”
“As touching as that was Mapi, we are not naming our daughter after you.”
“A middle name will do.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay, okay! We have presents to open, cake to eat! Let’s head inside!” Leah called, ushering everyone inside as the girls began to quickly clean up. Once everyone settled inside, you helped Ona on the couch beside you, wrapping your arm around her shoulders as she leaned into you while everyone else brought over their presents.
“Are you okay, darling?” you ask her, kissing her forehead softly as you rub her arm.
“Sí, she’s been kicking a lot. I’ve also needed to pee too many times today.”
“Our little footballer. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, mi amor.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you of just one name; we are Spanish, she can have several names.”
“No, Mapi!” you both yell at her, Ingrid yanking her to the kitchen to help serve the cake.
//
“Oh Patri, it’s adorable!”
“How did you even get that?”
“Mamí, Esto es perfecto!”
“Girls, I didn’t think they MADE these!”
You heard Ona and the girls opening gifts in the living room. You were putting away all the extra food in the kitchen when Alexia walked in with another dish. She smiled awkwardly, being quiet. You didn’t push it, wiping your hands and moving the containers into the fridge. Suddenly she cleared her throat and you turned to look at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ona told me.”
“What exactly did she tell you?”
“That you wanted me to be La Princesa’s godmother.”
“Oh, yes. Do you want to be?”
“It would be my greatest honor. But, why?”
“When we were thinking about it, only you came to mind. Don’t get me wrong, I would die for all those girls out there and I know they would do the same for my family. But I know without a doubt that if something happened to me, my girls would be safest with you.”
“You are my family too, I will protect them with my life; I promise you.”
“I love you, Ale. You’re a sister to me, I don’t think you understand how important that has been to me over the years.”
“And you for me, hermosa. I love you too.”
//
“Baby? We’re home, love.” You shook Ona softly and as she woke, you walked over and opened her door for her. She climbed out slowly, feet swollen and aching from being on them all day. She was too stubborn to ask you to carry her, walking gingerly into the house. You were grabbing stuff from the boot of the car when you saw her walking slowly. You put everything down and walked up beside her, gently picking her up into your arms. She giggled and held onto you as you walked into the house with her and laid her in bed. She kissed you cheek and whispered an accented “thank you,” before you walked back out to grab all the gifts and bags from the car. Dropping them on the dining table to be dealt with tomorrow, you walked into the bedroom to find Ona already asleep again.
Chuckling, you slowly take her shoes off and slip your jersey she was wearing off before pulling on one of your hoodies over her small frame. It swallowed her but she snuggled into it anyway. You make quick work of yourself, changing into shorts and a sports bra before climbing into bed behind her. She searches for you in her sleep, reaching out and holding onto your arm as she goes back to sleep. You smile fondly, hand rubbing soothing circles over her belly and whispering “I love you girls,” before falling asleep yourself.
//
“That’s not the right one.”
“What do you mean, this is exactly what you sent me to get.”
“No, I wanted the blue one, this is red.”
“Angel, you asked for red.”
“I remember asking for blue, Y/N.”
You sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. Ona was having a bout of crazy cravings that began at 3 in the morning. She sent you to the shops to look for Chips Ahoy (a/n don't ask, they are my current obsession.) the other night but they didn’t have them so you bought a different kind and put it on a plate for her with a glass of milk like she requested. She took one bite and knew they were wrong, immediately starting to cry.
“Please Mi Reina, it’s late. You have a checkup tomorrow, we need to sleep.”
She sniffled, “But I wanted Chips Ahoy.”
“I know baby but all the stores I went to didn’t have them. I’ll go look tomorrow and buy them for you, okay? Please darling, you need to sleep.”
“You better buy all the Chips Ahoy you can find, amor or it’s the couch for you.”
“Yes, your highness.”
//
“Love, please stop moving.”
“You try sleeping with a literal football inside you kicking like there’s no tomorrow.”
“When we have a second baby. What can I do for you?”
“Talk to her please. She always calms down when you do.”
You throw the covers off and move over to lay between her legs. You can just about see her face above her belly. She's smiling, eyes sparkling as she watches you talk to the baby. You rest your head on her thigh, left hand holding Ona’s, right hand rubbing her belly softly.
“Hello princess, it’s Mama. I’ve missed you, you’re getting so big already. I had a pretty good day at training, met all your aunties too. They can’t wait to meet you, you’re going to be the most spoilt little girl out there. Now, mami is trying to sleep okay? She needs her energy so we can see if you’re being a good growing girl tomorrow hm? Can we put your striker skills to the side and let your beautiful mother sleep? That’s my girl. I love you, I can’t wait to meet you.” You kiss her belly softly, leaning over and kissing Ona too.
“For your information, she’s going to be a defender.”
“Please darling, she’s already showing signs of being a wonderful striker like me.”
#ona batlle#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle imagine#barca femeni x reader#fc barca femeni#woso soccer#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso x reader#fc barcelona femeni#fluff
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