#and a modeling agency trying to hit him up

[cashweasel]

Faces so lethal they had to go on the billboards

[annefolklore]

Just thinking about soft and loving sex with Bakugo.

Like just imagine he starts to softly cry because he’s never been genuinely praised (outside because of his quirk) and intimate like that with someone. Like when you say I love you while looking at him through his eyes, they actually start watering

Warnings: afab reader, you call him baby and he calls you sweetheart, missionary position if you squint.

! Minors dni !

“Katsuki?” You muttered when he backed up a bit to breath air.

The way his name rolled on your tongue on itself was enough for Bakugo to feel this strange but welcoming warm feeling in his stomach. Your puffy lips from kissing each other, were parted as you breathed and moaned at each of his slow but deep thrust into your heat and the blond couldn’t stop himself from pecking them before answering with his deep voice

“Yeah?”

But you were already zoning out because of his mesmerizing face, because let’s get this straight: Katsuki Bakugo is a beautiful man. Handsome or sexy weren’t good enough to capture his features. From the sharpness of his jawline, his plump pink lips to his captivating crimson eyes, he sure was a piece of art to look at. No wonder he has contracts with multiple modeling agencies for him to be their new front page on magazines.

But these photographers could never really capture you fiancé’s beauty. There is just something about him doing simply…nothing. It could be the way he adjust his glasses when answering emails on his laptop, or him ruffling his hair in the morning in front of the mirror with this tired expression. Or maybe how he smiles when you say terrible jokes while shaking his head. There’s just something with you man that’s breathtaking!

Let’s not even start about his personality! Everyone may describe him as this loud brute, but with you?…Girl that’s another story.

“I love you” you softly say, looking at the ruby orbs a few centimeters from your face.

Oh you love this man and he loves you more even if you guys playfully argues about which one of you loves the other more.

And Katsuki? He loves you so freaking much, he cannot explain it. At the beginning of the relationship, it even scared him a bit about how much he would think about you and care about you opinion on things.

He loves the way your eyes lit up when he shows you the new hairstyle he wants to try and how they sparkle when he comes back from the barber. He loves how you steal his shirts and hoodies to wear as if they’re your own. He loves how you’re always thoughtful about the gifts you give him even though your presence is the best gift he ever had.

But what Bakugo love the most about you isn’t even your features. It’s how you’re always praising him even for the smallest things and how it’s not often about his ability to make explosions.

“You love me?” He echoes and his voice cracks a little.

It wasn’t a secret that Bakugo’s quirk was powerful and that’s why people even talk to him in the first place. “You’re so strong” they said. “I wish I had your quirk” they said. And Katsuki had grown tired of it. Yes, he’s impressive and mighty…but what else? No one tells him how they appreciate him. No one put his name and funny in the same sentence, unlike his friend Kaminari. No one calls him sweet like any other heroes…but you.

You nod your head and your eyes were filling with water, encircling his neck with your arms . “So so much” you continue before joining your lips with his again for a delicate kiss and his tongue immediately went to yours.

Why you were crying? Because you couldn’t understand how nobody ever saw Katsuki as him. He’s so much more than being Dynamight and it just breaks your heart how he never heard such endearing words from somebody else.

“I love you so much, baby” you moan when he perfectly hit again your spongey spot inside of you.

No matter how many times you’d say that sentence in a day, Bakugo will never grow bored of it. He finally has someone who loves him. His warm and calloused hands quickly enveloped your own when he felt his own eyes starting to water. It wasn’t like when he was a teenager, crying late at night because he wasn’t enough. No, this time, it was because he realised that he finally has what he wishes for the most: someone that truly loves him.

“I love you too sweetheart” he whimpers in your ear, at the edge of his orgasm and he could feel you being there too. “So fucking fucking m-much” he moans as he makes his last thrust harder.

He moans your name as he comes inside of you and your heat spasm around his thick member. Katsuki continues to thrust into you to make the pleasure last longer before he lets himself fall on top of you.

Deep breathing was the only sound in the room as you guys catch your breath.

[solxamber]

Shark Tanks and Shady Deals - Azul Ashengrotto x reader

After narrowly dodging a one-way trip to the sharks, you've hit rock bottom, career-wise. Enter Azul: your friendly (totally-not-shady) talent manager. In a moment of desperation, you sign with him. Wait, he's actually really good at this. Like, too good at this. Maybe the near-shark experience was just the universe’s weird way of setting you up?

w.c: 10.5k

You were doomed. Utterly and completely screwed.

The day had started out as usual—you’d shown up for filming in your usual state of caffeine-induced autopilot. But the moment you stepped on set, you’d been hit with the news that the director wanted a small change to your next scene.

A small change, they’d said.

You weren’t sure how dangling over a pool filled with actual sharks for the sake of some cheap thrills counted as a "small" change.

Seriously. Actual sharks. And worse? The scene involved you trying to “seduce” the lead while balancing on a wobbly plank that dangled above the tank. Who wrote this script? Why was this being greenlit? This had to be breaking a law.

“You’ll be perfectly safe!” the director had assured you with that suspicious smile that directors give when they’re one day away from having a lawsuit slapped on their desk. “We’ve had the sharks… sedated. Probably. No need to worry!”

"Probably" wasn't exactly reassuring.

And that’s how you’d found yourself standing in front of your director and refusing. Actually refusing. You weren’t about to let yourself become the thumbnail for the next YouTube video essay about ‘Actors Who Died Stupidly for Garbage Art.’

“C’mon, what are you, chicken?” your co-star had sneered, all smug as if he wasn’t terrified himself. He’d been gripping the railing with white knuckles while trying to act all cool about it.

“Listen, if I wanted to end my career, or my life, I’d start a Twitter feud with a K-pop group,” you had deadpanned, crossing your arms. “I’m not doing it.”

What followed was a spectacular implosion. You could still see the disbelief on the director’s face, as if the concept of an actor saying “no” was alien to him. Your refusal? It kicked off a chain reaction: you were labeled “difficult,” your role was cut, and before you knew it, your agency had dropped you faster than you could say "shark-infested waters."

Now, you were sitting on a park bench, staring at the crumbs of your half-eaten sandwich, contemplating the life choices that had led you to being unemployed and blacklisted from any decent drama in the country. The sharks might’ve been preferable to this.

You sighed. Maybe you’d start a new life. Move to a remote island and become a hermit. Or maybe a fisherman! Fishermen didn’t have to deal with directors, right?

“Excuse me,” a smooth voice cut into your thoughts, breaking you out of your pity party. You blinked up, squinting into the sunlight, only to find yourself staring at a man who was entirely too polished for this park. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the afternoon light in just the right way that you almost thought he was some kind of model.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said, flashing a well-practiced smile. “But you seemed rather... troubled.”

Great. You were so pathetic that strangers were now approaching you out of concern. Fantastic.

“No, it’s fine,” you mumbled, trying to sound less pathetic than you actually were. “I’m just... processing life.”

“Well,” he said, taking a seat beside you with a confidence that made you think he owned the place, “I couldn’t help but overhear a bit about your recent… situation.”

You side-eyed him. “Do I have a sign on my back that says ‘Miserable and Fired’?”

He chuckled softly, and you realized that he probably did know your situation—if the sly look in his eyes was anything to go by. This guy was shady. No questions about it.

“But you know,” he continued, leaning back against the bench, “for someone with your talent, there are always… opportunities. You just need the right connections.”

The way he said "connections" sent a small shiver down your spine. Oh, great. This guy’s gonna offer me some dodgy deal involving pyramid schemes, isn’t he?

“Who are you, exactly? I don't want to sell MLMs by the way” you say, skeptical.

He flashed you a business card. Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of Mostro Corp. The card was ridiculously fancy—embossed gold lettering, sleek finish. It practically screamed ‘shady but professional.’

“I’m a manager,” he said smoothly. “I run an agency that helps clients… of a certain caliber.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Certain caliber?”

“Talented, of course,” he said, smiling like a fox who’d just found a henhouse. “And from what I’ve seen, you have the potential to be a star. It’s just a shame that such talent is going to waste.”

You stared at him for a moment, half expecting him to start laughing and reveal that this was some kind of prank show. But he didn’t. He just kept smiling that annoyingly charming smile, waiting for you to bite the bait.

And you were desperate enough to bite. “Alright, Mr. Ashengrotto. I'll bite. What’s your deal?”

What followed was one of the strangest business meetings you’d ever been part of. You found yourself in a dimly lit café that doubled as Azul’s office, where he laid out his plans for your career with the kind of precision and efficiency that made your head spin.

Everything seemed normal at first—he arranged auditions for you, connected you with stylists, and even got you a few decent roles to build your portfolio. But then, things started getting weird.

For one, Floyd Leech—the guy who looked like he enjoyed squeezing the life out of people for fun—was suddenly your bodyguard. You had no idea why you needed a bodyguard, but there Floyd was, lurking behind you with that predatory grin of his, ready to pounce on anyone who so much as looked at you funny.

“Oh, don’t worry about Floyd,” Azul had said with a dismissive wave when you’d asked about it. “He’s just there for… insurance purposes.”

Insurance against what? You’d wondered, but wisely kept your mouth shut.

Then there was Jade. Ever the smooth talker, Jade seemed to be involved in every part of your career—whether it was subtly manipulating the press or somehow making your critics mysteriously disappear from public view. He was polite and terrifyingly efficient, and you were certain he could make entire scandals vanish with a snap of his fingers. He was shady, but he was the PR manager of your dreams.

And then there was Azul himself. The man was shady, no question. Every time he smiled at you, you half expected him to ask you to sign your soul over to him. But strangely enough, you found yourself growing fond of him. Despite the underhanded methods and the vaguely mafia-esque vibes, Azul actually cared about your success. He was invested in making sure you succeeded.

He pulled out all the stops just to make sure you were taken care of. The small, thoughtful gestures that he tried to pass off as “business necessities” but were far too personal to be anything but affection.

One day, you came back from a particularly grueling audition to find a brand-new set of skincare products waiting for you. Attached to the box was a note: “You deserve only the best. – A.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest.

Azul falls first. And he falls hard.

It had been a good day—or at least, it had been a good enough day. You were walking down the corridor towards Azul’s office, ready to talk about your first gig under his management. You’d been feeling a little lighter lately, knowing that things were finally falling into place with your career. Azul had been a lifesaver, despite his rather... unconventional methods.

But as you approached the door, you froze.

Muffled voices were coming from inside. At first, you thought it was just a typical business negotiation. After all, Azul had many clients and was no stranger to... tense conversations. But then, the voices escalated. One, in particular, sounded agitated, bordering on furious.

You tiptoed closer to the door, the actor in you instinctively picking up on the subtext and emotional cues of the conversation. Whoever was in there was pissed off. You strained to listen.

“I don’t care what the contract says,” the voice spat out, dripping with indignation. “I’m the star of this show. Do you think I’ll let some washed-up nerd dictate how I do my job? I’ve got producers eating out of my hand. You’re lucky I even signed on with your pathetic little company.”

Oof. That was... rough.

There was a pause, and you could picture Azul’s composed expression, his steely calm always in place no matter how nasty things got. His voice was cool, detached. “As your manager, it’s my job to ensure you fulfill the obligations outlined in your contract. If you fail to adhere to them, there will be consequences.”

The other voice laughed—a nasty, derisive sound. “Consequences? Please. What are you going to do? Sue me? You’re just a glorified, ugly, little accountant with delusions of grandeur. I’m the star. Without me, your little operation crumbles. I suggest you remember who holds the power here, Ashengrotto.”

You could feel the insult hanging heavy in the air. Your fists clenched. You knew that comment had really hit. It wasn’t just about the power dynamic in the industry; this actor was taking a shot at Azul’s looks.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You weren’t just going to stand there and let some arrogant, entitled actor stomp all over him. You burst through the door.

“Excuse me,” you said, loud and clear, your eyes fixed on the offending party. They turned to you, surprised. “I couldn’t help but overhear your eloquent speech just now. Really, it was breathtaking. Almost Shakespearean in its delusion.”

The actor blinked, caught off-guard by your sudden entrance.

“And I have to say,” you continued, crossing your arms and giving them a once-over, “you must be so proud of yourself. I mean, to have reached such heights in your career despite having the personality of a wet sock? Incredible. Truly. I’m amazed the directors can tolerate you long enough to hand you a script.”

Azul’s eyes widened slightly as you strolled further into the room, all confidence and righteous indignation. He stood frozen, clearly stunned that you had shown up at just the right time.

The actor’s face turned red, their expression twisting into a snarl. “Who do you think you are?”

“Oh, me? I’m just the one who reads contracts before signing them,” you said sweetly, throwing them a sharp smile. “But hey, I get it—reading is hard for some people. That’s why we have professionals like Azul here. You know, people who are smart enough to handle things like legal terms and intellectual property, which are clearly out of your wheelhouse. Not everyone can be as brilliant as you when it comes to... what was it again? Oh, right, throwing tantrums because the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

Azul blinked, still processing what was happening. You were... defending him? Fiercely? His heart did a little stutter-step, but he tried to pull himself together.

The actor sneered at you, puffing up their chest. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to this. I’m the one with the power here!”

You tilted your head, as if you were considering their words. “Oh, you’re so powerful. Look at you! Big, mighty star. But let me tell you something,” you said, stepping closer with an almost predatory grin, “in this industry? Power isn’t just about being on camera. It’s about the people who pull the strings behind the scenes. People like Azul, who are smart enough to navigate contracts, negotiations, and legalities. You know, the things you clearly didn’t understand when you signed your name on that dotted line.”

You turned to Azul, flashing him a grin before looking back at the actor. “And trust me, you wouldn’t last two minutes without someone like him watching your back. So, instead of throwing a tantrum, why don’t you go home, read your contract—assuming you can read—and think about how grateful you should be that someone as capable as Azul is even willing to manage you.”

The actor sputtered, unable to form a coherent response.

Azul, meanwhile, was still trying to catch his breath. He knew you were a talented actor, but this? This was something else. The way you stood up for him with such... confidence, such fire, had him reeling. His mind was spinning in ways he couldn’t quite grasp. You had stood up for him, defended him so fiercely, and made it look effortless. His heart gave another traitorous lurch in his chest. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way—certainly not about a client. But, wow, the way you had just handled that situation was...

The actor stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind them. You just stood there, hands on your hips, victorious. You turned to Azul with a grin.

“Problem solved,” you said with a wink.

Azul blinked, mouth slightly open. “I... What just...”

“You’re welcome,” you said, walking up to him and tapping the stack of contracts in his hand. “You’re too polite sometimes. Let people like me do the talking every once in a while.”

Azul’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. You could practically hear the gears grinding in his head as he tried to process his emotions. All he could think about was how confident you were, how assertive, how... attractive.

Jade and Floyd would never let him live this down.

But right now, Azul couldn’t think about that. All he could think about was how you had defended him so effortlessly and how his heart was racing in a way he’d never quite felt before. Oh no. He was in trouble.

And as you shot him another smile, one of those dazzling, confident grins that made his stomach flip, Azul realized something else: He was falling. Hard.

You’re sitting in the lounge of Mostro Corp’s office, Azul across from you, his usual composed self with a pen in hand as he reviewed some new contracts. Everything felt calm—well, calm for him. You, on the other hand, were fidgeting in your seat. You needed to break the news to him about the offer, and frankly, you had no idea how to approach it.

“So,” you begin, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I got an offer from another agency.”

Azul’s pen screeched to a halt, freezing mid-signature as if someone had just told him that Mostro Lounge had run out of drinks during peak hours. He didn’t look up immediately—no, instead, his glasses slid ever so slightly down his nose, the slight twitch of his fingers giving away the panic brewing underneath his pristine exterior.

“What?” His voice came out strangled, halfway between an octave too high and a choking sound.

You, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in Azul’s brain, continued casually, “Yeah, it’s from one of those top agencies. They think I have a lot of potential and want to sign me on for this big, high-profile drama. Pretty exciting, huh?”

You were practically grinning like a child who’d just found a shiny new toy, but Azul? He was seconds away from a full-blown existential crisis.

Inside Azul’s mind, things were rapidly spiraling out of control. Top agency? High-profile drama? They want to sign you?! He’d invested so much time, so much effort—no, no, this couldn’t be happening. His precious investment… his precious person… stolen away by another agency?! Ridiculous! Outrageous! It was completely… utterly… breaking him.

Azul’s inner monologue was a flurry of despair and denial. He could almost see it now���some slick, rival manager swooping in with promises of red carpets and glamorous roles, tempting you away with glitzy trailers and five-star restaurants. No, this couldn’t be how it ended. He had to keep you with him!

On the outside, however, Azul forced his face into a tight, polite smile that looked more like a man moments from passing out. “I… see. And you’re… considering this offer?” The words left his lips like venom, though you didn’t catch the sheer level of devastation laced into them.

“Yeah, it seems like a good opportunity,” you replied, shrugging casually. “It might be good for my career, right? I mean, that’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Oh god, Azul thought, his brain short-circuiting as he stared at you. This is it. I’m losing them. They’re going to leave me for some flashy agency, and then—then what? I’ll never see them again!

Azul’s breath came out in small, controlled bursts as he tried to keep himself from visibly panicking. No, calm down, Ashengrotto. You’re a businessman. You can negotiate your way out of this. But a small part of his brain, the part that was definitely not a businessman, was screaming, Please don’t leave me!

“Ah, well… perhaps we should… further discuss your future endeavors?” Azul finally said, his voice tight. He placed his hands on his desk, knuckles white as he forced a smile that looked like it was causing him actual physical pain.

But you, bless your completely oblivious heart, smiled brightly and nodded. “Sure! I mean, I haven’t accepted it yet, so I thought I’d run it by you first.”

Azul nearly choked. Haven’t accepted it yet? His brain did a frantic backflip. Wait—there’s still hope!

His brain quickly switches to damage control mode. He straightened his posture, trying to regain some semblance of his usual composed businessman self. “You… haven’t accepted the offer yet?” he asked, voice carefully neutral.

“Nope,” you replied, reaching for a snack on the table. “I figured I’d talk to you first. You know, weigh my options.” You casually popped a cracker in your mouth, completely unaware that Azul was just about two seconds away from collapsing into a puddle of pure relief.

Azul’s heart soared. Okay, okay, we still have time. I just need to—wait, did they just say they wanted to run it by me? He blinked, his brain spinning in confusion. Why would they…?

He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses in an attempt to regain control of the situation. “I see. I’m… honored that you would consider discussing it with me first.” The relief in his voice was palpable, though he tried his best to maintain his usual air of dignity. “Though… I would like to remind you of the benefits of staying with Mostro Corp. We have always prided ourselves on our… unique approach to talent management.”

He said this with the air of a lawyer arguing a life-or-death case, when in reality, you were just mulling over whether you wanted fancier sushi or Azul’s morally ambiguous but highly effective business tactics.

Meanwhile, Azul’s brain was going a mile a minute. I can’t lose them. I’ve put too much into this. There must be something I can do… His eyes flicked to you, who was munching happily on crackers, completely unaware of the dramatic turmoil unfolding inside his head.

“Well, of course, you know I value everything you’ve done for me,” you said with a smile, patting his hand. “It’s just nice to know that I’ve got other options, you know?”

Options?! Azul’s brain screamed. NO! I AM THE ONLY OPTION! But outwardly, he managed to laugh—albeit a little shakily—and nod. “Yes… options… how delightful…”

You went back to casually munching your snacks, while Azul sat there, mentally spiraling deeper into a pit of doom and gloom, trying to keep a lid on the emotional hurricane swirling inside him.

By the time you finally looked up at him again, his composure had cracked just enough for you to notice the slight tremble in his usually steady hands. “Azul… Are you okay?”

His mind raced, trying to find the words. “I… I just thought that… perhaps you’d prefer to stay with someone who knows you well. Someone who understands your… unique needs.”

You blinked at him. “Wait… Azul, are you jealous?”

Azul sputtered, the words catching in his throat. “I—what? No! Of course not!” His face flushed red, his voice rising in pitch. “Jealousy is for amateurs! I am merely… concerned about your future. As any responsible manager would be!”

“Uh-huh,” you said, a knowing smile spreading across your face. “Right. Of course. Well, just so you know, I haven’t made any decisions yet.”

Azul let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Okay. Okay. We’re still in the game.

“And besides,” you continued, giving him a reassuring smile, “I trust you, Azul. You’ve done more for me than anyone else has. I’m not going anywhere unless it’s something you think is best for me.”

Azul blinked, his brain stalling for a moment. They trust me? They’re not leaving?

The relief that washed over him was almost too much to bear. He slumped back in his chair, feeling as though the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He smiled—a genuine, warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Well then,” he said, his voice softer now, “I suppose we’ll continue as we always have, won’t we?”

You grinned, leaning back in your chair. “Looks like it.”

And for the first time that day, Azul relaxed. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he was already planning how to lock you down even tighter in his company’s grasp… for purely business reasons, of course.

And maybe, just maybe, for something a little more personal.

You were leaning against the wall, sipping on a coffee Azul had bribed Floyd into fetching (after much grumbling and threats about broken kneecaps). Today was a rare break from the constant whirlwind of shoots, and Azul had dragged you along to an event where industry people could network and rub elbows with those who thought they could “make it big.” You were supposed to be schmoozing, but you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care.

From across the room, you watched as a tall, good-looking actor made a beeline for Azul, who was politely chatting with a producer. The actor had that annoying air of confidence, someone who clearly thought they were a big deal, but not quite there yet. They slid right into the conversation, flashing a brilliant smile at Azul, who raised an eyebrow, bemused but ever the businessman. The actor looked at Azul like he was a prize—no, like he was the prize to win.

“Azul Ashengrotto,” the actor began, their tone dripping with charm. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’ve seen how much of a star you've made of your… client.” They gestured toward you, their eyes briefly flicking in your direction before they focused back on Azul. “I’ve been thinking—I could really use someone with your talents managing my career.”

You snorted into your coffee, nearly choking. Seriously? This guy wants Azul to manage them?

After that dumbass who couldn’t read had pulled that stunt, Azul had delegated all the actors he was managing to his employees, and he was now only managing you, which admittedly made you extremely giddy.

You straightened up from your position against the wall, deciding to interrupt before Azul could even entertain the notion of jumping ship.

With a wide grin and zero hesitation, you strode up to them, placing yourself squarely between the actor and Azul. “Yeah, no. Sorry, but Azul’s my exclusive manager.” You gave them a look that could cut glass, making sure the actor understood the weight of your words. “He’s not taking on any new clients.”

The actor blinked, taken aback by your sudden appearance and directness. “Oh, but—”

“No buts,” you interrupted, standing firm. “Azul is mine. I mean, my manager.” You could feel Azul’s gaze burning into the side of your face, but you kept your focus on the actor. “He’s not available to anyone else. Trust me, he’s busy enough keeping up with all my… uh, brilliance.”

Azul, to his credit, didn’t immediately burst out laughing. Instead, he simply pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What they mean to say,” he said smoothly, “is that I’m currently not looking to expand my roster at this time. But I appreciate the interest.”

The actor, visibly flustered, tried to salvage the situation. “I see… I didn’t mean to intrude, I just thought—”

“No hard feelings,” you said, patting their arm in what you hoped was a reassuring gesture. “But I’d suggest finding someone else. Someone… less exclusive.”

The actor gave a forced smile and mumbled something about needing to talk to someone across the room before scampering off. The moment they were out of earshot, you turned back to Azul, who was eyeing you with a raised brow, lips twitching like he was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing.

“Exclusive manager, huh?” he mused, his voice warm with amusement. “I didn’t realize I’d been promoted to such a prestigious title.”

You shrugged, not even slightly embarrassed. “Hey, I’ve got to protect my manager. I can’t have you getting distracted by someone else.”

Azul chuckled softly, but the laughter wasn’t entirely aimed at the situation. No, it was more for how ridiculously flattered he felt by your words. Exclusive, huh? He’d never thought he’d be the sort of person to get all giddy over being someone’s exclusive anything, but there it was. Something about the way you’d swooped in so quickly to claim him—without hesitation—made his heart do a strange little flutter.

Internally, Azul was practically doing cartwheels. You had no idea how hard it was for him to suppress the grin threatening to take over his face. But, ever the composed businessman, he simply adjusted his cufflinks, a faint laugh escaping his lips. “Well, it seems I’m in high demand,” he teased lightly, trying to mask just how pleased he really was.

“You’ve always been in high demand,” you shot back with a grin. “Just lucky for me that I got to you first.”

Azul's laughter this time was soft but genuine. “Indeed. Very lucky.”

But inside, he was absolutely beaming. Not even the prospect of losing a business opportunity could faze him—because honestly, how could anything compare to the feeling of being yours? Even if you didn’t fully realize it yet.

You’d been roped into having dinner with Azul’s family after a business trip to Coral Sea City went surprisingly well. Somehow, what was supposed to be a brief check-in had escalated into a full-blown family dinner at the Ashengrotto household, with Azul, Floyd, and Jade acting as your escorts (read: babysitters).

Azul, as always, had planned to keep things professional. Just a casual dinner. What could go wrong? Except, as it turned out, quite a lot.

The minute you walked in, you were greeted by the smell of delicious food and spices, courtesy of Mrs. Ashengrotto, who practically beamed when she saw you with Azul. “Oh! Azul! You didn’t tell me you were bringing your partner!” she exclaimed, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

You blinked in surprise. “Oh, no, I’m not—"

Before you could even finish, Floyd swooped in, grinning like cat who just caught the canary “Yup, they’re totally dating, Auntie! Azul’s been so secretive, but we finally got him to spill the beans, heh~”

You shot Azul a panicked glance, but his face had already turned a subtle shade of pink. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “That’s… not exactly true, Mother. They’re my client.”

“Client? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Mrs. Ashengrotto asked, giving you both a knowing wink.

You were on the verge of correcting her again, but before you could, Jade, ever the schemer, chimed in. “Oh, it’s quite romantic, really. Azul’s always looking after them, making sure they’re taken care of, both in their career and in life. The dedication he shows is quite admirable.”

“That’s because I’m their manager,” Azul muttered, shooting Jade a glare that clearly said please stop helping.

“Manager? Oh, Azul, don’t be so modest,” Mrs. Ashengrotto said, her voice soft with maternal pride. “It’s wonderful that you’re so dedicated to them.”

Floyd, ever the troublemaker, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Did you know that Azul practically handpicks all of their outfits too? He’s got a real eye for detail.”

Azul looked mortified. “I did not—”

“Isn’t that romantic?” Jade sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Choosing clothes for someone, guiding them through their career, always by their side…”

Azul pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to throttle his eels. “I’m just ensuring they look professional.”

Mrs. Ashengrotto smiled sweetly at the exchange. “That’s so thoughtful of you, Azul. Just like your stepfather—always looking out for the people he cares about.”

You opened your mouth to interject, but before you could get a word in, Azul’s grandmother shuffled in from the next room, her staff clicking against the floor. She was a small, wizened woman with sharp eyes that seemed to peer straight through you.

“Ah,” she said, nodding sagely. “So this is the one who has captured Azul’s heart.”

You felt like you were about to faint. “No, no, no! We’re not—”

“Don’t be shy, dear,” Azul’s grandmother interrupted, giving you a smile that somehow made you feel accepted. “Azul’s always been very particular, but I see why he’s chosen you. Strong-willed, intelligent… It’s a good match.”

Azul’s face was the color of a boiled lobster at this point. “Grandmother, they’re not—"

“Oh, it’s just like a fairy tale,” Floyd sighed dramatically, flinging his arms wide. “The manager and the star, united against the odds! Love blossoming amidst the contracts!”

Jade leaned in, his voice smooth and teasing. “I suppose we’ll have to prepare a speech for the engagement party soon. You wouldn’t want to be caught unprepared, would you, Azul?”

Azul shot Jade a look that could kill. “There will be no engagement because there is nothing to engage.”

You, meanwhile, were torn between laughing and crawling under the table. How had this situation spiraled so completely out of control?

“Ah, young love,” Mrs. Ashengrotto said with a fond sigh. “It’s a beautiful thing. Just like when I met my husband. He was so shy at first too, you know.”

“I am not shy!” Azul protested, but his voice lacked its usual bite. He glanced at you, clearly embarrassed, but you could see the way his lips twitched with a suppressed smile. He was as flustered as you were, even if he was trying not to show it.

You decided to just give up and lean into it. “Well, I guess if everyone’s so sure we’re a couple,” you said, throwing a look at Azul, “then maybe we should start acting like one?”

Azul froze for a second, then gave you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “You’re absolutely not helping.”

Jade chuckled. “Oh, but they are, Azul. They most certainly are.”

Azul sighed, shaking his head, but there was a faint smile on his face. His family continued to dote on you both throughout dinner, exchanging stories about Azul’s childhood and teasing him endlessly about your “relationship.” And while it was all a little overwhelming, you couldn’t help but find it… oddly heartwarming.

At the end of the night, as you and Azul finally managed to escape his family’s clutches, you caught him glancing at you, a rare softness in his eyes.

“You know,” he said quietly, “they’re never going to stop teasing us about this.”

You laughed, bumping his shoulder lightly. “Well, it could be worse. At least they like me.”

Azul smiled, his expression warm despite the chaos of the evening. “That, they do.”

And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea of them being right.

The role was wild from the start: you’d been cast as a “Hay-Witch.” Yes, you heard that right. A Hay-Witch. The small-time movie was hyped as the next indie darling—a quirky, fantasy-adventure flick where your character used the mystical powers of hay to cure ailments, summon the wind, and fend off demons. It was like a strange blend of Hallmark romance and someone’s fever dream. And of course, you had to research this bizarre profession to get into character.

Where do you even begin? Naturally, with a trip to the village of Elderstraw, home to the world’s last remaining Hay-Witch practitioners. Because yes, apparently, that’s a thing.

You were baffled, Azul was intrigued, and the both of you set off to the countryside, where adventure awaited—and perhaps a bit of weirdness, too.

The village itself was charming in a “smells like cows and fresh grass” kind of way. Everyone was far too friendly, as if they hadn’t seen an outsider in years. You couldn’t walk five steps without someone giving you fresh milk, yogurt, or, unsurprisingly, bundles of hay. It was bizarre but kind of sweet.

It all seemed manageable until one of the village elders, a sprightly old woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, mistook you and Azul for a couple.

“Oh! Look at you two, so in love!” she exclaimed, hands clasped dramatically to her chest. “It warms my heart to see young folks so smitten.”

Azul chuckled, clearly amused. You, however, were mid-sip of water and nearly choked on it.

“No, no, we’re just—” you began, waving your hands wildly.

“Deny it all you want,” she said with a wink, “but love speaks louder than words. It’s in your eyes! And don’t you worry—we’ll make sure you enjoy all the festival activities together as a pair.”

“What festival?” you asked weakly.

“The Hay Festival, of course! Only couples can participate,” she said matter-of-factly, grabbing your face and Azul’s, smushing them together. “There’s no need to be shy! We’re not a judging village!”

Azul, the absolute traitor, merely smiled and shrugged. “When in Elderstraw…”

You shot him a withering look, but it was no use. The village had already decided, and there was no backing out.

The day started innocently enough, with the village’s version of “couple activities.” First up was the “Two-Man Hay Bale Haul,” a ridiculous contest where you and your supposed partner had to lift bales of hay and stack them as high as possible. Azul, ever the perfectionist, approached it like it was an Olympic event. Meanwhile, you were doing your best not to trip over the giant, scratchy bales.

“Careful,” Azul teased, as he hoisted yet another bale. “We wouldn’t want to ruin that professional image of yours.”

“I’m already in a village hauling hay for a Hay-Witch movie,” you grumbled. “My professional image is long gone.”

Next up was the “Lovers’ Hay Ride,” where you were forced to sit in a tiny wooden cart filled with—you guessed it—hay, while the local farmhands pulled you through the fields. The villagers serenaded you with what could only be described as country ballads.

Azul, to your horror, looked positively relaxed. You, on the other hand, felt like you were one step away from a sitcom-level breakdown.

“It’s peaceful here,” Azul remarked, gazing out at the rolling fields. “Don’t you think?”

“Peaceful?” you muttered, shoving a piece of hay out of your sleeve. “I’ve got hay everywhere. I think it’s multiplying.”

But it didn’t stop there. The locals had arranged a series of “intimate couple activities” that only got more ridiculous. From attempting to weave “love charms” out of hay (yours looked like a sad clump of straw), to participating in a “Hay-Witch Fortune Telling,” where the village’s oldest resident peered into a bowl of dried hay and made proclamations about your future.

“You’ll marry before the harvest!” the elderly fortune teller cried, her wrinkled face lighting up with joy. “I see it as clear as day! Your love will thrive like our crops in spring!”

You coughed, feeling a bit light-headed from the sheer absurdity of it all. “Uh, thanks? I think?”

Azul snickered, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “You heard her. Before the harvest.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, elbowing him.

But the straw that broke the hay-witch’s back came when the village elders insisted you both join them in the “Festival of Eternal Union”—which was apparently just a fancy way of saying “giant group picnic where all couples feed each other.”

“I’m going to die here,” you muttered as an elder handed you a basket of homemade cheese and bread. “This is how it ends for me.”

Azul, ever the opportunist, merely handed you a slice of bread with a smirk. “Then I’ll make sure it’s a memorable end.”

And somehow, throughout all of it, you found yourself… softening. The ridiculous activities, the constant teasing, the stolen glances and easy banter—it was all so strange, yet it felt right. Maybe it was the quiet charm of the village, or maybe it was just Azul being… well, Azul.

Your heart started doing funny little flips whenever he smiled at you, or when his hand brushed against yours by accident (or, more likely, on purpose). You were used to his confidence, his calculated demeanor, but here, in the middle of nowhere, he seemed softer. More human.

At some point, as you sat under the shade of a giant oak tree, watching the sunset, you realized with a jolt: Oh no. I’m actually falling for him.

You stared at him as he casually offered you a piece of fruit from the basket, completely unaware of the internal crisis you were having.

I’m falling for Azul Ashengrotto. In a tiny village where they think I’m a Hay-Witch. In the middle of a field. Because of hay. How is this my life?

The universe had a twisted sense of humor, clearly.

Azul glanced over at you, noticing your silence. “Something on your mind?”

You blinked rapidly, trying to compose yourself. “Uh, no! Nope. Just thinking about… hay.”

Azul quirked an eyebrow. “Hay?”

“Yeah,” you said lamely. “Lots of it here.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, hand brushing against yours. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Oh god, you thought, your heart thudding in your chest. I’m really doomed.

You're no coward. You've realized your feelings and you're going to do something about it. You're almost certain he likes you back so all you have to do was confess right?

Oh, you sweet summer child. You wish.

The sun had barely crept up over the horizon, but you were already at work, trying once again to get through Azul’s thick, polished skull that you had a crush on him. It had been weeks—no, months—of subtle hints. Casual touches on the arm. Extra compliments on his outfits. Playfully stealing his pens during meetings. Even dropping lines like, “You know, if you weren’t my manager, you’d make a great boyfriend.” Nothing had worked. Not even a flicker of recognition in those brilliant blue eyes of his.

Across the room, Floyd and Jade were quietly dying. Well, Floyd was barely quiet. His cackling echoed through the office more than once, only to be shushed by a very flustered Azul.

You sighed, watching Azul as he flipped through some papers, oblivious to the chaos happening right in front of him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was intentionally ignoring your advances. But no—this was Azul. The guy who was both brilliant and completely clueless when it came to romance. It was like trying to flirt with a brick wall that had an MBA.

“Alright,” Azul muttered, adjusting his glasses. “Here’s the agenda for today’s meeting. We’ll need to go over the contract for your next project and—”

You weren’t even listening. Not really. You were too busy devising your next plan of attack. Jade caught your eye from across the room, smirking knowingly, while Floyd had his face buried in a pillow, trying not to burst into laughter again. They both knew what was coming. They always knew what was coming. This time, you weren’t going to go subtle. No, subtlety had failed you. This time, you were going to drop a bomb so big, Azul wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“Well,” you began, standing up from your chair with a dramatic flair. “Azul, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Azul barely looked up from his paperwork. “Yes? Is it about the new script?”

“No,” you said, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. “It’s about something... much more important.”

“More important than the script?” Azul raised an eyebrow, finally looking up at you. “Are you feeling alright? Should we reschedule the meeting?”

Jade had already covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughter. Floyd had given up any attempt at composure and was sprawled out on the couch, face buried in a pillow, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

“No, no,” you continued, ignoring the fact that your two audience members were on the verge of a breakdown. “I’m perfectly fine. I’ve just... I’ve been trying to tell you something for a while now, and I think it’s time I just come out and say it.���

Azul blinked, looking genuinely concerned now. “If it’s about renegotiating your contract, we can certainly—”

“Oh my god, Azul, stop talking about contracts for five seconds!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “This isn’t about the contract! It’s about you!”

Azul blinked, confusion settling in. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. This was it. The moment of truth. “I like you. Like, really like you. As in, I’m attracted to you. Romantically.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Azul stared at you, processing your words like you’d just spoken in an ancient, dead language. His eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of logical explanation, while Jade’s shoulders shook harder with barely-contained laughter. Floyd was now actively biting his pillow to stop from shrieking in delight.

“...What?” Azul finally said, his voice full of disbelief.

“I. Like. You,” you repeated slowly, enunciating every word. “Like, in a romantic way. You know, feelings. Like affection, Azul. I’m saying I have a crush on you.”

Azul’s face flushed pink, and he shook his head rapidly as if trying to clear the fog. “N-no. That... That’s not possible. You must be mistaken.”

Floyd let out a loud snort of laughter, unable to hold back anymore. “Mistaken? About their OWN feelings?” he echoed, half-laughing, half-gasping for air. “Oh, this is too rich!”

Jade was trying to keep his composure, but he was wiping away tears now. “Azul, I do believe they’ve been quite clear.”

But Azul was undeterred. “No, no,” he said, standing up and pacing, hands flying around as he tried to piece together an explanation. “They’re clearly just being friendly. Maybe it’s a... a professional admiration! Yes, that’s it. A-and, perhaps, they’re simply appreciative of my management skills!”

Really? Right in front of your salad? If mental gymnastics was an actual sport, he would be the Olympic gold medalist without breaking a sweat.

Floyd was full-on howling now, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his sides. “Bro, I can’t breathe—what skills are you even talking about?”

“Azul,” you said with as much patience as you could muster, “I’m telling you that I like you in a romantic way. Like... I would very much like to go on a date with you. As in a romantic date.”

Azul stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. “No,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else. “No, that can’t be right. It’s got to be a misunderstanding. you’ve never shown any romantic interest before. There must be some other explanation.”

“There isn’t,” you said, exasperated. “I’ve been dropping hints for months! I’ve been flirting with you this entire time!”

Azul looked at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?”

You rubbed your temples in frustration. “Do you remember when I complimented your outfit every single day for a week?”

Azul blinked. “I thought you were just being polite.”

“And the time I said I’d love to have a boyfriend as organized as you?”

“I assumed you were just making conversation.”

Floyd rolled off the couch, clutching his stomach and wheezing from laughing so hard. “Boss, you’re killing me!”

Jade patted Azul’s shoulder, his face split into a wide grin. “Azul, perhaps it’s time to accept that they may actually like you.”

Azul stared at you, his brain doing backflips to try and comprehend what was happening. “But... why?”

“Because I like you,” you said with a sigh. “You’re smart, charming, and—despite being utterly oblivious—you’re incredibly caring.”

For a moment, Azul just stood there, mouth agape, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. “But... you’re my client. You can’t possibly like me in that way.”

Jade, at this point, was openly laughing. “Oh, Azul. You truly are one of a kind.”

You sighed again, this time with a fond smile. “You know what? Fine. Don’t believe me. I guess I’ll just have to be even more obvious about it.”

Floyd, still trying to catch his breath, managed to rasp out, “Can’t wait to see how that goes.”

Azul stared between you and his cackling friends, his mind still racing as you simply smiled at him, leaving the final blow for later. But little did he know, you had one more trick up your sleeve—the next time you had an interview, you’d make sure the whole world knew exactly how you felt. That should be obvious enough for even him to understand.

...Hopefully.

The interview was going smoothly—or at least, it was supposed to. You were doing your usual promo rounds for your latest movie, fielding questions with ease, and feeling pretty confident. Azul stood off to the side, clipboard in hand, monitoring everything with his usual meticulous care.

Then, the interviewer hit you with the dreaded question. "So, there's been some talk about your personal life. A lot of fans are dying to know... is there someone special in your life right now?"

You didn’t even hesitate. Flashing a coy smile, you leaned forward in your chair, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You could say that, yeah."

Azul, off to the side, blinked. His eyebrows furrowed, immediately sensing danger. Wait. What? They never mentioned this before... His brain immediately started scanning for any missed signs. Were you seeing someone and hadn’t told him?

The interviewer’s grin widened, clearly excited by the scoop. “Oh, really? Someone special, huh? Do we know them?”

"Well," you mused, pretending to think about it as you twirled the water bottle cap in your hand. “I’d say a lot of people know them. They’re... pretty well-known for being supportive, always looking out for me, and just being an all-around amazing person."

Azul swallowed hard. Supportive? Well-known? He tried to stay calm, but his heart rate was rising. Who the hell could they be talking about?

Jade, meanwhile, had the world's biggest grin on his face. He glanced at Azul, enjoying watching him mentally spiral. This was about to get good.

The interviewer pressed on, eyes practically sparkling. “Sounds like someone really special! Care to drop a hint for us?”

You laughed, a sound that made Azul’s pulse spike for entirely different reasons. “I don’t know if I should,” you teased. “But I guess I could say... they’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

Azul nearly dropped his clipboard. Wait, wait, wait. No way. No, it can’t be… Me? His mind was in chaos. There was no possible way, right?

Azul could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. His thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour. No, they’re definitely just being vague for the media. It’s probably all for the image... right?

Jade leaned over and whispered, loud enough for Azul to hear. “Sounds like they’re talking about someone we know, don’t you think?”

Azul shot him a panicked look. “It’s definitely not me,” he hissed. “They’re just... being friendly. It’s purely platonic. Definitely platonic.”

Jade’s smirk deepened. “If you say so.”

But the more confident you looked, the more Azul found himself spiraling. Your calm, collected attitude was doing something to him, stirring something deeper in his chest that he refused to acknowledge. Why were you so relaxed about this? Were you toying with the media for fun, or... were you serious?

Jade was, by now, thoroughly entertained, watching as Azul’s thoughts clearly spiraled. “Azul,” he said with mock seriousness, “I do believe you might need some water. You’re looking a little pale.”

Azul shot him a glare that could’ve frozen a lake. “I’m fine. They’re just being... vague.”

Jade hummed, unconvinced but highly amused.

But before Azul could continue to stew in his confusion, the interviewer asked the golden question. “So, this person... Is it someone from your current circle? Perhaps a certain... manager?”

Your smile widened. “Oh, absolutely. They’re in my circle. In fact... It is my manager.”

Azul’s heart skipped about six beats. He stared at you in complete shock, the world around him tilting slightly. No...

The interviewer gasped dramatically. “Your manager?! Really?”

"Yep," you replied breezily. "They’ve always been there for me, handling my career, keeping me on track... Honestly, I wouldn’t have come this far without them."

Azul's brain short-circuited. They’re talking about me... Wait, no. Maybe they mean it in a purely professional sense. Yeah. That’s got to be it. This is all just... a misunderstanding.

The interviewer was ecstatic. “That’s so sweet! So, you really admire them, huh?”

You met the interviewer’s gaze, your tone softening slightly. “Yeah... I do. A lot.”

Azul was trying very, very hard not to combust. His hands were shaking slightly, and Jade noticed, elbowing him with a wicked grin. “Still think it’s platonic, Azul?”

“I—” Azul stammered. “They... They must mean it... as a friend. Nothing more.”

Jade chuckled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

The interview finally wrapped up, but the damage was done. You were trying not to laugh as you rejoined Azul and Jade, who were both staring at you with very different expressions. Jade looked like he was about to burst from the sheer amusement of it all, while Azul… Azul looked like he was desperately trying to figure out how to delete your entire existence from the timeline.

“Why did you—?” Azul started, but you just patted his arm, snickering.

“Oh, come on, Azul. Don’t worry so much. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?!” he practically screeched. “You just told the world you have feelings for me!”

“Yeah, and?” You shrugged nonchalantly, finding his distress far too entertaining. “Everyone’s gonna find out sooner or later.”

Azul ran his hands through his hair, clearly nearing a full-blown meltdown. “They’re going to think we’re… we’re together! People are going to start making assumptions! What if it affects your career? What if—”

Jade clapped him on the shoulder. “What if you stop panicking and actually consider that maybe… just maybe… they meant what they said?”

Azul was about to protest again when your phone buzzed. You checked it and burst out laughing. “Oh man, Azul, you’ve gotta see this.”

“NOOOO, THEY’RE IN LOVE???” “Who’s Azul and why haven’t we seen them kiss yet??” “Okay, but like… I can’t even be mad, this guy is hot.” “I’m crying… I thought I had a chance 😭” “Azul? More like A-zuuulooooove 🥲” “Wait, isn’t he their manager? Damn, that’s hot.” “I SHIP IT SO HARD!!!” “Okay but let’s be real, they’re glowing lately, so Azul is probably good for them.” “I demand photos of them with this Azul!!! I need to see if he’s worthy!!” “AZUL IS LUCKY AF.” “I thought I was delusional, but NOPE, IT’S REAL!!!” “Lmfao, this is straight out of a K-drama. Is Azul secretly a billionaire?”

Azul just groaned, covering his face again. “I’m going to die.”

You patted his back with a grin. “Nah, you’ll be fine. Just think about all the fans you’re getting now.”

Jade was chuckling beside him. “Oh, I’m sure he’s enjoying this. Internally, he’s probably quite flattered.”

Azul just muttered something incomprehensible, which you chose to interpret as agreement.

All in all, it was probably the most entertaining interview of your life—though for poor Azul, it might have been the most traumatic.

It was supposed to be a routine day on set—a quick shoot, a few lines, and some light action. Nothing out of the ordinary. But of course, that was the day everything went wrong.

You hadn’t even realized anything was amiss at first. Just a small slip while rehearsing a particularly tricky scene. Sure, you scraped your knee, but it wasn’t exactly life-threatening. You shrugged it off as no big deal.

Except it was a big deal to Azul. Because the moment Floyd let slip that you had taken a “gnarly fall,” Azul exploded onto the set like he was auditioning for a telenovela himself.

The door to your dressing room burst open, and there he stood, eyes wide with horror. “You’ve been injured?!”

Before you could even respond, he was at your side, grabbing your hand and scanning you over with frantic intensity. “Where? Where does it hurt? Are you bleeding? Do we need an ambulance?”

“It’s just a scratch—”

“A scratch?! Scratches can get infected! We need antiseptics, bandages—perhaps we should take you to a hospital just in case!” Azul’s voice climbed higher with every word, his panic spiraling out of control.

Floyd, who was leaning against the doorframe, grinned mischievously. “Oh, it was brutal, boss. They were practically airborne, soaring through the air like a majestic seagull—”

“Floyd!” you interrupted, shooting him a glare. “I slipped, and my foot barely left the ground.”

“Details, details,” Floyd said, waving his hand dismissively. “But Azul’s right, you know. Maybe we should call in a medevac.”

Azul’s hands were now fluttering uselessly around your arms, his normally cool demeanor shattered into a thousand frantic pieces. “You could have a concussion! A torn ligament! Internal bleeding! We should get a full-body scan—what if this jeopardizes your career?”

You sighed, feeling both exasperated and oddly touched by his theatrics. “Azul, it’s a scraped knee. I’ll survive.”

But he wasn’t hearing it. “No, no, no. You don’t understand! This industry is cutthroat! We can’t risk even the slightest injury—what if this compromises your ability to walk in heels for a scene? Or worse, what if—"

Finally, you'd had enough. With one swift motion, you grabbed the lapels of his pristine suit and yanked him down to your level. Then, without hesitation, you pressed your lips to his.

Azul froze like someone had just poured a bucket of ice water over his head. His eyes went wide, his hands hovering in the air for a moment before slowly settling on your arms. You held the kiss for a few seconds, long enough for him to stop his rambling.

When you pulled back, Azul blinked, looking dazed and utterly bewildered. “Wha—what was that for?” he stammered, his cheeks flushed pink.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. “To shut you up. Honestly, you’re being ridiculous. It’s just a scratch, and I’m fine.”

“But—” he began, only to stop short when he noticed the faint smile on your face. Slowly, he let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I… may have overreacted.”

“You think?” you teased, still holding onto his suit.

Azul cleared his throat, straightening his posture, though he couldn’t quite meet your eyes. “Well, I suppose I was a bit... concerned,” he admitted, his voice softer now, more vulnerable.

You raised an eyebrow. “A bit?”

His lips quirked up in a sheepish smile. “Fine, more than a bit.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, Azul still holding you close, his earlier panic replaced by a gentle fondness. “You really scared me,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing against your arm in a rare display of tenderness.

You softened at his words, letting go of his suit and resting your hand on his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

Azul exhaled, the tension finally melting away from his shoulders. “Well,” he said, his usual confidence slowly returning, “I suppose I’ll forgive you. But only if you promise to be more careful.”

You smirked. “I’ll try. But no more medical emergencies, okay?”

Azul gave you a soft smile, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your arm. “Agreed.”

Azul still had a hand resting on your arm when Floyd finally disappeared, but the mood shifted slightly, the weight of the moment sinking in. He glanced at you, and though the frantic energy had dissipated, there was still something lingering in his eyes—a hint of hesitation.

You decided to go for it.

“Azul,” you began, your voice soft yet steady, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

He blinked at you, his brows furrowing in concern. “You’re not seriously injured, are you? I knew we should’ve gotten a doctor—”

“No, Azul, it’s not about that,” you cut him off gently, grabbing his hand again to keep him from spiraling. “It’s… about us.”

That got his attention. His body stiffened, and his eyes widened a fraction. “Us?” he repeated, like he’d never heard the word before.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t want to say anything at first because I thought you were delibrately ignoring my confession. But I think… I’ve fallen for you.”

For a solid three seconds, Azul just stared at you. Not a blink. Not a twitch. It was like his entire brain had momentarily short-circuited. “Fallen for me?” he echoed slowly, like he was trying to translate a foreign language in his head. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I said,” you teased lightly, though your pulse quickened. “What, is it really so hard to believe?”

Azul swallowed hard, his voice still unusually shaky. “I—well—yes, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting a quip or a deflection. “Why’s that?”

Azul suddenly seemed more flustered than when he thought you needed an ambulance. “I just assumed—well, this whole time I thought… I mean, I thought it was more of a… situationship,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower with each word, like he was embarrassed to even say it. “A temporary thing. Surely you couldn’t actually… love me.”

You let out a small laugh, though it was more affectionate than amused. “You’re really selling yourself short, Azul.”

He stared at you like he was still processing the information, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. “But I’m not… I mean, you could have someone better,” he mumbled, suddenly very interested in the floor.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated and endeared all at once. “Oh my god, Azul. You’re smart, funny, successful, and you care more than you let on. Why do you think I’ve stuck around this long?”

Azul’s cheeks were bright red by now, his lips parting slightly in a way that made him look like a fish out of water. “You… love me.” He repeated again, this time softer, almost like he was afraid to say it too loudly in case it turned out to be a joke.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flabbergasted he looked. “Yes, Azul. I love you.”

He let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he was holding, and for a moment, he just stood there, completely silent, his expression one of shock mixed with… something else. Something deeper, like a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.

Then, out of nowhere, his hands tightened on your arms, and before you could react, he pulled you into his chest in a sudden, desperate hug. His grip was so tight you were sure he was never going to let go.

“I-I love you, too,” he said, voice muffled against your hair. “I didn’t know how to say it… I thought you’d want something… less complicated than me.”

You smiled, pressing your face into his chest and letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you. “You’re more than worth the complications, Azul.”

His arms loosened just enough to pull back and look at you, eyes glistening just a little, his expression softer than you’d ever seen. “I can’t believe this,” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “I thought—well, I thought you’d tire of me.”

You wiped away a stray tear that had slipped from his eye, your heart swelling. “I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried.”

For a moment, he looked like he might cry again, but he quickly blinked it away, clearing his throat as he attempted to regain some composure. “You’re sure you’re not concussed? Perhaps this is the result of head trauma…”

You laughed, swatting his shoulder playfully. “I’m sure.”

Azul cracked a smile, though he still looked a bit overwhelmed. “Well… I suppose this changes everything.”

Before you could respond, the door creaked open again, and Floyd poked his head in with a devilish grin. “Sooo, I guess I should cancel that medevac, huh?”

Azul groaned, but this time it was more out of exasperated affection than anything else. “Floyd…”

Floyd snickered, winking at you as he sauntered in. “Aww, look at you two, all lovey-dovey. Makes me wanna puke.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Floyd grinned wider. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. Never know when you might trip and need mouth-to-mouth.”

Azul threw a water bottle at him. “Out!”

Floyd dodged it easily, laughing as he slipped back out the door, leaving the two of you alone again.

Azul sighed, shaking his head, though there was a faint smile on his lips. “He’s never going to let us live this down, is he?”

“Nope, and neither is Jade.” you said, grinning. “But that’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

Azul looked at you, his gaze soft and warm. “Together.”

“So,” you said after a moment, pulling away just enough to look up at him, “now that we’ve got that sorted, how about we go celebrate? Dinner? Something fancy?”

Azul’s eyes gleamed with excitement, the business side of him flickering to life. “I happen to know a very exclusive place. The best seafood in town, I assure you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seafood? After the whole shark tank incident?”

Azul blinked before laughing, realizing the irony. “Alright, maybe something more… neutral.”

And as you glanced at Azul, his hand warm and secure in yours, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the universe had thrown you into this crazy situation for a reason. After all, who else could say their manager turned out to be the love of their life?

Azul Ashengrotto, the shark in a suit, was all yours.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Masterlist

Okay the azul brainrot was real here, it went from 1k to 2k and i then suddenly was committed to a 10k fic Fun fact: The hay witch thing came from a movie idea that my friends and i came up with while being completely wasted.

[vscabarca]

heyy!! how you doing? i hope you're ok!! I saw you had your requests open soo what do you think of gavi x brazilian!reader where she's a friend of natalia (raphinha's wife) and meets him at a team's reunion at raphinha's house where he overheard she talking to the other wags saying she's had a crush on him ever since the world cup but he's so embarrassed and shy about it because gorgeous woman knows he exists and likes him so he panics at that and even his friends try to help (after of course teasing him in all ways imaginable) so they end up locked in a spare room in the house and finally talk and he realizes they actually have a lot in common and asks her out and she kisses him. hope you like it!! goodnight or day love!!

brazilian charm - pablo gavi

summary: Brazilian reader meets Gavi again after a year of not seeing each other at Natalia‘s party. What will happen when they are locked up in a room together?

genre: fluff

a/n: such a cute requesttt!!!! thank you sm!

———

„Natalia!“ You squealed, happy to see your friend after such a long time. It was Natalia‘s, Raphinha‘s wife’s birthday and as you recently moved here, she gladly invited you. Natalia embraced you in a long hug, swaying back and forth with a drink in her hand.

„I‘m so glad you could make it!“ She grinned and finally let you go. „Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!“

„Come on, let’s introduce you to my friends.“ Natalia swiftly grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd of people, saying hello here and there as you walked by. Not far away were Fermin and Pablo, both comfortably sitting on the couch, observing the scene. The two didn’t see you at first, so you made a mental note to go over to them and say hello after you’ve met Natalia‘s girlfriends. Pablo and you already met each other during the World Cup in Qatar. You travelled alongside Raphina‘s wife, watching the games of the Brazilian National Team and came across the Sevillian midfielder. You hit it off quite well after spending some time together.

„I‘ll go and say hello to Pablo, be right back.“ You informed Natalia and her friends, and walked towards the couch. Pablo finally saw you wander towards him and he couldn’t stop but smile.

„You’re staring hermano.“ Fermin said under his breath as he saw how his friend couldn’t take his eyes off you.

„I am not.“ He fired back but they couldn’t continue bickering as you were standing in front of them.

„Hey guys.“ You politely said and gave each of them a hug. You emerged into light conversation, but it was incredibly awkward between you and Pablo. Both didn’t really know what to say so Fermin was the one leading the conversation.

„What are you doing here? Don’t you live in Rio?“

„I did until a few weeks ago, my model agency is now based in Barcelona.“ You explained, getting surprised looks from the guys.

You were about to ask Pablo about his knee, but Natalia came over, claiming she urgently had to speak with you.

As you were gone again, Fermin‘s attention turned back towards his friend.

„Heard that?“ He nudged his shoulder but Pablo was still looking at you from afar.

„What?“

„She lives here in Barcelona now.“ His eyebrows wiggled up and down, trying to gain some reaction from the midfielder.

„Do you think she’s seeing someone? I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if she was, but-„ That wasn’t even what Fermin had asked, but he already could sense Pablo had a thing for the Brazilian girl. He actually found it funny how Pablo was blabbering about her, so he decided to ask someone who surely knew if she was single or not.

Pablo was too slow to stop his friend from grabbing Raphinha‘s arm.

„Do you know if Y/n has a boyfriend?“

Raphina started laughing, shaking his head.

„I don’t think so. Why? does Pablito still have a crush on her since the World Cup?“

Pablo swiftly turned his head, surprised he knew about his attraction towards you.

„It’s a bit obvious.“ Raphina said and patted his head before walking away again.

In the meantime Natalia dragged you back to her friends, giving you a drink and started with the gossip about relationships and what not.

„As someone as gorgeous as you, you must have a lover right?“ Dayana, Vitor Roque‘s wife, asked you.

You shook your head slightly, feeling your cheeks head up. You were about to respond but Natalia was quick in jumping in.

„She still hopes Pablo will magically ask her out, even though Y/n knows he’s even shyer than her!“ Natalia scolded you, earning roars from her friends.

„Pablo? You mean Pablo Gavi?“ Mikkey asked for confirmation, to which you nodded again.

„How cute!“ Dayana chimed in a bit too loud.

What you didn’t realize to that time, Pablo stood not that far away from you, hearing what was said in these last few minutes. He swiftly turned his head towards Fermin and Pedri who joined the two not too long ago. They were both grinning at their younger friend, nudging him several times. But Pablo was terrified. What was he doing now? You were a gorgeous woman having a crush on a guy who was kicking a football around. His friends noticed the panic in his eyes and were quick to help him.

„See? she likes you too, now go and ask her out.“ Pedri spoke and already wanted to push him towards you but he stopped.

„Yeah no.“

„What no? Yes!“ Fermin interrupted and slapped the back of his head.

„Oye! I don’t even know how to ask a girl out, especially not one who’s as pretty as she is.“ Pablo could be so stubborn and shy sometimes, preventing him from doing things he wanted to do, just like now asking the girl out on a date he liked for over a year.

The party went on with you and him exchanging a few more words but neither did something about their little crushes. You then saw Natalia and Fermin whisper something to each other, but you couldn’t tell what they were on about. Natalia then walked over to you, a smug smile plastered across her face.

„Y/n could you grab me some blankets from our guest room? Fermin and his friends wanted to sit outside but it got a bit too cold. I would do it but I need to check on Gael.“ You were already on your feet, giving Pablo a quick smile before disappearing upstairs to grab the things Natalia asked you for.

In the guest bedroom you searched for these bloody blankets but just couldn’t find them anywhere. The door suddenly opened and Pablo stood in the doorway next to you.

„Gosh Pablo you scared me.“ You exclaimed, clutching your chest and let out a huff. He chuckled, wanting to say more but right then the door closed and the lock turned. Both your heads turned towards the door. Confused, Pablo made his way to the door and tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

„These idiots.“ You said with an open mouth, knowing exactly Natalia did that on purpose. Pablo only burst out laughing, throwing his head back.

„That’s why Fermin and Natalia were talking so much together.“ He concluded and sat down onto the bed. You took a seat next to him, leaning back onto your hands.

„Someone has to take away the alcohol they drank.“ You grinned and so did Pablo.

„Anyway, I guess we have to spend the time here until they’ve had enough fun with their plan.“

Pablo plopped down onto the bed and you did the same, turning your head so you were looking at him sideways.

„How have you been after the World Cup? We kinda lost touch.“ You said, feeling your heartbeat increase. He looked beautiful.

„We did.“ his mouth formed into a thin line, probably also not liking how you lost contact after the tournament. „But I‘ve been doing good, except for the knee injury but I‘m feeling much better already. What about you?“

„I‘m doing great, a lot of live changes but I couldn’t be happier here in Barcelona.“ Pablo smiled sweetely and you caught his gaze shifting quickly from your eyes to your lips.

„You look very pretty today, even prettier than I had remembered.“ Your heart fluttered at his words and your mind drifted to the nights you spent sneaking outside the hotel room to meet Pablo to head up to the rooftop and look at the stars.

„You’re very handsome yourself. You’ve always been.“ You complimented back and it seemed like you two scooted closer.

„Now that you’re in Barcelona… is there a chance to take you out on a date?“ You immediately grinned and nodded your head, then leaned in closer.

„May I?“ Pablo whispered, his gaze shifting again from your eyes to your lips. You gave him a quick nod again, your hand already drawing him closer by his neck. The fire in your body intensified as he crashed his lips onto yours, making you sigh contentedly. You never wanted to let him go. Pablo pulled you closer by your waist, kissing you until there was no air left.

As you both broke apart, you broke into little fits of giggles, both still a bit shy from the kiss you just shared.

„Natalia! let us out now!“

[waywardsunlight]

I think Luz's trauma due to being an abuse victim gets ignored a lot in favor of other characters. Luz has an odd role in the fandom as this character who other characters rely on, or who isn't an abuse victim but is supportive of her friends who are, and I think that ends up missing a huge part of her story.

Belos compliments her a lot, which is partially because he wants to reach out to her and mostly because he thinks he can manipulate her. He does some backhanded compliments, telling her she's improved but she still has work to do to catch up to him. He also thanks her quite a few times. The way he thanks her intentionally triggers her guilt, especially when he thanks her for helping him with Hunter. He also compliments her to put other people down, like when he tells her she's "better than this" (implying their race makes them morally superior).

He also uses the same manipulation tactic on Luz that he does on Hunter, although it doesn't work as well on her. He tries to remove his own agency for his physical violence by blaming the Curse. The biggest example is in King's Tide, when he pretends he can't hear her as he's racing after her to try and kill her. He ends up cutting her face while pretending to be out of control and then in the same sequence has full control and clarity to talk to Hunter and the Collector. He gaslights Luz by trying to make it seem like it was The Curse causing him to act in the way he did.

He refers to Luz as "crazy" to invalidate her emotions and harming Hunter in front of her also is a form of abuse. He's obviously aware that hurting Hunter traumatizes Luz (and everyone else) but as his focus transfers from Hunter to Luz in Hollow Mind, he starts targeting her specifically by harming Hunter to hurt her (especially in TTT). Belos shifts the blame for events from himself to Luz and also attempts to make her feel guilty. Hunter seems to understand that Luz is also being abused and tries to reassure her that Belos is an abuser and she shouldn't take what he says at face value. Luz ends up taking that advice to heart after she's able to forgive herself and face Belos. She doesn't speak to him but is able to hear his manipulation tactics and just. stare at him bc he's full of bullshit.

Just because he 'only' hits her a few times and isn't her guardian doesn't mean he can't abuse her or that he didn't. It's not really a protagonist-antagonist relationship as much as it is "adult man nuking 14 year old repeatedly until she becomes god and kills him". The idea that child abuse can only come from parents and not role models or other adults in your life is odd, because he distinctly holds a position of power over her (literally an Emperor and an adult who intentionally isolates her and the other kids alone to abuse them) and uses it to emotionally and physically harm her.

Papa Titan has to reassure her that she's okay to kill Belos because he's literally a serial killer who's lying about his intentions. Luz still slightly falls for Belos's sympathetic line until that moment because he very intentionally tried to get her to feel bad for him and also feel guilt about herself.

This is also why I really detest any fandom takes where Belos canonically is supposed to care about her, or Luz owes him anything. Manipulation is not sympathetic. Belos committed premeditated murder and then used the remains of his murder victim to try to make a "Better Version" of his murder victim which was actually just a way to punish him repeatedly and keep taking out revenge on kids who had nothing to do with the original conflict. Belos is Luz's abuser also, and Luz doesn't owe him any sort of kindness or consideration and her anger is valid.

Luz is an abuse victim of Belos's in addition to Hunter and the Collector (and Vee/Lilith by extension), and she should be considered as such rather than her trauma being invalidated in favor of other characters.

[byunpum]

Experiment 56 [part 2]

Neteyam x Human reader ( like a mix of human and Navi )

and sullyFAM x human reader, why not?

Tw: mmm neteyam baby, reader being mutant, neytiri being a sweetheart-mother, A bit of violence, reference to harassment, A little sad, soft and some Kisses. all the characters are aged up 20's.

POV: Y/N is surprised that it is an indispensable piece for the human race. But for her family…

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

Experiment 56 masterlist | Experiment 56 sequel Masterlist

Note: Omg thank you all for liking the first part, I did not know that all of you would be so interested. Well, well, here I leave the second part, I still don't know how many parts this series has, it all depends on how you react. This part is a little sad, but you will like the ending. From now on I warn you that I am not very expert in this Navi culture, but I did my best. And I'll be using events that happened in the movie, but they won't be exactly the same. And sorry for the spelling. English is not my mother tongue.

"Good morning general ardmore, I request my presence?"." Good morning colonel quaritch, and yes I need you very urgently." Miles took a seat at the table, and gave his full attention to General Ardmore's words. "I have a mission for you, I know you are in search of jake sully, but if I tell you that there is something more precious than the head of a simple soldier who decided to be tarzan?" Miles settled back in his seat," You have to tell me what is more precious?". "Twenty years ago, pandora's team of scientists began a series of experiments. Their goal was to achieve a perfect blend of human and navi. We were tired of transferring our sud quotient into avatar bodies. We wanted to be real. There were many failures, but I understand there was one specimen that survived." Miles was trying to analyze the information, "You're telling me there's a mutant out there? What does he look like?". General Ardmore scales up her touch screen in the air and shows him some models, "She. She's a girl, we estimate her to be in her early 20s. But she is the first of her species. She possesses a human body, but the ability to breathe pandora's air and most importantly her queue."

" A new specie?" miles was a bit in a state of shook, how come he didn't know about this when he still had his human body. "You know so little miles, there are many things that even you and I don't know about. The agency has plans and that girl is the key. She is the center. And the only thing I know, is that when she was a baby she was adopted by sully. "That doesn't surprise me…" a little smirk tugged at Miles' lips." Just find her, bring her back alive. I don't want her to have any bumps. In perfect condition. In addition… you'll find Jake sully. You kill two birds with one shot," said General Ardmore, as she passed him the information on the last location. "Expect nothing less." Miles stood up from his chair, ready to leave home with his group.

And here you are… on the floor. Crying and being held at gunpoint, while your family was also screaming to be released. "ok ok, SHUT UP EVERYONE!!!" shouted miles, as he searched for the beast that had described to him earlier. But their eyes widened, when they saw you. You were beautiful, long hair, beautiful eyes, and your skin was adorned with moles. and yes, just as General Ardmore said, you had the distinguished queue of the navis. Quaritch knelt down in front of you "I had not been told how beautiful you were. Wow…" This was a trigger for neteyam.

Neteyam was right next to you, on the floor. While his head was being pushed to the floor. But when he heard quaritch words, his blood boiled. "Don't you dare touch her!!!!" Neteyam shouted as he tried to attack Quaritch. The man hit him in the head.

"no, please!!! enough!!!!!!!" you scream in fear you don't know what's going on. But you didn't want your family to get hurt. Least of all neteyam. Spider, loak, tuk, kiri and neteyam were tied to a branch. While you were placed in front of them on another branch. "tuk, calm down…. Mother will come for us" says kiri trying to comfort her younger sister. And she was quite right.

Neytiri and Jake had already arrived at the lab area, just a few minutes before you all had run off. Jake knew something was wrong. They entered the forest carefully and that's when Neytiri heard her children's screams. Or not, this was not good. One thing was for sure, you could bother neytiri all you wanted, but don't mess with her kids. She ran off to the spot where she heard the screams, while Jake followed her. When they arrived they hid.

"We have to save them!!!" murmured neytiri to Jake "love, we have to be careful. Let's wait for the exact moment." While neytiri and jake watched the situation from a distance, but the view was not very clear. Quaritch moved a little away from the group of soldiers, so he could call the ship. He needed to get you out of here. At that one of the soldiers began to look at you more than usual.

You were wearing traditional Navi women's clothing. And we all know that these soldiers were not used to seeing women. Neteyam noticed this "stop looking at her you bastard" the man looked at neteyam and approached you. " or what are you going to do?" the soldier started to lift your top "don't you dare…leave me" you were desperate. But this didn't stop him, he took his blade and cut your top, so that your breasts were exposed. Neytiri saw the scene, and if it wasn't for jake grabbing her by the arm and telling her to approach calmly. She would have slit that man's throat. Kiri was screaming, spider is asking her to stop and loak was crying. The scene they were witnessing was horrible. Neteyam is screaming, showing his fangs, pulling so hard on the bindings he had, he was about to dislocate his arm. No one was going to touch you, much less like this.

Quaritch showed up and pushed the soldier to the ground "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!!!" He yells, as you try to roll into a ball. You felt exposed. Neytiri had teached you to take care of yourself and that no one should touch you without your permission. You didn't understand why that man was treating you like that. "Come on Colonel, we can have some fun with this creature…don't tell me you don't see her beautiful." That was the last straw. Jake fired, and neytiri came out of hiding to use his arrow. It was a strong encounter, but when Jake managed to free Neteyam, he ran to you. He cut the bindings, grabbed you off the ground and ran off.

"run and don't look back" order neytiri as she continued fighting the soldiers. You all kept running, jake and neytiri were right behind you. Once you all made it deeper into the forest, it became difficult for the soldiers to keep up. At that moment, the quaritch team's ship arrived. All the soldiers got on, but there was a warning "Sully …. I'm going to find her, you won't be able to hide her for long." The hairs on the back of Jake's neck stood up, as he was hiding with his family. He looked back, and watched as you were hiding in neteyam chest. You had no clothes on, and your arms and legs had been injured. His heart broke into a thousand pieces.

"Let's go home," Neytiri said, as everyone walked in silence and fear. Neteyam was holding you in her arms, tears were coming down from her eyes. Only images of what those men would have done to you if they had captured you were running through his head. Arriving at the refuge, Neytiri took you from Neteyam arms and went to the hut where her mother Mo'at was. Kiri and tuk followed her, everyone was silent. Jake just looked at the boys, his look was one of anger and sadness.

Neytiri healed and took care of you. She saw how tears came out of your eyes. She knew she could not ease the pain you felt. You had been treated like an animal, you were hurt. "I'm so sorry my dear, I'm sorry" says neytiri as she bandages your wounds and strokes your hair. Kiri and tuk are by her side, comforting you. They shared your pain, they saw everything.

Neteyam was outside the mo'at hut, along with spider and loak. "See!!! I told you it was dangerous to be there!!!" said neteyam as he faced his brother. " Hey, I didn't force you guys to follow me, plus I had no idea this was going to happen!!!" loak tried to defend himself, but neteyam is furious. "Of course not, you never know anything. You risk everyone without thinking about the consequences. Look what they did to y/n. They almost…" "that's enough… we know." Spider interrupted neteyam. "guys calm down, I know what happened was horrible. But we're okay now." Neteyam looked back at spider, oh god… the anger in his eyes was horrible "you… don't go near y/n again, I want you away from her." He looks up and looks at his younger brother "and the same goes for you" Neteyam walked out towards the family hut.

Loak was silent at spider's side. Loak knew his brother was rationing his emotions, he knew how special you were to him. He knew he could ignore what he said, since you and Loak were best friends. But what he said to spider was serious. Neteyam liked spider, but he didn't like your relationship with him. Neteyam had a plan to take you as his mate, but once he heard how norm and Jake said that you and spider would make a good couple. And he wasn't sure if his mother would accept this. Neytiri loved you, but as her daughter. How would she react to telling her he loved you.

It was already evening, Jake entered the family hut. He found Neytiri cooking, you were lying on her chest, sitting on her lap. You were small, so Neytiri had no problem doing her chores with you on top of her. You were of adult age, but to Neytiri you were her precious child. Neteyam was at her mother's side helping her. Jake came over and stroked your head, you were asleep. "She's hurt," said Neytiri. "I know, it was something…" jake paused. "we have to get her out of here, her and our family". Neytiri looked at jake in surprise. "no, you're crazy… here is their home. They grew up here, you are toruk makto" neytiri is trying not to scream, but she was getting flustered." But what's the use of being toruk makto, if those bastards want my family "Jake sits next to neytiri. "but jake where will we go?". Jake looked at neteyam, who was still there, right next to his mother." We'll find a place, we'll be fine. If we stick together everything will be fine."

It was already late and everyone was resting. Neteyam got up from his side, and lay down next to the front of you, he is inches away from your face. He loved how small you looked compared to him. Shit she has me under a spell, he said to himself. As he traces circles on your shoulder. Little did they know, this was his favorite time. Where you could be together, if only in silence. You opened your eyes and saw neteyam, he had a small smile plastered on his face, as he came up to kiss you on the lips. Everything was so quiet and with carefulness. They didn't want anyone to get up and see you guys. You laughed a little, you were still in low spirits. But knowing that neteyam was by your side, calmed your heart. "I'm so sorry ma y/n" neteyam spoke, as his fingers played on your waist, down to your leg. "Don't be like that…you were there. You took care of me ma neteyam" you placed your hand on his cheek. Neteyam relaxes and moves closer to you, as his tail wraps around your leg. You felt his breath on your face, they were so close. "someday… someday" said neteyam "yes, someday", you told him as you gave him another kiss on his lips. Someday you will be able to unite before eywa. But still not the time.

In the morning, tuk woke up earlier than the others, she turned to her left side to look for her older brother. Not seeing him, tuk took a seat and saw how his brother was lying right next to yours. Very close, very warm. She giggled a little and picked up Kiri, "What do you want? It's too early" kiri was trying to get up while wiping his eyes. "Look at that!!!" tuk pointed to the romantic scene between you and neteyam. "aha I knew it… spider owes me lunch." Tuk laughed a little and kiri got up to wake up her older brother, she knew this was secret. so they couldn't let their parents get up and see the romantic scene.

"hey get up!!!" kiri said as she moved her brother, neteyam got up startled. "i…this…is not what it looks like. Y/n had" kiri put his hand on his brother's mouth "shhhh your secret is safe with me" kiri said as he laughed a little. "That scares me."

"Hey!!!!" kiri and neteyam started to play, making you stand up. "hey, you two can shut up." Neteyam laid on top of you and gave you a kiss, while kiri made a disgusted face. The moment was interrupted when Jake started to get up. Everyone straightened up and acted natural or so they thought.

"family, everyone upstairs we need to talk." Jake said as everyone settled down. "What I'm going to say is something important and I want you all ready in 10 minutes." Said Jake stretching, knowing that the decision he was about to make was going to change his whole life.

My sweet tag list: @st4rrry @valeriinee @inutheangel @gielrmn @sloppierjewel @purple7theparty @itscheybaby @ssc7514 @namorslit @ducks118 @tpwkstiles @elli-aesthetics @nao-cchi @uselessbutinteresting @msjae @austynparksandpizza @gamorxa

(tag list is open, just let me know *3*)

p.s: Guys, do you mind if the reading is long? If I make it short, I feel I won't explain myself properly. Even in this one I summarized as much as I could. I hope you like it a lot. Soon part 3!!!

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty P.A. Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N has been the personal assistant to the most influential and famous fashion modeling agency director in the industry for the past 13 years.  They’ve decided to retire, and are leaving the agency in the hands of their protege and former model, Bucky Barnes.  He seems plenty qualified, and Y/N is excited for a chance to work with him.  Change always takes time,  but the new insanely hot boss is distrustful and hesitant towards her.  **curvy reader** **Y/N/N = Your nickname ** Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (not from Bucky), some violence, blood, smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

The next few weeks were just as awkward.  Y/N was back to her professional demeanor with Bucky.  Other people in the office could feel the tension, but tried to ignore it as much as she was.  They got the job done, going about their business as usual, but there was always an undercurrent of something uncomfortable between them.

After another strange Friday Y/N left for the day before Bucky.  She had made it all the way out to her car before realizing she had left her keys on her desk.  She groaned and headed back inside the building.  Everyone else had left at that point as she took the elevator up and walked through the office to her desk.  As she approached her desk and reached for her keys she heard a noise coming from Bucky’s office.  She stood still and waited to see what it was.  After a few moments she heard it again.  It sounded like panted breaths, then a moan, then “Y/N.”  

Y/N’s eyes widened as she carefully picked up her keys, trying not to make a sound.  She started to back away slowly, tip-toeing towards the exit, then her heel caught on the trash can by the edge of her desk, falling over and thumping loudly against the floor.  She grimaced then heard Bucky moving quickly.  She turned around and hightailed it out of the office, hoping to leave before he could see her.  Just as she stepped out the door to the main area Bucky ripped open his door.  His shirt was unbuttoned, his pants loose around his waist, and he looked frazzled.  Y/N looked back at him in shock before booking it down the hall.

“Y/N wait!” Bucky called out.  She ran towards the elevator, hitting the button desperately.  Bucky wasn’t far behind her.  “Hey, hold on!”  The elevator was taking too long so she turned to the stairwell and ran towards it.  “Y/N, don’t run from me,” Bucky growled before grabbing her by the arm.  She yelped as he pulled her back against his chest.

“Let me go,” she grunted.  She twisted in his arms, pushing against his chest, her bag falling from her arm and scattering things all over the floor.

“Just wait, hey, listen,” Bucky pleaded as he held her close.  “Y/N!”  Y/N froze, staring up at him.  She could feel something hard poking against her hip and she felt butterflies erupt in the pit of her stomach.  Bucky was breathing heavily, looking at her in shock and embarrassment.  

Y/N squirmed against him.  “It’s okay, Bucky, just let me go.  We can forget about it and move on.”  

“I can’t,” Bucky breathed.  “I don’t regret kissing you.”  Y/N shut her eyes and shook her head.  “I was afraid of what my feelings toward you meant and I freaked out.  But I don’t regret kissing you.  I’ve been wanting to do it again, dreaming about you,” he leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers like he did that day.  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable, then or right now when you caught me, uh…” he huffed out a laugh.  He cupped her face in his hands.  “Please look at me.”  Y/N shook her head.  “Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid,” she said quietly, her hands still slightly pushing against his chest.

“Afraid of what?” he asked, his lips grazing across her forehead.

“Of seeing that look…that want that I feel, looking back at me,” she muttered.  His lips traced down to her nose, then her cheeks, and he kissed the side of her mouth like before.  

“I want you,” Bucky said, his lips so close to hers.  “All I want is you, babes.”

Y/N felt herself melting against him.  Her mind and her heart were fighting against each other in a battle of wills, knowing either way she would lose.  She opened her eyes finally and looked up at him.  Sure enough, as she looked into those beautiful eyes, she saw the want, the desire, the desperation that she felt.  Her hands stopped pushing against his chest and instead fisted into his shirt.  A soft whine passed her lips as she gazed at him, and his mouth dropped open further at the sound.  He’s your boss.  He’s your boss.  He’s your boss…

“Fuck it,” Y/N grumbled then pushed up on her tip toes and kissed him.  Bucky’s lips immediately molded to hers, a low groan reverberating in his throat.  She held him tight against her as his hands moved down from her face to her lower back, pulling her body flush against his.  He walked her backwards until she was pushed against the wall nearest them.  His thigh nestled in between her legs as he kissed her hungrily, opening his mouth to taste her lips.  She quickly opened her mouth, tasting him back with her tongue and moaning against his mouth.  Bucky broke away and started kissing down her neck, softly licking and sucking at her skin and then nipping at her earlobe.  

“So fucking hot, babes,” Bucky murmured in her ear.  “Walking around like you own the place…with this ass…”  His hands traveled down to her butt, squeezing her cheeks firmly.  Y/N whimpered, her hands slipping into his long hair, tugging at his locks.  She nuzzled his neck before licking and sucking at his throat.  “Fuck…you’re so good…”  

He hooked her leg up and over his hip, making the slit in her skirt hike up her leg, exposing her thigh to him.  He kneaded the flesh of her thigh as his hips started to grind against her.  “Bucky…” Y/N whined.

“Holy shit, yes, say my name again.  Just like that again,” Bucky groaned, staring down at her as his hips rutted into her.

“Buck…please,” Y/N begged.  

Bucky’s eyes rolled back before he shook his head.  “We…we can’t do this here,” he said, coming back to himself.  He stopped moving, resting his head on her shoulder as he composed himself, trying to breathe normally again.  Y/N fingers were still in his hair, trying to calm her thundering heart.  “Will you come home with me?” he asked hesitantly, looking up at her.  

Y/N smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.  “Yes.  I need to go home and grab some things, first, though.”

Bucky smiled, kissing her nose back.  “Okay.  I…” he looked down at the ground seeing the mess he’d made.  “Oh, shit I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away from her and kneeling down to pick up her scattered belongings.  

“It’s okay,” Y/N laughed.  She knelt down and helped pick up a few things, throwing them into her purse that he gave to her.  They both stood and she gave him another smile.  “I’ll see you in like, an hour?”

“Yes,” Bucky agreed, nodded enthusiastically.  He stepped toward her and lifted his hand to her cheek, caressing her face.  He leaned down and kissed her deeply before pulling away.  “See you soon.”  

Y/N had never moved so fast in her life.  She was surprised she hadn’t been pulled over with how fast she had been driving home.  She ran through her small apartment, throwing things in an overnight bag that she would need.  She stripped out of her work clothes and into a night teddie that she saved for special occasions, putting on a long, oversized cardigan over it.  She fixed her hair and makeup in the mirror, grinning at his text: Can’t wait babes.  

Y/N slipped her shoes on and got back in her car, driving too fast again.  She pulled up to his luxury apartment building, took the elevator up to his apartment on the top floor, bouncing on her feet, the desire mounting inside her again in anticipation as she pulled her cardigan tighter around her.  She was also nervous, unsure of just what he had in store for her.  The elevator ding ripped her out of her spiraling thoughts and the doors opened to reveal Bucky standing in front of her.  

He was shirtless, sweatpants hung low on his hips, barefoot, and a dark look in his eyes.  He smirked as she ogled him.  “Took you long enough,” he said.  

Y/N stepped out of the elevator and dropped her bag, gazing up at him.  “And yet here you are, waiting for me,” she smirked back at him.  

“Here I am,” Bucky murmured, his eyes watching her playfully.  Y/N hummed at him before releasing the grip she had on her cardigan.  It slowly swung open, revealing the teddie she had on underneath.  Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in desire at getting to see more of her body than he ever had before.  “Fuck babes,” he breathed, his voice coming out more hoarse as he reached a hand forward and his fingers gently traced the lace on her stomach.  “What are you doing to me?”

“Hopefully whatever I want,” Y/N said, her voice getting deeper and more sultry.  Her fingers slowly ran up his stomach to his chest, her nails tickling his skin and making him subtly flinch.  

Bucky suddenly dipped down and grabbed her, pulling her against him and kissing her hard.  Y/N made a noise of surprise that quickly morphed into a moan as he opened his mouth to taste her.  The desire flowing through her made her jittery and she shivered as he gripped her tighter.  He started walking her backwards towards another area of his apartment.  After some bumping into walls and kicking off shoes the backs of her knees hit the side of a bed.  Bucky pulled off her cardigan and laid her down on the bed, his lips barely leaving her for more than a few seconds.  

He broke the kiss and helped push her upwards onto the bed until she could comfortably rest her legs on the edge, then kneeled at the edge of the bed, hoisting her legs over his shoulders.  Y/N wasn’t wearing any other underwear and he groaned at the sight of her naked pussy in his face.  “Been dreaming about this for so long,” Bucky said, kissing her thighs and nipping at the crease between her leg and her pussy, making her yelp.  “Ever since I kissed you I’ve been wanting, craving more.”  He suddenly licked a broad stripe with his tongue up her slit and she squirmed, a loud gasp escaping her mouth.  Bucky dove into her, kissing, licking and sucking at her lower lips.  Y/N’s legs trembled and he massaged her thick thighs soothingly.

After a particularly hard suck on her clit Y/N whined.  “Bucky please,” she begged.  Her fingers knotted into his hair, trying to guide his head to stay on her clit.  “Don’t tease me.”

“I got you,” Bucky said, then she felt his fingers start to prod at her entrance.  He had worked her up so he slid his pointer finger into her easily, thrusting it in and out while randomly flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue.  Y/N’s hips jerked every time he did, and he smiled into her.  He slid his middle finger in next, pumping them in and out for a while before curling them inside her.  His fingers picked up speed and he started flicking her clit faster and continuously, not letting up as she bucked her hips against his face.  

“Oh fuck!  Shit…Buck I…AH!” Y/N writhed as her orgasm came crashing through her.  Her legs shook as a loud groan spilled from her mouth.  Bucky hummed into her pussy, prolonging the pulses of pleasure rippling through her.  He licked up the gush that came from her and then pulled away, gently removing his fingers from her pussy.  He stood and crawled over her, kissing her deeply before putting his wet fingers to her lips.

“You taste so good, babes,” Bucky whispered as Y/N lazily sucked at his fingers, moaning at the taste of herself.  He gave her a minute to recover from the aftershocks of her orgasm.  She suddenly lifted herself up and pushed him onto his back.  She sat on her feet next to him and took the teddie off, watching him ogle her naked body.  Then she licked her hand and took hold of his stiff cock.  Bucky’s head fell back.  She didn’t move, just held it and leaned forward looking at him.

“What were you thinking of when you were jerking off earlier?”  Y/N asked sweetly, her hand squeezing his cock lightly.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath.  “You,” he answered desperately.

“Me?” Y/N pumped him once then stopped again.  “What about me?”

His hips trembled as he looked down at her holding him.  “Y/N please…”

She let go of him and pulled her hand away, tucking it in between her legs to play with her clit.  “What about me?” she asked again, her eyes hooded as she rubbed at herself.

“Fuck, I…” Bucky squirmed as he watched her.  “You were…you were sucking my dick,” he panted.

“Hm?”  Y/N reached for his cock again and pumped him a few more times, rewarding him for answering her.  Bucky’s eyes rolled as she let him feel good.  “Then what?”

“Then you were riding me…shit,” his hips jerked into her hand when she rolled her wrist.

“I don’t like to be on top,” Y/N chastised him, rubbing the head of his cock.  Bucky’s hands were fisting the blanket beneath him.

“I’ll do whatever you want, babes.  I’ll give it to you however you want…please,” Bucky begged.  His brow was furrowed, the crease in between his eyebrows deeper than she’d ever seen before, a small frown on his lips as his hips bucked up into her hand, desperately chasing the pleasure she was giving him.  She could even see his eyes starting to look wet, like he could cry at any moment if she didn’t let him cum.  He looked utterly debauched, and she loved it.

Y/N leaned forward and licked his nipple as her hand sped up on him.  Bucky moaned loudly, then it quickly turned into a cry as she let go of his cock.  He looked at her incredulously as she pulled away.  “Can you be a good boy and fuck me hard from behind?” she asked, making it sound like the most simple thing in the world.

“Hell yes,” Bucky groaned.  He seemed to move at light speed as he sat up, kissed her deeply, then moved behind her.  Y/N got on her hands and knees, arching her back as she dropped to her elbows.  His hands held her hips, massaging her love handles and her ass before giving it a small smack then rubbing it soothingly.  Y/N wiggled her hips at him and she felt the head of his cock push against her slit.  He gripped his cock and slid it through her lower lips, a sputtered breath coming from him.  “You ready, babes?”

“Yes,” Y/N breathed.  Bucky silently started pushing himself into her.  As she stretched around him she gasped, then whimpered into the blanket as he fully seated himself inside.

“Oh my god,” Bucky whispered.  He let out a long stream of air, like he’d been holding it the entire time he pushed into her.  “So tight…you feel better than I ever could have imagined.”  He pulled back slowly, then snapped his hips back into her.  

Y/N shrieked as he filled her, her hips shaking at how good it felt.  “Fuck me, Bucky,” she groaned.  “I can take it.”

Bucky huffed a laugh and smacked her ass again, making her shiver.  “My dirty little P.A.,” he muttered, then did as she asked.  His hips thrust into her hard, and she braced herself as he fucked her into the mattress.  

Bucky seemed to lose himself as he fucked her, laying across her back, his fingers gripping her hips so hard she knew she’d have bruises in the morning.  He kissed between her shoulder blades and she shivered again.  Y/N’s moans were sounding more like squeals and whimpers as he thrust into her.  She had never felt so full, so wet, so dirty and yet so whole all at the same time.  Her mind was still not fully wrapping around the fact that this Adonis of a man wanted her, too, and was as affected by her as she was by him.  

She could feel her orgasm fast approaching again and her whimpers became grunts as he hit that deep spot inside her repeatedly.  Bucky’s hand suddenly wrapped around her neck and over her throat and hoisted her up off her hands to lean back against him.  His hips thrust upwards into her, hitting even deeper and she groaned.  “That’s it,” Bucky said around gritted teeth.  “My pretty P.A., dirty little thing.  Likin’ it hard and deep.”  Y/N blindly nodded, her hands reaching up and playing with her breasts as he kept his one hand around her throat and the other traveled down to in between her legs.  “So fucking sexy, making yourself feel good like that.  Making me beg for it.  You like being the boss, huh?”  His fingers rubbed over her clit.

“YES!” Y/N squealed, her body jerking against him.  She was so close, just needed a little bit more.

“Always so good to me, taking care of me, knowing just what I need.  You know what I need now, babes?”  Bucky bit into her shoulder, his hand squeezing her throat a little tighter, making her wheeze.  

“Cum…to cum inside me,” Y/N answered breathily, her hands leaving her breasts and gripping his wrists.  

“Yes, can I?” he asked, his breaths fanning the back of her neck as he nuzzled into her hair.  “Please, babes, let me fill you up.”

“Do it,” Y/N said more firmly.  “I wanna be…mmh, wanna be leaking you for days.”

“Holy fuck!” Bucky cried and he flicked her clit faster.  Y/N stiffened as the coil deep inside her gut finally snapped and she came hard with a scream.  As her body shook her pussy clamped down around him and Bucky shouted as he came, filling her up just like she wanted.  He emptied himself into her, his hips rutting up repeatedly to make sure she got it all.  Her hands went limp and let go of his wrists as her eyes rolled and her head lolled back against his shoulder.  Bucky carefully laid her back down on her front, laying across her back again as he waited until her pussy stopped pulsing around him.  

When it did he slowly pulled out with a groan that deepened when he saw his cum start to spill out from her pussy.  “Godammit that’s hot,” he breathed.  He was almost instantly hard again upon seeing that and he spread her legs wider apart, gripping his cock and rubbing it along her slit again.  He slowly started pushing back into her, watching their combined cum oozing out of her and onto his cock.  Y/N whimpered into the blanket again, her head thrashing against the mattress.  “Got me hard again already, babes.  Gonna fuck you dumb, til you can’t walk, keep you here with me for as long as I can,” he mumbled.  

Y/N melted at his words.  “Good boy.”

@calwitch

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 31: Taking a Turn

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

After he left the hospital, Cillian tried to call Danielle but, as he had expected, she did not pick up the phone.

Following three attempts to reach her, he gave up and made contact with the bank in an attempt to figure out the make and model of the car that she had bought. After a lengthy exchange with an employee, he found out the name of the agency through which Danielle had purchased the car and after ringing them, he got the details he was hoping for. 

His heart sank as the make and model matched those of the car that had been following you and whilst he realized that Danielle was upset and hurt, he had never considered her to be a woman who could kill.

"Do you need any more assistance, sir?" the employee asked.

"No, that will be all. Thank you," Cillian muttered, cutting the call as a barrage of thoughts consumed his mind, conjuring a whirlwind of uncertainties, fears and danger.

He sat there, in his car, the engine humming in the background, and stared blankly out the windshield, contemplating his next move.

He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but the evidence stacked against Danielle was enough to incriminate her.

He took a deep breath, unsure of what to do, conscious of the risk he was about to take.

Cillian pulled out his phone and dialed the first number that came to his mind. It was the phone number of his divorce lawyer, Ari, and whilst Cillian knew that Ari did not handle criminal cases, he was certain that he could provide him with some much-needed guidance.  After all, the situation he found himself in was as far from normal as it could be.

He couldn't believe that the woman he had once loved and admired had stooped so low and he knew that he had to tread carefully now. 

"Cillian," Ari's voice echoed through the speaker as he picked up the phone. "What can I do for you?"

Cillian took a deep breath, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions and concerns that were sure to follow. "Ari, I need your help," he began, his voice low and tense.

"Alright, tell me what's going on," Ari replied calmly, his tone level and measured and Cillian hesitated, unsure of where to begin, knowing that the revelations he was about to make would change everything. 

"It's Danielle," he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. "I think she has been following Y/N and I have reason to believe that she intentionally hit her before driving off," he continued, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Cillian could imagine the surprise and confusion on Ari's face.

"Y/N?" Ari asked, trying to recall your name. "She is the women you have been seeing, correct?" he then asked, still processing the information that Cillian had presented to him.

"Yes, that's her," Cillian confirmed. "She was hit by a car and is in hospital now with significant injuries, man. She could have died," Cillian told his lawyer with a shaky voice who sighed deeply before responding. 

"And you think that Danielle caused the accident, intentionally?" Ari asked, his voice laced with disbelief, though Cillian could hear the skepticism in his tone.

"That is a very serious accusation. Have you spoken to her about it?" he continued.

Cillian sighed, running a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray, his composure crumbling. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls or messages," he admitted, kicking himself for not having done anything about his ex-wife's obsessive behavior sooner. "The car that hit Y/N is the same make and model she recently purchased  for our son," he added, anxiety tinging his voice.

"I see," Ari replied, his tone now more guarded. "Cillian, I understand that you're upset, but accusing someone of attempted murder is a very serious matter. Do you have any other evidence to support your suspicions?" he asked, seeking clarity.

Cillian sighed, frustration building up in his chest. "Apart from a series of threatening messages towards me, no, I don't. But I have a feeling that this is not a coincidence," Cillian replied, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

Ari sighed, taking in the information. "Okay, I hear what you're saying, Cillian. But we can't just go to the police with a hunch," he said, trying to reason with his client.

Cillian nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "You're right. I just...need to know that she's not going to hurt Y/N again," Cillian finished, his voice laced with desperation.

"She doesn't have a separate bank account yet and I can probably get copies of the statements for her credit card to see if it has been used in the past few weeks. If she did it, she would have had to be in London," Ari suggested, trying to help Cillian to figure things out. 

"If we can prove that she has been in London then maybe it is enough for the police to question her, but again, Cillian, I must insist that you tread carefully. It would be terrible for everyone involved if this turns out to be a misunderstanding and it would most certainly impact your divorce proceedings against her," Ari warned, concern coloring his voice.

Cillian nodded, understanding the weight of the consequences. "I understand," he told Ari who then told him that he would be calling him back in about an hour or so, after looking through the bank statements.

Cillian agreed and after hanging up, he didn't move an inch. He just sat there, his thoughts and emotions at war, his mind racing with a thousand scenarios, each more terrifying than the one before. 

As the minutes passed, the surroundings began to fade away until there was nothing left but the deafening pounding of his heart. It echoed painfully throughout his entire body, a painful reminder of his fears.

Eventually, he drew a shaky breath and forced himself back to reality.

Cillian cast a glance over his shoulder and out the window. The bustling streets of the city were a welcome distraction from the turmoil that raged within. The sun was beginning to set, brilliant hues of orange and pink painted the sky and cast long shadows over the buildings. He watched as people hurried to and from, pursuing their daily lives until, suddenly, the phone rang again. It was Ari.

"Cillian, I've got some news," his voice was serious, the tone of his voice reason enough to set Cillian's heart racing.

"Danielle has been taking frequent trips to London over the last month but she wasn't there on the day of the accident. She used her card in Dublin that day," Ari informed Cillian, his voice grave.

Cillian's heart sank as he took in the news. He was so sure that Danielle was the culprit and the fact that someone else could have hit you  made him feel slightly relieved and, at the same time, frustrated. He needed answers, and fast.

"There is something else I found though ," Ari continued, snapping Cillian back to attention. "There was a transaction on your account ending 0865 this morning for 189 pounds. It was a charge from CemClean, a car detailing business in Chelsea,"  Ari informed Cillian, the significance of the information not lost on him.

Cillian frowned, puzzled by the revelation. "I didn't go to Chelsea today," he wondered aloud, his thoughts racing as he tried to piece together the puzzle which is when, suddenly, he remembered that he had given his card to Max who wanted to catch a taxi back home from the hospital when he had left. 

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[unnaturalequilibrium]

Capítulo 12

- Mafin rewatch (Sueños de Libertad)

Here we go. It’s the photographer. I don’t know if I’m ready for this yet, I haven’t even found the seatbelt yet, but we’re already taking off.

Marta wanting something modern, but knowing very well not to try to be too transgressive. A quiet kind of revolution that sneaks up on you is to be preferred. She wants a campaign ad that plays on a woman’s own agency though. I don’t know how to tell her, but that’s still a pretty hot topic no matter how much traditionalism you try to steep it in. I approve though. Sisters doing it for themselves, so to speak.

Hihi, her shocked eyebrows when he notices the perfume she’s wearing.

Oh honey. You clueless little inexperienced puppy. I can’t unsee my own perspective or hindsight, but I wonder to what extent we were supposed to believe that something might happen between her and the photographer. I assume most straights did, but even for them - I mean that opening credit. 

Either way, Marta being a clever business woman and a closeted feminist is nice. Smart and smart. Hits my spot.

Fina mocking Claudia as the lavender triplets are having coffee together is cute. She also catches on to Carmen’s sadness and ask if it’s in relation to Voldemort. Carmen reveals she’s not able to tell if she should do the right thing with Tasio or follow her heart. Fina deadpans and tells her the heart is a treacherous mistress. She is the lesbian friend every straight and bisexual woman needs.

The photographer is a bit creepy though. It’s not cool going around photographing women without their knowledge or consent. Especially not when you have a moustache, that just makes it twelve times as creepy. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.

Carmen covering Tasio’s gambling ass. You hate to see it.

Marta for the first time on this show getting truly excited about something. Excited about her idea of selling their latest perfume through a more relatable woman than your standard model. The joy she expresses when the photographer comes back with a whole portfolio full of pictures of the shop girls is fucking pure. This isn’t just an ice queen, this is a woman trying really fucking hard to make a difference in her own way. She has a vision and I honestly don’t think it’s only about the cashflow. I do think she wants a different world for herself and for other women too.

This scene also hits with one of those lines that are pretty fundamental to her as a character, even though she likes what he’s done, she tells him she won’t make a decision “hot”. She needs to let the emotions land and turn it all over in peace. This is Marta at her core. Everything about her as an emotional being can be narrowed down into this. She did the exact same thing with Petra. She gathered the data, went away, made a case for herself and then returned with a plan of action. If you want Marta’s cheat code, then it’s this behaviour. Pretty much everything else about her will fall into place when you understand this. And the best way of breaking her is to force a reaction out of her before she’s had a chance to digest in silence.

Yeah, even if we ever were meant to think something was about to happen with the photographer they also made sure to be pretty fucking unsubtle about the real direction they were taking this story in.

[sagesskies]

just played Binary Star Hero, loved it, amazing, chefs kiss, Hals can take my heart and soul. Love them sooo much.

And an idea just struck me: Awkward Yandere Hero who is also your ex, meanwhile you're the guy who manages his tech.

The guys running the agency wanted him to be presented as the perfect, ideal man, and in this heteronormative world, the ideal man was straight, so they had him start dating another superhero. You got that, you could handle that, but what pissed you off was that he couldn't at least fight for your relationship when the higher-ups wanted him breaking up with you.

so you take the initiative, and don't let him keep beating around the bush, and break things off first. Good riddance honestly, what need do you have of a man who wasn't even willing to fight for you?

You keep working for the same agency, managing their tech, fixing it up after any errors, making sure everything runs in tip, top shape. But you refuse to do anything for him, no. They can get somebody else to do that.

everytime you two speak, it's always tense. him, the 'strong' 'virile' and 'masculine' hero practically cowering before you, the glorified tech support.

"Uh, h-hey [Name]!"

"... Helios."

"How... how are you?"

"I'm fine. What do you want?"

"Uh. To talk?"

"... Leave."

"I just want to chat-"

"Now."

"Okay. Goodbye. Take care. Love you- I mean, uhhhh, t-take care- Wait shit I already said that- Uh. Uh. Bye!"

Your colleagues tell you to pity him more, he had no choice you know? The agency paid his bills, they gave him a job, they were the reason why he wasn't taken to the government testing labs and made a labrat like all the other non-hero superpowered humans. So he was in no position to say no to their demands.

So were you supposed to pity him? To constantly let him do whatever he wanted? Let him miss all the dates, the dinners, to focus more on work than your relationship? Were you supposed to pity him when he didn't bother to explain himself when pictures were released of him going into a hotel room with some model? To let it slide without a single explanation?

You have too much respect for yourself.

When you try to hit the dating scene again, to be able to fully solidify that you are truly moving on from your ex... but for some reason, said ex always ruins everything?!

every single place you take your dates, it's suddenly infested with your ex's fanclub as hundreds of people all clamor around, disrupting others as they all try to at least look at the famed hero Helios who was reported to have been sighted, just your luck, in your general area!

and not to mention, what happens when he decides to approach you in public, while your on a date, and the other guy just so happens to be a big fan of his and all of a sudden you're just tossed aside as your date gets his fucking forehead signed by your ex.

and still, still, he has the audacity to try to strike up a conversation with you.

"Hey, [Name]!" Helios- No, Hollis, greets you cheerfully.

You don't bother to respond, focusing on fixing the dents in Liquid Steel's metal suit. Slamming the hammer down on the outward dents, grunting when you accidentally move the dent inward and use the dolly to fix it.

Hollis, hesitantly, comes closer to you. Despite the fact that you were holding a hammer, he wasn't afraid. You know that he's sturdy and durable, more than other supers, but he is still flesh and bone. If you caught him off guard...

"So, uh, since the other mechanics are a bit busy... I was wondering, could you-"

"I won't, Helios," You glare at him, "Just wait for one of them to come back or something."

Hollis chuckles awkwardly, "Ah, well, I'll actually be needing it fixed soon," His eyes wander around your workspace, before going back to focus on you, eyes a brilliant gold, "I'm... gonna be sent on a mission."

You recall when he'd miss your anniversary dinner, and told you he had to be called out for an emergency extraction. He was fidgeting the entire time, hand rubbing at his neck where you saw lipstick stains that he was doing a shit job at hiding.

Looking at him now, you can tell he's lying the same way he was back then. But for different reasons now.

"No." You say with finality.

"But-"

You drop your hammer, and grab him by the collar of his shirt. Pulling him closer till your foreheads were pressed against each other. His eyes widen, and he gulps.

"I said no," You snarled, spit flying against his face, "Why can't you fucking get that into your thick skull, hm?"

Your hands grasp tighter onto the fabric of his shirt, nearly tearing it off, "You've been a right fucking creep, yknow?" You give him a cruel, crooked grin, "I know what you're doing- You've been fucking stalking me, haven't you?"

"[Name], I-"

Maybe it's the stress from work, the breakup, the failed dates, Hollis himself, his mere presence being enough to tip you over the edge. Whatever it is, you snap.

"Shut up!" You scream at Hollis, "I hate you- I hate you so, so, so much!"

More than you hated Hollis, you hated the situation. It's more than just sabotaging your love life, and always bothering you with his awkward small talk, you wished he started trying before you ended it. You wished it didn't take you leaving for him to beg for you to come back.

You feel like the gear that you're in charge of fixing. Some heroes take care of theirs like it's their baby, always careful, but never getting enough work done because of it. Some are able to tolerate it getting damaged, and do their duty. But some? Some are willing to let it suffer intense damage, nearly become irreparable, all for the sake of their job.

Hollis is like that, you think. He let your relationship decay, rot, and fester, till it became nothing more than a shell of what it used to be. But you were too tired to fix it. Why bother anyway? You were old news, software that needed to be updated. So like any person with common sense, Hollis got an update.

Your face grows warm, you think it is from the shame for your outburst, before you realize it is also wet, and that you are actually crying. You don't want to, but you slump against his chest, and bury your face into the warmth of his shirt.

You beat weakly at his chests, "I hate you... I hate you Hollis." You sob.

Hollis shifts, you think he's about to pry you off, but then you sense a familiar presence over your back, and then a hesitant, but comforting hand is rubbing soothing circles into your back.

"It's... It's okay [Name]," His voice is shaky, and you think he's crying too, "No matter how much you hate me, I'll always love you."

[lividstar]

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎THE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Four: A Pleasant Twist

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 5k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ What started as a plan for a quiet walk in the park quickly turned eventful when you bumped into Madame Dupont, who was heading out for groceries. Choosing to assist her instead, two occurrences you didn’t see coming saw the light of the day: A. Running into Seonghwa, and B. Receiving an offer from Madame Dupont to help with your upcoming casting.

a/n: did you guys see san’s fit for the dolce & gabbana fashion show... it had me weak he straight up looked like he came from a dystopian hunger games type beat magical fantasy gods and goddesses 100k wc fic like that’s choi san from district ATE

tags: @beabatiny

The atmosphere in Hongjoong’s office was a mix of modern chic and creative chaos. The walls, adorned with framed sketches and mood boards, exuded an air of inspiration and meticulous planning. The sleek glass desk was cluttered with fabric swatches, design drafts, and a laptop perpetually open to design software. Large windows let in natural light, illuminating the room and casting a soft glow on the polished wooden floors. Shelves lined with fashion magazines featuring either his designs or Hongjoong himself, awards in varying categories, and an array of art supplies hinted at the relentless creativity that filled the space.

Hongjoong sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed in concentration as he reviewed the latest designs. Seonghwa stood across from him, tablet in hand, listing off upcoming tasks.

“We’re still months away from the fashion week, but it feels dangerously close,” Seonghwa noted, swiping through the digital calendar. “You’re still without your sketchbook, so we need backup designs just in case.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’s been making use of Seonghwa’s digital tablet to work on new designs, but it just doesn’t hit the same as sketching on the rough surface of a paper. Well, Seonghwa has been trying to convince him he only feels that way because drawing digitally is an entirely foreign experience to him, but he swears it’s more than that. You wouldn’t get it, is what he’d usually say. “I know. I’m working on new designs, but it’s hard to compensate for everything I had in that sketchbook. There’s so much detail and inspiration in those lost pages.”

“Well… maybe we should schedule extra brainstorming sessions with the team. It might help to get more input," Seonghwa suggested, his tone pragmatic. There’s only so much a single personal assistant could do, especially regarding important matters they’re short of time on, after all.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, tapping a pen against his desk thoughtfully. “Seems like a good plan. We can set up a few sessions next week. Also, I want to review the progress of our new recruits. We need fresh faces ready for the casting call.”

“Oh, speaking of recruits, have you thought about expanding our outreach programs?” Seonghwa continued, making notes on his tablet. “More workshops and seminars could attract new talent to the agency. It’s also a good way to give back to the community.”

“Yes, definitely. And I also want to collaborate with more local designers,” Hongjoong agreed, his voice gaining a note of enthusiasm. There were still a lot of things to sort out, but at least they’re no longer heading forward empty-handed, right? “It’s important to foster community connections and bring in diverse perspectives. We could host a local designer showcase leading up to the fashion week.”

Seonghwa nodded. “That sounds perfect. We should also consider revamping our social media strategy. More behind-the-scenes content, live Q&A sessions, stuff that really engages our audience. 90% of people spend more than half the average day on their phone, anyway, so it would be a good idea to improve our marketing strategies online.”

“Right,” Hongjoong replied, leaning forward and straightening his posture. “I’ve noticed our engagement has been a bit stagnant. Let’s brainstorm some fresh content ideas and maybe even a mini-documentary series about our design process.”

As they were continuing to talk endlessly about gaps they needed to fill in order to ensure the brand’s utmost and consistent success, a thought suddenly resurfaced in Seonghwa’s mind. “Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday, but she said yes.”

Hongjoong looked puzzled, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Since when did you have a significant other?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes dramatically, not being able to distinguish whether A. Hongjoong was just trying to push his buttons, or B. His brain development had reversed throughout the night and thus, is now being outright dumb. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. “No, you stupid goon. I’m referring to the girl from Rue de la Paix.”

“Oh, alright. Wait—she said yes?” Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise.

At that exact moment, Wooyoung entered the room with a dramatic flair. “Whoa, who said yes? Didn’t know you had it in you, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung teased. Just then, an empty folder came flying his way, nearly hitting him right at his face if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s for accomplishing the mission of being even more stupid than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa deadpanned, shrugging. “What are you doing here anyway, Wooyoung? I thought you had no activities scheduled for today.”

Wooyoung grinned and flopped onto the couch, stretching out comfortably. “Yeah, but Hongjoong’s office couch is comfortable and I’m experiencing back pain. Needed a place to relax.”

“And who told you you could just do that?”

“...My free will?”

Seonghwa glanced at Hongjoong, who didn’t even need to hear the words come out of his mouth. “No surprises at all. He does this all the time.”

Suddenly, Hongjoong always putting in his best efforts when it comes to avoiding Wooyoung during his work hours was now starting to make sense to Seonghwa. “No wonder you’re so sick of him,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I can hear both of you very well, you know?” Wooyoung quipped, scrolling through his phone without looking up. “Actually, nevermind. Knowing you two, you’re probably doing that on purpose.”

“Nice theory. Whatever,” Seonghwa dismissed, turning back to Hongjoong. “Anyway, what I meant by her saying yes is that she agreed to attend the casting. She didn’t say it directly, but she called me in the middle of the night to ask for further details. Plus, she replied to my message about wishing her luck and hoping she wouldn’t back out. So, I think it’s safe to assume she’s going to attend.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened with a mix of relief and curiosity. “That’s great news. I’m really curious to see what she brings to the table.”

“Who’ll bring what to the table?” Wooyoung interjected, finally looking up from his phone with genuine interest. “You both seem pretty invested in this person.”

Seonghwa leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “A girl from Rue de la Paix that I scouted pretty recently. I believe she has great potential.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. If you’re both that excited, she must be something special,” he mused to himself before looking back down on his phone screen.

Hongjoong hummed in agreement before turning his attention back to the topic at hand. He adjusted the sleeves of his tailored blazer and leaned forward, glancing at the tablet Seonghwa held. “So, about the upcoming projects, I think we should focus more on integrating sustainable fabrics,” Hongjoong said, his tone serious and thoughtful. “It’s not just a trend; it’s a necessity for the future of fashion.”

Seonghwa nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “Got it. We should reach out to more suppliers who specialize in eco-friendly materials. I’ll set up meetings with potential partners next week.”

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with inspiration. The endless days of working he always had to go through were indeed tiring, but the creative process throughout it all and everything that came out of it were always worth the progressively lessening hours of sleep on his behalf. “And for the designs, I want to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern aesthetics. Something that tells a story of heritage while being innovative.”

“That’s a great direction,” Seonghwa agreed, looking up from his notes. “We could also highlight these stories in our marketing campaigns. You know, show our audience the journey behind each piece.”

Before Hongjoong could respond, Wooyoung let out a dramatic groan from the couch, rolling his eyes. “Man, hearing you two talk about work stuff when I’m supposed to be taking a break from all that is so annoying.”

Hongjoong shot him a bemused look. “Well, maybe if you wanted to take a break from your ‘work stuff,’ you should’ve considered staying home instead of lounging in a work office where work-related matters are supposed to be discussed.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes again, sitting up slightly. “Come on, can’t we set things aside and talk about casual stuff for once? It’s been a while since I last got to be in the same space as both of you, and you’re settling on talking about work?”

For a moment, both Seonghwa and Hongjoong processed his words. Then, Seonghwa was the first to chuckle, shaking his head. “Well, that’s a rather unique way to say that you miss hanging out with us.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Wait, huh? That’s what he meant?”

Wooyoung shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Well, you can’t blame me when the past few months have been nothing but busy schedules, busy schedules, and even more busy schedules for us. I chose to work under you two because I know we promised we’d stay together after college, but even being in the same workspace isn’t helping us have more time to spend together.”

Hongjoong sighed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What’s up with you and being so sentimental?” Quite hypocritical, as he’s been having the same thoughts as Wooyoung lately as well. The only difference between them is that Wooyoung is comfortable with expressing it, but Hongjoong? Well, not really.

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong and gave a knowing smile. “Don’t lie, Hongjoong. You know you feel the same way as Wooyoung does.”

Hongjoong exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. Seonghwa could always see right through him regardless of if he wanted him to or not, and sometimes, he doesn’t know if he should appreciate it or be terrified. “Alright, fine. I do miss hanging out like we used to. Things have just been so hectic, especially with all the activities scheduled for the following weeks and months.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to Wooyoung. “Well, seems like you’re right, then. Since you want to talk about ‘casual stuff,’ why not initiate the conversation for us?”

Wooyoung’s eyes brightened. He knew Hongjoong and Seonghwa find him annoying sometimes—well, more often than that, actually—but he never really took it seriously, because he was aware that deep down, they both have a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, for the two older men, Wooyoung has a knack for using that fact to his advantage. “Alright, let’s see... How about we take a stroll around the city later tonight? Just to take our minds off all the stress.”

Seonghwa nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That sounds like a good idea. I actually recommended Hongjoong do the exact same thing all by himself a few days ago, but I figure tagging along with him wouldn’t be so bad.”

Wooyoung beamed. “See, I knew you’d catch my drift.”

Hongjoong was a bit dismissive at first, reminding Seonghwa, “You do know the only person out of the three of us who doesn’t have anything to do today is Wooyoung, right?”

Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly. “So? I could keep lounging in here until your work hours end.”

Seonghwa chuckled, knowing Wooyoung all too well. He wasn’t one to get bored easily, no, not at all, but in a place such as, like what Hongjoong said, a work office wherein work-related matters are supposed to be discussed, it wouldn’t take longer than a second to tire his energy out. “Are you sure you won’t get bored?"

“No, totally not,” Wooyoung insisted. “I’ve even already experienced staying the night in this office without Hongjoong here, and I didn’t get bored at all. It was, like, super cool. You know those cool rich businessmen in movies who spend the night looking outside the window of their office walls on a chair with a bottle of an alcoholic beverage in hand?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, you did what?”

Wooyoung’s, however, darted nervously around the office. “Oh. I mean—”

You sat in your small, dimly lit apartment, staring at the blank walls and feeling the embrace of loneliness attach itself to you. The evening stretched ahead with no plans, no friends to meet, and no familiar faces to call. Seonghwa had been kind, but you barely knew him, and calling him a friend felt a little too early. Financial prudence also demanded caution; with the casting still a few days away and no guarantee of immediate income, you couldn’t afford to be reckless with how much you spend.

Maybe a walk outside could be nice?

You sighed and looked at the closet doors, debating whether it was worth the effort. The allure of fresh air and a change of scenery tugged at you, while the fear of venturing out into an unfamiliar city at night held you back. You thought about the headache from yesterday—how intense and strange it had been. It wasn’t a normal headache, and it lingered in your mind. Perhaps a stroll through the nearby park would help clear your thoughts.

With your decision now entirely made, you rose from your bed and headed to your closet. You chose a soft beige knit sweater, its cozy warmth comforting against the evening chill. Pairing it with a long, black skirt that reached down to your ankles and shoes of the same color as your sweater, you completed the outfit with a light scarf draped casually around your neck. You began fixing your appearance up, and once you were satisfied, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment.

As you reached the ground floor, you spotted Madame Dupont at the entrance, preparing to leave. “Madame Dupont?” you called out, quickening your pace to catch up with her.

She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Ah, bonsoir! How are you, dear?” she asked, her voice warm and welcoming.

“I’m well, thank you,” you replied, offering her a smile. “Where are you off to?” Your eyes darted to the streets outside.

“I’m just heading to the grocery store,” she said, adjusting the strap of her handbag. “What about you? Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of taking a walk,” you said, glancing towards the door once more. “But if you don't mind, I could accompany you instead.”

Madame Dupont’s face brightened even more. “Oh, that would be lovely! Are you sure you don’t mind?”

A walk to the park may have been your initial plan, but you still weren’t entirely sure the calm atmosphere of the evening would suffice to outweigh both the thoughts inside your head and your worries about possible dangers. “Not at all,” you assured her. “I’d be happy to help.”

The two of you then began to walk together to the bus stop, engaging in light conversation. “How was your day?” you asked as you waited for the bus to arrive.

Madame Dupont smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was quite eventful, actually. This morning, I had to chase Monsieur Frank’s cat out of my garden again. That rascal has a knack for digging up my flowers!”

You laughed softly, imagining the scene. Monsieur Frank’s féline, Pompidou, was indeed a little ball full of mischief. You’ve had your own set of encounters with him, such as waking up to hearing light scratches by your door—which once happened in the middle of the night and nearly made you consider moving back to Arcadia Bay, having him come out of nowhere and pounce on your shoes when you’re walking out the door, and more. You don’t know why his owner decided to name him Pompidou, but you figured it suits his personality very well. “That sounds like quite the adventure. He’s adorable, but has always been quite of a pain to deal with. Did you manage to catch him?”

“Eventually,” she chuckled. “But not before he managed to scatter soil all over my freshly planted tulips. And then, later in the afternoon, I had a lovely visit from my granddaughter. She’s starting university soon, you know. Full of excitement and nerves, that one.”

You smiled, listening intently. Oh, what would you give to experience starting university for the first time again—with nothing but excitement and nerves, just like Madame Dupont’s granddaughter and nothing like yourself. “Really? That’s wonderful. What’s she going to study?”

“Art history,” Madame Dupont replied, pride evident in her voice. “She’s always had a passion for it. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d spend hours drawing and painting. I’m glad she’s pursuing something she loves.”

The bus arrived, and you both boarded, continuing your conversation during the short ride. Madame Dupont shared stories about her granddaughter’s childhood, her love for art, and her hopes for the future. You listened intently, feeling a warm sense of connection growing between you.

When you arrived at the grocery store, you offered to push the cart, an offer Madame Dupont gratefully accepted. Throughout your journey of navigating through the aisles, you reached for items on the higher shelves that she couldn’t reach, earning appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks from her.

As you placed a jar of jam into the cart, Madame Dupont continued her stories. “You know, dear, I remember when my granddaughter was just four, she painted the most beautiful landscape. We framed it and it still hangs in our living room. Whenever I look at it, it reminds me of her spirit and creativity.”

“That sounds lovely,” you said, smiling at the thought. You wonder if you had moments in your childhood that were similar to hers. But then again, how would you know? “It must be wonderful to have such a talented family member.”

“I can only imagine that is exactly how your family thinks of you,” Madame Dupont mused, turning to you with a heartfelt smile. Confused, all you could do was let out an awkward chuckle. “What do you mean, Madame Dupont?” you asked, unsure what she was implying.

“You’ve only been here for quite a short while, but let me tell you, dear, it’s easy for me to be able to tell you have a genuine soul. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I really appreciate it—having one of my tenants accompany me to the grocery store isn’t exactly a common occurrence.” She chuckled, placing her hand on top of yours that remained sat on the cart and rubbed her thumb on the back of it shortly before letting go.

“It’s nothing, Madame Dupont,” you attempted to counter, but she wouldn’t relent. She shook her head in response, finding it amusing how you seem to be struggling to allow yourself to accept her kind words. “Well, whatever you say,” was all she settled with before turning her attention back to her grocery shopping list.

While you and Madame Dupont continued to shop together, she suddenly stopped and turned to you. “Would you mind waiting here for a moment, dear? I need to use the bathroom.”

“Of course, take your time,” you replied with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” she said, patting your arm gently before heading towards the restroom. You positioned the grocery cart in a corner to avoid blocking the aisle, then leaned against it and pulled out your phone. Scrolling through social media, you let yourself get absorbed in the digital world. Minutes passed, the hum of the store fading into the background, when you heard a voice that seemed oddly familiar coming from the other end of the aisle.

Curiosity piqued, you turned off your phone and tucked it back into your bag. Leaning forward, you peeked around the corner to see Seonghwa, reaching for an item on the shelf.

“Seonghwa?” you called out, stepping into the aisle.

His head snapped in your direction, and upon recognizing you, he broke into a warm smile. “Hey! What a surprise to see you again so soon,” he said, his voice laced with genuine delight as he pushed his cart towards you. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, gesturing to the half-full cart beside you. “Just accompanying my landlord with purchasing her groceries.”

“Oh, do you live around here?” Seonghwa tilted his head, half his hair softly falling down to the side he turned to.

“No, my apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” you explained. “What about you, though? What are you doing here?” you asked, this time gesturing to his cart.

“Oh, me?” He pointed to himself, smiling. “My friends and I were planning to spend a few hours at the park, and we figured we could stop by here for a moment to grab some snacks we could eat.”

“What a coincidence. I was thinking of going to the park, too,” you mused, sharing your initial plans for the night.

Seonghwa’s face then lit up. “Really? Why don’t you come and tag along with us? They both work at the agency that’s hosting the casting you’ll be attending, too. It would be nice if you could get to know them beforehand.”

You hesitated, glancing back towards the restroom where Madame Dupont had disappeared. “That sounds lovely, but I promised my landlord I’d help her with the shopping. Maybe another time?”

He nodded, understanding and not pressing the matter. “Sure, another time it is then. So, speaking of, how’s everything going with the casting preparations?”

“It’s been…” quite a challenge, was what you wanted to say. After all, there was some truth to it. Yet still, you didn’t want to show any signs of wavering. “It’s been going well. I’ll definitely be there.”

“Great! I really think you could be our turning point,” he said enthusiastically, his eyes earnest and full of hope.

You laughed, trying to lighten the mood and ease the pressure. “No pressure, right? Or else I might not show up.”

He grinned, playing along. “Okay, okay, no pressure.”

Just then, a voice called out his name from another part of the store. Seonghwa groaned, rubbing his temple with a resigned smile. “That’s my cue. This is why we can’t go anywhere together without causing a scene.”

You chuckled, amused by his predicament. “Having friends like that must be fun.” You wouldn’t know anything about it for sure, but the thought seemed nice. Maybe in the future, you’d also get to experience having your name be shouted in a public grocery store by a close friend of yours. Or, who knows? You could be the one shouting.

“Fun, yes. Embarrassing, absolutely,” he said, rolling his eyes but with a fond smile. “I’d better go. See you at the casting?”

“Definitely. See you,” you said, waving as he walked away. Almost immediately after Seonghwa left, Madame Dupont returned, looking refreshed. “Who was that young man you were talking to?” she asked, seemingly intrigued.

“Oh, just… an acquaintance,” you replied, still feeling quite hesitant over considering Seonghwa as a friend. Hopefully, one day, you’ll feel more comfortable referring to him with such a term. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Madame Dupont nodded, smiling warmly. “Alright, dear. Let’s continue, shall we?”

The two of you resumed your shopping, chatting and laughing as you navigated the aisles. You reached for items on the higher shelves, and Madame Dupont shared more stories about her family. Her anecdotes were heartwarming, filled with fond memories and lively descriptions. As you listened, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging. These simple moments, like helping her shop and hearing her stories, were making you feel more at home in this new city.

Seonghwa pushed his grocery cart around the store, his eyes scanning the aisles as he searched for Hongjoong and Wooyoung. He maneuvered through various sections, weaving past other shoppers and glancing down every row. Finally, after a few minutes of searching, he spotted them and couldn’t help but pause, taken aback by the sight.

Wooyoung was perched inside an empty shopping cart, looking quite pleased with himself, while Hongjoong pushed it with a resigned, tired expression on his face.

“Should’ve known you were only referring to yourself when you said you wanted ‘us’ to have fun,” Hongjoong deadpanned, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he sighed heavily.

Wooyoung scoffed, playfully swatting at Hongjoong’s hand that gripped the handle of the cart. “Pushing a shopping cart can be fun too! You just don’t know how to do it right. Now push faster!”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but chuckle, his amusement evident as he approached them. “Should I be surprised?”

“Yes!” Wooyoung replied instantly, grinning.

“No,” Hongjoong said at the same time, his tone flat.

“What took you so long, anyway? You said you were just going to grab a few snacks before we head to the counter,” Hongjoong asked, his movements with the cart becoming more mindless as he pushed and pulled it back and forth.

“That I was, but I came across her,” Seonghwa said with a shrug. He figured there was no need to specify who he was talking about, as Hongjoong’s eyes widened in recognition.

“The girl from Rue de la Paix?” Hongjoong inquired, just to make sure.

From his seat in the cart, Wooyoung interjected. “For how much longer are you gonna refer to her as the girl from Rue de la Paix? Aren’t you planning on, like, getting her name or something, at least?”

“Not when Seonghwa keeps forgetting to do that,” Hongjoong answered, gesturing toward Seonghwa, who now sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I overheard you saying you got a call from her recently. You have her number, right? You could just ask for her name through a text message. Not unless you want to keep referring to her using such a long nickname,” Wooyoung suggested, shrugging.

Seonghwa nodded, considering the idea. “Yeah, I’ll think about that.”

Hongjoong shifted the conversation back. “So, what was she doing here?”

“She was helping her landlord with grocery shopping,” was what Seonghwa responded.

“Does she live around here?” Hongjoong asked, his curiosity piqued and his hands no longer pushing the cart he held back and forth.

“No, she said her apartment is a quick bus ride from here,” Seonghwa explained. “She was just being helpful.”

Wooyoung, still in the cart, dramatically sighed. “Ah, the noble deeds of the common folk.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Wooyoung’s head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous but lovable,” Wooyoung retorted, grinning widely. “Come on, admit it. You missed having me around.”

Hongjoong groaned. “No, I didn’t,” yes, he did.

Seonghwa chuckled, joining in. “Alright, enough of this. Let’s finish up and get going. Wooyoung, get out of the cart before we get kicked out of here.”

Wooyoung pouted but complied, hopping out of the cart with exaggerated movements. “Fine, but only because I’m hungry.”

After what felt like nearly half an hour of waiting by the side of the streets, a bus finally came into view, and thankfully, nearly all of its seats were vacant. You took the bag of groceries from Madame Dupont’s grasp, motioning for her to get in first. Once you both settled on one of the seats by the middle, you let out a sigh of relief as you leaned your head on the window. Today didn’t go exactly as you planned, but the point of unwinding and getting a breath of fresh air was accomplished anyway, wasn’t it?

“So, about the young man from the grocery store,” Madame Dupont started, making you sit up straight and turn your head to her. “How do you two know each other?”

You then purse your lips in excitement over finally getting to tell Madame Dupont about the casting. “Remember when I asked you for directions to Rue de la Paix for my job search?” you asked, waiting for a nod of confirmation first. Once you received it, you continued speaking. “That’s where I met him. His name is Seonghwa, and he works under an agency of fashion and modeling.”

“That sounds interesting,” Madame Dupont mused, almost to herself. “How did you two meet each other?”

“I wouldn’t say meet,” you said sheepishly, remembering how Seonghwa was quite literally running in full speed towards you. “But he’s seen me before, and said he wanted to approach me back then but couldn’t. The reason he wanted to approach me was, well…”

“Well?” Madame Dupont tilted her head, intrigued. “Don’t leave me hanging, dear,” she joked, making you laugh.

“I may or may not have been casted to become a model.”

There were a few seconds of silence between both of you, and you figured it’s safe to assume Madame Dupont wasn’t speaking because she was trying to process your words. Suddenly, you’re caught by surprise when a wide smile spreads across her face as she gently grabs a hand of yours using both of hers and shakes it in excitement.

“That’s wonderful, dear! Especially since you’ve been doing nothing but search for jobs the moment you stepped foot here,” she beamed, and for a moment, you nearly believed she was more excited for the opportunity than you were. “I’m a hundred percent certain you’ll do very well and get accepted.”

“I wish I could say the same thing, Madame.” You chuckled. “I’m still really nervous, and the casting’s happening on Friday this week.”

“Friday?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and all you could do was nod. “Well, that is very close, indeed. Have you been going through preparations?”

“I have,” you said, smiling. “It still doesn’t feel real to me, though.” You didn’t want to blame yourself for feeling like this, as for a person who’s always been accustomed to staying behind the shadows, suddenly stepping into a career where the main point is to let yourself be seen is indeed a terrifying experience.

“That’s normal. It’s a huge shift, after all,” her voice took on a soft tone, attempting to ease your nerves. “Do you have anything to wear for the casting yet?”

“Oh, about that…” you trailed off, your mind going back in time to recall the photos you took of the designs from the sketchbook. “There’s a few designs I want to base my attire on, but I haven’t gone off on a kickstart about it yet. Preparations have been mostly about my confidence and less about my appearance.”

Madame Dupont smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Is that so? Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could help you with that, dear,” she offered.

You felt a bit hesitant. “I’d appreciate that, Madame Dupont. But I don’t wanna take up too much of your time and bother you.”

She waved your concerns off. “Oh, dear, you’ll never be a bother to me. You helped me out today, and I think it’s only right for me to return the favor.”

“Alright, but, how?” You tilted your head, confused about where she was heading to.

Madame Dupont let out a hum, eyes darting all around the bus as she pondered over what to say before fully turning her gaze back to you. “Do you know why I never get bored even when I rarely go outside unless it’s necessary?”

You shook your head. “No, why?”

“Sewing, knitting, and crocheting are some of the things that keep me company,” she explained. Seeing your puzzled expression, she added, “And I’m bringing that up because I was thinking I can return the favor by sewing your outfit for you.”

You hesitated. “Oh, but... I don’t want to turn your hobby into an obligation.” Sure, it seemed like it would be of a huge amount of help to you, but was it really right to accept it?

Seeing your hesitance, she insisted, “I would love to help you. Besides, it’s no trouble at all.” Just as you were about to politely decline, the bus stopped in front of your apartment, and Madame Dupont used it as an opportunity to wave off any further protests. “You have no other choice but to accept my help,” she said firmly.

Eventually, you gave up, letting her have her way. “Alright, Madame Dupont.” You took the groceries and let her get off the bus first, following soon after. As you both walked towards the apartment, you turned to her, “Would you like me to help with unpacking your groceries?”

“No, dear, you’ve done enough for me today,” she said kindly. “You should go get some rest—but not before you send me the image of the attire you want to use as inspiration.”

Nodding, you promised to send the photos once you got back to your apartment. “Thank you so much, Madame Dupont.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” she replied with a warm smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we’ll come up with.”

Back in your apartment, you lay down on your bed, the events of the day replaying in your mind. You took out your phone and scrolled back and forth through the pictures of the designs from the sketchbook, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. Each design had its own charm, but one particular outfit kept catching your eye. It was the off-shoulder dress with delicate lace detailing that had given you a headache the first time you saw it, but now that you were more... used to the sight of it, it seemed perfect. After some deliberation, you decided that this was the one. You sent the image to Madame Dupont’s contact number with a short message.

This is the one I’d like to use as inspiration. Thank you so much for your help!

As you put your phone down, you muttered to yourself, “Now that that’s out of the way, I should probably go clean up before I head to bed.” You stood up, stretching your arms above your head, and made your way to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower helped to wash away the fatigue of the day, and as you stood under the stream, you felt a sense of relief and anticipation for what was to come.

Meanwhile, at the park, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung were seated in one of the grassy areas, enjoying the peaceful evening. The sun had returned to its peaceful slumber long ago, and the park was illuminated by soft, ambient lights, creating a serene atmosphere. “So, any updates on your missing sketchbook?” Wooyoung asked, before popping a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

Hongjoong’s expression darkened, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled. “The universe might as well tell me to quit my career at this point.”

Seonghwa shook his head, refusing to encourage Hongjoong’s behavior. “Oh, come on, don’t be such a pessimist. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his frustration evident. “Seonghwa, take a moment to reflect on the circumstances we’re currently under. How can I not be pessimistic? My entire collection for the autumn fashion week is in that sketchbook, along with years of work.”

Seonghwa nodded, understanding Hongjoong’s point but still trying to lift his spirits. “I get what you’re feeling, but moping around won’t do anything. We need to stay proactive.”

Wooyoung, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “Why’s the sketchbook so important to you anyway? I mean, yeah, that’s a stupid question since it, like you said, has all the designs you’ve made since college and the sketches for the autumn fashion week, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not the only reason. What’s the real deal?”

Hongjoong’s eyes flickered with an emotion he quickly masked. “You’re thinking way too deeply into it,” he deflected, looking away.

Wooyoung shrugged, sensing Hongjoong’s reluctance to delve deeper. “Well, whatever.”

🪞 — lividstar.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

how does Bruce's lady feel about his public persona and how he is with her? ?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Warnings: Jealous Reader; implied sexytimes; angst; fluff

“Have you seen this?” 

Before you can ask what she’s talking about, Michelle is tossing the latest copy of the Gotham Inquirer on the table in front of you. You hiss as it nearly knocks over your cup of coffee. 

“Jeez, Mish,” You mutter, taking up your napkin and swiping a couple of stray drops. You glance at the magazine, assuming that she’s showing you some new diet fad, or an article on the season’s upcoming fashion trends. What you do see holds your attention in the worst way, and makes your stomach swoop low. 

Prince of Gotham Spotted On the Town with Liz Wyatt 

You’d say that there was nothing to make of it, but the full-cover photo makes it seem unmistakable: Bruce’s hand resting dangerously low on the supermodel’s lower back as he gazes over their shoulders at paparazzi; there’s a smug little curl to his lip, that seems to say, Of course I'm with her.

You clear your throat, shoving the magazine away and turning your nervous face toward the coffee, swiping your napkin at the table again, as though you’ve spotted new splashes of coffee. 

"You don’t wanna read it?” Michelle asks. When you don’t answer, she scoffs, taking up the magazine. You can hear her flipping through it before she clears her throat. 

“Oh, Mish, don’t,” You begin to plead, but she begins to read before you can get any further: 

“Bruce Wayne’s latest conquest is no less than the model that’s trying to add the super back to supermodel. Liz Wyatt rocketed into popularity after her runway premiere at Milan last year. It’s said that the GC Modelling Agency is trying to lure her to the city—and it seems that Bruce Wayne is waging his own campaign for her move. According to sources close to them, the pair have been loved-up for nearly four months. We’re keeping an eye on this budding power couple.” 

Your face is hot with embarrassment; your stomach is churning so roughly that you’re certain you’ll be sick. You swipe your napkin across the table again before you reach out, taking up your cup of coffee and taking a deep pull. It burns your tongue and the inside of your cheeks, but you hold it, just to have an excuse not to speak. Michelle sighs softly, dropping the magazine back down in front of you. 

“You don’t know him, hon,” She says softly. “He’s nice and all, but just…Keep your guard up. Okay?” 

You don’t answer. You just swallow thickly as Michelle pats your shoulder, rounding the table and leaving the kitchen, the coffee splashing down like a stone in your stomach. You push out a harsh, short breath through your lips as you fight the urge to scan the article yourself. You want to get a better look at his face; you want to get a better look at her—at the expanse of tanned skin exposed by the back of her daringly low cut dress, and the neat coif of her blonde hair swept into a low bun. You also want to take up the magazine, tear the article out and set it on fire. You do neither, but you’re so tempted to do both. You just sit at the table and stare.

--  

You can’t spend your whole day off looking at the magazine. In fact, you don’t. You’re in the middle of doing a load of laundry and washing the dishes when you hear the doorbell buzzer. You absently walk over to the intercom, hitting the buzzer to open the front door. It’s probably just a delivery person, anyway. You walk back to the sink, dubiously eyeing the magazine where it still sits on the table before turning the tap back on. 

Your mind has been alternating between thinking of Bruce, and forcing yourself to think of something else for most of the day—prep for the incoming cold snap, for example. You need extra batteries, a power bank in case your phone dies—and some nonperishable food. But it’s been so hard not to think about Bruce—to hear Michelle’s voice pointedly pronouncing Liz Wyatt. It has you getting your tasks done at half-speed. 

You’re in the midst of washing a bowl when you hear a knock at the door. You frown, turning to look at the door. You wait a moment. Maybe whoever it is has the wrong address? But when there’s another knock, you groan, shutting the faucet back off and drying your hands. You half-jog to the door, peering through the peephole, and—Oh. No. 

You can’t pretend you’re not in. He got buzzed up. Michelle would at least open the door and tell him you’re not in—and you can’t imitate her voice for the life of you. Damnit. You wince as he knocks again, the sound pounding right into your chest. You draw in a voice to steady yourself before you reach down, opening the door and slapping a smile on. 

“Hi there,” You greet. “Hey.” Bruce pushes off of the doorframe, ducking in and pecking your lips. You go stiff and flinch just a touch at the feeling. You step out of the way of him, shutting the door. 

“What’re you doing here?” You ask, turning and heading back into the kitchen. 

“Thought I’d drop by, see what you’re up to.” 

“Just—” You shrug, walking back to your sink and taking up the sponge. “Chores and errands and stuff.” 

“We can do better than that.” 

“Can we?” 

“C’mon, you can’t spend your day off doing dishes,” Bruce insists. You hardly glance up as you continue to wash your dishes. He’s quiet as he leans on the counter beside you. 

“...Movie?” He asks. “Lunch? Where haven’t we been?” 

Where’d you take Liz Wyatt—?

“I don’t know. A bunch of places, probably.” 

Bruce is quiet for a moment before he straightens up. You go still was he walks behind you, and wince as you hear the scrape of paper up as he takes up the magazine. 

“...You shouldn’t believe everything you read,” He comments. Damnit.

“It’s Michelle’s.” 

“She shouldn’t believe everything she reads, either…I never pegged you as the jealous type.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Bruce scoffs a laugh behind you, and you hear the thud of the magazine hitting the table behind you. You bite your lip as you hear his retreating footsteps, and wince when you hear the slam of your door behind him. You tighten your grip on the sponge and the bowl that you’re washing, fighting back tears as your chest floods with upset.

--  

“...Have you a particular reason for this sour mood?” 

“What sour mood.” Bruce hardly looks away from his computer as he answers. He does glance down as Alfred sets a mug of tea down beside his elbow. 

“I haven’t seen you sulk like this since you received a rejection letter from Harvard.” 

“I’m not sulking.” 

“I’m very familiar with a sulk, Master Wayne, and this is a textbook example.” When Alfred doesn’t receive any answer, he glances toward the myriad of screens in front of Bruce. He spots a familiar video close to Bruce’s field of vision—news footage of Bruce’s shop assistant being interviewed just after the attempted robbery at the store. She looks shaken, and scared; Alfred can see the quivering of her lips and jaw as she fights to compose herself in front of the camera. Alfred purses his lips as his gaze drifts to another screen—footage taken by paparazzi as Bruce escorted Liz Wyatt to a film premiere. 

“...How was your time with Ms. Wyatt?” He hedges.

“It was fine.” 

“Hm. Have you told a certain shop assistant that I appreciated the hue of forest green gloves that she selected?” 

“I didn’t get a chance.” 

“Oh? What kept you?” 

“I don’t have time for this, Alfred.” 

“No time for this, sir? Or no time for her?” 

“I have plenty of time for—” Bruce whirls around to argue, and goes quiet as he catches sight of Alfred’s knowing look. Bruce scowls, turning his head away and taking up his tea. 

“...If I may,” Alfred takes a step closer. “The impression that you make to the public—” 

“Shouldn’t have any effect on her. I’ve never acted that way to her, not once.” 

“Maybe not, sir. But these papers are as close as most people get to knowing Bruce Wayne. Perhaps the fact that you’ve shown her a different face is far more confusing than you mean it to be.” 

Alfred watches Bruce as he mulls it over, and swallows his sip of tea, then shoves his chair back. 

“May I ask where you’re going, sir—?” 

“You know very well,” Bruce grumbles, taking up his jacket and whirling away from the displays. Alfred watches smugly, taking up the unfinished cup of tea, and turning to return to the kitchen. 

-- 

You’re not chilly—you’re fucking freezing. The cold snap has descended on your neighborhood with a vengeance. You find yourself wriggling your fingers and toes intermittently, just to make sure you still can. You huff, tightening your coat around yourself and drawing your blanket up around your lap. You never did manage to run those errands to pick up supplies—but before the power had gone out, you’d seen a news report that most shops were sold out of the essentials. You can’t even watch something on your phone. You need the charge on it in case of emergencies. You daren’t even use your flashlight to read, in case you wear out the battery. You shiver, wriggling and sinking back into your couch. Maybe if you sit still long enough, you’ll create a warm spot. Maybe you could fall asleep like this—

You whine as someone knocks on the door. Fucksake. Maybe it’s your neighbor? You can’t imagine who else might be dropping by now, unless Michelle forgot something. You hop up, taking hold of the flashlight and practically jogging to the door to keep warm. You open the door, mouth open to ask what whoever it is needs, but—

“...What are you doing here?” You manage. Bruce’s brow furrows, gaze sweeping you before he looks down the hall, then inside again. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“The power and the heating are out,” You admit. 

“Is Michelle here, too?” 

Here to ask her about the magazine?

“No, no. She’s at her parent’s. They still have power.” 

“Why didn’t you go with her?” 

“There’s not much room there—her parents are crammed into the apartment with just the two of them as it is. If it had been me and Mish there, we would’ve been spilling out through the front door.” 

Bruce’s lips push into a thin line before he nods over your shoulder. “Pack a bag.” 

-- 

The view is nuts, and the furnishings are incredibly lush, but most importantly, it’s warm. You hardly glance up from the mug of tea in your hands as Bruce lowers himself onto the couch beside you. You bite your lip as his hand rests warmly on your lower back, rubbing gently. 

“Thank you,” You mumble. “You can stop saying that.” 

You’ve been saying it since he insisted you come with him. You said it as you packed, you said it as he led you to the car, you said it in the car (twice), you said it in the elevator on the way up, you said it when he showed you where you could get changed and asked if you wanted tea.

“I mean it.” 

“I know.” 

You nod a little.

“And I’m sorry,” You tack on. 

“That’s a switch.” The slight tease is back in Bruce’s tone.

“Bruce,” You sigh, setting the mug down and resting your face in your hands. He scooches closer, curling his arm around your shoulder and drawing you into his side. You slouch against him tiredly, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I let Michelle get in my head about that—Stupid article. It wasn’t fair to you…And I shouldn’t have acted so rudely when you stopped by.” You tip your chin up to get a good look at him. “I’m sorry.”

Bruce’s gaze sweeps your face before he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“It’s alright.” 

“Is it?” 

Bruce tips his head to the side a touch as he seems to consider. 

“I wasn’t…Those pictures. Liz and I know one another from Princeton. We’re not dating—and she asked me to escort her to the premiere because she didn’t want to go alone. It didn’t mean anything.” 

You nod, murmuring, “Okay.”

“That’s it?” He repeats, amused. “Okay?” 

“The fakest I have ever seen you was when you charmed my boss into letting me off the floor. That’s the same Bruce I’ve seen on the covers of papers and magazines. You haven’t been like that with me—ever. So you’re either…The greatest actor of a generation, or you’re…Fuck, I don’t know. Batman or something?” 

Bruce huffs a laugh out, shaking his head. “Well, I’m not the greatest actor.” 

“Seems like you are for the cameras, at least.” You rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. “I am sorry.”

“I could’ve actually spoken to you. You know—properly.” 

Your heart ticks up in your chest as Bruce nuzzles your forehead before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile, stomach fluttering as he reaches down, hooking his arms under your legs and drawing them up across his lap. 

“You warm enough?” He asks. You nod, humming softly, and glance up as he draws a plush blanket down from the back of a couch, wrapping it around the two of you. 

“I am now.” 

-- 

“I can take the guest room.” 

“You’re not going to stay?” It leaves you quietly, and you can’t help your pout. You’ve spent the entire day sulking over Bruce, and how you’d spoken to him. You don’t want to be apart from him now—especially when the bed is more than big enough for two. Bruce’s lips quirk with a wider smile before he shuts the light off and walks toward the bed. You grin, scooching down in bed as he walks around to join you. You glance over, watching him reach out and press a button on the nightstand. You glance up as the shades begin to lower over the floor-to-ceiling windows. The room grows darker and darker. You roll onto your side, eyes slowly adjusting to the growing dark, and catching a glimpse of his muscles as he draws his shirt off.

You wiggle a little closer as Bruce lays down beside you, and frown as he leaves a fair amount of space between you.

“You’ll cuddle me on the couch, but not in here?” You murmur. 

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.” 

“Really?” You tease your toes up along his calf. “Bummer.” You begin to draw your leg back, then gasp as he curls his hand around the back of your thigh. Before you can pull back, you feel a rush of cool air as Bruce rolls over you, shifting the covers off of you. He presses close, slotting himself between your legs, his chest brushing yours. 

“Is this any better?” He murmurs, lips brushing yours. You grin, curling your arms around his shoulders, and bending your other knee to cradle his hips. 

“Much better. I was afraid I'd have to teach you a lesson in hospitality, Mr. Wayne.” 

"I'll teach you a lesson."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a promise."

Next Part

[wishmaster]

These seem pretty interesting. I think I’ll try them on!

From Twink to Hunk

Matt bought a pair of ripped skinny jeans from the Curator's Corner. He was so excited he couldn't wait to get them on. Barely in the door he stripped nude pulling the pants on. At first nothing seemed to happen and he was upset only he could find a pair of pants in a cursed shop that weren't cursed. But soon he felt his body begin to burn.

The first changes made him look like a thirsty Twink boy, but the pants weren't done with him yet.

His body was slowly becoming, Swole, his muscle growing but it wasn't till a force hit him that sent him across the room that the real changes happened.

His thighs and leges began to starin the fabric of his jeans while his arms and chest blew up, tattoos began to cover him as he felt new thoughts run through his mind, the former gay young man had thoughts of titties and women's asses running through his head and how his growing cock was going to fuck as many women as possible once the changes were done. Then another wave hit him this one seemed final or at least he hoped or there wouldn't be nothing left of his precious new jeans.

The new meathead was ready to test out his new equipment. He got into the the ne expensive car that he appeared in, a gift from his sugar momma at the model agency, and drove off looking for some pussy to fuck. Damn Bro he felt so right in this body now.

[sun-stricken]

Headcannoms about friendship between Bickslow and Gray? I like to think after the fighting festival he really tries to make it up to Gray.

Gray: ‘we’re chill. It’s fine.’

Bickslow: ‘my babies will now perform a dance of apology’

Also a scenario I’d like to share!

Lucy: hey, Gray I picked up your mail. Why do you have a letter from a modelling agency?

Gray: oh that. I don’t know they just keep sending me them even though I’ve told them no.

Lucy: you’ve turned them down repeatedly?! *while crying inside*

Gray: yeah? It’s weird ‘cause I didn’t even apply.

Lucy: Lucy kick!

i for some reason hadn’t considered the idea of them having a close friendship, but i am now so here! a gift !

i had so much fun with this

* my personal hc is that Bickslows dolls feel a lot of what he himself feels, and also theyre kinda like birds

* so they too try to make it up to Gray, they bring him little things they find, such as shiny rocks, pins, and other tiny objects they find

* Bickslow just nods in approval from the sidelines when they bring them to Gray

* They were both fairly awkward with each other post festival but after Bickslow gave Gray an honest apology they began to turn over a new leaf

* people find the friendship strange tbh, Gray is known as this vaguely calm and like, super normal guy, and Bickslow is just— not

* theyre surprisingly comfortable with each other

* they dont hang out a lot outside the guild, but thats not to say they dont ever,

* While they dont work the best together and it took a while be able to fight along side on another,

* If the Thunder Legion and Team Natsu have to pair up usually they do bc they’re comfortable with each other and trust can go a long way

* theyre both texting fiends, like its a problem how much they message their friends, so when they found out the other was the same oh my god was it a train wreck

* their conversations can go for hours and if you read through them youd probably have an aneurysm because the topics make no sense and Bix doesn’t even try to spell correctly

* They have gotten close and friendly but that doesnt mean theu ever know what to expect from the other, their opinions and thoughts are so different from each other, if rhey ever have the same idea its like all the stars and planet’s have aligned and world is about to end

* Bickslows hair is naturally black and Gray helped him dye it once and they deadass looked they walk out the smurf set for weeks, Bix’s bathroom looked like they murdered a hundred of them

* Gray has an affinity for collecting hand weapons (swords, spears, bows, etc) while Bickslow likes taking apart and building old bombs (actual explosive grenades, land mines, smoke/flash grenades)

* they bonded over it and talked about it in public and terrified about 20 people rhat were in earshot

* theyre both a big hit with kids

* Bickslow gets added to the long list of people who barge into Gray house unannounced

* a lot of the time they will talk (coughcomplaincough) about two different things in the same convo

* Bickslow: the cops were at my door again last night because of the inactive grenade i threw in the fountain, woke me up and everything

* Gray: ugh, i hate that, Natsu blew up a building again and Erza yelled at the both of us

* Bickslow: thats so rude, do you think i should make another one and send it to them?

* Gray: totally, she knew it wasnt me but i still got scolded

so happy ppl have realized how pretty Gray is, now we’re gonna talk abt it bc im an overachiever

* Hes been scouted by plenty of different modeling agencies over the years, which really boosted his ego but very quickly became annoying as hell bc he never even applied

* He gets a couple a month, and he accepted once just to get them off his back and found it really embarrassing bc he was everywhere

* his friends in and outside the guild bought the magazines he was featured in and teased him mercilessly and he never stepped foot in another agency ever again

* Hes really photogenic but hates gets his photo taken, most of the pictures hes in ‘willingly’ hes glaring at the camera

* he now just blocks the numbers they call him on and throws out the letter they send him, if they stop him on the street he will walk away before the conversation even starts

* when Lucy found out something inside her died a little

* she pestered him about it and said she’ll go with him! he wont even have to take the money for it! she’ll take it! 😁

* she gets shot down every time but that doesnt mean she quit trying

[malebodyexhibit]

Pygmalion (a Next Door Boy tale)

You’ve been hearing a lot about the Next Door Boy agency. It’s was a sleeper hit with traction having only been among the wealthy. Now more terms and conditions are being laid on with the public gaining more and more interest in its services. I managed to ride the coat tails during its debut. In fact, I was one of the first hundred clients to try it out. I was a 63-year old business man who had a large amount of capital, even after my divorce and child support. When I was selected as to premier the service, I was ecstatic. But the wait for the actual service date was torture. You see, they had to find consenting adults to be the talent. Finding attractive, young men to be hosts to an older clientele would be hard. Whenever they found one for me, then I’d be able to try it.

But I had particular taste in who I wanted to be. I offered to help find talent and the company agreed. When you offer the amount of money desperate old men would pay to be a young fuckable hunk, it was easy to find Owen. Owen was an 18-year-old high school graduate. He had high dreams of becoming a Chaturbate star or OnlyFans model. He really worked that body of his. In my chats with him, he really detailed his workout routine, his diet, and his hygiene. It was important to him that others found him hot and sexy. I assured him that with his body, he was certainly a prize, but that he could make more money with this new company.

He signed on. He hardly needed to be persuaded! I spoke with Owen a great deal. In fact I knew him while he was a football player. I’d cheer for him during home games. My own son idolized him. My son went on to college while Owen stayed and worked out, trying to be that sex symbol. In my talks with Owen, I asked him what he wanted to do with his life. Owen said again the OnlyFans stuff, but when I pushed him further, he was at a loss.

“I’m not gonna let myself get old, Mr. [Redacted],” Owen said. He flashed me a cocky smile, running his hand through his curly hair. “I’m gonna settled down with someone and retire on the beach.”

I gave a pained smile.

Owen underwent the procedure to install the implant. He just wanted the money and didn’t really want to discuss the conditions of our deal. Finally we settled that I would co-inhabitate him for a half-a-year with me taking control every two days a month. He agreed to be placed in suspension due to not wanting a temporary body (which is basically being a roommate in someone’s mind with other displaced consciousnesses) or being in my old, out-of-shape body. I would spent two days living his life, enjoying his youth. As you imagined, I spent the first few times working his cock raw, playing with my abs, and trying to flirt with his straight friends.

Things really progressed slowly. Adjusting to the disorientation took a lot of time, so when the half year was up, we spoke again about new conditions. He really liked the money, but I felt bored in his small life. There was working out, hanging out with friends, and nothing else. I decided to offer him a place at my home in a larger city. There he could enroll in college courses or take up a job. He tried to tell me he wasn’t interested in those things, but I practically begged him that I was interested and wanted to experience those things as him. He didn’t have to go there. It would only be when I was him. So our new conditions were set up. I would be him for two days a week. He made sure I stuck to a strict diet and workout routine while I was him. I agreed. I started to enjoy his grind for a perfect body.

While I possessed him, I went to classes. I chose art courses for Owen because it was something I didn’t have a chance to do in my life, and it wasn’t heavy on studying or reading. Jobs for college students are usually pretty light so I got a gig at the school. The job I chose for Owen was a Math tutor on the days I possessed Owen. I knew math pretty as I was an accountant, so it didn’t feel out of place for me. My life felt so much better now that I could do something other than working out. I actually made plenty of art friends. I also had the benefit of ‘running into’ my son.

I chose the same college as my son, Levi. At first I assumed I chose it because it was convenient. But subconsciously, maybe I wanted to be closer to him. He always idolized Owen. Maybe I could show him a better Owen to idolize. When I ran into Levi, he almost didn’t recognize me. While possessing him, I usually kept Owen’s bro fashion sense: gray sweatpants, an Underarmor compression shirt, and briefs. I felt it made me unique among the hipster types in the art classes. But sometimes I decide to try something more risqué (think crop top tees, or tight jeans that show the outline of a jock strap). That’s when I ran into Levi. My lower abs peeking from a crop top tee. I was free balling in sweatpants with my dick outline obvious to the eyes. We were awkward at first, but we started talking about high school. I was able to flip through Owen’s memories and be convincing. We went out to eat dinner (I was stuck to getting something high protein for the diet condition) and walked in the park. As a couple months went by, Levi mentioned wanting to go on a camping trip with me and his friends. His dad used to take him camping before he divorced his mother. He missed those days. (Oh.) I was excited and realized that there were another three months before new terms could be made. I apologized to Levi that I couldn’t but maybe the next year.

We didn’t make much contact after that. But in my old body, I found Levi visited more often. It was I who offered a camping trip. Escaping into Owen the past months had calmed me. I had been livid with Levi’s mother during and after the divorce. We disagreed about everything even though we had a good few years. Things gotten strained when I couldn’t continue to live a life of lies. Now that I calmed, I actually managed to strike a comfortable friendship with his mother. And with her agreement, we decided to surprise Levi with a… goodbye camping trip of sorts. A goodbye to those bad memories and the old marriage. His mother didn’t like camping much, so it was more of a backyard camping situation with his mother sleeping in a cabin while he and I slept in tents a stone’s throw away. It was remarkably peaceful. The trip was about 8 days and I missed the possession session with Owen.

Owen continued his thing while I was away. He stay at my house was secret. He was usually out of the way, but whenever Levi came over, he had to be out of sight. He did want to reconnect with his old friend, but Levi finding his dad living with his old high school friend would be super weird. Owen usually busied himself cam whoring or working out in his private gym.

When the time came for new set of conditions, Owen actually declined to continue. He had saved up enough money and wanted to live his own life. I didn’t want that. I managed to convince him to stay. There’d be no easier money than this.

I wanted more of Owen’s time. I wanted to go camping with Levi as his friend. I wanted to get more serious with his education and career. I offered a suggestion. It was the one of the first serious suggestions of the time of this nature. Others have made similar serious suggestions, but quickly backed off when there was pushback from the company and host. I pushed forward, particularly because I managed to talk Owen into it.

I wanted to live a quarter of a year as Owen entirely. I didn’t want to do the six days possessed then one day normal type deal. I wanted to sleep and wake as Owen. Of course the company altered this as much as they could. I would co-exist with Owen. We’d switch off who was in control. This would be so that Owen wouldn’t be in a sleep-type purgatory for months since he vehemently disagreed with being me. The company couldn’t offer a temporary host for that long. Also, the company wanted to test this type of set up. It could open new doors for business.

It started really well. Owen would wake while I watched his life. He’d make his breakfast, work out, masturbate, etc. I’d take over and head to class. It was so mundane like putting on a suit for work. Sometimes he’d have me do the workout and masturbation while he would listen to lectures (well, we both listened to the lectures; I was just in the backseat). Eventually we’d argue in our head about what to do. I masturbate to men; he masturbates to women. I want to suck cock; he wants to fuck pussy. Most of our arguments were about sex. To get back at him, I remember just hooking up with guys as often as I could. When I was in control, was when I was in some guy’s hole. I think that was what caused the error. Whenever one of us was in the backseat of our mind, we could still observe and feel what was happening to our body, but when there was a repugnant or painful stimulation, we sometimes involuntarily dissociated ourselves. It’s a bit freaky. One minute you’re helplessly watching yourself fall, preparing for hitting the ground, then the next second, an hour went by. I think that happened to Owen. In the backseat of our mind, he watched helplessly as I sucked cock with his mouth and got fucked in his ass by another guy. I could sense him still, but he was quiet. Over time, it grew dimmer and dimmer until I felt I was utterly alone.

Next Door Boy reacted… curiously. It wasn’t that they were excited or upset, but they just wanted all the information on what happened. They decided to remove me from the host to see if Owen would recover. A week had gone by. Owen’s body still lived. It was sustained by an automatic response to breathe, but it needed to be fed and taken care of.

It seemed to be a lawsuit in the works, but they seemed to find a practical solution.

They stuck me back in Owen’s body. Now my body. My old body was on ‘vacation’ and would only occasionally come back. I tried to keep up the appearances of Owen and myself before it got to cumbersome. And my life truly was in Owen.

By that time, Levi and I as Owen went our camping trip. We had a blast with our friends. I felt Levi and I grow closer, and while it felt strange to feel this way towards Levi, I reminded myself I wasn’t his father anymore.

My old body would leave some money for Levi and his mother. The rest would be funneled secretly to Owen’s body. I would still have some measure of wealth and a younger, youthful body.

It’s been over half a decade and I graduated college with a dual major in Art and Accounting. I’m able to pursue an art career. I entered into a loving relationship with my husband.

The circumstances with Owen and Next Door Boy might’ve inspired the universal conditions that aim to protect the host, but I’m not at liberty to discuss it. I no longer use those services, in fact Levi and I laughed as we read the stories of middle aged men using young men to fulfill their sex lives. “How desperate do you have to be?” Levi asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said, truly not sure how desperate I had been. “But I’m glad we have each other.”

[shy-mama]

The Dream

There once was a girl who grew up with a family of immigrants, the youngest out of the bunch with memories of blue and confusion. Since young shed looked up at the sky and make wishes, having complete blind fate it would happen. The young girl was beaten by life backstab after backstab, her audacious smile was gone. Turned into a edgy pre teen who was just trying to take it day by day. The dreams were still there but wrong encounters with the wrong people cut the strings of the balloons and made them float into space. Then there was nothing, nothing but love, so she clung onto the little she could conjure up, and there was so very little so she turned desperate. Drugs and visions, visions and drugs. visions inside and out. The love that she had summoned started to consume her until she couldn’t even tell who she was or what, or why. Then after several dark nights of the soul. She sat up. she remembered the wishes she made to the sky. In fact she didn’t just remember, she had always remembered, this time she FELT those wishes once again. She was going to do what she wanted to do because what the hell with it. What she desired was what will make her happy and thats all that mattered to her at that point. She wrote down a list with the cadence of a kindergartner. Become model aka prettiest girl in the world, get cute and popular boyfriend, travel. And for the first time in a long time all of these seemed possible. She just had to get the ball rolling. That day she had completely gained trust in herself. She started with the weight loss she did a juice cleanse which jumpstarted her weight loss. Then got a juicer and would mostly drink juices. Then she applied for about 10 modeling agencies and was accepted to the one she was most hoping for. She knew she would get in since this is what she had been destined to do since she was 3. Thankfully she had the right encounters with the right people and quickly moved up in the modeling world. Her skills and looks were also a testament to that. She was traveling the country and world doing photoshoots and runways and drinking hot chocolate in a cafe with Bella Hadid. First part of her list complete. She had a fashion award ceremony to attend to in Seoul, south Korea. She had been informed from her agent that she would be winning a big award. After she had received her award. Thats when she met the 2nd part of her list. Boy A, he approached her and was visibly in awe of her. The two love birds hit it off immediacy and started dating. Things were moving fast between them, they said its because they feel like they knew each other in several past lives. After a few months they had been caught on one of their outings together. The photos were posted all over and boy A’s fans were outraged, some were sad, and some were happy for him. The blogs were all talking about boy A’s mystery girl lover. She was thriving with this, reading all the jealous and shocked comments had her vibrating she had craved this. It was one of the reasons she wanted a popular and cute boyfriend anyway. Oh and for item 3 on the list that was already accomplished. Because of work she had to travel frequently, she had also gone on friend trips and lover trips as well. 

So the sum of the story is just sit up, you don't have to stand up just start somewhere. Make a list of what you want and I mean truly want. If thats hard for you to find out try to pretend a genie came and gave you three wishes. Then break down those wishes and how to practically get there. honestly along as you start on wish 1 the other wishes will come rolling easily to you, why? Because the universe loves when we have desire. Because love and desire is the creators one true will. And also drill into your head that its impossible to fail. Because the universe has a billion safety nets on every side of you. And if you are like me and really hate this universe talk just remember the universe is closer then you think. Ps the universe is you!, yes when all those manifesters on YouTube are talking about trust in the universe they mean trust in yourself. I don't want to get into the whole quantum physics, astronomy, and spirituality logic of it but I had a hard time trusting the uni. Primarily because it was a source outside myself. Then I learned that universe is literally inside everyone and myself and things got some much easily to understand.I know that at the end of the day if no ones got me I got me. Ive only been alive for 22 years but I, myself, has brought me, myself, out of some much chaos and darkness. So I really have no other choice but to believe in myself and make shit happen.