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punkshort · 1 month ago

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Evergreen | Chapter Five: Acceptance

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: It's almost Christmas, so you take the time to reflect on your accomplishments while enjoying the peaceful life you've created with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: language, soft!joel, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, Christmas, so much fluff it hurts

WC: 5.1K

Series Masterlist

"Alright, try some of this."

Ellie set down her spiked hot chocolate on your kitchen counter and stood to take the spoon from your hand. She blew on the soup before sampling a small taste and vigorously nodding her head.

"That's fucking amazing, we should make that a regular item."

You grinned and tossed the spoon in your sink before maneuvering around her to reach the spice rack. Your new house was just a two-bedroom ranch and the small kitchen took some getting used to, but you finally made the rented space feel like home. Although when you and Ellie occasionally found yourselves crammed in your kitchen to test some new products for the food truck, you couldn't help but long for the beautiful kitchen you used to have.

"I think I'll add this and take off the turkey chili, it doesn't do too well," you said before turning to your fridge and scribbling something on the white board. It was close to Christmas and you had already introduced your cold-weather menu for the food truck, but you were always actively looking to make tweaks where it was needed.

"Sarah really likes the chili," Ellie reminded you.

"I'll make her a big batch and divide it up so she can freeze it when she goes back to school."

"Is she helping out on the truck tomorrow?" Ellie asked before picking her hot chocolate back up, then she wandered over to your living room to examine some ornaments on your tree.

"Yeah, she's helping all day. Joel's gonna get a kick out of seeing her on the truck for the first time," you laughed. You checked the time and turned off the burners before lifting the huge pot of soup with a grunt and setting it on an unused side of the stove to cool. Joel and Tommy's crew were working on a retail storefront and you had promised to stop by with the truck for lunch the following day. You had figured it was in a busy part of town and you were hoping to also capitalize on all the holiday shoppers.

Chicks 'n Chicken specialized in, well, chicken, as the name implied, but when the weather turned colder, you realized sandwiches just wouldn't cut it for the winter, so you began to add soups and stews to pair with your signature sandwiches like The Ellie, The Sarah, and The Joel. It was the first big idea you had when you finally took the plunge and started a food truck: every sandwich was named after someone important to you, including sandwiches named after Mia and Daniel.

At first, it was hard. Really fucking hard. Harder than you expected. There was so much to do behind the scenes: bookkeeping, inspections, keeping the truck and your machines up to code just to name a few. Joel was a huge help with the business side of things and you were eternally grateful for his insight. In return, you let him be your taste-tester, a job he adored and took very seriously.

Once you got the boring stuff out of the way, things got much better. You hired Ellie to assist you, and even her girlfriend Dina worked part-time. The two of them painted the truck these gorgeous, vibrant colors and helped you design the menu, and before you knew it, you were up and running.

The first couple weeks were slow and steady. You didn't expect to make much right off the bat, but you would have been lying if you said you weren't slightly disappointed you didn't do more business.

But then Sarah and Ellie came to the rescue, and your entire world changed.

They had clued you in to the latest social media app and helped you create an account. They must have been avid users because they always knew what was trending, which is how you managed to create a video that went viral overnight. It was the three of you doing some silly dance to a song you had never heard before inside the truck. When you watched it, you cringed and begged them to delete it, but they promised it would be a hit. And boy, were they right.

Just a few months later, you were closing in on one million followers. The girls kept your page fresh and relevant and if you were a lesser person, you might have been a little put out that your marketing degree essentially became useless when competing with two girls in their twenties who were apparently chronically online.

But you absolutely loved it. You were beyond thrilled you had been so unexpectedly successful so quickly. It was the best gift you could ever have received, and you told them so every time they pestered you for Christmas gift ideas.

"Your parents coming up for Christmas?" Ellie asked when she spotted a framed picture you had of them next to your couch.

"Uh... my mom is, yeah," you said, dusting your hands on the sides of your jeans as you moved around your kitchen. Ellie picked up on the tone in your voice and swiveled around.

"But not your dad?"

You shook your head and pulled out the biggest Tupperware containers you could find.

"No. He's not thrilled with some of the choices I've made," you told her, keeping your gaze focused on your work so she wouldn't see the hurt in your eyes.

"The food truck or Joel?"

You cleared your throat and shrugged. "Both. He thinks I'm investing Daniel's money in something where I'll end up failing and he is not okay with Joel being a few years younger than him."

"Shit. I'm sorry," Ellie said softly, joining you back in the kitchen. "That's fucked. But at least your mom sounds cool, right?"

"Well, she's coming around to it. It'll be her first time meeting Joel and I'm really hoping once she sees us together and how great he is, she can report back to my dad and maybe change his mind."

"Ha, no pressure, right?" she laughed. You grinned and finally turned to face her.

"You know what? I'm starting to not even care. Is that bad?" you asked with a guilty look on your face. But before she could answer, you continued. "I mean, I'm happy. I'm successful. Joel and Sarah are amazing. Should I even care if they agree with my choices or not? I'm an adult. I don't want to ruin my relationship with my parents but I'm not willing to sacrifice my own happiness for it."

"Hell yeah, man," Ellie said while toasting you with her hot chocolate. "You got the right headspace. Therapy is doing you good."

"Yeah, surprisingly, it kind of is," you said with a chuckle. An alarm went off on your phone and you glanced at it curiously before your eyes widened in panic. "Shit! I promised Joel I'd be over for dinner, I gotta clean up and get the hell out of here." You snatched your apron off and then your eyes locked onto the huge vat of piping hot soup on your stove.

"I'll handle it. Go!" Ellie said, waving her hands. "I'll lock up before I leave."

"Are you sure?" you asked, but you were already backing out of the kitchen.

"Absolutely. I'll watch some movie or something while I wait. Dina's working at the bookstore til ten, anyway."

"You're the greatest, Ellie, thank you!" you called over your shoulder as you disappeared into your bedroom to change.

"How is it you look prettier every time I see you?"

You giggled when Joel's scruffy beard scraped against the side of your neck, then melted into his arms when they circled around you from behind.

"Did you know you left the oven on? You're lucky you didn't burn the place down," you teased, tilting your head to give his lips better access.

"I was just takin' a quick shower, I knew there was plenty of time left."

He wasn't wrong. The lasagna he made still needed fifteen more minutes. Joel had actually gotten a lot better at cooking over the last few months. He liked to give you all the credit since he spent so much time watching you in the kitchen test new dishes for the food truck.

"And look at that," he murmured when he glanced at the timer. "Still got extra time. Any idea what we should do?"

"Are you looking to get dessert before dinner?" you asked, feigning shock. Joel chuckled against your throat before pressing himself against your ass and - shit, he wasn't joking.

"Been almost a week," he groaned against your ear. "Missed you so fuckin' much

"I missed you, too," you whispered before twisting around in his arms. You pressed your lips eagerly against his, getting lost in the familiar way you fit together. Whenever you were with Joel, your soul felt at peace. Everything seemed to make sense again and any stress faded away. But those things were difficult to explain to your parents without sounding insane, so you stopped trying, perfectly content with keeping the happiness he provided just between the two of you.

You blamed your weak resolve on the fact you had a stressful few days without him, craving the comfort only he could provide. That was why you found yourself less than five minutes later straddling his lap on the couch with your jeans abandoned somewhere on the floor behind you. Joel didn't even take his pants off all the way. He had shoved them down to his knees in a frenzy, desperate to feel you again after a long week.

The air stilled when you sunk down on his cock, the both of you too caught up in the feeling to remember to breathe.

"Oh, baby," he breathed, head tipping back to rest against the back of the couch. "Oh, that's it. That's my girl. There you go," he whispered, eyes glued to the way he disappeared inside you. You shifted and a small whimper slipped past your lips, pulling his gaze back up to you.

"How is that? Feel good?" he asked while circling his arms around your waist. You hummed and nodded before you started to move a little in his lap. You went slow at first while sharing deep, messy kisses. The hair from his beard burned your chin when he pried your mouth open wider, tongues swirling together amongst shared moans.

His big hands spread wide over your ribs, holding you against him to feel as close as possible while you slowly rocked your hips. He finally gave you a chance to breathe and broke the kiss, but then his mouth trailed down your throat and you held your breath anyway when his teeth grazed against the sensitive spot he made a mental note of last time.

"Missed you," he reminded you again as his lips ghosted over your collarbone. "Missed this. Missed feelin' this close to you."

"I know," you gasped, hands grabbing at his shoulders when he mouthed at your breast through your shirt. You started to move faster, encouraged by the delicious sting from his bite. "Fuck, Joel, do that again. Please," you whined.

He smirked and did the same playful bite to your other breast, cock twitching inside you when a low moan slipped past your lips.

"You like that?" he pressed. He loved it when you lost yourself in the moment, too engulfed with pleasure to hold yourself back. When he had you like that, you had no trouble asking for what you wanted. Your polite little filter vanished and you allow yourself to be selfish, to take what you want to make yourself feel good, and his chest puffed with pride every single time that you would choose him to be vulnerable with. You chose him to seek out everything you desired. You trusted him.

"Yes, Joel," you rasped. Your head was tipped backwards and your eyes had slid shut as you began to bounce faster on his lap. "Yes, Joel, I love it. I love it. Fuck, you feel so good. I can't - ah! - Christ, Joel, I love you-"

Time stood still with your words sitting heavy in the air. It took you a few seconds to realize what you said, then your eyes snapped open and you slapped a hand across your mouth in shock, hips freezing mid-air.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, staring down at his surprised expression. "I didn't mean for that to be the first time-"

"But you did mean it?" he asked, stopping your muffled ramblings. Slowly, you nodded with watery eyes. He yanked your hand off your mouth and pulled you down for a searing kiss.

"I love you, too," he whispered happily against your mouth. His hips began to rock up into you, encouraging you to move with his hands firmly on your waist. "Keep going. Want you to come for me," he said with a grunt, lips still hovering centimeters away from yours. You nodded and began to move again, chasing the release you were moments away from tasting before you had panicked and stopped.

"C'mon, make yourself feel good. Take what you need, baby," he groaned when you bounced faster, breasts swaying underneath your shirt right in front of his face, teasing him. He lunged forward and pinched your nipple between his teeth right when his thumb began to work quick circles over your clit. You cried out his name, fingers clawing at his shoulders until he finally heard that content little broken moan and your release slowly trickled down his cock.

"Shit - gonna come," he growled. His hand left your clit so he could wrap both arms tightly around your middle, using you for leverage as he roughly fucked up into you. You had sagged forward, head resting on his shoulder while placing sweet kisses against his throat. You heard his harsh pants for air in your ear and smiled at the soft noises he made right before he stilled with a loud groan, pumping you full of his seed until his shoulders relaxed and he leaned back tiredly against the couch.

Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, turning his face towards you for a lazy kiss before whispering I love you one more time.

"I love you so goddamn much," he sighed, making you giggle. You pushed yourself up with a sigh, feeling groggy and satiated. You were in the middle of lovingly tracing the creases next to his eyes while he gazed up at you when the timer on the stove went off. You both groaned, neither of you ready to pull apart just yet, but the last thing you wanted was the smell of burnt lasagna permeating the house for the rest of the evening. With a gasp, you lifted yourself from his lap and turned to hunt for your panties on shaky legs.

"Go clean up, I got it," Joel said, standing and pulling his jeans up the rest of the way. You nodded and waddled towards the bathroom with your clothes while he tended to your dinner in the kitchen.

"So, you're comin' by the site tomorrow?" Joel confirmed around a mouthful of food. You nodded, only half listening to the television, your brain still blissfully quiet from earlier.

"Yep. Then after I'm meeting with this woman from the paper. They want to run a small piece on the truck, talk about the viral stuff, all that."

"My girl's gonna be in the paper?" Joel asked excitedly. You laughed, wanting to tease him for being one of the few people who still read an actual newspaper, but his support for you and your dream was so sweet that you didn't want to ruin it.

"Yep. Maybe even a picture, too."

"Well, damn. Look at you," Joel said softly, and you smiled at the tender look in his eye. "Gonna be famous. Can't wait to frame it. I'mma put one in my office at work and one here," he told you matter of factly. He pointed to the mantle, currently adorned with garland and christmas lights, where an old picture of him, Sarah and Mia sat, along with a picture of Tommy and Maria from their wedding day.

"I get to be on the mantle?" you asked excitedly.

"'Course you do. Woulda been up there sooner if we ever took a decent picture together."

"We take tons of pictures together," you began, but he quickly waved you off.

"And in all of 'em I look like shit."

"You do not! You look better than me most of the time with that goddamn smirk of yours," you teased, pinching his side when you added, "and you've lost almost twenty pounds."

Joel just laughed and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, taking your plate and stacking it with his before turning his attention towards the television. His thumb drew mindless circles over your arm and you listened to the peaceful, steady beat of his heart with your ear pressed against his chest.

Closing your eyes, you breathed deep and thought back on your life from the past several months. You had some curveballs thrown at you, sure, but given the circumstances, you were pretty damn happy with where you ended up: curled up next to the man you loved, listening to him mumble the wrong answers to Jeopardy amongst the twinkling lights from the Christmas tree.

"Howdy, girls!"

"Hey, Uncle Tommy!" Sarah called down from the window of the food truck. He grinned at her crooked black cap stitched with your company's name and logo on the front. Wild little pieces of hair stuck out from underneath, framing her face which was dusted with flour.

"Looks like you're workin' hard," he said, waving when he spotted you hurrying by behind her.

"It's crazy busy! We've been moving non-stop since we parked!" she exclaimed.

"Well, get ready, 'cause I just brought twenty hungry construction workers," he replied while jutting his chin down the sidewalk where his crew had been carefully walking around piles of snow that had been packed down and pushed around by the feet of holiday shoppers.

"Good timing, 'cause we just got through the lunch rush," she said before straightening up and turning to you and Ellie. "Hey, guys - my dad and his crew are on their way! Want me to drop some chicken in the fryer?"

"Yeah, toss in a tray of breasts and a tray of tenders to get us started," you said, wiping your hands on your apron before turning to Ellie. "And-"

"Yeah, I know, I got the bread out of the oven already."

You grinned and turned to give the three soups of the day a quick stir and did a quick check on the stock of paper products, confirming you were in a good enough spot to take on another wave of business when you heard a woman's voice call your name from the sidewalk, stopping you in your tracks. When you saw it was the reporter you had promised to meet with for the write up she was going to put in the paper, you felt your heart sink.

"Carmen, hi! We're getting another rush, I'm so sorry!" you said while leaning through the window to shake her hand. "Can I get like, twenty minutes?"

"Of course!" Carmen replied. "I have some shopping to do anyway, take your time."

You were in the middle of expressing your thanks when the truck was suddenly bombarded with Joel and Tommy's crew, their deep voices laughing and talking over one another while Ellie began to take some orders at the register. Before you got back to work, you spotted Joel and excitedly waved him over.

"Hey," you grinned as you practically hung half your body out of the window to grab his face and pull him in. He chuckled and leaned up to kiss you, his cold lips pressing against yours and urging them apart so he could slip his tongue inside your mouth.

"Hey! People are tryin' to eat!" Tommy laughed while playfully swatting at Joel's shoulder. You both laughed and pulled apart, too giddy and love drunk on each other to care.

"You're cold," you said after you pulled yourself back inside the truck. "Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, please," Joel replied, eyes glittering with pride as he watched you move around the truck. When you stretched forward to hand him the cup, you winked and said, "On the house."

"How's the job going?" you asked as you worked on slicing up the bread Ellie had pulled from the oven. Tickets fluttered in front of you and Sarah gave Joel a big smile and wave when she dropped off chicken fresh from the fryer.

"Alright. Glad we're workin' inside today but place ain't rigged for heat yet so we're makin' do," he replied, taking a sip from his cup. "How's business?" he asked, nodding towards the truck. His eyes drifted fondly over the front where you had printed out the menu in huge letters. Every time he saw his daughter's or his wife's names, his throat tightened. You didn't have to name dishes after them, but you did. Practically insisted on it. It made him emotional back then and it continued to make him emotional whenever he saw it.

"Great! I was hoping to capitalize on holiday foot traffic and boy, did I."

Your eyes were glued to your work, chopping and slicing, making sandwiches and wrapping them in paper while scooping out soup from the huge vats behind you and bagging everything with ease.

You were in your element. This was what you were meant to do.

"Joel! Did you order yet or what?" Ellie called from the register.

"He always gets the same thing," Sarah reminded her with a playful hip check. Ellie rolled her eyes and stifled her grin.

"Oh, yeah, duh. You," she said, narrowing her eyes in your direction. You felt your cheeks warm and you smiled but kept your focus on your work.

"You don't always have to order my sandwich, you know," you teased him.

"Now how can you blame me when you taste so damn good?" Joel smirked from the sidewalk, instantly eliciting a groan of disgust from each of the girls.

"He means the sandwich!" you laughed, feeling all flustered and praying your embarrassment didn't show.

"Do I?"

"Joel!" you hissed with wide eyes as Sarah called him gross and Ellie covered her ears. He threw back his head and laughed while you shook your head with a permanent smile stretched across your face.

This is true happiness, you thought. This feeling could never be topped.

Once Joel and his crew ate and slowly disappeared back down the street towards the storefront they were working on, you washed your hands and checked your reflection before stepping out of the truck with your coat draped over your arm. You glanced around the now mildly crowded street, searching for Carmen and smiling when you locked eyes with her a few doors down carrying a couple shopping bags.

"Perfect timing," you said when she was within hearing range. "Thanks again. My boyfriend is working around the corner and brought his entire crew."

"No apology necessary," she replied warmly, then glanced around with a shiver. "Mind if we pop into this coffee shop? Shouldn't take more than half an hour."

You happily agreed and followed her inside the warm café, breathing in deep the scent of cinnamon and smiling to yourself when you heard the faint sound of Christmas carols filtering through the speakers.

Carmen wasted no time. She dove right in, asking you how you came up with the idea for the food truck and then segueing right into the viral video Ellie and Sarah created that got you such a cult following. You explained that Ellie was a friend, leaving out how you met for her own privacy, and how Sarah was Joel's daughter.

"I'm noticing these names are familiar," Carmen said with a smile.

"Yeah, I named sandwiches after important people in my life. It felt like a sweet way to honor them and express my gratitude," you explained. Carmen hummed and reviewed her notes, phone recording quietly on the table between you.

"May I ask, then, who are Mia and Daniel?"

You cleared your throat and gave her a brave smile.

"They're no longer with us," you began. Softly, Carmen murmured, oh, I'm sorry, while scribbling something on her notepad. "It's okay. Daniel was my fiancé. He passed away over a year ago from a car accident. And Mia was Sarah's mom."

Carmen nodded thoughtfully as she continued to write.

"Oh, so you knew Sarah's mom, too?"

"Well, no," you said, "but based on how much Sarah and Joel have told me, it feels like I've met her."

"That's sweet," Carmen said, letting her pen drop on her notepad. "And these sandwiches - do they reflect anything significant about the people they're named after?"

"They do," you replied while straightening in your chair. "I tried to make the sandwiches based on each person's preference. For instance, Mia loved spice, so hers is a fried spicy chicken sandwich with chipotle mayo. Which I find hilarious because neither Joel or Sarah can handle any amount of spice," you said with a soft laugh.

Carmen nodded and laced her fingers together.

"And how about the sandwich named after you?"

"Well, that was the very first one we created and decided should be on the menu," you said. "I hadn't even thought about names yet but the girls convinced me I should name it after myself and I guess they've got a knack for persuasion."

Carmen laughed and you felt your shoulders relax a bit, not even realizing you were tense until that very moment.

"Well, it's incredible, I must say. I was sneaky last week and got one for myself when you were out on Brunswick."

You gasped, feigning dismay and making her laugh.

"Thank you, I'm so happy to hear that," you replied with a wide smile. "It happens to be my boyfriend's favorite, too."

"Joel doesn't order The Joel?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

You shook your head and tried to forget his earlier comment when you said, "Guess not. But he helped design The Joel. In fact, he also helped with The Mia. Sarah did, as well."

"That's so lovely to hear," Carmen said softly, pressing her lips together and leaning forward. "I think it's such a wonderful detail, by the way. How the two of you came from relationships that ended in tragedy and managed to find peace and happiness with one another. And to honor your partners in this way is incredible."

"Thank you," you answered. Your chest warmed at her compliment. "Even though I never met Mia, she was important to the people I love the most, and therefore, she's important to me. Joel and Sarah feel the same about Daniel. Grief is a complicated thing, but I like to think I've found a way to live beside it."

Carmen smiled and dropped her gaze to the table. "That's so comforting and reassuring to hear. And an incredible quote to leave me with because it looks like our time is up."

"Quote?" you asked with a tilt to your head.

"I usually like to run a quote from my subject as my byline," Carmen said while she packed up her things. She began to stand and you stopped her.

"Wait - could I give you something else to put as your byline instead?"

She grinned and sat back down before pulling out her phone and pressing a button.

"Of course."

One Week Later

"You nervous 'bout your mama comin' up?" Joel asked, tugging you closer to his side as you walked up the snowy sidewalk.

"A little," you admitted. "But whatever she ends up thinking doesn't matter. I love you, Joel," you said, tilting your chin up to meet his eye. "I love you and nothing is ever going to change that."

He smiled and gave your lips a quick peck as you rounded the corner, closing in on the nearest grocery store.

"Well, back in my day, I used to be a big hit with a girl's parents."

"Oh, yeah?" you teased.

"Yep. They all loved me. I'm real respectful, you'll see."

You wanted to tell him to just be himself and to not stress about your mother's visit, but you knew there was no use. He was going to do everything possible to win your mother over and while you found it admirable he cared so much, you didn't want him to feel like he needed to make your parents come around. In your several talks with Ryan in therapy, you had come to the conclusion that nobody's approval was needed for you to be happy. It would be nice, sure. It would make holidays and special occasions easier. But nothing was going to change anything between you and Joel.

"Alright, now. Here we go," Joel said excitedly when the automatic doors slid open and you were met with a blast of warm air. You grinned and squeezed his arm while letting him drag you towards the newspapers and magazines. You both scanned the rows of periodicals before Joel spotted it first and grabbed the whole stack. He handed you the extras and eagerly flipped through the pages of the one on top before he paused with a slow smile.

"What? How does it look? What picture did she-"

You cut yourself short when you peered over his shoulder. Your breath hitched and you caught Joel's eye before looking back at the page.

Unbeknownst to you, Carmen and grabbed a quick shot of you leaning out of the food truck to kiss Joel. You were both smiling as snow lightly fell around you, the background highlighted by twinkling Christmas lights and laughing holiday shoppers. It looked like a photograph straight out of a movie: two people finding a quick moment for love in the midst of a busy street.

"You think that's a good enough picture of the two of us?" you asked, looking up at him adoringly, but his focus was on the byline. His eyes kept scanning the words over and over until you swore you saw tears begin to cloud his vision.

"You like it?" you found yourself whispering. He swallowed and nodded, bottom lip quivering before he let the paper drop to his side so he could cup your jaw and pull you in for a kiss.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you, too," you said softly against his lips. He gave you one more kiss before he sniffled and opened the paper again so he could reread the words:

This was all made possible because of Daniel, who taught me what true love is, and because of Joel, who showed me love during my darkest days - I owe you everything.

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#joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #comfort Joel #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #the last of us au #joel miller au #joel miller angst #Joel miller grief #the last of us angst #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #evergreen fic #joel miller smut

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planetsano · 1 year ago

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synopsis ⌒ ⭑⭒ (name)! (name)! what’s it like being a water girl for blue lock 11? being the sweetest little mascot the whole team wants to put their cock in?

warnings ⌒ ⭑⭒ female reader, gang bang, orgy, group sex, double penetration (same hole, vaginal sex), anal sex, spit, oral sex (giving and receiving), squirting, mlm sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, love triangle, pining, very girly hyperfeminine reader, aged up characters, pro au, mdni.

pairing(s) ⌒ ⭑⭒ rin itoshi x reader x isagi yoichi (main), blue lock 11 x reader pairings, various x pairings.

word count ⌒ ⭑⭒ 11.2k.

Being Blue Lock 11’s water girl was honest work.

How (Name) got the job honestly wasn’t because of any credentials or any kind of degree to further her chances, but instead, she had a pretty face and the personality of a golden retriever puppy which made it very easy for her to become sort of a “personality hire.” Ego knew it was a position that had to be filled but he didn’t want to do it himself. The trivial and petty details needed to be taken care of and that’s exactly what she handles. Water Girl is the official title but these days you’ve almost become more like a personal assistant to the team in various ways.

(Name) has come a very long way since her very first day. It’s not that she was bad at her job per se— but she’s clumsy and a little.. airheaded. (Name) would often do things like trip over her own feet and send the things she was holding flying into the air. The sweet thing couldn’t help it too much. How could she? She was nervous and wasn’t the athletic type, never was, and never will be.

Now it’s been about a year since then and she’s a bonafide professional! Or so she likes to say.

Her morning started the same as any other, with the soft chimes of her pastel-colored alarm clock gently pulling her from dreamland. Stretching like a content kitten, she hopped out of bed, excited to start her extensive morning routine. The first stop was her vanity table, adorned with all sorts of makeup and skincare products. She giddily picked up her favorite rose-scented cleanser and began washing her face, humming a cheerful tune to herself.

After the refreshing cleanse, she moved on to the rest of her skincare routine, carefully applying toner, serum, and moisturizer, all infused with the latest beauty trends— she’s been on his K-beauty kick recently. With a smile, she looked at her glowing reflection in the mirror, already feeling ready for the day. Next came the fun part— makeup. She typically liked experimenting with different looks, and today’s theme was soft and flirty, with a touch of shimmer.

(Name) meticulously applied foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and a winged eyeliner. As the finishing touch, she added a glossy, bubblegum-pink lipstick to complete her signature look. She already had what she was wearing planned— her favorite pair of high-waisted, blush pink leggings that hugged her curves just right and a matching sports bra completed with a white, knitted cropped sweater. Simple, comfortable, and cute. There wasn’t much else to it.

(Name) was soon grabbing her car keys, the cutest keychain from her collection dangling from the D-ring. Her tote bag was slung over one shoulder, filled with her daily essentials like lip gloss, a compact mirror, a cute notebook, and her iPad. She held a large basket in her arms filled with goodies for the team. (Name) practically spent all night preparing everything! She worked hard on these cupcakes too.. they better enjoy them!

She headed out the door, hauling everything to her vehicle. As she approached her car, she couldn’t help but smile at the glossy black paint and the adorable heart-shaped air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. It looked significantly better after the repair— but it wasn’t her fault! That pothole was in her way.

Despite all that, she loved her car! Even though she wasn’t much of a car girl to begin with— decorating made her feel like she was driving in her little wonderland. However, she still needed to call her dad when the mechanic was speaking in literal tongues every time she went in for an oil change.

After loading everything into her car, she made sure to bring a tumbler of her favorite homemade French vanilla iced coffee, a protein bar in case she got hungry, and a playlist of her favorite songs ready to accompany her on the ride. As she buckled up and turned on the engine, she couldn’t resist taking a moment to check herself in the rearview mirror. Lip gloss tended to make its way on other parts of her face— so cute but messy at times.

Upon getting there, she types in the code to gain access to the training facility. The electronic lock emits a soft beep, and the heavy metal door slowly hisses open. Stepping inside, the air is noticeably cooler and filled with a faint hum of machinery. Fluorescent lights line the corridor, casting a sterile glow on the metallic walls. She made her way down the halls to her “office.” It was just a locker somewhere tucked away near the staff’s office.

Ego used to be able to tolerate her in his office but he ended up getting her area because he just couldn’t handle the chatterbox she was and the playful antics that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. She was trouble and Ego was well aware. Her presence had a way of brightening up the most serious of situations and while some appreciated her for it, Ego found it a constant distraction. No matter how attractive she was.

Her locker was decorated with a collection of cute stickers, fairy lights, and a small potted plant. Fake, of course. She placed all her things in the space before heading to the team’s locker room. The automated light system turns on revealing rows of neatly arranged lockers, each placard with the team members’ names.

The hum of ventilation filled the air as she walked further in, her footsteps echoing off the polished tiles. The scent of fresh laundry and a hint of antiseptic cleaner lingered, creating a familiar and almost comforting atmosphere. She knew that within these walls, victories were celebrated and defeats were dissected. As she glanced around, memories of past games and silly stories flooded her mind, a small smile gracing her lips.

(Name) made her way through the rows of lockers, the soft, ambient light from the overhead fixtures casting gentle shadows. All boys got their small gift bag with items that were tailored to their personal preferences plus a cupcake she spent all night baking herself.

After that was all done, she grabbed the clipboard ornate with all sorts of cute stickers courtesy of her and notes scribbled on by the team with Blue Lock’s logo etched into the back. She went over the checklist for the day, as she stepped out of the locker room. It only took a few strides down the hallway to get to the equipment room, where a manicured finger grazed over assignment number one.

The first item on the list was to prepare the team’s water bottles. It usually consisted of making sure to fill their bottles with fresh, ice-cold water and lemon and then arrange them neatly in a cooler outside. Also filling up a “refill station” cooler that the team could use throughout practice.

It wouldn’t have been so much of a pain if it didn’t have been carried to the training field.

“Oh great.” She pouted softly. She had to do this all by herself? She can lift it but did she want to? No, her nails don’t have insurance. She looked at her Apple watch with furrowed brows, one of the early birds should be arriving soon...

“You need to stop leavin’ us this sugary shit all the time, princess,” Raichi says. He’s leaning up against the wide door frame, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the pink frosted cupcake up to his lips. Half of it is gone, clearly signaling he started devouring it on his way to the equipment room where she was.

“Jingo,” (Name) breathes out his name in a sugary and needy cadence— relief. Her voice is sweet like honey to Raichi’s ears but he’ll never say it to her face. There’s just something about the way she says his name that scratches a certain part spot in his brain and in return he finds himself feeling a particular way. He’s prickly because he’s 50/50 in his thoughts about her. On one hand, he’s almost certain that she knows exactly what she’s doing, and he can’t stand that her charms have this much of an effect on him. On the other hand, he’s not sure. There’s this doubt that she knows her effect and it pisses him off to no end that he can’t fully read her intent.

Usually, he can easily deem someone an “asshole” or not but when he looks at her, all Raichi is met with are these pretty eyes and he doesn’t see any hidden intent. It’s quite the opposite and in return, it evokes feelings of wanting to protect her. Raichi is quite the.. character though, everything must be difficult with him. It’s just in his chaos-inducing nature. His mental process is: she can’t not know how hot she is but there’s also this… air about her that makes people compelled to feel endeared by her. Simply making the notion of her using her visuals to essentially influence people to get what she wants goes against why the guys can’t help but dote on (Name).

He watches her stance as she dusts her hands together before aimlessly wiping her palms on the material of her pale pink Spanx. The look on her face screams damsel in distress— pretty pout on her glossy lips and her brows pinched in a furrow. (Name) didn’t catch what he said to her previously, clearly wrapped in her little conundrum of how she was going to get this to the field by herself before practice started.

“Can you help me, pretty please? It’s too heavy to lift on my own.” She says. He chooses to stay silent, merely looking at her with slightly raised brows as he finishes the last of the pink velvet dessert in his hand.

“Please? I made you cupcakes!” (Name) stomps her foot a bit, finding herself a little frustrated because her time was ticking and practice was starting in less than thirty minutes at this point. Ego liked to give her a hard time about her time management, even going as far as to mention a replacement if she “couldn’t get her act together.” It was an obvious scare tactic, he was just annoyed with her performance as it was not up to his standards. Everything under Ego’s ship had to be executed to his liking and he wouldn't settle for less.

“You made everyone cupcakes.” He deadpans as he balls the wrapper up and tosses it into a nearby can. His eyes trail back to hers after the fact.

“But that one was special because it had your name on it and I made it specially for you.” He can’t lie, she’s adorable. The way her demeanor is in the moment, slowly becoming more and more frustrated with his lack of cooperation. Not to mention the way she misuses the word— something she’s been saying for a while in the way she uses it so confidently.

“Specially?” He questions, pushing off the door frame so he can enter the room in its entirety. “It’s especially, you ditz.” He closes the gap between them, only leaving a couple of centimeters between their respective frames, and (Name) feels like she can feel his body heat radiating from him, she was always convinced that his blood ran hot just like his temperament. She doesn’t budge though, only continuing to stand her ground with the cutest little scrunched-nose smile. She was attempting to hold it back which made Raichi offer her the smallest bit of a smirk.

(Name) was a flirt and she was good at it.

“Move out of the way.” He mumbles surprisingly softly, his head tilted downward as he looks at her. He does so until he tears his eyes from hers to finally get his hands on the water cooler. Now that he has it, he sees that it may have been too heavy for her to carry by herself. Raichi lifts it with ease though, his biceps contracting as he does so. “Come on, I’m not hauling this shit outside for you by myself.”

As they walk side by side with each other down the empty hallway, Raichi’s eyes begin to drift to her more than he’d like. In the brief moments that it happens, his golden-yellow irises study his favorite parts of her face. The long lashes that seemed to flutter upon her upper cheeks with every blink she took, the cutest nose that she liked to put the tiniest bit of blush on, her pouty lips that were tinted with a light cherry shade— it made Raichi sick the way she so effortlessly made him feel. Despite her looks, there had been something irritating him; something that had been on his mind for a while he just couldn’t shake. Raichi was never the type to beat around the bush and become passive in his feelings. He would address this eventually when they’re met with the field.

The blond places the water cooler down in its designated spot at the end of the benches where the paper cups had been already placed.

“Hey,” Raichi calls for her, his expression unreadable as he looks at her.

“Hm?” (Name) looks at him with curiosity, her hands shading her eyes from the sun and her lips parted slightly.

“Is it true you’re fuckin’ Isagi?” He has no shame in the question but it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock from his lack of general etiquette to begin with.

“You! Are such a guy, Jingo!” She says incredulously, giving him a playful shove to his shoulder.

“What? It’s a question.” His brows are low, not finding an ounce of humor in his query.

“Isagi is sweet.” She responds.

“That ain’t what I asked you.” Raichi raises a brow.

“Why does it matter, huh?” (Name) lets out a little laugh, tilting her head a bit.

“It matters because I’m askin’ you.”

By this point, it was no real secret that quite a few of the guys harbored feelings for (Name) over time. She was just too good at what she did. Her bubbly personality and genuine kindness leave an endless trail of admirers in her wake.

The way she interacted with each member of the team made them feel special as if they were the only ones in the room. Her charisma was magnetic and drew people in effortlessly. Her “innocent” flirtations, the playful twinkle in her eyes, her infectious laughter— it had a way of making the guys’ hearts race.

“Oi, oi, oi. Less talking, more working.” Tabito whistles at the two as he approaches them, a few more boys trickling in behind him.

“Shut up, dickwad.” Raichi quips.

“No fighting, please.” (Name) sighs as she lifts a sheet on her clipboard.

“Hey.” Tabito’s voice rang out as he sauntered over to where (Name) stood not too far from Raichi.

She glanced up, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Hi, Tabito.”

He stretched his arms outward casually, his arms folded across his chest. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Mmm, nothin’—” (Name) replied with an innocent shrug, her eyes sparkling upward at him as she grinned down at her.

Raichi rolls his eyes at the interaction, choosing to lace up his cleats. His nasty expression contradicted the light-hearted banter in the room. He watched as (Name) and Tabito exchanged playful words, his gaze flickering between them and the task at hand.

As the banter continued, Raichi’s mind wandered back to the countless moments he had witnessed between (Name) and the other guys on the team. He couldn’t deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at him, though he did a good job at keeping his emotions hidden behind his rough exterior. It seemed as though it were the Hunger Games when it came to (Name), and she was the prized gem whether she realized it or not. Raichi had a hunch that he wasn’t the only one who’d been smitten with this broad— for a while.

The boys continued to trail in one by one, sometimes in pairs like Reo and Nagi. But (Name) continued to do her daily checklist without issue as they all became settled— doing warm-ups until Ego showed up.

Practices were usually easier to handle than official games. It’s understandable; there’s high pressure and strain put on the players which essentially makes (Name)’s job, a real job. Tending to their personal needs was all that mattered as far as she was concerned. She had witnessed the team’s transition from practices to official games countless times, each time realizing just how much pressure and strain the players were under. Her role extended beyond just providing physical support; she was there to offer emotional support as well, ease pre-game nerves, and make sure that each player was mentally prepared to give their best on the field. Men are typically.. less in tune with their emotions than women are. It helps.

(Name) had taken on the role of the Blue Lock’s unofficial mascot because of this, particularly in Bachira’s eyes. However, there was a not-so-subtle undercurrent of aggression amongst some of the guys and Bachira. he had a way of hugging and showering her with affection that seemed innocent and endearing, but those who knew him well were aware that he knew exactly what he was doing. He expertly played the role of an adorable puppy causing a bit of mischief— something everyone adored, yet his intentions were akin to a mischievous younger sibling sticking their tongue out at their older sibling behind their mom’s back, knowing full well the game he was playing.

“(Nickname)!” Bachira says in a sing-song tone as he approaches from behind, covering her eyes with his hands. He gives her a cute smile as he looks at her from over her shoulder. “Guess who?”

“Bachi?” Her little name for him makes his heart skip a beat, an excitable giggle leaving his lips as he uncovers her eyes. She turned to face him and couldn’t help but smile as Bachira enveloped her in a warm embrace, their cheeks pressed together in a hug. His personality was contagious, and his affectionate demeanor always managed to tickle her spirits.

“Pretty, pretty girl~♡” Bachira’s playful tone made her smile softly, the endearing nickname earning a sweet laugh from her. She takes his face into her hands, smiling as she squishes his cheeks together.

“Weren’t you supposed to tone your hair a couple of days ago?” (Name) teased, an amused glint in her eyes as she ran a hand through his bangs— the color still a brassy yellow shade.

Bachira’s expression turned sheepish, and he scratched the back of his head with a bashful grin. “Ah, yeah, about that… I kind of forgot about it~ I need your help. I’m not good at this stuff like you. Come over and help me.” Before she could answer, she’d been cut off by a familiar voice.

“Come over without me too, Meguru? Cheating on me right in front of my face?” (Name) and Bachira both turned to find Isagi, walking over with a small smile on his face.

“Yoichi! Hi,” (Name) said, her voice sounding almost dreamlike as she greeted him. Her heart raced in her chest as she looked at him, but she couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement wash over her— good and tingly feelings all over.

No doubt about it, Isagi held a special place in her heart. Raichi's intuition was spot on, their bond was undeniable. They enjoyed their time together; both.. inside and outside the bedroom. However, it wasn't an official relationship per se. They danced on the fine line between friendship and something more, both enjoying the freedom that came with it.

Honestly, it was a connection built on physical attraction initially, and over time a genuine care for one another formed, making it all the more sticky especially for (Name) for.. various reasons. Isagi was the kind of person who could effortlessly bring a smile to her face and warmth to her heart, she felt like she was a little girl in school again. Something exciting to keep her anticipating what’s to happen next. It also helped that Isagi was cute as a button.

It happened at an after-party of a press conference nearly half a year ago— the drinks had been going and the two had gotten very close as the night progressed. All it took was a single look at him through her lashes and one too many flirty touches left on his arms and chest. He asked if she wanted to leave early and she agreed without a second thought. Of course, they played it off nicely, leaving not at once but one by one about ten minutes apart. Isagi fucked all her sorrows away, leaving both of them tangled into the sheets breathless. It’s been like this ever since but, Yoichi does have plans.

“Don’t hog (Name) all to yourself!” Bachira punched his shoulder, his tone had a teasing lilt to it.

“I don’t hog her, you little..-” Isagi reached over to put him in a light headlock, the both of them giggling and playing like they were still kids at recess. She smiled as she looked on at the two, feeling grateful that they found each other when they did.

(Name) looked over her shoulder and happened to lock eyes with the ever-so-brooding captain of the team: Rin Itoshi. Her smile falters a bit, brows pinched in a displeased furrow as a heavy feeling settles in her chest, leaving her feeling a bit helpless. She didn’t like the feeling— she didn’t like it at all. She was a relatively happy girl who didn’t like being taken out of character, she prided herself in that.

“So, (Name), are we helping Bachira with his hair today?” Isagi asked, his curiosity piqued. His voice held a hint of playfulness, but underneath, there was a trace of vulnerability. He’d been testing the waters—wanting to see whether or not he could crash this little “private party.”

As he spoke, Isagi’s eyes flickered between (Name) and Bachira, trying to gauge their reactions. His grin, although friendly, was subtly tinged with an edge. It wasn’t just curiosity driving him; it was jealousy that simmered just beneath the surface. In the moments that followed, Isagi’s body language revealed more than just his words. He subtly moved closer to (Name), not wanting to be left out of the conversation or, more importantly, her attention.

“Huh..?” She turns her head back to Isagi and Bachira, shaking her head as if she’d been trying to snap out of something. But Isagi had already noticed that she seemed off like she was bothered by something or rather someone.

“Oh, sure— if Bachi doesn’t mind.” There’s a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. By this point, Bachi managed to wriggle free of Isagi and made his way over to talk to Nagi and Reo who weren’t too far from where they stood.

“Hey,” Yoichi calls for her gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m okay.” She answers as she nods her head. Her smile seems more genuine this time, not like before a few seconds ago. Maybe she’s managed to suppress whatever she had been feeling— a fleeting wave of emotion only elicited by a trigger.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, his voice lowering an octave or two. He just barely takes a step closer, pretty blue eyes filled with worry.

“No, Isagi,” she answered delicately, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of her hair. “Why would I be upset with you?”

Isagi's concern deepened as he noticed her anxious gesture. He reached out, gently touching her arm. “Just making sure..”

(Name) glanced down at his hand on her arm, a fleeting moment of comfort in his touch. She sighed and looked away, her gaze fixating on a nearby bench.

“Is it about him?” Isagi asked.

“What?” Her brows furrowed and she followed his gaze to the distant figure of Rin. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Is it about him?”

“I'm not talking about this right now, Isagi,” (Name) replied, her eyes returning to Isagi's, a mixture of emotions swirling within them. They were narrowed, threatening him silently. It had been an almost incredulous expression as if she couldn’t believe that he was choosing to carelessly bring this up right now of all times. Isagi was a smart boy, he knew to leave it. (Name) kept a leash on him in a way, despite the sweetness of her demeanor and face— she was capable of having a mean streak.

As the team was immersed in their practice drills, the words hung in the air like an unspoken echo.

“Isagi!” Reo calls him over, both her and Isagi looking over to where the trio stood.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Isagi says, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he gives her a final glance before jogging away.

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The training facility buzzed with energy as the team went through their practice drills, Blue Lock’s technology seamlessly integrated into every aspect of their training. The walls of the facility were adorned with holographic screens that displayed real-time data and strategy simulations. The air was filled with a familiar sense of intensity only they understood as the team, focused on honing their skills for the upcoming game.

As the practice session neared its end, (Name) caught sight of Ego observing from a distance. He stood by a large holographic display, analyzing the players’ performance metrics. They managed to exchange eye contact which is when Ego signaled to (Name) to come where he stood. She nodded in acknowledgment and made her way past the field. She’ll never get over just how tall he is in comparison to her as she practically cranes her neck to look up at him.

“See me in my office in five minutes.” He requested, adjusting his glasses further onto his face with his middle finger. Ah, he was so intimidating sometimes— especially when his glasses had a glare. Ego was nice enough to her though, even if he was a little scary.

“Okay!” She nods quickly as he dismisses himself, barely giving her enough time to acknowledge his request.

Reo had been watching the exchange from a distance and couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her— he walked over a piece of minty gum being chewed by his pearly whites. With a grin, he asked, “In trouble?”

(Name) giggled at his words. “I hope not,” she replied.

He leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if you need someone to come to your rescue, you know where to find me,” he said, popping his gum. “You know how intense Ego can be.”

She matched Reo’s gaze, tilting her head, and offered a gentle pat on his cheek. It was how seemingly ignorant she was about little things like eye contact; a historically intimate, sometimes even taboo action. Reo recognized that he was flirting quite openly, fully aware of it. However, her natural charm had him feeling somewhat.. disoriented one could say. He’s almost certain that she wasn’t picking up on his advances but rather, she was just being herself. Reo felt like he was out of his league, realizing he needed to step up his game to get his point across.

“I'll remember that,” she replied, a hint of playfulness in her tone. As Reo pondered how to navigate her, (Name) continued the conversation with a hint of innocence that seemed to come naturally to her.

“So, Mr. Shining Armor,” she began, a playful twinkle in her eye, “If I ever need, like, an alibi or something, you’d totally have my back, right?”

Reo grinned. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’d hire you a lawyer if you really needed it, but you’re a good girl, no? You wouldn’t even need an alibi to begin with.”

A playful pout formed on (Name)’s lips as she huffed out her cheeks and stomped her foot in playful protest. “Says who! I can hang with the best of them!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve got about two minutes to get to Ego’s office.” He says matter of factly.

“What! You’re lying!” Her demeanor shifted to one of mild panic as she glanced at the time on her wristband. With a swift and almost comical spin, she hurriedly dashed off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. “I’ll talk to you soon!”

She made her way to Ego’s office, knocking briskly before letting herself in. His office was a blend of sleek design and advanced functionality. The walls had the same interactive screen she had seen earlier. The AI was amazing, she had never seen anything like it until she landed this job. It was capable of anything it seemed, projecting game footage, tactical analysis, and real-time player stats that all just scratched the surface of it. Ego pulled up her “profile” one day, it had information that she didn’t even give consent to give out. Weird? Yes, but she’s seen worse since she started here.

As she entered, the screens adjusted to her presence, dimming slightly as if they were on standby mode. Ego stood at his desk, which was more like a command center with all of the digital interfaces and gesture controls. He motioned for her to take a seat, and she obliged, settling into a chair near to his own. Ego’s gaze met hers, his usually stern expression softened slightly by the bluish hues of the various screens.

“I wanted to talk to you about something important, (Name).” She listened attentively as Ego spoke to her.

“A very important game is near, so I need you on your A-game, (Name),” Ego said, making her furrow her brows just a bit in curiosity. “Yes, you’re the appointed water girl; however, you’ll also have other duties such as acting as an.. on-call personal assistant of sorts. I need you to keep them happy and stress-free no matter how ridiculous their requests are.”

“Requests?” She blinks at him and tilts her head.

“Yes.” He didn’t seem as though he was willing to explain. Ah, of course. Ego never liked to be questioned anyway.

She let out a sigh but her usual warm smile appeared once again as she reassured him, “You can count on me, Ego! ” A cute smile grew on her lips, and she saluted him playfully. Ego’s eyes rolled at the gesture, though a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.

“Alright, enough theatrics,” he said, his stern exterior softening just a touch as he adjusted his frames. “I trust you, (Name).”

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The final whistle blew on the starry-lit soccer field, the tension of the intense match at an all-time high as Blue Lock emerged victorious. The crowd roared with excitement and the stadium lights illuminated the scene like a grand stage. The team had just delivered a performance for the ages. The players had gathered in the center of the field, their eyes still shining with the intensity of the match— the pure satisfaction and euphoria coursing through their veins. It felt as though the energy surrounding them had been visible, deep blue. Signifying power, confidence, and authority. All things that they had been representing in that very moment as they went home with the win, the opposing team had long since exited the field leaving Blue Lock to celebrate amongst themselves.

They all exchanged sloppy hugs and high-fives, congratulating each other on a game well played— jumping on each other and dog piling on top of one another.

Isagi couldn't tear his gaze away from (Name) who had been working just as tirelessly throughout the game— an essential presence on the sidelines throughout the night. Her eyes sparkled with pride and admiration as she watched them all celebrate their triumph. Her hands had been interlocked with Anri’s own as they cutely jumped with each other. Both were so excited as Ego stood not too far next to them looking as pleased as he possibly could look for him, his hands had been placed in his pockets with an odd posture. It’s not long before he’s exiting himself amongst all the chaos.

Amid the post-game frenzy, Isagi felt an overpowering surge of emotion. Ignoring the paparazzi cameras and the cheering crowd, he made his way to (Name) on the sidelines. He had no clue what he was doing, his feet seemingly moving on their own as he grew closer and closer to where she stood.

With the world as their witness, he gently took her by the hand and pulled her close, their hearts beating in sync but her reasoning with the excitement of the victory and Isagi’s because he was about to put everything on the line.

“Isa..?” (Name)’s voice has always been sweet but he thought it sounded more sugary when she said his name.

With the stadium lights casting a halo around them, Isagi looked deeply into (Name)’s eyes and was swept away by the heat of the moment: he kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as they locked lips.

As Isagi closed the gap between them, his breath hitched, and he could feel the warmth of (Name)’s breath on his lips. Their faces drew nearer, eyes closing in unison, anticipation hanging heavy in the air. His hand, trembling ever so slightly, cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing her skin as he tilted her head gently.

(Name)’s lips were soft and inviting, meeting his with a tender, tentative touch. It was a gentle exploration, like two puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit. Isagi’s heart raced as he felt the electric spark of their connection. He could taste the sweet excitement of the victory on her lips, mixed with the saltiness of the sweat on his lips from the intense game.

Their mouths moved in perfect harmony, a dance of love and longing. Isagi’s other hand found its place on the small of (Name)’s back, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed together, fitting like two halves of a whole.

The kiss deepened, and their tongues met— a gentle and passionate duel as if they were pouring every ounce of their emotions into this single, stolen moment.

As their lips moved in sync with one another, a hush seemed to fall over the stadium, even amidst the continued celebrations. The two were lost in the intensity of their kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, wrapped up in the heat of the moment.

The paparazzi were momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection but they quickly recovered, cameras capturing the raw, unfiltered emotion that flowed between one of the star players and the sweet little water girl. The team began to realize what was happening soon after, confused looks on some, angry expressions on others, and a few who just seemed to be happy for Isagi. The stadium had long since erupted in a new wave of cheers and applause.

Isagi eventually pulled away from her lips, breathless and flushed but wearing a smile that spoke volumes.

“Yoichi..?” She blinks up at him, finding it hard to process what had just happened and more importantly, what it all means. “What was that?”

“I want everyone to know that I want you.” He confessed.

The aftermath of Isagi and (Name)’s intimate moment hung in the air, a delicate whisper during the fading cheers in the stadium. However, the serene atmosphere shattered abruptly as (Name)’s desperate cries pierced through the celebratory echoes. The transition from the warmth of the kiss to the chilling urgency in (Name)’s voice unfolded like a sudden storm.

“Rin—! Rin you’re hurting me! Rin Itoshi! Let me go!” The harsh urgency in (Name)'s voice resonated through the narrow hallway, her plea filled with both physical pain and emotional distress. She struggled to keep her footing, her feet almost stumbling as she tried to keep up with Rin's determined strides. The locker room loomed ahead, its cold, metallic door reflecting the dim light from a flickering overhead bulb.

Rin’s face was a tumultuous sea of emotions. Anger and frustration bubbling at the surface that almost always remained cool and collected, made him deaf to the celebration’s distant echoes. His fingers clamped around (Name)’s upper arm like an unyielding vice, pulling her along a path she desperately wished to escape from. The last thing she wanted was to fight but it was clear that not only had the festivities been forgotten in Rin's mind, but any chance of him enjoying them had been cruelly dashed. Not like he was the celebration type anyway.

The tension crackled like static electricity in the space between them. Despite the lingering thrill of the victory, the atmosphere inside the locker room weighed heavily upon them, contrasting sharply with the post-game excitement. Amidst the disarray of his teammates’ gear, Rin’s voice dripped with frustration as he confronted (Name).

“You, should really fucking know better, (Name).” Rin’s penetrating gaze remained fixed upon her, the tension palpable between them. (Name) looked upset and disheveled as looked up at him, never once backing away from his gaze. She shot back with a voice trembling with exasperation and frustration, “What do you want me to do, Rin? You don't want to be my boyfriend, but you get angry with me when I get attention from someone who actually wants to be with me! In public!”

Rin's jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in response to her words— clearly, she’s been talking about Isagi. Rin wasn’t stupid, not that they had been trying to hide it well to begin with. “Isagi of all people.”

(Name) couldn't contain her anger any longer, her voice raising as she spoke. She made sure to point a mean finger at him, poking his chest as she did so. “Don't talk about him like that. As if you treat me better than him. You’re crazy!”

Just as the tension reached its height, the locker room door swung open, revealing bewildered-looking teammates as they all trickled into the room. They heard a commotion coming from inside and decided to investigate. Although they had all been listening piled on top of each other seconds before Isagi finally pushed through.

“Did we walk in on somethin'?” Raichi asked. (Name) and Rin exchanged conflicted glances, gazes torn between the intensity of the game and the unresolved issues in their relationship. Rin looked particularly unbothered by the exchange though, it should be a talent with how he can keep his demeanor a thorough constant even in the most stressful situations. Most of the time.

“Yes!” (Name) exclaimed, but Rin quickly retorted. “No,”

“What’s going on?” Isagi asked, closing the gap between him and her. He had a worried look on his face as he looked down at her.

“Nothing, we just had a discussion is all.” She answered.

“No. Let them know what’s mine is mine.” Rin stated, causing her heart to skip a beat. She hated that— her heart often betrayed her brain so often, especially when it came to Rin. She was mad at him!

“Excuse me?” Isagi tilted his head, brows furrowed as he took a step closer in Rin’s direction.

“Please, not right now. We just won a big game..” (Name) said, her voice carrying a heavy solemnity as though she were deeply concerned. She absolutely couldn’t stand when they fought. When any of them fought, really. Rin’s jaw clenched again, but he refrained from saying more for the moment, his gaze locked onto Isagi. It’s at that moment when Rin takes his hand and grabs a hold of her face, turning her head towards him and planting a sloppy kiss right on her mouth— an act that shows his possession of her.

The locker room fell silent as they watched this display of affection, leaving everyone, including Isagi, momentarily stunned.

(Name) blinked in astonishment, her cheeks hot, and her heart raced. She didn’t expect such a public display of affection from Rin, especially during their argument. His actions spoke volumes, and despite the tension that had filled the room, there was a sense of raw passion in that kiss.

Rin finally pulled away from the kiss, his intense gaze still locked onto (Name), as if daring anyone to challenge his claim. It was a bold move, one that left no doubt about his feelings, even if it had created an even more complicated situation.

(Name), her voice shaky but filled with a mix of emotions, whispered to Rin, “You didn’t have to do that..”

In a bold move of Isagi’s own, he closed the distance between himself and (Name), taking her face gently in his hands, and he leaned in to kiss her. The locker room seemed to hold its breath as Isagi’s lips met (Name)’s in a tender kiss.

Isagi felt his body respond immediately to her kiss, his cock hardening against his leg. He could feel her soft lips pressing against him, and he could hear her whine softly into the kiss. Maybe it’d been the heat of the moment, but being watched— having all eyes on him as he essentially marked his territory had him reeling. It felt similar to being on the field.. having someone feel threatened by his very sense of self only for him to claim the goal as his. This felt no different.

“I—” (Name) stood in the center of the room at a loss for words, her heart torn between the two men who both held a special place in her life. She could feel the intensity of the emotions radiating from Rin and Isagi, their heated argument having morphed into something far more complex. The situation had already taken an unexpected turn, and the tensions between Rin and Isagi were undeniable. Rin reached out for (Name) but Isagi acted on the same instinct— both of the men simultaneously closed the distance between themselves and (Name), their lips meeting hers in a kiss that’d been rather rough and unpoetic.

The room descended into a breathless hush as the trio partook in an impassioned, electrifying kiss. It was a tempest of emotions and longings, where Rin and Isagi’s competitive spirits transcended the realm of sport, now manifested in the fervor of their lips upon (Name)’s. Each kiss was an assertion of ownership, a silent declaration of their claim on her heart.

Unspoken desires smoldered beneath the surface, like coiled embers ready to ignite. Both Isagi and Rin may have carried a secret yearning for one another, one that was concealed beneath the shadow of their shared affection and feelings for (Name) and their ongoing rivalry. Perhaps it was a whirlwind of emotions, a silent tug-of-war between jealousy and attraction. Neither dared utter the truth if there were any, and yet deep down there existed an unspoken curiosity about what it would be like to bridge the divide that separated them.

Past the competition, their emotions churned frequently with high ups and low lows. With frustration intertwined, it blurred the fine lines that separated friendship and rivalry. Hours spent together on and off the soccer field had woven a tapestry of connection, a bond that transcended the boundaries of just being teammates but friends. The bond, though sometimes frayed by the throes of their shared affection for (Name), added another intricate layer of complexity to their relationship. It was as if they constantly teetered on the precipice of something more. But truthfully? Neither of them wanted to even entertain the thought. Or so they tell themselves.

The remaining teammates were initially taken aback, exchanging enigmatic glances among themselves. Some wore the cloak of astonishment, while others concealed their intrigue behind veils of confusion. A few remained adrift in the sea of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tempestuous waters of this unexpected turn.

The locker room that was once heavy with tension and discord, had metamorphosed into a simmering crucible of passion and desire. The air itself seemed to shimmer with the intensity of their emotions, like molten steel in a crucible, forging something new from the raw elements of longing and affection.

The taste of desire and longing hung heavy in the air, and what had begun as a spontaneous act was now evolving into something far more passionate and consuming. As the trio’s kiss deepened, the locker room seemed to pulse with an almost palpable energy. The boundaries between all of them blurred, and for that suspended moment in time, it seemed as though everyone knew where this was heading.

Rin’s hands moved to cup her breasts upward, pushing them together before harshly pulling down the babydoll pink top to expose her bra.

“R—! Rin!” It was similar to a chirp, the way (Name) said his name. She looked breathless with her lips glossy with a mix of both Rin and Isagi’s DNA— oh, shedding flustered. Like a sweet little rabbit who got her cottontail pulled by a big bad wolf.

“Shut up.” Is the only thing he muttered into her neck as his large hands continued to grope her.

“Is this really okay, Captain?” Isagi asked, blue irises narrowed deliberately trying to evoke an emotion out of Rin by using his title.

Rin pulled away from her, his chest heaving as he met Isagi’s intense gaze. “It’s not like they haven’t been thirsting after her like mutts.” Rin retorted his voice low and possessive, a defiant challenge in his words.

Rin’s next response was a sly, almost wicked statement. “Give them a show,” he whispered, his words laced with provocation as he locked onto Isagi's gaze, fully aware of the effect his words would have on their audience.

The next moments for (Name) seemed to blur into a haze. Time lost its meaning as she found herself caught between Rin and Isagi— Isagi’s hand found its way to her throat from where he stood behind her. Slender fingers wrapped around her delicate and sensitive neck while Rin’s hands roamed.

“Look at what you did..” Isagi presses his erection into her, his thick shaft snug against the pillowy softness of her ass.

“Yoichi..” She gasped softly, brows furrowed as she was directed to look upward.

“Yoichi..” Isagi mocks her softly, his own voice going up an octave. “Shh. You’re real quiet..” Isagi whispers directly into her ear, his breath hot and shaky as he speaks to her in a lower tone— his words sending a shiver down her spine. His tone, honeyed in arousal and heat, carried a note of urgency that left her heart pounding. “This is how you act with him?” His question held a weight of not only a weight desire but possessiveness; and jealousy.

“She knows her place and her limits,” Rin answered for her as his fingertips skillfully unclasped the heart clip that held her bra together. (Name)’s tits had a delicious drop under their weight, her buds hardened rather quickly not only because of Rin’s stimulation but the temperature in the locker room had been chilly.

Bachira virtually had no qualms about palming himself through his shorts, his cock stiff with a perverted little expression on his face as he watched the scene unfold. Truth be told, this isn’t the first time he’s done something depraved like this. See, Bachira had a bit of a fixation on voyeurism and exhibitionism. It was almost as if he was in the room by himself, enjoying his sight before of him like he were at home watching the perverse bookmarks on his burner account on Twitter. This to him was even more of a treat— not only does he get to watch but he gets the luxury of having others watch him.

“See what your effect is on all of these perverts?” Rin asks, his voice low against her ear. “And yet you still walk around clueless, these little skirts and small tops.”

Isagi makes the next move with hands sliding down behind her waist where fingertips unzip the back of her skirt. His thumbs hook into the material of both her mini and the panties she wore, pulling both garments down in haste.

“Fuck me.” Raichi groaned, he put up a desperate attempt to hold onto whatever sanity he did have but he hasn’t gotten laid in weeks and this is probably as close to (Name)’s pussy as he was going to get. So help him god if any of this gets out to the press he’s going to fucking lose it. He starts palming himself through his shorts too, only gaining the courage to actually pull himself out when he catches a glimpse of Bachira who had been holding his cock at its base, rubbing his frenulum with the pad of his fingertip. Its head was leaky— comically so as it dripped slowly onto the floor below him where he stood. Raichi spits into his hand before he wraps it around him, giving it a firm squeeze before stroking himself slowly. His balls are heavy, it's embarrassing to say that he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to be the first guy to cum, especially in this kind of situation.

The room had been filled with breathy moans and explicit sounds and statements as they all became meshed together in, let’s not mince words: an orgy.

Reo and Nagi seemed to have fallen into their solace between each other, lips locked in a fervent kiss as their clothed clothes rubbed against each other, it wasn’t very long before they’d been frotting bare against each other. Yukimiya follows in both Raichi and Bachira’s footsteps by pulling out his cock and jerking himself off, imagining that (Name) was the one who was touching him, kissing him, making him cum anywhere he wanted to.

Isagi’s mouth is hot on (Name)’s cunt as she sits on the bench, her legs propped up on either side of her to keep her legs open and spread. His pointer finger and middle spread her lips apart as his tongue delves into the heart of her sweet pussy, causing rivulets of her sticky essence to drip down his chin. Isagi was always a messy eater— he was one of those types who liked to eat pussy for his pleasure. He could be between her legs for hours if she let him but she gets a little restless because she ends up wanting to get fucked after her second orgasm on his tongue. Isagi and Rin were different in that regard. It’s not because Rin didn’t want to or like foreplay: he just preferred to fuck because he could do it for hours when time permits.

Rin looks down at her while she holds his hard cock in her hand. Her tongue feels warm, slippery, and wet as she circles it around his cockhead. He watches her build up her momentum as she starts to suck on it instead— she always did this and that alone would make him cum if she tried but she makes it a point to prove she can swallow him whole without gagging. (Name) says it feels more rewarding when he can cum down her throat too— it’s probably what she was working towards right now, slowly taking him inch by inch. She knows her limits though it seems because she’s using her hands with what she can’t get down to.

Rin thinks he likes this position: he’s standing over Isagi in both a literary and metaphorical sense. He’s on his knees serving his girlfriend while she focuses all her attention on him— doing her best to make him feel good. Rin’s compliance to all of this carries a certain weight of unresolved tensions, it feels more like a means of control than the genuine connection between Isagi or any other teammate in this locker room. In Rin’s head, he’s doing them a favor. He tosses a mere glance at the rest, eyes focused on the depraved displays of lust in front of him.

“..Shit. That feels good.” Tabito’s eyes are closed shut as Chigiri’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock and Hiori licks up and down his shaft. The redhead’s looking up at Tabito through lash lines that seem a little too feminine— he’s holding a piece of his hair tucked behind his ear as he slowly envelops Tabito’s growing cock. Hiori’s hands are both wrapped around his shaft and Chigiri’s as they work along Tabito’s cock, often meeting at the top of his cock to share a wet tongue kiss.

Tabito didn’t think he could get any harder but here he is now, trying not to blow his load prematurely all in their pretty mouths. There’s a part of Tabito that feels a small amount of shame— or perhaps something akin to embarrassment as he gets his cock sucked. Maybe it’s the overall absurdity of the situation: the entire team getting essentially cucked by the water girl everyone wants to be balls deep in and the two dickheads who have had a one-up on them all the entire time. Another reason is probably because he’s one of those men who prides himself in being an Alpha male of sorts— bragging about how many women he can pull but once again, here he is getting his cock sucked on by two pretty boys.

Isagi’s lips encircle her clit, applying gentle suction as he slips his pointer and middle into her slit. Warm walls encompass his digits as he rocks them a certain way he knows she likes. (Name) is already finding it difficult to focus on sucking Rin off with Isagi between her legs like this. Her free hand finds its way into Isagi’s hair, giving him a gentle grip as she tries to ground herself. As he continues to suck on her sensitive bud, his actions become more fervent— sloppier and more urgent. Isagi could feel her insides twitching along his fingers, that’s why. She’s close and he wants to be the first one to make her cum in front of everyone. (Name) can’t help but tear her lips away from Rin’s cock, her hand continuing to jerk him off as she looks down at Isagi.

“I’m—!” She nearly chokes on her cry as she feels the initial push over the edge— then the dips come and she’s shaking. “—cumming, I’m cumming..!” (Name) repeats over and over again as she basks in the complete and total absence of control she has over her body in that very moment. It’s pretty— it's so pretty. She almost looks helpless but the sounds she’s making are making them spin. Isagi’s mouth is still attached to her core, following her body as she moves around. She rides out her high like this and Isagi only pulls away when he’s satisfied.

“Hah.. dammit..” Baro has been keeping to himself this whole time. The interesting thing about him is that he’s really a gentleman. He’s never been in a situation like this before but he’s also never been this turned on in his life. Baro also just learned that he likes to watch, his cock has been twitching in his thigh for almost thirty minutes. He’s making a mess in his boxer briefs because he can feel himself getting wet. The way his cock is jumping is enough friction to cause stimulation, when (Name) cums, he has to grab himself at his base to keep him from cumming. Baro looks down at himself, pulling up the inseam of his shorts and underwear to let the tip of his cock peek out. It jumps again, the cool air hitting its shiny and glistening tip as it drools. Precum leaking onto the floor.

The trio shifts their positions so that Rin is lying on the bench while (Name) straddles him, sheathing his cock at its hilt— Rin’s hands on her ass as she adjusts to him. It’s been a while since she’s had him because of a little disagreement they had. Well, in actuality it was everything but little. They hadn’t been “seeing” each other for the past couple of weeks as they usually do because of Rin’s.. approach to how he handles certain things. Specifically when it comes down to having conversations involving emotions and how to deal with them in healthy and effective ways. The “what are we” conversation didn’t go as she’d planned for it to be. He gave her a vague response that resolved nothing which in turn made her spiral, but it’s not like she‘s some sort of loose canon. She had her moments, yes.. but when it came to Rin he brought something nasty out in her that only he could.

“Don’t look at me,” (Name) says softly, her voice carrying a tone of resentment that holds no real weight as she grabs his face to make him look in another direction. Isagi is behind her as he prods his cock between her supple ass cheeks, ever so gently pressing the tip onto her puckered hole. A breathy chuckle escaped his lips when he saw how she jolted upwards, reaching behind her to shoo him away from that part of her.

“Hng— Isagi, not there. It’s been too long..” (Name) looks at him from over her shoulder. Isagi thinks she looks cute like that: brows pinched in a furrow with a pout on her lips she doesn’t even know she’s sporting. That’s alright. Her pussy seemed more appealing anyway, even if Rin’s cock had already been working its way into her. It was going to be nearly impossible to try to squeeze himself into her, Rin was already big admittedly— the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. But Isagi the issue here was that he didn’t like sharing. He leans over, lips connecting to her neck in a sweet kiss.

“Then can you take both in here..?” Isagi’s fingers gently brush against the same pussy that was currently stuffed with Rin’s cock. Isagi almost wanted to scoff— it was big and she was tight enough to make her grip around his shaft. He hated how much his cock was drooling, it was almost a little embarrassing.

“No, Yoichi.. I don’t think I can fit both.” She says. “I’m not prepped at all, pervert..” Her eyes are closed in a hum, as she reaches to hold the back of his neck into place while Rin plays with her clit. His eyes are low and lidded as they hone in on the precious little flower between her legs. He’s starting to move now, slowly, but he’s gotten a bit impatient. The fluttering around his dick isn’t helping either— he’s almost entirely tuned out everyone else.

“Then you’re going to try, right? For me?” Isagi pressed another kiss into her skin and his eyes flickered upward and over to Bachira who had seemingly inched his way over to the three, a bright-eyed look in his eye as he looked at (Name) like she was a pretty prize, adorned with the wrapping paper and bow. Rin gives him a skeptical look from the corner of his eye but doesn’t say anything. Rin tolerated Bachira more than other players for whatever reason. Unfortunately, he thinks that Bachira may have grown on him over time. Rin would never admit that but he’s sure if it had been anyone else, he’d be beside himself but Bachira isn’t touching her so it’s acceptable.

“Meguru,” Isagi hums. He reaches around to grab a hold of her face to make her look at Bachira, placing another kiss on her cheek. “She’s so pretty, right? Prettier than the last time, you think?” Isagi looks over at him again with a knowing grin.

Last time.. that was supposed to be a secret between the three of them. Now she’s feeling embarrassed and a little bit like a slut. But it was a one-time thing! That night they were supposed to be toning Bachi’s hair, they had a little bit of wine— too much wine. One thing led to another and she ended up getting spit roasted with Isagi in her pussy and Bachira taking her mouth. If she wasn’t so out of her mind she’d say something— or maybe she wouldn’t, it was the truth after all. But they are going to get in trouble afterward, they made a promise and totally broke it.

“Mhm~! ♡” Bachira nods. “She’s a tough girl, she can take it.”

“We didn’t get to try last time but you think (Name) can fit two inside, right? She's doubting herself like a ..silly girl? Is that what you call her when she’s being clumsy?” Isagi flashes another smile, yet Bachira succumbs to his impulses, bridging the distance to share a kiss with (Name) before tenderly transitioning to Isagi, his lips moving in a gentle but firm kiss.

Rin doesn’t say much. It's odd but he’s soon pulling himself out of her so that they could shift into another position— one that could accommodate her more comfortably than the one she was in currently. (Name) assumes a reverse cowgirl position, while Rin supports one of her legs from behind the knee to establish a stable anchor. Isagi mirrors the action, both positioning their cocks at her pussy— one that seems too tight to fit both. Bachira’s been hovering, leaning over to spit right onto her pussy.

“You can do it! ♡” Bachira chirps, a chuckle adjacent to a giggle leaves his lips when she reaches out for him— he lets her with no question. She held onto the nape of his neck, fingers intertwined in the soft brassy hairs. The shuffle of footsteps echoed as the onlookers encircled the four, creating an impromptu audience. It’s almost like a.. circle jerk but with a view. All of their dicks are in hand, stroking themselves to the sight. The attention is getting (Name) off, she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t. Her cunt was visibly pulsating around nothing, her need to be absolutely filled to the brim was growing and the task of taking two cocks into the same hole seemed less daunting and more like a necessity.

“Holy shit..” An involuntary hiccup escapes her, accompanied by a restrained moan. It's the sensation of something notably large making its initial attempt to enter. They both push into her inch by inch and the grasp on Bachira’s hair is far less friendly. He doesn’t mind though, it feels good for him. “Oh my god—!”

It's a stretch that initiates with a subtle and controlled tension.. gradually intensifying until it teeters on the edge of discomfort. As she reaches the peak— both of their lengths halfway, a satisfying ache ensues, accompanied by a paradoxical sensation of relief as the apex passes. It’s a blend of pain and pleasure, as the muscles protest against the stretch while simultaneously yielding to the therapeutic pull of her walls, leaving her with a lingering sense of being full beyond imagination and gratification.

“Christ..” Rin says under his breath, letting out an almost shaky breath. It’s tight— it’s probably the tightest thing he’s had since he fucked her ass the first time. It’s an enveloping pressure that molds around him, both hard and soft. It seems as though his cock and Isagi’s are battling for room within her but there just simply wasn’t any.

“Look at you..” Isagi on the other hand can’t get over the view— none of them can. He’s only ever seen things like this in hardcore porn, never in real life. She’d stretched beyond belief, both cocks inside of her completely to the hilt. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than stare and wait for her to permit them to move. Bachira’s making good use of himself by playing with her clit, lips locked onto her own as she reached to play with his cock.

She breaks away from his lips momentarily to look at Isagi with a darkened gaze before uttering the words, “Fuck me.” Rin misses not a single beat as he reaches upward, grabbing a handful of her hair at the base to yank her head back. Both men start fucking into her at a worrisome pace, one would think they’d be a tad more generous but it was clear there had been no more patience left. They wanted to cum in a hot and willing cunt. Their cocks both push and pull at alternating times, hitting different targets deep inside of her. She’s not catching a break between the two of them and it’s making her vision hazy.

Chasing after a high becomes the focal point of everyone’s agenda. Every touch seemed to be heightened amongst everyone, sending waves of euphoria through each of their bodies— there a sense of urgency surged through the air as something inched closer and closer. Her vision had been completely obscured by the overwhelming euphoria building in her core, the harsh lighting of the locker room becoming almost soft and blurred. Her tits jump at every impact of a pump, hardened buds getting licked and sucked on by Bachira. Some images she can make out when she comes to like: Baro, Yukimiya, and Raichi stroking themselves, Reo bent over on all fours while Nagi fucks him from behind, Chigiri and Hiori in a 69 position while Tabito alternates between Hiori’s ass and Chigiri’s mouth.

Unfortunately, she can’t hold it together anymore. It's the peak of pleasure, sensations converging into an intense climax—a symphony of ecstasy where every touch, breath, and heartbeat harmonize in sublime rhythm. Her mouth hangs open into a sweet little ‘O’ and she starts to shake uncontrollably, her cunt becomes a geyser as she squirts on Isagi’s lower half in short bursts. It’s a chain reaction: guttural moans breaking out as the onlookers begin to cum, multiple cumshots had and soiling the floor where they stood.

“Ah— fuck.. fuck.. fuckfuck—” Isagi’s hips start to falter terribly as he sputters out curses. Both he and Rin cum at the same time, filling her abused and beaten hole with their seed. Isagi doesn’t know it, but he’s overstimulating both (Name) and Rin because he’s the type to fuck through his orgasms until he absolutely can’t move anymore. Their cum sloshes inside of her and it’s enough to start oozing out of her, down her ass, and dripping onto Rin’s balls.

“Stop fucking moving.” Rin barks at Isagi before he eventually tires himself out, he slips out of her first then Rin carefully follows suit. The rest oozes out of her slowly and onto the bench, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall.

As the echoes of pleasure subside, a serene aftermath settles in, wrapping the room in a cocoon of shared intimacy. In the dim glow of the aftermath, bodies rest, breaths sync, and the hazy ambiance settles.

She deserves a promotion.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader

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velvetchrry · 9 months ago

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hockey player!ghoap x smm!reader thoughts

just thinking about how you’re a social media manager for a new hockey expansion team. johnny and simon — who grew up playing hockey together — both got drafted to the pros but have never played on a team together before. they’re both selected for this new franchise — the first time they’ve played together since they were kids.

simon is a defenseman. big, hulking — he’s the guy that's going to initiate fights with the players that are picking on his teammates. you aren’t going to get away with a dirty hit when he's around — he will retaliate. he will dish out a big clean hit when they think they’re safe. especially if it’s johnny. he’s the team enforcer, but still a talented defenseman.

johnny is your center star. he’s wicked fast on the ice, and is always showing off with plays you think are near impossible. he’s surprisingly humble — giving credit where credits due, passing to his teammates when they’re open instead of taking a wild shot himself. he’s the chatty one, always talking up the press during intermission and after the games over.

(and ofc we have gaz as a winger and price as the old goaltender close to retirement, who just can’t give up the game yet)

you were hired with a batch of social media managers in order to promote this new team to the locals. you want to attract season ticket holders. you want people excited for the upcoming season. you want people to meet their players — even though most of them have a history on the ice.

you’re really good at your job. your main job is keeping up with the videos and pictures of the team and players — creating the content that gets posted. your coworkers laswell responds to the fan tweets and comments — she’s got more of a knack for that, where you have the creative eye.

part of your job is getting to know the players and getting them to open up to you on camera, especially when you’re recording. you have them follow along to the latest tiktok trends, record practice sessions and even what time everyone shows up to the arena (simon is early, price is right on time, gaz and johnny are running late). normally your job would be staying on home ice — not following the team when they’re away — but to keep up with content the owners request you specifically go along. it’s been a total hit online and tickets are selling like hotcakes.

you start to really get to know the team — you fly with them and stay in the same hotels. you’re with them at every practice. they start requesting you be the dj at practice even. it helps loosen them up. you get great content. you joke with them. you even stand at the bench during games. (content content content)

johnny of course chats you up first. he's easily to film and he’s your star. he’s the one generating the views and likes and hearts and comments. he’s the one everyone’s excited to see. he’s the first to jump on a new trend you want to film and he’ll encourage everyone to do the same. he’s the only reason that you get simon to be on camera. (and he still won’t go on camera much, rather you have to get shots of him on the ice)

they do their best to include you in everything, but especially when they’re at an away game. if the boys are going out for dinner, johnny will make simon knock on your hotel room door and convince you to join. (you don’t take a lot of convincing, however johnny has to pour simon a stiff bourbon to work up the courage to go ask you). you’re included in celebrations when the team wins. they drag you to one of the guy’s houses for a private dinner and drinks.

johnny and simon start to separately invite you to things — just the two of them. it’ll start off as johnny acting like he has a great new idea for content. he and simon did grow up together, they are best friends. they could have a great little segment together.

but it turns into more. they sit on either side of you. johnny brushes a hand against your thigh and rests it there. simon has an arm on the back of your chair, always keeping his body in the way of any potential threats. always keeping you safe. their sweet little puck slut princess. their hands are all over you by the end of the night.

they take you to a shared hotel room — after all it would be irresponsible for any of your to drive home. and johnny and simon share everything. they’re happy to share a room.

they’re happy to share you.

#cherry’s hockey playoff thots™️#call of duty #cod x reader #ghoap #ghoap x reader #ghoap au #ghoap fic #ghoap x you #ghoap fluff #ghoap smut #simon ghost x you #johnny mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x you #ghost x soap x reader #my work

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tj-dragonblade · 2 months ago

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[Connect 4 FIC] Mementos

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1243 Tags: fluff, pre-relationship, future fic, photography

Notes: For the @sandman-connect4 prompts Goldfish and Photography

Summary: Hob waxes nostalgic about an old hobby that's also his newest career.

On AO3

"Photography is such an amazing innovation, yeah?" Hob snaps another photo as he speaks, capturing the elegant swish of orange and white fins just breaking the pond's surface. "Still marvel over it, sometimes, used to it as I am."

"Indeed." Dream is drifting along at Hob's side, interested and attentive, and Hob knows by now that no one nearby will pay any attention to his ramblings so long as Dream is here with his notice-me-not aura. He's free to speak of whatever he likes without fear of being overheard.

"Couldn't imagine, first I heard of it—a device to take your portrait, without having to sit for a painter? Unthinkable! But it was true!" He snaps another pic as a particularly elegant fantail wriggles past a lily pad. "Couldn't wait to get a daguerreotype taken; I still have it, stored away for safekeeping, along with every other portrait I had done in the nineteenth century. They just kept refining and improving on the process—it was amazing, y'know? How marvelous, this ability to capture an image exactly as seen, and it just kept getting better. Had plans to show you the latest I'd had done at our meeting in 1889, if I hadn't put my foot in it first." He snaps another photo, two fish swimming past one another in a graceful floating of fins, and keeps right on talking before Dream can offer any commentary on that particular phase of their friendship. It's water under the bridge, done and gone and forgiven and he doesn't need an apology every time it comes up.

"And then personal-use cameras became a thing, and the tech just kept improving. It was so exciting to have the ability—I could just, y'know, pick up a camera and take pictures of whatever I liked! Any time! People I'd eventually have to leave behind, I could keep pictures now, if I wanted. Don't always, y'know, I've gotten very good at picking up and moving on when needed and not pulling a bunch of baggage after me, but it's nice sometimes to have those photos there to look back on when the memory starts to fade."

Dream makes a soft sound of agreement as Hob crouches by the edge of the pond, snapping a few rapid-fire shots from the new lower angle.

"And then Polaroids! Didn't even have to send those out, just wait a few minutes and wave it about a bit. Instant pictures. Fantastic. And then digital cameras? Phone cameras? Video, of course? Nowadays everybody's got hundreds of photos in their pocket at any given second, everyone can record or commemorate anything in their life that they want at a moment's notice, and I think that's just brilliant." He grunts as he rises back to his feet, steps away from the perimeter of the pond to capture a wider shot.

"Spent a lot of time on photography as a hobby, middle of last century," he continues as he works. "Amazing how accessible it was. Learned how to develop my own film, which lenses could do what, played with anything I could get my hands on. It was just so cool."

"It was this time as a hobbyist that led you to your current career choice, then," Dream says, in a tone of dawning understanding.

"Yeah, more or less." Teaching had lasted him another decade and a half after Dream's return before he'd needed to pull up roots and reinvent himself, and his old hobby had called to him. "With the trending interest in reviving analog photography it seemed a decent choice after retiring 'Professor Gadling'. Wasn't hard to get hired; most of what I shoot for the magazine's still digital—most of their subscription distribution is digital—but they've got an analog branch catering to collectors and enthusiasts and lucky for me I'm proficient in all of it."

"The luck perhaps belongs to your employer, in securing your skills," Dream offers, with one of those little smiles that Hob so loves to collect. He offers a grin of his own.

"I'll be sure to tell them you said so in my next appraisal."

"And do all of your assignments involve photographing fish?"

Hob laughs. "Nah, course not—it's a lifestyle-and-interest publication; I wind up shooting all sorts of things. This guy's been maintaining his ponds here for decades—probably knew that already, didn't you��and they wanted to do a feature on it. I was chuffed to get the assignment; I've been fascinated by pond building and maintenance for a few years now and I'm pleased to see this fabulous setup in person."

Dream says nothing, studying the pond in uncanny stillness as Hob takes a few more photos.

"Lovely creatures," he says at last.

"Aren't they?"

"They remind me of my sister."

"The one who—?" Hob makes a sweeping gesture with one hand meant to indicate himself and his whole still-alive thing.

"No; the youngest." Dream crouches, dangles fingertips in the water. "They often feature in the way that perception alters around her."

Hob waits to see if anything further is forthcoming, then tucks that small piece of information away to hopefully be expanded upon at a later date. He's learned much about Dream in the last couple decades by paying attention when these little dribs and drabs of personal information are offered and waiting patiently for the next.

He pauses in his photographing, glances sideways down at his friend. "What do their dreams look like, then? Do fish even sleep?"

"Not as such. Not as humans do." Dream wriggles his fingers, once, the surface rippling gently in their wake. "Their dreams are fleeting, gossamer; ephemeral wisps of comfortable waters, of safety, of plenty." There are fish approaching to nibble at Dream's fingertips, orandas and comets and ryukins; Hob watches for a moment then pulls out his phone and snaps a picture, for himself.

Dream catches the change of equipment, glances up with another of those little smiles—indulgent. Hob snaps again, pleased to have proof of that smile, pleased that Dream is present enough in the Waking today to be captured by the camera.

"Oh, look at this fellow," he says, motioning to a large black moor that is swimming up to investigate Dream's fingertips, and slips his phone back into his pocket.

"A beautiful specimen," Dream allows, holding perfectly still while the fish mouths at one finger and then another. "His color is exquisite."

Hob grins. "Must sense a fellow goth in you." He lifts his work camera again, snaps a few of the lovely black fish after Dream has reclaimed his hand.

"Perhaps." Dream's still got that little smile, and Hob remains absolutely delighted to see it.

"C'mon. Let's go see what Mr. Goldfish-Enthusiast has got in his koi pond, over here."

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly, more fish photographed, more stories of Hob's past told. And in his pocket, safe in his phone, there are two new pictures of Dream to remind him of his friend when absences stretch long, as they sometimes must. It is comforting, after everything and all these centuries, to know that he's allowed these mementos. He's confident by now that Dream will always return; they have met more in the last twenty years than in the six hundred before and Hob is elated that the friendship he'd recklessly claimed in 1889 has blossomed so wonderfully in truth.

But it's nice he's got the pictures to prove it.

= Started: 11/21/24 Drafted: 11/29/24 Posted: 11/30/24

#TJs Fics #Sandman #Dreamling

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olailamajnoon · 1 month ago

Text

The idea that Bruce Wayne might be Batman persists, despite countless videos of them standing side by side. Ironically, the footage only fuels conspiracy nuts into greater nutness.

“Why would Bruce Wayne and Batman be seen together so often unless they’re the same person trying way too hard to convince us otherwise?” one blog theorized. Another chimed in, “The ‘Bruce Body Double’ theory is a classic misdirection tactic. Follow the money, people!”

In the Batcave, Bruce stared at the latest trending thread titled "BatWayneGate Uncovered". His head sank into his hands.

“I hired a body double. I paid him six figures.”

Alfred, pouring tea with impeccable grace: “Perhaps if you paid him seven, sir, he might look less like you and more like someone who eats carbs.”

Bruce glared at him. “There’s no pleasing these people.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “And yet you keep trying, sir. Truly, your optimism is your greatest curse.”

Bruce folded his sleeves, his tone shifting. “Time for Plan B.”

Alfred froze mid-pour. “Oh dear.”

Bruce cracked his knuckles and began typing furiously. “Conspiracy nut named Matches Malone just drifted into their forums. He has opinions.”

Alfred stared into the teapot, his expression a portrait of quiet despair. “Sometimes, sir, I swear you enjoy your bizarre existence.”

Bruce didn’t look up. “Don’t be ridiculous. I—wait, what’s the hot key for posting GIFs?”

“You’re incorrigible, sir,” Alfred muttered, walking away. “Next, you’ll be making TikToks.”

Bruce paused. “…That’s not a bad idea.”

Alfred groaned audibly, but Bruce was already muttering to himself, brainstorming.

“Your father has just had a minor mental snap,” Alfred informed Tim as the boy wandered into the cave. “Nothing too serious. He should recover. Eventually.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “What happened this time?”

A voice called out: “Tim! I need help with a TikTok username!”

Tim froze, then turned to Alfred with wide eyes. “You weren’t kidding.”

Alfred sighed. “I rarely do.”

Tim shrugged and smirked. “Oh well. It’s not like I can make things worse.” He strode forward and raised his voice. “Coming, B! I’ve got amazing ideas!”

“Traitor,” muttered Alfred under his breath, pouring himself a stronger cup of tea.

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jhdyuiee · 9 months ago

Text

A wish or two

☁︎ pairing: doyoung x fem!reader x jaehyun

☁︎ synopsis: finally! after going back and forth with Qulture Corps. you've finally landed a spot. everything seemed as though it'll be fine and dandy, however it seems like team managers, Kim Doyoung & Jeong Jaehyun, have other things in mind...

☁︎ tags/warnings: threesome!, smut!, everything is consensual!!, rough sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (males & female receiving), masturbation, spanking, fingering, hair pulling, dirty talk, name calling (whore, good girl, baby), throat fucking, dumbification, impact play (pussy slapping), spitting, multiple orgasms, squirting, kissing/making out, breast play, cursing, praise kink, multiple positions, drinking, office romance

☁︎ w.c: 6.7k

☁︎ a.n: hello! jiji here, this one came up as a request by one of you & thank you so much for that!! i really appreciate any request and will try my best to make them possible. i hope you all enjoy this one, it’s actually my first writing something like this so i am a bit nervous on how you all will enjoy it. anyways stay safe and i’ll hopefully be back soon…🤍

Prologue.

Everything sort of just happened.

There was no stopping either of us.

Our hunger, lust, and desire for one another was an addictive drug. One with no cure.

But I didn’t care… heck I wanted more, Doyoung wanted more, Jaehyun wanted more.

March 20.

Finally… Finally! I can’t believe I finally got accepted! After two months of going back and forth with the company, they’ve finally hired me. Oh thank goodness, I don’t know what I would’ve done if they hadn’t hired me.

Qulture Corps. A renowned company, mainly widely known for producing some of the latest fashion and make-up trends. Since I graduated I’ve been dying to get a spot on their team. Truly, this is a dream come true!

The call I received earlier from them was nerve-racking, I thought they’d call me to inform me I didn't make the team, but luckily I did and was set to start in 3 days.

3 days. Oh god, I’m so fucking excited. ‘What am I going to wear?’ A sheer sense of panic overcame me, first impressions are always a must, especially if I’m going to be working for a company where literally fashion is at the top of its game.

“I have no time to waste,” I muttered, as I got up from my living room couch and headed off to my bedroom. I picked up my purse, slipped on my shoes, and headed off to a mall not so far away from my apartment complex.

I stormed off to every store trying to find the perfect outfit, however I just ended up picking up whatever caught my eye at every store I went to. This is a disaster.

Sighing, I headed off to the next shop, a boutique called Soltre. The store has a beautiful yet elegant aesthetic to it, it was sort of my vibe. I made my way to where a particularly beautiful and gorgeous top was racked. I inspected it, so lost in my thoughts I was unable to hear the footsteps that approached me from behind.

“That’s a beautiful top,” said a voice, causing me to turn around, startled. I was faced with a tall man with dark brown hair and dark chocolate-colored eyes. I was awe-struck, such a beautiful man was standing in front of me. “You should definitely buy it,” he continued when I didn’t respond.

I looked away, my focus back on the shirt. “I guess I’ll take you up on that then,” I finally spoke, glancing up at him again. He gave me a smile, dimples appearing. Wow. “This shop is one of the best in the mall after all,” he said.

‘He seems to know a lot about fashion,” I thought. “You sure know a lot… about uhm, fashion I mean.”

“You can say it’s my line or work per say,” he answered.

“Ah, I see. Well then, I uhm have to get going,” I said, fumbling with the top. I walked past him, but soon turned around, “Thank you.” I offered him a smile as well. He returned a smile as well, “My pleasure,” his voice said smoothly.

Once I paid, I left the store and decided that I had enough shopping for today, plus my arms couldn’t bear to handle another bag so I went back home. My thoughts though kept wondering on the mystery man I met at the store today. I didn’t ask for his name, well not that it should matter since I’ll probably never meet him again.

The rest of the day continued as normal and so did the next 3 days. Until finally, the long awaited day. My first day at the job!

☁︎*^+**

I glanced at myself one last time before heading out. I decided on the top recommended by mr. stranger man, a nice gray pleated skirt, and some cute black mary janes. With everything looking fine in my eyes, I headed to my car. The drive was gonna be at least half an hour, but I’ll manage. The closer I found myself to the building the more my stomach twisted and turned. I was getting even more nervous by the second. I can’t blow this up, I kept repeating.

When I arrived, the building was huge, at most 15 floors. Once I parked, I took quick deep breaths, to calm the nerves. “Let’s do this,” I said, and headed off into whatever awaited me.

The check-in process went smoothly, I met up with my new boss, Lee Taeyong and luckily he seems like a genuinely kind and easy going boss. My nerves from earlier are now fleeting.

I rode in the elevator with Taeyong to the 7th floor, where he was to introduce me to my new team. Once we arrived, I took a look at my surroundings. There were rarely people there, this floor seemed rather peaceful. “Ah, I see you’ve noticed. This is the planning department, and where you’ll be from now on. The planning department is rather small than most companies, but that’s because we choose the best of the best. We want committed people here, creative people who aren’t afraid to voice their thoughts and feelings,” Taeyong explained.

‘Wow… I made it to such a prestigious department… I thought I was just going to spend my days typing away at a screen or answering calls. This is absolutely 10 times better.’

“Wow, I’m honored Mr. Lee,” I spoke, bowing at the man. “Oh, god no you don’t need to do all that, reading your resume I figured you’d be a perfect fit for the team. Plus the team managers thought so as well,” he said.

“Team managers?” I asked, confused. “Ah, yes in this department we have two team managers. Follow me this way and I'll introduce you all,” Taeyong responded, as he guided me to the far end of a hallway located on our left side. Taeyong briefly knocked on the door before proceeding to open it. He ushered me inside, closing the door behind me.

“Hey! You two come over here for a sec,” Taeyong said, capturing the attention of the two males sitting on their desks who then got up, walking towards us. I looked at both of them, ‘Wait a minute he looks-‘ my thought was interrupted by Taeyong.

“You two, this is Y/L/N our new worker. Y/N this is Kim Doyoung and Jeong Jaehyun,” Taeyong explained. One of the two males reached his hand out, “Doyoung,” he mentioned. I took his hand and turned to the man standing beside him.

“Nice seeing you again,” he said with a chuckle. It was Mr. Stranger man in the flesh. Who knew he’d be my new manager, well that explains a whole lot about our interaction…

“You two know each other?” Taeyong asked.

“Ah well-“ I was interrupted by Jaehyun, “We met at the mall a couple days ago when I set out to look for… inspiration.”

Taeyong looked at us, his expression unreadable. “Very well, I trust you two know what to do with her,” he said as the two males nodded.

“Let me know if you have any other questions or concerns Y/N. I look forward to seeing what you bring to the team,” Taeyong added, as he left us behind with one another.

“So, shall we show you to your office?” Doyoung spoke up. I nodded, as they led me to my desk. It was quite close to their office, ‘That’s a relief.’

“Let us know if you need anything… Doyoung and I gotta get back, we have a meeting soon,” Jaehyun explained as he leaned against the door frame.

“Thank you, you two I appreciate it,” I thanked them. They smiled, shutting my door and walking away.

I leaned against my chair, recapping my past hour. It’s only a relief that everything went smoothly, Doyoung seemed great, and Jaehyun did too. I shut my eyes, not believing this was my life now. Honestly, I could get used to this.

However… what I didn’t know was what would come of my life a month from now. The irreversible. The desire. The lust.

1 month later.

It’s been over a month now since I started working for Qulture Corps, and so far it’s been nothing but amazing. The work has gone smoothly, and today we just wrapped up the final meeting for our upcoming Fall Collection. Although, it’s still months aways, production of the products does take some time to produce.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” I answered.

Doyoung appeared before me, “Hey, Y/N I just came in to inform you we're having a team dinner tonight. Would you like to come?”

I pondered for a bit, making sure I had no plans afterwards. “Yeah! That sounds fun, I’ll go,” I said.

“Great, see you at 7 p.m then. I’ll send you the location too,” Doyoung explained before exiting shortly after.

My phone then buzzed with the restaurant's location. In the time that I’ve spent here I’ve been able to get closer to both Doyoung and Jaehyun… However, it feels like something else is there between us. Something unexplainable, indescribable.

I snapped out of my thoughts, continuing my remaining work and answering emails before I decided to head off to meet them at the restaurant.

Luckily the drive there wasn’t long so I found myself a bit early. I entered and gave the waiter Doyoung’s name as Doyung had instructed me to do so. Our table was located in the far back. Later, everyone started pouring in Eunsoo, Leah, Jaemin, Mark, Chenle, Haechan, Yena, and Isabel. Surprisingly, Doyoung, Jaehyun, and Taeyong were the last to arrive, you would think that host would be the one’s here first. Kinda funny isn’t it?

“Nice to see you all here,” Taeyong announced.

“Wouldn’t miss out on free drinks!” Haechan cheered.

I chuckled, Haechan was definitely the life of the party within our team. With drinks and food on the table now, everyone dug in. They truly weren’t lying when they said food tastes better when you eat with others.

“Hey~ Y/N~ you’re so beautiful, a-anyone ever told you that~” Leah slurred, she was a rather light drinker. I laughed in her embrace, luckily still a bit sober so as to not do anything stupid. I glanced up, catching Jaehyun as his eyes lingered on mine. My mouth slowly opened so to speak, utter a word, but swallowed the words back down.

I pulled away from Leah’s embrace. “I’m gonna go to the restroom,” I say, excusing myself. Although, I wasn’t going to the restroom… I headed outside, stopping by an alleyway. I wanted some fresh air, the short eye contact with Jaehyun earlier got me irritable hot.

As I took in a breath, a voice spoke up, “Restroom huh.” I whipped my head towards the direction of the voice, only for my eyes to meet with Jaehyun. ‘What was he doing here?’

I stumbled on my words, “I… I, uhm-” Jaehyun walked closer, I inhaled his sandalwood smell that radiated off him. I was losing my composure, ‘Was this the alcohol?’

“Just wanted some fresh air,” I stuttered. “Yeah?” he questioned. I nodded, silence befalling us. I just couldn’t speak. “Look at me,” he whispered. A beat, then two passed before I looked up. Jaehyun was so close, I could feel his breath, see the fire in his eyes. He brought his hand to caress my cheek, then ghosted a finger over my bottom lip.

“Jaehyun…” I whispered. “I’m sorry baby, but can I… Can I kiss you,” he whispered back. I nodded shyly, closing my eyes.

I felt as Jaehyun’s lips collided with mine, his soft lips molded so beautifully against mine. It was gentle, so beautiful that I wished time would stop, but then Jaehyun backed away. My lips feeling empty again.

“Don’t stop,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck. I put my lips back on his, only this time teeth clattering, tongues colliding with one another. It was rougher, that the first that I ended up pushed against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist.

We were so lost in each other we failed to notice the person standing on the front of the alleyway. Cough. I flinched, the cough caused us both pull away and direct our attention to the male standing on the other end.

Doyoung…

“Fuck,” I muttered. I got off Jaehyun, patting myself. We walked to Doyoung who has not said a word since catching both of us.

“I was getting worried when neither of you came back so I looked for you two,” Doyoung later explained.

“Sorry about that,” I apologized. “Oh! No, not at all there is nothing to apologize… In fact, I’m sorry to have walked in on that.”

Gosh thank god it was dark because I was probably burnt red. I was so goddamn embarrassed.

“I should get going now, it’s quite late…” I proceeded to say as a means to get out of this awkward situation.

“Oh, yes of course you’re right. You should get back safely Y/N,” Doyoung said.

“See you tomorrow… Y/N,” Jaehyun said, finally speaking up since Doyoung walked in on us.

After bidding them both farewell, I rushed to my car. I wanted nothing more but to lock myself up in my apartment. A quick drive later, I threw myself on my bed. I recounted my kiss–or rather heated make-out–with Jaehyun, but then the memory of Doyoung catching us haunting right after.

Buzz.

I turned my head to my phone which was lying beside me. Speak of the devil. It was from Doyoung…

I unlocked my phone, opening his message. However, I now wish I hadn’t.

Doyoung: you know Y/N seeing the way you two kissed earlier got me so fucking hard

Doyoung: [ 1 image attachment ]

Doyoung just… he just… Oh my fucking… Was he really sending me a picture of his cock!? “He’s big…” I mumbled as I took another look at the image he sent.

Shit. I felt as the wetness began pulling in between my legs. I rubbed my legs together, but then slipped a hand inside, and fingers inside as I imagined Doyoung roughly pounded in and out of me. The squelching sounds echoed in my room, along with my little whimpers and moans.

First the kiss with Jaehyun and now this, masturbating to Doyoung?!

Once I reached my high, I waited until I caught my breath so to continue the rest of my night time routine. With one last sigh, I laid myself on my bed again, trying to shoo away any indecent thoughts of Jaehyun or Doyoung.

However, that proved rather harder as I ended up dreaming about not one, but both of them!

☁︎*^+**

It’s been 4 days since the whole ordeal with Jaehyun and Doyoung, and everything surprisingly has been rather good. It’s like what happened between us never– happened! We were like regular co-workers again. Though, I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not…

“Y/N?” Eunsoo spoke. I flinched, regaining my focus. “Huh, oh yeah what’s up?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing I was just asking if you’re okay… you’ve been kind of out of it lately,” she said worriedly.

“Yeah, everything's peachy so to speak,” I replied. Nothing was in fact peachy though. Pretending like nothing happened 4 days ago has actually been haunting me. The kiss, picture, dreams have been driving me insane. ‘Was I always so horny?’

Buzz.

My phone vibrated, causing both of us to turn to it. I picked it up, ‘Jaehyun?’

Jaehyun: can you come to my office?

A second later he added,

Jaehyun: like right now

“Looks like I’m being summoned,” I said. Eunsoo bid me a “good luck,” and I scurried off to his office. A million questions pondered my head, but neither of them were about what was to come in the next few minutes.

I knocked, and the followed a “Come in.” As I entered there he was, but he wasn’t alone. Doyoung was here too. ‘Great just my luck.’

“Is something the matter?” I asked. Jaehyun glanced at Doyoung, he hesitated before he spoke. “We have something we want to say to you Y/N.” I gave them a nod as to signal them to continue whatever they wanted to tell me. They gave each other one more glance.

“We’re truly sorry for our behavior that night at the restaurant,” they both said, bowing at me. I can see their sincerity, but part of my heart ached. 'Did they truly think of that night as a mistake? The kiss? The picture?’

They got back up, but neither one of us spoke up. Silence befell us. ‘I didn’t like this. No, I don't want to pretend nothing happened. I-’ “No, god no please,” I spoke up. They looked at me with confused eyes. “D-Don’t pretend nothing happened. At least I can’t. I- I…” my words got caught in my throat. ‘What am I saying?’

Doyoung then spoke up, “You what Y/N… tell us. What do you want?” ‘He’s right, what do I want? Ah, wait a minute… what I want is…’

“I want you… I want you both.”

Silence.

Oh god what did I just say. “Oh wait uhm-” I couldn’t even speak as Doyoung's lips collided with mine. His kiss was different from the one I shared with Jaehyun, even more gentle and passionate. ‘Wait a minute Jaehyun!’ I broke our kiss, my eyes meeting Jaehyun’s. He just stood there like how Doyung did that day.

Jaehyun then smirked, coming closer. “Is that really true? You want us both,” he says.

I felt as my face heated up, I glanced from Jaehyun to Doyoung. “Yes,” I muttered. “Please, I want you both.”

No words fell from their mouths, but their movements continued. Jaehyun walked until he was behind me, and Doyoung raised his hand to my chin. “You sure you can handle both of us, right here right now?” Doyoung asked.

“Yes, please I couldn’t stop thinking about that night,” I admitted. I then felt Jaehyun's mouth ghosting near my ear. “Then make sure to not be too loud or else they’ll have to witness how much of a whore you are,” Jaehyun whispered, then kissing my ear down to my neck. Every kiss lit me up even more. I wanted more.

Doyoung then crashed his lips onto mine again with the same intensity, while Jaehyun’s arms wandered all over my body. His hands groped my breast, causing me to moan into the kiss I was sharing with Doyoung. They later wandered even further, until they cupped my cunt causing me to grind on his hand. “Impatient aren’t you?” he whispered into my ear.

Doyoung backed away, our saliva connecting. “We have time, don’t worry,” Doyoung said, as he teased the buttons of my shirt. He slowly unbuttoned each button, dropping the shirt on the floor. My bra later joined in as well, leaving my perky breasts for his eyes. I watched as Doyoung stuck out his tongue, licking on my bud. All the while, Jaehyun began working on my lower half. He successfully got rid of my pants, leaving me in only my panties.

I whipped my head towards him when I felt Jaehyun's fingers playing with my slit. “Oh god,” I whimpered when he prodded his finger in my hole. “So wet already,” he muttered against my neck. I could only let out a small whimper and he continued the movement. “S-Stop teasing me… Please,” I pleaded.

“You sure are an impatient one. Fine then take it,” Jaehyun said as he inserted two of his fingers inside my cunt. I practically sucked his fingers in, the wetness echoed around the room. “Fuck, so tight and wet,” he whispered in my ear. His pace was unbearable, he would slow down and then go fast. I was losing my mind, his fingers hit me so fucking well– it was like he studied my body beforehand to know what my likes and dislikes were. I felt my stomach clenched, my cunt tightening around his fingers.

It certaining helped too that all the while Doyoung was working his way with my tits. His mouth would lick one and then return the same affection to the other one. He sucked on them like a child, biting down on my bud a couple of times as well. His stimulation on my tits and Jaehyun’s on my cunt were enough to have me pushing me to the edge.

“Cum. I know you want to,” Doyoung said when he let go of my breast with a pop. With a final pinch to my clit by Jaehyun, I came. I came so hard, I would’ve fallen if not for Jaehyun catching me. I watched hazily as Jaehyun licked his fingers clean of my essence, and felt as Doyoung carried me. He then placed me on the couch they had in the middle of their office.

“On your hands and knees,” Doyoung commanded. My body acted on it’s on, getting into the position. I watched as Jaehyun came in front of me, and later whipped my head around to see Doyoung behind me. “Think you can suck me off while he eats you out?” Jaehyun asked. I nodded, so turned on by what he just said that I drooled from my mouth and in between my legs. He chuckled, unzipping his pants and freeing his cock from his underwear. His cock was big. It made me doubt if I would be able to take it all.

“Don’t worry, you can take it baby or else a whore like you wouldn’t have made such a request,” he said when he noticed a hint of doubt on my face. “Now open up.”

I did as Jaehyun said, opening my mouth up for him. I flickered my eyes up to watch him as he brought his cock closer to my mouth. Once it was close enough, I started by swirling my tongue around his tip, and then wrapping my lips around his tip. I watched as his brows furrowed, so I continued my movements. I then began gliding my tongue along his shaft, up and down, down and up. He seemed to be enjoying it judging by the way he’d started groaning.

As I began taking him even more, I felt Doyoung's tongue begin to kitten lick my cunt. Doyoung had begun with some slow licks, but would stay a bit longer on my clit which caused me to moan against Jaehyun’s cock. His cock was so big that I barely even made it halfway yet. I felt as the tears began pooling in my eyes and drool passed my lips. “That’s a good girl, take more I know you can,” Jaehyun said. And so I did until his cock reached the back of my throat. “Fuck,” Jaehyun groaned, grabbing a fistful of my hair. He started taking over, bobbing my head along his shaft.

Meanwhile, Doyoung had begun licking me even faster, occasionally sucking on my clit which just caused me to moan on Jaehyun’s cock even more. I can tell the sensation satisfied Jaehyun as he muttered incoherent words into the air.

I felt like another high was coming, so fast and quick it was almost embarrassing. As I was lost in the pleasure I suddenly felt a wet muscle poke my hole, oh god. Doyoung was fucking me with his tongue. It felt so good, enough to have my cumming for a second time while Jaehyun was stuffed in my throat. “Cumming before me? I think you deserve a punishment,” Jaehyun said.

‘Punishment? What is he-’ I couldn’t even finish my thoughts before Jaehyun started gripping my hair even tighter and increasing his speed. It was getting messy– drool and tears everywhere. As if matters couldn’t get any more worse, Doyoung landed a slap on my ass. It only caused my eyes to widen and moan on Jaehyun’s cock.

“Fuck, that feels good. Doyoung do that again since it seems like our little whore enjoys it.” I looked up at Jaehyun, with those tearful eyes of mine, in which he also looked down at me. A smirk plastered on his face. Obliging to Jaehyun’s words, Doyung began slapping my ass even more.

“Shit, I’m close,” Jaehyun moaned. A thrust or two down my throat, Jaehyun came into my mouth, my throat. I watched as his chest heaved, and he pushed his hair out of his forehead. “Swallow it all,” he commanded, which I instinctively ended up doing.

“Come here now,” Doyoung’s voice spoke up, as he sat on the couch, patting his lap. I saw as his cock stood proudly against his stomach. I crawled to him. “Put your back against me and put it in yourself,” he said. So then I turned around, grabbing his hard cock and began inserting it inside me. I felt as his cock stretched me out the deeper he went in. “Yes, just like that baby… It’s almost all in,” Doyoung groaned.

“She’s so tight Jaehyun, I guess all that stimulation did nothing to her,” Doyoung chuckled as he turned to the other male. I turned to look at Jaehyun who just kneeled on the couch, fisting his cock. Then suddenly, Doyoung plunged the rest of his cock into me. No warning, just the grip he had on hips. With him all inside me now, I felt as his cock hit my cervix. I whisper lowly, “S’ good.”

“What was that? You like that?” he said, as he began thrusting into me. Who was I to deny what he just said, I loved it. “Ye-Yes you feel so good!” The phrase that slipped past my lips only caused his thrust to become deeper and rougher. Doyoung was treating me like his personal toy. He kept ruthlessly pounded into me, until it came to a halt. “Making me do all the work?”

I turned around, nodding my head no. “Hmm, is that so? I’m tired, why don’t you do it now,” Doyoung says, a slight smirk appearing on his face. So I did, thrusting slowly at first. “Stop the teasing, go faster baby,” Doyoung whispers into my ear. And so I grip onto his thighs, bouncing myself on his cock.

In the midst of it all, Jaehyun continued watching us contently while fisting his cock, he enjoyed the sight in front of him. You, a whimpering mess who was so cock drunk already. He wanted to get a taste of that sweet, tight cunt of yours soon because if he wasn’t already, he’d go insane.

“God, Doyoung I’m cl-close.” My stomach was tightening up, so close to unleashing. “Ready to cum all over my cock,” he replied. I yelled out “yes” as I repeated his name over and over again. “Open your eyes,” another voice said. And so I fluttered them open, Jaehyun’s cock in front of me. I watched as he jerked himself in front of me. It only turned me on even more.

“Shit, you like that? Like watching Jaehyun jerk himself off to you fucking me?” Doyoung says. I tightened even more around his cock, causing Doyoung to groan. His hands roamed down to my clit. He rubbed and pinched the poor thing continuously.

Just a few more thrusts and I came for the third time this night. My back arched, eyes rolling back, and moan and after moan slipping out. However, it didn’t stop here. Doyoung brought his hands back to my hips and kept fucking me through my orgasm. It was all too overstimulating, I felt I could even cum again.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Don’t waste any drop,” Doyoung groans, finally cumming. His warm seeds painting my walls white. At the same time, Jaehyun also came, cumming all over my breasts. All three of us were heaving, trying to gather some oxygen back into our bodies.

“Don’t think we’re done here,” Jaehyun chuckles. He gently picks me up, bending me over the couch. My hands gripping it, while my ass stuck up. I felt his hand come in contact with my ass cheek in a harsh slap, causing me to yelp forward.

Jaehyun wasted no time, plunging himself deep and snug into my cunt. “Fuck, Doyoung wasn’t lying. How are you still so tight?” Jaehyun says, as he pounds in and out of me. I don’t even know who I am anymore, I could only think of how deep Jaehyun was reaching me. He hit my g-spot so well with every thrust I could barely contain myself. I ended up squirting all over for the first time tonight.

“Making a mess,” Doyoung’s voice spoke. I tried opening my eyes to locate him, only for him to be besides me. We locked eyes, and his lips later engulfed mine. It was a sloppy kiss, but I didn’t care. It felt good, everything felt good. Jaehyun’s thrust too became sloppy, it could only mean he was close too. And so with a thrust or two later, he came in me.

My stomach feels so full now. This is what I’ve wanted. This is what I-

Jaehyun’s POV.

“Shit, did you kill her with your dick?” Doyoung says, laughing as he puts his pants back on.

“So funny, she’s just fallen asleep,” I replied. “Think we went too far?” Doyoung continues.

“Probably, but hey she said she wanted it. Wanted both of us,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I took Y/N into my arms while Doyoung began cleaning the couch. Luckily, the couch was made of leather so it shouldn’t be too hard right?

I looked down at her. Y/L/N. From the moment I first met her at that store, I fell in love. I know as cliche as it sounds, it’s true. There was something so captivating about her, something that made me want her. All of her.

So when I saw her that day, her first day here I knew it meant something. Fate? Whatever it was, I didn't want to waste any opportunity. Which is why that day at the dinner, I did that. It wasn’t planned or anything, but I just felt something that day. Some urgence?

However, then I learned of Doyoung’s mutual interest in her too. We talked it out, but we left it at “It’s whoever she wants. Whoever she chooses.” But to my surprise, it ended up being both of us.

I smiled down at her sleeping face. She’s cute. Everything about her was just so beautiful. Whether what just happened ends up being a regret for her once she wakes up, I hope she knows or at least has some awareness of our feelings for her.

“Hey!” Doyoung yells, capturing me out of my haze. “I finished cleaning it, bring her over here so we can wipe her clean.”

I nodded, placing her gently back down onto the couch. Doyoung began cleaning her with a wet cloth he got from our private bathroom. “Go get her a pair of clothes, in the meantime Jae,” Doyoung says.

“Mmm, be right back then.”

I exited, leaving them behind. On the elevator ride, my thoughts were consumed with questions. Good and bad ones. In particular, “What will happen once she wakes up?” I tried shrugging them off, as my answers will come once she wakes up.

“Hm?” I stirred my eyes open. ‘Where am I? This isn’t my apartment?’

“Awake already, sleeping beauty?” A voice said. I recognized that voice… Doyoung!

“A-Ah I-” “Water?” Jaehyun says, handing me a water bottle. I gladly accepted it, my throat felt quite dry. ‘Wait a minute… Oh Shit!’ I nearly choked on the water as I remembered what had transpired a couple hours ago. I looked outside their windows, the night sky illuminating.

“Uhm… I-” Jaehyun interrupts me, “regret it?” I looked at him puzzled, ‘regret?’

“What? No, No! I… I just don’t know what I should say, what I should do…”

“Well, it’s whatever you want Y/N,” Doyoung says, getting closer. “You want us to be friends, we’ll go back to that. You want us to be fuck buddies with one another, we’ll do it. You want to put a label on it, we’ll do that too.”

Is he serious right now?! The three of us? Wouldn’t I be asking for too much? Is it greedy of me that I want that. I want to be with them. I want Doyoung. I want Jaehyun.

I look at the floor, trying to hide my embarrassment from what I was about to admit. “I- I want us to be together. Me, Doyoung, and Jaehyun.”

It went silent, neither of them spoke up. So I took the courage to then look up. I flinched, at how close they’d gotten, standing only a few inches away.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Jaehyun asks. I nod, “Yes, is it selfish of me to?”

Jaehyun nods, “No. Be as selfish as you want with us.” To which Doyoung adds, “We just want you to be happy.”

I feel like crying again, only happy tears though. How could this even be my life right now? A tear trickled down. Then another, and another until I felt both of them wipe them off my face.

I smiled, “Thank you. Thank-”

“There’s no need to thank us. We love you,” Doyoung says, smiling as well.

“He’s right. We love you Y/N,” Jaehyun adds. We all smiled, engulfed in each other's warmth.

Today might’ve just been the best day of my life. No matter what the future brought us, I would be prepared to face it because after all I wasn’t alone.

It was me, Doyoung, and Jaehyun. It was us against the world.

Bonus!

I shifted to the other side of the bed, but a strong hold on me prevented me from doing so. I stirred my eyes open, Jaehyun. Ah, that’s right, this was my life now. I’d moved in with Jaehyun and Doyoung a week ago but the whole thing hasn’t really sunk in yet.

“Good morning,” he muttered. “Admiring me already?”

“N-No!” I refuted. It was barely morning and here he is teasing me already.

He chuckled, and then leaned in to kiss my temple. “Sleep well?” I muttered a small, “Yes” before snuggling against his bare chest. I’ve always felt so safe around him, and Doyoung. They made me feel so safe and loved.

We stayed like that for a while until I felt his hands come down to grope my ass. A shameless man he is. ”Where’s Doyoung?” I asked.

“Work probably,” Jaehyun says as he works his lips from my ear to my jaw. He kissed me so tenderly, every touch of his lips felt so warm; his embrace so warm. Jaehyun’s lips then lingered to my mouth, engulfing me into a tender kiss. It always went like this, he would be gentle but then go rougher. His tongue intruding, teeth clashing, and occasional lip biting.

“So I got you all to myself huh,” he whispered in my ear. I giggled before capturing him in another heated kiss that ended up with Jaehyun on top of me.

His hands roamed all over my body, from my waist to hips to breasts. He squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples that sent an electric shock throughout my body. Oh god.

He parted from our kiss only to look down at my embarrassingly lustful state. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Every part of you baby.”

My heart throbbed at his statement, my face probably beet red. He then began removing my top, leaving my shorts and panties on. He brought his mouth towards one of my breasts, where he began licking it and sucking on my nipple. Later, he returned the same affection to the other neglected breast. I was a squirming mess, I tried getting friction from somewhere, anywhere. God, I was so fucking wet already, I could feel it as it pooled between my legs.

“Eagered like always,” Jaehyun said with a pop as he let go of my breast. His lips kissed down until they reached the waistband of my shorts. Those poor things were off in seconds, along with my panties. I watched as Jaehyun spread my legs open, “God, so wet already.” I moaned his name when I felt him tease my folds with his fingers, and then a Slap.

I widened my eyes at his action. Then again, another Slap. “You like that,” he says, coming closer to my ear. “You like it when I slap your sweet cunt.”

Slap. Oh fuck, was this good. Slap. “Y-Yes!” I yelled. He wasn’t stopping, continuously torturing my cunt. “Look at all this mess you’re making so early in the morning,” Jaehyun’s voice says, bringing his hand to his mouth. I watched as he licked his fingers clean of my essence.

“Get on your hands and knees for me baby,” he later says. I complied, getting in the position he most enjoys. I moaned out even louder when he slid his cock so easily inside me. “Fuck, so wet that it slid right in.”

Grabbing my arms, holding them from behind me, he started mercifully thrusting into me. His cock reaching the deepest part of me like it always has. I was enjoying this so much that I just kept moaning louder and louder.

“Having fun without me?” A voice rose. I quickly looked up, capturing Doyoung’s figure. Oh god.

With another thrust I moaned again. “I was wondering what was going on since I heard screaming, but it looks like our girl was just horny wasn’t she?”

Jaehyun speaks up while thrusting into me, “Yep… Mmm, she thought you… were gone and pounced onto me. Poor thing I couldn't just neglect her.”

“N-No! He- He is ly-lying,” I tried saying. “Lying? Me? You hear that Doyoung she’s accusing me of lying,” Jaehyun says smugly.

“I know, don’t you think she deserves a lesson?” Doyoung questions Jaehyun. Jaehyun chuckles in satisfaction. Oh, no…

Thus, I found myself sucking off Doyoung’s cock while Jaehyun continued pounding into me like some ruthless beast. “Just like that, a little deeper,” Doyoung groans. He watches me intently as I suck his cock into my mouth, but that didn’t last long. Doyoung ended up taking control, thrusting into my throat like I was his personal pleasure toy. Which I admit, I probably was, but hey he was mine too.

“Your pussy swallows me up so well, fuck I’ll never get tired of this,” Jaehyun groans. His thrust had gotten sloppy, meaning he was close to cumming. Good thing I was too as I started squeezing around his cock. I felt Jaehyun’s hand snake to my stomach and then further down. His fingers pinched and rubbed on my clit. I moaned into Doyoung’s cock, the sensation causing his cock to twitch in my mouth.

“I’m cumming,” Jaehyun groaned, thrusting his cock into me one last time. I also met my orgasm, cumming all over Jaehyun’s cock. He must’ve been watching as our cum mixed together, oozing out of my pussy.

“Shit, I’m cumming too,” Doyoung abruptly says, releasing his seeds inside my mouth.

Once we both caught our breaths it was back to fucking again. There was no stopping us once we started. Which was how I ended up with Doyoung’s cock buried within me. “Spread your legs wider,” Doyoung says. “Good girl, keep 'em like that.”

“Open your mouth,” Jaehyun says from the side. I opened it only for him to spit in my mouth and then start kissing me again. My lips are going to be so swollen from all the kissing, but my pussy from all the rough pounding. However, those concerns were at the bottom of my list. The pleasure they kept giving me was too blissful.

I love this. I love Doyoung. I love Jaehyun. “I love you,” I whispered, just loud enough for them both to hear. The three-word phrases elicited a small smile on their faces.

“We love you more.”

24.05.02

final a.n: hi again! i would like to apologize for the delay. i think i have spoken up about this before but i would like to inform u all that as i am still a student, it can be hard to juggle all things at once. im very sorry for not uploading during the month of april, it truly saddens me but with school on my plate its been rather difficult. however, from now on i promise to at least post once a month. thank you for your patience i truly am grateful to every single one of you! i love you all <3!!!!!!!

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a-hermit-pining · 9 months ago

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Sukuna as a House Husband

Genre: Fluff Pairing: House husband Sukuna x Reader AN: Might be OOC but humor me people. Coming up Geto as househusband 🥰

First few months of Sukuna's career as a househusband are nothing less than accidents that involved smoke alarms and questionable fire extinguisher techniques. The transition from malevolent kitchen to a less lethal one takes quite a minute.

From handing you Lunchables to becoming pinterest core this man takes quite a journey.

Everyday chores that start with ill concealed annoyance and were in the past pointedly pushed on to you are taken over the minute he notices the residues of shared lunch from another in your lunchbox.

How dare you accept someone else's food? The entire evening, Sukuna glared at the takeout pizza with enough intensity to melt the cheese. You swear the pepperoni visibly cowered under his icy gaze.

And the revelation that some random Joe- Shmoe, a pathetic nameless mortal, had lent you his lunch is enough incentive for this man get in action.

This old man has lived his share of luxury as the king of curses. So, the minute he decides to flex his culinary skills your lunches take an immediate promotion.

The obsolete cooking technique no one can replicate...? You bet he's pulling that.

Puts Uraume on the speed dial as the trials of kitchen begin for him. This time, though much to both their disappointment limited to animal meat.

Does not take long before both become grocery shopping buddies for life. Sukuna scowling at unfamiliar vegetables while Uraume patiently explains the difference between shallots and scallions to his Lord.

Weekends take a turn for the… interesting as you become their resident TikTok handler, phone propped precariously on the counter while they attempt to recreate the latest viral trends. Fruit Roll ice cream remains mind blowingly top tier in your household. Getting a reaction even from Uraume.

Sukuna preens under the praise at office potlucks, basking in the envious stares directed at your lunchbox. Every "wow" and "that looks amazing" fuels his ego.

But the real win? Insanely proud when he sees you take pictures of the lunches he makes and even more so when you show him the stories you post on the internet (save his old soul).

Deep into his retirement phase of immortality, Sukuna discovers the joy of aesthetic. This man takes one look at dark academia, gothic Victorian mood boards and not your living room looks like a lair worthy of a final boss villain (which, to be fair, it kind of already was)..

Super into thrifting or picking a random haunted piece of furniture to add character to your living space as he insists, despite your very real concerns about the wailing coming from the armchair at 3 am.

Still a baddie tho. Will get into fights with loud neighbors or bachelor pad finance bros when their trash isn't sorted properly. And it, unfortunately is your responsibility to drag this man back home.

Cleaning is where he draws the line. You will not spot Sukuna with a duster. Ever. So, hiring a cleaning service seemed like a brilliant solution. Except, Sukuna couldn't resist micromanaging their every move. The poor cleaning staff — a battle-hardened group of professionals — withered under his endless critiques on porcelain dusting techniques. Needless to say, generous tips were the only reason they continued to show up.

The King of Curses, a being who once feasted in halls of obsidian and dined on delicacies fit for gods. Yet, the peace and ownership of your little townhouse is sweeter than any other possession of past. His dirty little heart is endeared to his home with you.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #fluff #househusband au #ryomen sukuna

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mya-valentine · 4 months ago

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Headcanon: Pantalone Spoiling His S/O

Pantalone, being the wealthiest of the Harbingers, spares no expense when it comes to his S/O. He loves seeing them draped in the finest clothing, accessories, and materials from all across Teyvat. Whether it’s an exclusive Mondstadt perfume or rare jewelry from Liyue, he makes sure his S/O has the best of everything.

He doesn’t just buy expensive clothing off the rack. Pantalone hires the best tailors to design custom outfits that perfectly fit his S/O's tastes and appearance. He’s incredibly detail-oriented, ensuring that every piece of fabric, every gem, and every stitch is flawless.

From surprise gifts of luxurious items to extravagant gestures, Pantalone is always thinking of new ways to spoil his S/O. One day, it’s an elaborate silk gown, the next, a beautifully crafted weapon. He loves the look of surprise and delight on their face when they open his carefully selected gifts.

Pantalone takes his S/O on luxurious, private getaways to the most beautiful and exclusive locations in Teyvat. Whether it's a private island off the coast of Inazuma or a secluded villa in Liyue, he makes sure they can enjoy time together without any interruptions. The trips are filled with candlelit dinners, scenic views, and decadent experiences.

He knows every high-end restaurant and chef across the lands, and he’s always treating his S/O to the best cuisine Teyvat has to offer. When they dine out, he always ensures they get the finest table with a view and the best service. If his S/O prefers to dine at home, he’ll arrange for private chefs to come in and prepare gourmet meals tailored to their favorite tastes.

Pantalone is a connoisseur of precious gems and metals, so naturally, he spoils his S/O with rare and exquisite jewelry. Whether it's a sapphire necklace from Snezhnaya or a rare diamond bracelet from Fontaine, he makes sure his S/O shines wherever they go.

Pantalone ensures that their home is nothing short of palatial. He spares no expense in decorating the home with lavish furniture, rare antiques, and fine art. Everything is designed for comfort and beauty, giving his S/O a place to relax and indulge in the life of luxury.

Pantalone knows the importance of relaxation, and he loves to spoil his S/O with spa days. Whether it’s in an exclusive bathhouse or a private spa in their home, he ensures they are pampered with massages, baths, and all the treatments they could want. He'll even join them for a relaxing day, ensuring they feel completely at ease.

Pantalone will sometimes send his S/O out with their own personal shopper, ensuring they have access to the latest fashion, trends, and accessories. He enjoys seeing them embrace their own style, and often arranges to have new pieces custom-made to suit their preferences.

While he loves to lavish his S/O with the finest things, Pantalone is also attentive to their emotional needs. If they express interest in a book or a trinket from a local shop, he’ll make sure they have it—whether it’s an expensive item or a simple keepsake. It’s these thoughtful gestures that show how much he truly listens and cares.

Despite his generosity, Pantalone doesn’t give gifts to flaunt his wealth. He has a subtle elegance about how he spoils his S/O, always ensuring that the attention is on them and how much they deserve to be treated well. He enjoys their happiness more than anything else.

Beyond the material wealth, Pantalone ensures his S/O feels secure in the relationship. His loyalty and devotion are unwavering, and he’ll do anything to keep them safe and content, using his influence and power to protect them from any threats.

Pantalone spoils his S/O not just because he can, but because he truly believes they deserve the best. His lavish gestures are just one way he shows his affection, and he delights in making his S/O feel cherished in every way.

Masterlist

#pantalone x reader #pantalone #fatui harbingers x reader #pantalone genshin #genshin impact pantalone #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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darkmaga-returns · 3 months ago

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Finally feeling vindicated after months of predicting the economic whiplash and downturn that would inevitably follow the Covid policies, we’re now seeing the impacts bear down on the economy in full force.

The latest employment report underscores this reality, with just a meager 12,000 jobs added in October 2024—and that’s largely thanks to government hiring. If not for the 40,000 new government jobs, these numbers would look even worse.

Here’s a breakdown of the latest data that the administration doesn’t want to highlight:

Establishment Survey Highlights

Total Private Sector: 28,000 jobs lost—a clear sign of trouble for the core of our economy.

Goods-Producing Sector: 37,000 jobs lost, with manufacturing hit hardest.

Construction: Added just 8,000 jobs, a painfully low number for an industry that typically drives growth.

Manufacturing: Down by a staggering 46,000 jobs—a blow to American industry.

Retail Trade: Lost 1,000 jobs, indicating that consumer spending may be faltering.

Transportation and Warehousing: Down 4,000 jobs, another worrying sign as logistics slow.

Temporary Help Services: Plummeted by 49,000 jobs, a typical canary in the coal mine for future employment trends.

Healthcare: Added 51,000 jobs, providing some stability, yet not enough to offset broader declines.

Government Jobs: Increased by 40,000—masking deeper problems in the private sector.

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sgiandubh · 3 months ago

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The point is no one knows how many he or any these big accounts actually does have. This type of behavior aligns with the FACT he is not as popular as you all want him to be and explains why his engagement numbers are low and although he has 4M IG followers, you ask any random 100 people on the street in the US where his US based show is the most popular and not a one will have a clue who he is. He has about 250k fans and 25k fanatics. Not many to build a future career on and not many to hide some secret marriage, relationship to a co star who is legally married to someone else with one son.

Dear FACT Anon,

Brush up your grammar first, you begin your Orwellian Two Minutes Hate with another nonsense phrase: 'The point is no one knows how many he or any these big accounts actually does have.' This, you see, betrays you - enough said: your native language is a Germanic one, albeit not English and not German. Dutch, perhaps?

No one knows what, exactly? How many fans? How many followers? Quite different things indeed, and you surely know it: you logically still are a fan and show appreciation for what he does, even if you don't follow him on Instagram . You can't be that stupid as to presume all of his fans are just on Instagram, do you? Thus, how is some fluctuating index relevant in the great scheme of things? It is partial. It is segmented. It is easily explained by external factors, such as the ones I have described. Why you still cling to this cargo cult belief is just beyond me.

If S were Coca Cola and you were a hired consultant in charge of a global analysis of the brand, I would have fired you already. I don't care how the outlook is on the Ruritarian market only, the brief you would have gotten was to go global and come with the latest trends.

'you ask any random 100 people on the street in the US where his US based show is the most popular and not a one will have a clue who he is. He has about 250k fans and 25k fanatics.' Look at you talking, dear illiterate: 'not a one', when English has the very effective 'no one' or 'not a single one'. The rest comes from the spite and bile of a particular blogger, you all chose to snowball endlessly. It is wrong. It is strange. It is boring. I don't even know how you came up with these figures: instead of parroting whatever you have been told, kindly explain the method you used to reach them. Extrapolation has its limits and it is always used in order to artificially inflate, not deflate something at all costs. I see no point in entertaining this theory based on absolutely nothing.

But your point was not related to all of the above. All of the above was but a pretext for you to shove in your last phrase. I think you are in a very bad spot in your life, Anon. I'd seriously suggest to get help, at this point. You deserve better than this kind of ridiculous, pointless Internet joust.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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ruggiezz · 1 year ago

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— BUT YOU'LL NEVER HAVE MY HEART : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] riddle never got the freedom he wanted, and now he has to marry a woman he doesn't even know

[characters] riddle rosehearts x reader

[extra] this is all pure angst and arranged marriage

The venue looked impeccable—a place where someone of his social standing would marry. The guests were renowned people, contacts his parents made, and people his parents advised him to have an amicable relationship with. Riddle doesn't know any of them, yet he still had to greet everyone with a smile.

This is his wedding, and it just feels... cold. This isn't how he had pictured his wedding would be.

When was the last time he saw his friends? It's not like they would be allowed to come, but he found himself missing them every day. Are Ace and Deuce just as close as they were before? Is Cater still up to the latest trends? Did Trey continue working for his family business?

And most importantly, are you doing well? Have you met someone else?

Everything went downhill the day he graduated. He thought, just like everybody else, that he had made progress in becoming more independent and that maybe, he could have the life he wanted instead of the one his parents planned for him, but the second he tried to open his mouth to tell his mother, he froze.

Riddle got his medical degree just like his parents expected of him, and he cut contact with everybody else without any explanation. The calls and texts kept coming, but they were never answered. What could he have told you after he suddenly disappeared? That he will never get to be together with you for the rest of your lives, like he promised? That he will think of you every day, and please don't forget him either? No, he can't do that to you; he can't let you mourn a relationship that wasn't meant to be. It's better if you believe he never loved you in the first place.

And now here he was, waiting to recite vows filled with empty promises of loving each other unconditionally, until death does them apart. But Riddle doesn't mean any of it, and the girl standing in front of him doesn't either.

It hurt. It hurt so much, he got a little taste of freedom only for it to get snatched from him not once but twice. He felt like that kid trapped inside his house again—that kid who got to experience unconditional love from his first friends only to get it taken away.

He wants to see you again, so badly.

But if he sees you again, can he bring himself to say it to your face? What if he throws himself in your arms and cries, apologizing and begging you to forgive him? He's sure you would look as beautiful as the day he last saw you. Riddle wishes to see you so badly, yet he can't bring himself to even search for you. He feels like a coward and a traitor. He betrayed everybody who believed in him; he hurt them again, just like he did when he was a kid.

Please let this all be a nightmare, let him wake up in your arms in the middle of the night, let him tell you about this horrible nightmare he had as you calm him down. Please let him hold you, touch your cheeks, anything, anything that proves you're real.

As the wedding officiant kept talking and Riddle stood there on the aisle, he allowed himself to fantasize for a few seconds about the wedding you both could have had.

It would have been small and intimate. A wedding where Cater cheers and takes more photos than the hired photographer, where Trey is the best man, where Ace, Deuce, and Grim bawl their eyes out over seeing their best friend marry, and where Chenya sneaks to the catering table and eats as many pastries as he can. A wedding where he could place the ring in your hand and kiss you. Oh sevens, how he wished it was you standing next to him in the aisle, how beautiful you would look, and how giddy he would feel hearing you say yes.

But that would never happen.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts

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ashtxeman · 4 months ago

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A small analysis of the Black Friday line and the townie's individual wants

some hc stuff dabbled in here (mostly for james shopper), but the majority is based on canon!

Sherman Young: A classic case of being spoiled, he's greedy, if he wants something he'll get it no matter what. He's got the power of a hot rich Mother on his side so, there was no way he wasn't going to be there. If he lacks something, he feels incomplete and he'll probably wine about it too. Wiggly to him is like the final piece in his collection, the crowning jewel of all toys. As long as he doesn't have him he's not going to be happy.

James Shopper/The Corrupt Man: He's a clone of Charles Coven, and struggles heavily with seperating himself from his creator. He sees Wiggly as a way to be somebody new. Also explains his attachment to Linda's cheque, good treasure and great coin y'know. Wiggly is an opportunity to have a hobby or interest outside of what he's inherited from Charles.. and his want for Wiggly is also excentuated by the very greed he got from Charles.

Linda Monroe: Wilbur said most of this himself, she's desperate for adoration and thinks she'll find it if she gives her bratty children what they want.. or what she assumes they would want. We know they would never have actually mentioned Wiggly or shown interest, but Linda as a very shallow minded individual when it comes to these things would take a look at Wiggly, think of him as the latest 'trend', and set off to get the dolls for her boys. But her children don't really matter in the grand scheme of things, she's getting the Wiggly for herself as a source of adoration. She gives it to people who want it, and in return to she gets that love she craves so deeply.

Becky Barnes: On a surface level Becky is there to get dolls for the children, but in actuality she more likely wants the doll because she feels empty and alone. After the incident with Stanley she probably helps those feelings by interacting with the children and helping them, but once the doll is introduced she's drawn to it as a permanent source of happiness. A cure. Children come and go, but Wiggly is forever.

Tom Houston: Tom thinks he's here for his son, in a similar way to Becky where he feels empty and alone since the loss of Jane but finds those feelings easier to bare when Tim is happy. But deep down, he's here for himself. He knows that eventually Tim is going to grow sick of him, he's convinced himself that Tim blames him for what happened and they're inevitably going to grow apart. He'll be left more alone than ever before. If he gets a Wiggly, he can impress Tim and make him happy, make him want to stay. Or maybe, if he gets one, Tim won't even matter anymore.. Because just like it is with Becky, children come and go, but Wiggly is forever.

Curt's Shopper/Mildy Peeved Mega: He mentions that he 'lost his job when the plant closed' and he's clearly low on funds given how he complains about Wiggly's price fluctuating, so it's pretty obvious he's here for a Wiggly because he thinks it can help him forget his employment and financial troubles. Being unemployed must suck, especially in Hatchetfield where the threat of homelessness means a whole lot more. He's desperate for a crutch to help him forget. And who knows, if he has a Wiggly maybe people will think his cool and they'll hire him.

The Homeless Man: Joey's actually said a lot about this on commentary and such. The Homeless Man really wasn't there for a Wiggly at all.. he just saw everybody crowding and thought it looked warm, so joined in. Simply a case of him not wanting to freeze to death out in the cold. Though, when he does finally get his hands on a Wiggly and finds himself in the cult, it's easy to assume why. If anybody has holes that need to be fixed, it's him. His lovers dead, everyone hates him, and he's been haunted by a massive goat. Of course he'll think a cuddly little doll could help him!

Barry Swift/Man in a Hurry: Barry has one surface level character trait, and it's that he can never slow down. If you look to his dialogue in Daddy where he mentions trouble with his past relationships because of his tendency to hurry, you see just how much it ruins his life and even get the sense that he hates hurrying, but somehow has no choice but to do it anyway. A man who can never stop and enjoy life? Always gotta be on the move, looking for the next thing? The moment something like Wiggly comes into the picture, he's going to want it. Perhaps he thinks it'll finally motivate him to slow down and let him enjoy something.. or maybe he's just greedy and wants it so he can laugh in people's faces and say he's got one.

Gary Goldstein: Gary loves everybody in town, and really just wants to be appreciated and maybe even admired. Nobody credits him where he's due and some of his best clients treat him like shit (Sherman abusing his services for petty things, and Linda doing the same with the added threat of her husband if their affair is discovered). He's here for a Wiggly just because he knows it's the latest trend and if he gets in on it, people might like him more and he'll finally feel appreciated. He will do anything to be liked. Even join a cult and kick a man to death.

#starkid #starkid productions #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #starkid black friday #sherman young #james shopper #linda monroe #becky barnes #tom houston #mildly peeved mega #the homeless man #barry swift #man in a hurry #gary goldstein #audit time 🧣

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somedaylazysomeday · 1 year ago

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A Grand Deception - Part One

As a seamstress, you know your way around a ballgown. A ballroom is a different story, but you are determined to experience it for yourself.

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Personal Disclaimer: I wrote this having only watched the Bridgerton tv show. About a week ago, I discovered that Benedict's book-canon love story shares some similarities with my fic. These similarities are coincidental. After posting a poll about the topic, I decided to share this work anyway. Please know I am aware of the situation!

Rating: Mature. Minors, do not interact

Word Count: 5,200

Warnings: A lot of backstory, trespassing, lying about identity, alcohol consumption, flirting, references to Regency-era values. Author played fast and loose with rules of Regency dining etiquette.

Next | Masterlist

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It was of some comfort to you that - when the situation inevitably unraveled - you could not claim to have invented the idea yourself.

You were hardly the first seamstress who used her skills to disguise herself. Nor were you the first to use her overheard knowledge to learn who may be hosting a masquerade ball so she could attend.

To that end, Madame Delacroix had told you of her own experience infiltrating the ton’s events. You had learned well, but you were merely another follower, not a visionary. The penalty for your transgression would not change, but your conscience would be eased slightly with the knowledge.

The single inspiration you could claim as entirely your own was that of your shop. You purchased gowns at the end of every season, researched coming trends for the next season, and altered the gowns to fit.

Ladies of rich and respectable families were willing to part with gowns for a relative pittance, but most of your gowns were from society matrons. When their time playing chaperone to some wide-eyed miss had ended in a successful engagement, the lucky matron retired to a comfortable life in the countryside. What use did she have for extravagant society gowns there? And, with the style of gathers and ruffles for married women, you could easily fashion multiple gowns from one matronly dress.

Your shop was hardly the most popular one in London, but you ran a brisk enough business. There were no investors to keep fat with your profits, and you poured most of your money back into the materials and help you hired. It could tax the nerves to operate with such a small amount of money in your coffers, but such was the nature of the business. The lead-in to a season was incredibly busy and profitable, but the off season could ruin you.

But you were happy. Your work was varied and interesting. You worked with sumptuous fabrics in the richest colors. It was a necessity to keep abreast of the latest fashion trends. You truly could not have imagined a better life for yourself.

And yet… you were unbearably curious about how it would feel to wear one of your creations. You were occasionally hired to style a hopeful debutante, but you handed her off to a chaperone before she walked out through the front door of her own home. You witnessed all of the preparations and you had been party to the aftermath, but you had never had the opportunity to attend a ball.

It was a silly dream. You were the daughter of a tailor, and not one who served the upper echelons of London society. Your mother spent her time running the household herself - a necessity, as your family could not afford to keep servants. Your brother worked at a newspaper, operating the printing presses. Your sister had married well, wedding a butcher who lived above his shop in a respectable section of the city.

You had already achieved one silly dream when you had opened your own shop. Rather than satisfying you, that achievement only convinced you that you were capable of incredible things. Why should a ball be the exception?

Fortunately, the ton was an uninspired thing and thus wholly predictable. At least once every season, at least one family believed themselves to be the most creative souls and hosted a masquerade.

Your ability to foresee the trend had allowed you to plan far in advance. After the last season had ended and you made your purchases, you had bought just enough fabric to fashion yourself a dress. The material was simple, but of high quality, and you had embroidered beading and embellishment enough to allot the finished product an artistic simplicity rather than leaving it painfully plain.

The mask you had chosen only assisted the illusion of being understatedly gilded. It was a shining silver - not a true metallic mask, but a close enough facsimile that it seemed to be a choice due to the weight rather than the price of the silver. There was a delicate tracery over your brow and along the swells where the mask arched over your cheekbones.

The effect of the outfit was far from dramatic, especially when you very well knew the sort of dresses that the young ladies of the ton would be wearing at the ball, but you had been purposeful about it. You were trying to fade into the background, and it seemed likely that you would succeed.

One of your more clever ideas had been to cut the dress as a matronly garment rather than a daring one meant for a debutante. Doing so would relegate you to the realm of mamas, chaperones, and spinsters. Few bothered to steal a second glance at that foreboding cloud of judgment, disapproval, and eager plotting. You were too pragmatic to think your plan foolproof, but you had taken as many precautions as you could imagine.

The Lawsons had been the ones to secure a masquerade theme for the season, and you strategically arrived at the home at eleven, a full hour after the ball had begun. It was a simple thing to slip around the corner of the great manor house, entering through a side corridor. When you passed any of the house’s servants, you ducked your head and nervously arranged your hair.

With that attitude and countenance, they would likely believe you were returning from some secret tryst in a private place, not attempting to sneak in entirely. Servants were paid for their discretion - at least, in the eyes of the ton - so your exploits would not be disseminated until the following morning at the earliest.

Your matron-styled dress allowed for a more flexible corset than the most fashionable styles, but you still found that your breath was short as you reached the ballroom. You were thankful for the music, as it gave you a better idea of where your ultimate goal was.

The room was cavernous, yet filled to the brim with intricate details. A second-story balcony curved around the majority of the room, rather like the opera house you’d had the privilege to visit once. A grand staircase descended from the middle of that balcony, and it was full of still-arriving debutantes and their chaperones.

The orchestra was sat on the balcony along either side of the staircase, and you noted the way each instrument seemed to take precedence in turn as you walked along the length of the floor. They were playing a quadrille at the moment, and the dancing couples seemed as enamored by the music as much as by each other.

Above and all around, candles glowed and flickered, casting small pools of light across every surface. A chandelier hung overhead, eye-catching in its size and brightness. The crystals set among the candles sent tiny reflected rainbows dancing across the crowd beneath. The reflectors behind the candles on the main floor helped catch the brightness that would otherwise be wasted on the walls, throwing it out into the room until it looked near daylight. The effect was multiplied by an array of mirrors set around the room, refracting both light and the furor of activity in the ballroom.

Conversations filled any spaces left in the music. Everywhere, men and women chatted, laughed, and told stories. They were eye-catching with their grand gestures, only made more fascinating with their ornate clothing. You longed for a scrap of paper so you could make note of the styles of this season, and how they might be adapted to meet the styles of the next.

A table at one side of the room was manned by a servant offering refreshments. You knew from the stories you had heard that a supper would be served at one, but there were beverages for any guest or dancer who may need one. You accepted a glass of iced punch with a grateful nod to the servant. It was remarkably hot in the room, especially compared to the chill of the January evening.

Sipping the strong punch - and abruptly understanding the wisdom of such small glasses - you ventured forth to find a vantage point for observing the crowd.

You found one buried in the crowd of matrons and chaperones. They were watching the dance floor with great interest, speculating about matches and comparing notes on how the gentlemen and young ladies had been occupying themselves during the season thus far. It was the perfect location - a view of everything and in earshot of all the information you could possibly desire. Some of the information was likely to be nothing more than rumor, but you cared little. It was entertaining enough to compensate for a lack of veracity.

“Benedict!” one woman called. She was a handsome woman, dark hair perfectly coiffed to match her elegant dress. You recognized her even from behind as the widowed Lady Bridgerton.

A man separated from a group of other young men and approached, smiling expectantly. He bore a strong resemblance to Lady Bridgerton, and was wearing the simple black mask that seemed popular among the men of the ballroom. “Yes, Mother?”

“Do dance with Miss Harper this evening,” Lady Bridgerton instructed. “She needs cheering after the loss of her uncle. And she would be quite an excellent match for you.”

You wrinkled your nose. Arranged marriages were less common than they had been when you were a child, but the aristocracy still tended to take a heavy hand in deciding their children’s future spouses.

Unfortunately, the young Bridgerton glanced over his mother’s shoulder and took in your expression. You hurriedly glanced down at your glass, as if your face had been a reaction to the strong punch, then applied yourself to staring around the room.

“I will take that under advisement, Mother,” Benedict said. Your wayward glance prevented you from seeing his face, but his voice was filled with laughter. “If you’ll excuse me?”

He departed then, retreating back across the ballroom. However, you were far from unobservant, and you counted the multiple times he noted your position from among the group of laughing gentlemen. You did your utmost to ignore him, taking solace in the knowledge that your mask protected your identity from whatever scrutiny he may choose to apply.

You could hardly pretend surprise when you found him standing beside you scarcely an hour after you had overheard the conversation between Lady Bridgerton and her son. He was facing quite the opposite direction, but you could not fail to miss the way he inched closer every time you took a step away.

At long last, he bumped into you with his broad shoulder, sloshing your punch onto the floor and still refusing to acknowledge you.

“And to think Bridgertons are said to be well-mannered,” you snipped waspishly.

He glanced back at you, eyes bright. “I beg your pardon, miss. I did not see you. Allow me to fetch you a new glass of punch in recompense for my rudeness.”

“No, thank you,” you said, the coldness in your voice detracting from the politeness of your words. “I would not take the risk of another incident.”

“Did it stain your gown?” he asked, taking your elbow and looking you up and down. However solicitous it may have seemed at first, the mischief in his expression belied the gesture.

You glared at him until he dropped your arm. “You need not feign concern, Lord Bridgerton. You have apologized, I have accepted it, and my gown escaped the incident unscathed. There is no need to continue our acquaintance.”

With a final frown for good measure, you turned away. Benedict seemed undaunted, keeping step with you as you found a servant to take your near-empty glass.

“May I ask your name, then?” Benedict asked, for all the world like you had not dismissed him.

“Lady Sharp.”

It was a falsehood you had planned well in advance. The Sharps were one of the largest families in London, some branches so far-flung that no one seemed capable of remembering who was who.

Despite your confidence in your assumed identity, Benedict paused for a moment and your heart stuttered. At long last, he smiled. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Perhaps if you continued to be short with him, Benedict would understand that he should leave you well enough alone.

And yet… The young Bridgerton continued to stay close as you watched the dancers, interrupting your overheard bits of gossip with remarks of his own. His commentary was amusing, but you continued to be irked by his presence. He was drawing attention by standing with the chaperones, dowagers, and doting mothers, and some of that attention was reflected onto you by virtue of proximity.

“You need not remain close as some form of apology, Lord Bridgerton,” you informed him at last. “You have more than adequately apologized for your earlier misstep, and I would rather not be on the receiving end of your mother’s scorn if you miss your dance with Miss Harper.”

Benedict shrugged. “Miss Harper is occupied well enough with other partners. It is my duty to see to it that every lady may dance if she chooses. Shall we?”

You frowned deeply, staring from his face to his proffered arm and back. “I do not dance.”

He paused at that. “Surely you are simply being modest…”

“I assure you, I mean what I say,” you told him, voice appalled, “I do not dance. If you feel a particular urge toward the dance floor, I urge you heed it and find a suitable partner before they have all been otherwise engaged.”

Benedict turned slightly, his gaze traveling from one end of the crowded ballroom to the other. When he had completed the visual circuit, he faced you, grinning engagingly once more. “I appreciate your concern, but I would rather continue our conversation.”

Your mouth fell inelegantly open. Thankfully, the room was called to attention before you could loose a scathing comment about your time together.

Lady Lawson stood at the bottom of her grand staircase, Lord Lawson standing attentively to her left. A servant you recognized as their butler announced in a booming - yet not abrasive - voice, “Lord and Lady Lawson invite you to adjourn to the dining rooms.”

To your dismay, the men and women of the ballroom paired together. The crowd moved steadily in the direction indicated by the butler.

Benedict offered his arm once more. “May I escort you to the dining room, Lady Sharp?”

You paused, frantically searching for a reason you might excuse yourself. If the Lawsons had arranged for their guests to sit in predetermined places, your presence would not only be marked, but commented upon and questioned. And yet, the gathered crowd meant that slipping away would be nigh impossible.

“Lady Sharp?” Benedict asked again, pulling you from your thoughts. “You are attending dinner, are you not?”

“Yes… yes, of course,” you said, immediately belied by your trembling voice. From a sheer lack of options, you accepted Benedict’s arm. “Thank you, Lord Bridgerton.”

He inclined his head as if to silently acknowledge your thanks and steered you into the dining room.

Truly, there was far more than one room in which to dine. There seemed to be at least three hosting tables set with full arrays of silver plates and utensils. The dining areas seemed far less brightly lit than the ballroom was, the low lighting offering a soft intimacy that made the surrounding couples perk with excitement. Clearly, the flirtations of the dance floor would not be suspended due to a simple supper.

“May I help you find your seats, sir?”

You had been too entranced by your own thoughts - the sudden appearance of the servant made you start like a spooked horse. Benedict patted your hand. The gesture was a bit condescending, but you found it oddly soothing. Far more worrisome, however, was the sight of small name cards resting at every place setting on the tables.

“Benedict Bridgerton,” he said. “I believe I was to be seated with my family a few tables behind you. This is Lady Sharp. I will dine with her this evening.”

“But sir…” The servant looked bemused, white brows drawing together. “Lady Lawson was informed that the Sharps would not be in London for this year’s season. Lady Sharp reported that Miss Rosalie Sharp was far too ill to be moved out of her confinement in the countryside.”

You stammered weak protests, but Benedict smoothly interrupted. “Surely Lady Lawson is aware that Lady Clara Sharp decided to winter in London this year. The physician said that a change of scenery would be good after leaving a confinement of her own.”

“A confinement of her-?” The servant shook his head. “My mistress said nothing of this when she was preparing the ball.”

You gathered your nerve. If your ruse were to fall apart, it would not be at the hand of an overly curious servant. You drew yourself up to your full height, giving your best steely-eyed, matronly disapproval. “I had assumed that my lack of an invitation was no more than an ignorant oversight. However, I begin to suspect that it was something far more intentional. Perhaps it would be best if I departed…”

“My apologies, Lady Sharp,” the servant hurried to say. “Please, allow me to find a place for you.”

You inclined your head in the shallowest nod you could muster, watching imperiously as he rushed off to find a place setting for the fictitious Lady Clara Sharp.

“These events are growing less organized by the day,” Benedict confided, shaking his head in mock despair.

The servant returned, sparing you the effort of inventing a response. “I will guide you to your seat, Lady Sharp. Lord Bridgerton, you requested your seat moved beside Lady Sharp’s, did you not?”

“Yes, I believe I should like to dine with Lady Sharp,” Benedict said amiably.

“Very good, sir,” the servant said. “This way.”

You did not particularly enjoy the tone with which Benedict said ‘Lady Sharp’. In his voice, it sounded less like a title and more like a private sort of jest.

Fortunately, your arrival in a far dining room provided a much-needed distraction. This was clearly the last table to have been filled, and as such was seated with an interesting amalgamation of people.

A timid-looking young lady sat nervously adjusting and readjusting the skirt of her dress. Her watchful chaperone eyed the process with fascination and concern. Seated at the chaperone’s other side was an older gentleman who seemed to have overindulged in punch, if you were to guess from his flushed face and exaggerated gestures.

On the other side of the table was a young man who kept glancing at the young lady and pretending that it had been accidental any time he was caught at it. Beside him were two place settings. From the lack of name cards above the plates, you assumed they were meant for you and Benedict.

Abruptly, a wave of vertigo washed over you. You had accomplished so much to be here, yet how many accomplishments were too many? It was as if you had climbed something terribly tall - every time you moved upward, it only left you with further to fall. And if you were to be discovered during this dinner? You would have very far to fall indeed.

“Are you well?” Benedict asked.

You blinked. The servant was holding your chair, waiting to help you be seated. You weren’t hungry in the least, but there was no way to excuse yourself that would not draw more attention than was wise. The only way to return to safety was to continue on as if nothing were amiss.

“Yes, thank you,” you demurred, moving to your seat.

When the skirt of your dress was safely tucked under the table, the servant offered a slight bow and moved away. The first course was laid out on the table, a manservant lingering nearby incase someone required a dish from a different part of the table.

“What may I tempt you with?” Benedict asked. His smile was a touch too wide for the question to be entirely innocent. Before you could say something harsh, he half-stood, fork extended toward a dish holding chilled cuts of meat.

You took a moment to study everything. “Roast chicken, please. And perhaps a few prawns.”

Benedict took your plate and began transferring the items you had requested. “Soup as well?”

“Perhaps a little.”

You eyed the women across the table. The young lady was picking delicately at a few scraps of meat and you were concerned by the quantity of the choices you had made, but her chaperone was tucking into a plate piled high.

Benedict placed your dishes back in front of you and gathered his own selections. When you were both seated again, you cut a piece of chicken and ate it as delicately as you could manage. It was delicious and you congratulated yourself once more on choosing to attend the ball dressed as a chaperone rather than a debutante.

“So, a Sharp in London,” Benedict mused. “I rather believed you all traveled together. Like a herd or a pack.”

You gave him an unamused look at the animal references. “And you pretended to know all of my family’s concerns when we were finding our seats. Do you always lie to achieve your own ends?”

He gave a wince, but it was decidedly playful. “‘Lie’ is such a harsh word, Lady Sharp. I simply choose the path most likely to lead to my destination and follow it.”

“By lying?”

“And I suppose you are a paragon of virtue?” he asked, and you fell silent. It would be rather paradoxical for you to blame him for a lie when you were currently lying to an entire ballroom of people.

“That was not an admonishment,” he clarified after a moment. “Nor was it a bid to halt our conversation. I was enjoying myself.”

“From what I have gathered of your temperament, I doubt you often suffer from the lack of enjoyment,” you snipped. “You seem to find infinite amusement in everything surrounding you.”

Benedict’s eyes widened. “I… am flattered, truly, that you’ve taken such pains to truly detail my character. Perhaps I should return the favor.”

“Do not.” You regretted the warning a moment after you had issued it. Rather than looking dissuaded, Benedict seemed intrigued.

“Indeed, I may be unable to help myself,” he mused. “Your motivations are fascinating, and they would be even more so if you turned out not to be Lady Sharp after all.”

“I am Lady Sharp,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Of course you are,” he agreed easily. “But imagine if you were not. Why would you pretend to be?”

Your mind halted abruptly when faced with the task of imagining your own motivations as if they belonged to another. What should you say? What could you say? For all of his casually friendly demeanor, Benedict was not stupid. It was possible that your false theories of your own motivations would provide him with proof that you were the very person you pretended to understand.

But still, the rules of polite conversation required that you provide some sort of an answer. Your voice was slow as you asked, “Who can begin to guess at the motivations of the poor?”

It was more harsh than you had imagined it would sound, but Benedict did not recoil. Instead, he replied, “Motivations are mysterious, those of the poor and the nobility alike.”

The answer was vague, but you understood why - his eyes were fixed on the young lady at the end of the table and the young man seated across from her.

“Miss Barrett, I found the most interesting flower in the park yesterday afternoon-” he started.

He had the young lady’s attention immediately, a shy smile on her thin face, but her chaperone pointedly cleared her throat before the young lady could reply. “Elisa, it is not proper for you to answer him without being formally introduced.”

“Finnie and I have been friends since before we could walk!” Elisa argued.

“His name is Lord Finlay Spencer,” the chaperone corrected. “And your childhood acquaintanceship does not matter. You have not been officially introduced in the time since he returned to London.”

The young pair fumed silently, with nothing more than frustrated glances shared between them.

“Lady Barrett,” Benedict said abruptly, drawing the attention of everyone who longed to be distracted from the tension. “I understand you are a most loyal patron of the arts. Is that so?”

“It is so, Lord Bridgerton,” Lady Barrett confirmed. “I believe in the importance of preserving artwork for years to come.”

“As do I.” Benedict smiled at her… and at the red-faced man seated to her right. “And our sentiments are shared by our companion, Lord Hopkins. He has recently donated a number of works to your preferred museum. I believe they are to name a wing in his honor.”

Lady Barrett turned to Lord Hopkins, an expression of mingled surprise and admiration. “I recently took in the Hopkins collection. Most impressive, Lord Hopkins.”

Lord Hopkins blinked rapidly, clearly attempting to gather himself. He made an admirable effort as he returned her smile. “You are too kind, Lady Barrett. I mourn the loss of those works, yet they were wasted with only my family to appreciate them. And, if you will pardon my directness, I believe I may have been the only one of the Hopkins family to truly appreciate them.”

“I am certain the Hopkins family has an interest in art ,” Lady Barrett demurred, “though I understand the sense that one has a keener appreciation for art than those around oneself.”

With such a topic brought up, the pair slipped into conversation. Lord Finlay Spencer and Lady Elisa Barrett cast grateful glances in Benedict’s direction and began to speak in softened tones to avoid drawing the attention of the elder Lady Barrett.

“Neatly done,” you complimented lowly. “Yet it prompts me to wonder how often you concern yourself in the affairs of others.”

Benedict shrugged. “I simply enjoy pulling strings to see what unravels. Perhaps that is why I find you so interesting.”

You arched your brows. “And precisely what string of mine do you believe yourself to be pulling?”

“That you are not Lady Sharp, of course.”

He took a sip of wine as you fought to control your expression, and his utter lack of concern was infuriating.

“Are we to continue this thought experiment, then?” you asked at last. “In truth, I am beginning to find it tiresome.”

“I do not need you to confirm my theory,” Benedict told you. “I have gathered proof enough of my own since we met.”

“Proof?” you asked, attempting to sound skeptical rather than afraid.

“You did not wait for an introduction, you claim not to dance, and you did not shyly simper away when I touched your arm,” he listed. “You are no more a lady than I.”

These arguments were presented without censure, but you loosed an inelegant snort regardless. It was foolish and you knew it, but you could not prevent yourself from showing your own powers of observation: “You are wearing a fine silk shirt, a perfectly pressed cravat, and more perfume than anyone else in the room. I am a lady, so it follows that you may be one as well.”

Benedict - unbelievably - grinned at your insults, his eyes crinkling at the edges. You fought not to return the expression, though you found it remarkably contagious. “I believe it is called ‘cologne’ when it is worn by a man. I confess, I’ve never quite understood the difference myself.”

“If you believe I am a fraud, why have you kept me company all evening?” you asked. It was not a confirmation of his suspicions, but it was close enough to make your heart race.

“You are interesting,” he countered. “Certainly the most interesting person here, and among the most interesting people I have ever met.”

You would have found a reason to cut the conversation short if Benedict had pressed for any further information, but he did not. Instead, you continued speaking plainly together through the remaining courses. He wanted to learn your opinions on all manner of things, from politics to the latest fashions.

When the time came to return to the dance floor, he stayed close. He was charming and amusing, but refused to be parted from your side. It could have been cloying, but you privately thought him akin to a particularly amiable sort of burr.

After a few dances had passed, Lady Bridgerton approached, nodding to you with an assessing sort of look. However, she spoke to her son rather than question you. You were grateful for the slight. “Benedict, I believe I asked you to dance with Miss Harper.”

“You did, Mother,” Benedict agreed, “but Lady Sharp and I are speaking of important matters. I could not possibly tear myself away.”

Lady Bridgerton gave him a look filled with motherly disapproval and you cleared your throat. “Lord Bridgerton, we may speak at another time. The number of dances at this ball is limited and the hour grows late. I fear Miss Harper will be fully occupied if you delay longer.”

Lady Bridgerton turned, triumphant, to her son. Benedict sighed and bowed shallowly in your direction. “I beg your pardon, Lady Sharp. I look forward to continuing our conversation after this dance.”

He wove his way through the crowd, presumably in the direction of Miss Harper. Lady Bridgerton remained by your side, and you glanced at her in the silence. She met your gaze, tilting her head curiously in a manner that reminded you of her son. “I do not believe we have met, Lady Sharp. I am Lady Violet Bridgerton.”

You returned her nod with one of your own. “Lady Clara Sharp. Lovely to meet you.”

“I was unaware that any of the Sharp family were in London this season-” she started. Thankfully, she was interrupted by the arrival of a dark-haired young lady.

“Mama, I need to speak with you-”

“Eloise, I am not-”

“Mama, please!” the girl insisted, tugging at her mother’s elbow. Lady Bridgerton studied you for another moment before giving an apologetic smile and allowing her daughter to pull her away.

As cues went, it was a fairly clear one. You steadily worked your way through the crowd until you could slip into an unguarded hall. From there, it was a simple thing to leave the Lawson house, find the cloak you had stored in a disused shed, and travel back to your shop.

When you had removed the mask and the dress, you took careful stock of the evening. The dress and mask would need to be destroyed, and you regretted not bidding a true farewell to Benedict Bridgerton, but you considered the endeavor a success.

One that could never be repeated.

---

Author's Note - As usual with Fanfic February fics, this is a two-parter. Tomorrow's chapter will have spice in it, so please be warned.

Thanks for reading!

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