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aritsukemo · 5 months ago

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Your 25th Birthday | Multiple Characters

Characters: Obanai Iguro, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyojuro Rengoku, Zenitsu Agatsuma, and Kanae Kocho

Warnings: Angsty themes ahead! Takes place after the canonical events of Demon Slayer but in an au where the characters who died survive! Reader is crippled in a few of these ( Kyojuro's s/o especially has been through hell and is heavily implied to be paralyzed from the waist down. There are also implications that she's been burned, cut up, etc. ) so read at your own risk!

Summary: It's the night before their marked!s/o's 25th birthday! How do they spend it with them? 🤔

A/N: I wrote this scenario over on Wattpad for a special and I really liked how it came out so I wanted to share some of my favorite parts over here on Tumblr! Hope you enjoy it! 😁

"Do you think we'll meet each other in every life?" The question was whispered out in the dead of night as you sat on the engawa of your estate. Obanai sat next to you, being used for both support and a source of comfort. You watched the stars twinkle in the sky, a forgone look in your eyes that he's never seen before. It was unnerving to him since it felt like he was staring at a breathing corpse..

"Of course. If that's what you want, I'll find you in every life," He answered to which you hummed, your expression unchanging from the one of unsettling contentment.

"What if something happens to prevent us from being together?" You muttered grimly despite the smile painted on your face. Obanai was quicker answering this time around, "Nothing would prevent me from being with you. Nothing."

"Even if I'm a total jerk?" You questioned. He answers, "Even if you're a total jerk."

"Even if we're on opposite sides of the world?" You continued. He answers, "Even if we're on opposite sides of the world."

"Even if I turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat you?" And then he pauses. You giggle at him despite the bad taste the lack of answer gives you and mutter out a soft, "Sorry. That was mean of me to ask. Forget—"

"Even.." This time, you pause. Your head bobbing back to look up at him and those marvelous mismatched eyes of his. He's already looking at you by that time. He's been doing so the entire time, never once glancing at the night sky since the two of you sat down.

He continues, "..Even if you turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat me," He says, "I can't promise that we would be together in that life, but in the afterlife, I'd do everything in my power to make you the happiest person in the world."

You hadn't realized it until he moved his hand from your waist and started rubbing at your cheeks that you had started crying. Even when you did realize it, you didn't do anything besides let the tears fall because even if you wanted to wipe away the tears, you had long lost feeling in your arms to do so.

In the end, you smother your face into his haori, not caring that you suddenly felt the cool scales of Kaburamaru as he wrapped himself snugly—but not too tightly—around your neck.

"Thank you.." You sniveled as your tears wet his shoulder, "Thank you so much for loving me, Obanai.."

"Thank you for allowing me to love you, Y/n," He said back as he let you stain his shoulder with your tears.

"Awh, don't cry, pretty girl.. Not over me," You cooed as your fingers ran through the pink of Mitsuri's hair. She was hunched over on the bedside, face in your lap and her fat, wet tears dripping down her stained cheeks—passing the moles under her eyes that you love to kiss—and splashing onto your kimono.

She had worked so hard trying to mentally prepare herself for tonight, but when she entered the room and saw your tired, smiling face staring back at her, she broke down.

There was still so much she wanted to do with you! So many dates she wanted to take you on! So many foods she wanted to cook and try with you! So many firsts she still hasn't been able to take from you and so many firsts you haven't had the time to take from her! So many memories she still wanted to make with you!

Why can't she be given just a little more time with her sweetheart? She gets that this sacrifice was a necessary one and she wouldn't be here otherwise if it weren't for you pushing yourself the extra mile and saving her, but she can't help the sinking feeling of regret that drags her heart down to her stomach by a chain of sorrow at the thought of you leaving..

"I- I'm..so sorry.." She managed to say between sobs, "I'm.. I'm sorry...I.."

"Sorry for what, honey?' You asked her in a tender tone, "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I.. I.." She takes a moment, unable to form a proper sentence without choking on her own sobs, "I'm sorry for being such a horrible wife!" Now, you certainly weren't expecting that out of all things..

Your brows furrow as your hand stills in her hair, "You aren't a bad wife, honey," You said, trying your best to sound firm despite the slight tremor in your voice from exhaustion.

"Yes, I am!" She wailed, "I haven't been able to do anything for you! You.. You were always the one caring for me and I haven't been able to fulfill any of your needs or do anything you should be proud of!"

"Hey, hey, hey," You shushed, "Look at me..please," And she listens immediately like a puppy at your beck and call. She lifts her head, her big green eyes puffy and filled to the brim with tears despite the constant stream that flows down her pink, warmed cheeks.

"You are an amazing wife, alright? Marrying you was the best thing to ever happen to me," You told her, putting a slight pause between each word to better emphasize your statement. You used your fingers to urge her to come closer and she complies, inching closer until she's close enough so that you could cup her face.

"You simply waking up and smiling at me everyday is enough for me. Seeing you happy and healthy is enough for me, do you understand me?" You asked, the shake in your voice getting worse, "You've done everything to satisfy me. If anything, I should apologize to you for not granting your wishes."

What are you talking about? There's no way you seriously think that, right?

"No! Don't apologize!" Suddenly pushing herself up with her arms, her face suddenly got so close to yours that you had to move your had back so that you two didn't accidentally bump heads, "My wish was to marry someone who'd love me for me.. Wh-.. Who'd love my freakish strength and my weird hair color and my abnormal appetite and you've done that better than anyone ever could!" As she talks, her cool tears drip onto your warm hands and scatter upon contact, "You've made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and you've spoiled me at every turn! You've made my life feel like it was worth living, so please—!" She moves forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and putting her tearful face into your shoulder, "Don't downplay your hard work! I can't bear you doing that after you've given so much to me!"

And with that, she crumbles all over again on your shoulder, and to your surprise, you do too. As her grip loosens and she slides down your body, ending with her head at your lap once again and bawling into it, you felt your eyes welling up with tears.

"Mitsuri.." Your throat began to ache from trying to keep your voice steady as your bottom lip began tremble. You tried to control yourself further by slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle a sob that threatened to slip from your lips, but your tears rolled from your eyes without your permission and down your hand, dripping onto your beloved before you could catch them with your other hand..

In the end, a particularly loud hiccup sounded your defeat and you bowed your head. Your hands sliding over your face as you cried with the former Love Hashira who you are grateful to call your spouse in this life.

"It's been a while since I've seen that expression on your face," You said as you gazed up at the prettiest woman you've ever laid your eyes on. Her thin brows dipped and wrinkling her smooth, porcelain-like skin just like the thin line she made with her lips, which you notice twitch just a tad at your comment.

She doesn't say anything to retort what you said. Not a witty remark or sarcastic, irritated utterance or a flowery deflection leaving her pink-painted lips. She simply gazes down in silence, her polished thumb rubbing lines into the back skin of your hand in a steady motion. It causes your eyes to frown and otherwise droop as you realize that your simple attempt at relieving the tense atmosphere in the room has failed.

"Shinobu," You call, "Can you smile for me?" And she listens, her brows lifting just like her lips as they form into that perfect smile that took her years to perfect. Just the sight of it makes you frown.

"Not like that. I want to see a genuine smile.." You mutter and just like that, her smile drops and her brows knit together once again. This time, though, it's all brought together by the vein flexing on her forehead.

"How am I suppose to do that when my wife is dying in front of me?" She asks, voice quiet and complimented by a vexed tone. In the past, you always hated when she got mad at you. Seeing her so visibly irked was frightening, even more so when it was directed at you..

But right now, hearing her angry tone and seeing her infuriated expression brought you nothing but comfort and caused your smile to return. She notices it and it pushes her to ask you in an exasperated tone, "How can you do that?"

You blink, confused "Do what?"

"Smile," She tells you, "You of all people know what's about to happen, but you still smile at me.."

"What's wrong with that? Can't I smile at the woman I fell head over heels for until I stop breathing?" You egg on and that little nudge is all she needs to be pushed over the edge and for her to explode and for tears of pure frustration to fill her eyes.

"Stop joking around!" Her voice comes out raised and aggressive, like an angry dog ready to attack someone. She must've realized that, because she grits her teeth and sucks in a breath. Taking a few seconds to collect herself a little before continuing. Her voice was still brimming with anger, but sounding more controlled.

"You're going to die any minute now. Don't you understand that? You're going to pass away and leave everything behind..you're going to leave me alone here.. You know all of that, yet you still smile at me without a hint of regret or sadness, and I'm sorry, but I can't stand looking at you like that!"

"Why would I have regrets?" You ask, "I achieved all my goals and did everything I wanted to do in this lifetime. Kibutsuji is dead. There are no more demons terrorizing the innocent. And, I was able to live the rest of my years surrounded by the ones I love and cherish. I even got the bonus of becoming a Kocho and marrying the woman of my dreams," You say, rubbing at your finger as the ring on it flashes in the moonlight that shines down through the singular window in the room, "What's there to regret?"

"What about the fact that everything is coming to an end? You won't be here to make memories with me or any of your friends or family?" As the tears fall down her cheeks, Shinobu finds herself balling her hands into fists. She despised crying, especially when in the presence of others, but she couldn't control herself. Like an immature little kid, she couldn't control her emotions and her blood boiled all the more because of it.

"I'll always be here, even if it's not physically," You told her softly and she starts matching your tone, although the agitation in hers is still so apparent.

"Be serious for one second, Y/n," She snapped, only for you to follow up with, "I've been serious this entire time, love."

Then her tone raises again, "No, you haven't!" And then it falls again as she lets out an embarrassing choke, "T- There's..no way you have. How could you possibly be fine with this?"

"Because I know that as long as the people I love are still here to remember me and value that time I spent with them, I'll never truly die.. At least..not in their eyes," You tell her, ignoring the fact that Shinobu is starting to become harder and harder to see by the second.

Shinobu sobs and chokes die down after a while. By that time, your eyelids started feeling like paper weights; unbearably heavy. You tried to play it off by blinking slowly, but your wife caught on quickly. She could tell you were hitting your limit and you thought that'd it make her anger spike again or cause her another breakdown, but neither happened. Instead she surprised you by curling her lips upwards. Her eyes were red from crying and you couldn't see it well, but the corner of her brows twitched. Her cheeks was also stained pink, likely from embarrassment of having broke down in front of someone, even if that someone was her own wife.

To put it frankly, she was a mess with a smile painted over it. But it was genuine and from the heart and that was enough to satisfy you.

The afternoon glow of the sky shone down on you as you stuck your hand, which had a handful of rice in it, out to a dog. Sanemi watched, looking like a little kid experiencing their first crush, as the dog barely hesitated to come closer and begin liking at your hand.

The scene was like a painting come to life. You were all dressed up in an expensive kimono he bought you. Your hair was styled in a way to match your attire and to frame your face, which was powdered in elegant, nice-looking makeup. And, you had a smile on your face as you gave the dog a similar look a mother would give her child while rocking them to sleep in her arms.

That thought reminded him of how he could never bring himself to make you a mother. How he feared that he wouldn't be able to bear the sight of your child, who'd undoubtedly resemble you in some kind of way, after your passing. Or, how he feared he'd accidentally end up just like his monstrous, asshole of a father and you'd stare at him with the same fright in your eyes as his mother did to his father.

He's not cut out to be a dad. Never was. And it's a shame because Sanemi knows you'd make an excellent mother. Thinking about it puts a bad taste in his mouth and in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts, he huffs out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. He can't risk thinking of something so disheartening and make himself sad. You proposed taking a walk around to clear his head of such thoughts after all and he doesn't want your efforts to go to waste.

"Sanemi," He blinks. How long were you calling his name? He stares at you once again and this time, you're turned and staring over your shoulder at him, who's sat on the steps, your hand now running through the dog's fur. Your smile is still there, but your eyes are dimmed with concern. The sight makes him feel guilty as it dawns on him that he probably worried you.

"Are you alright?" You asked and he responds to you quickly, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Maybe it was because of how fast he answered you, but you didn't seem convinced. You kept staring at him with a woeful, skeptical look and it broke him, so he rephrases his previous statement, "I was just..thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" You asked, your hand leaving the dog's at last and getting up from your crouched position in front of the dog, "Want to talk about it?"

"No," He replied, but you walked up to him and sat beside him on the steps anyways and he sighs and says, "I promise it's nothing. Today is your day, so let's do something that focuses on you."

He sees your smile widen, and he finds himself unable to keep eye contact with a work of art such as yourself. He looks away from you, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He then hears that addicting laugh of yours and he feels his heart thrumming in his chest. Gosh, you were going to be the death of him..

"You're such a sweetheart," No he isn't, was what he wanted to say but decided against it to spare both of you an unnecessary argument. It's a known fact that he's the farthest thing from sweet. That said, when he's in your presence, he can't help but be overly gentle with you. He can't help but touch and caress you as if you were made of priceless gemstones. He can't help but pamper you like you're some kind of princess. That's probably why your perception of him is so skewed compared to others.

You are the only person alive who has that perception of him. You are the only person alive who can set his skin ablaze with something as simple as a poke of your finger. You are the only person alive who'd devote your limited time on making him feel the way you have. You are the only person alive who still saw him a kind light while whispering endearments and kissing him and feeling him years ago when many people around him saw him as a monster.

..And someone so kind, so caring, so compassionate..will no longer be in this world soon. You, who always looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world will soon perish because you disregarded your own wellbeing during the war and gave your all to bring an end to that abomination named Muzan Kibutsuji.

"Y/n.." He calls, still not looking at you. You hum, waiting on him to continue. Certainly not expecting him to ask, "Would you be willing to waste another lifetime loving me?"

A silence grew between you two and Sanemi would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt not hearing a response from you. He expected it though.

"I don't have much to offer you in this life and I wouldn't be surprised if the same goes for the next. I also can't promise I'll act any better. ..Tch, there's a better chance that I'll be more of a prick in my next life—"

"I would," He grows silent, finally turning his head towards you so that he could look you in the eyes. So that he could scan your facial expression. So that he could find proof that you were lying in your statement just now. But, he doesn't find anything of the sorts and it makes him feel sick—repulsed—at how giddy he feels at the realization that you're dead serious.

"Although, I don't think it'd be a waste of a life," You continued as an afterthought, taking mind to the way he wraps his fingers around the hand that you are leaning on and being as delicate as always as he peels it away from the ground so that he could hold it in his hand.

"If you act even a little like you do now in your next life, I wouldn't mind spend all of eternity with you," He brings your hand up to his face, planting a kiss to the back of your hand before he presses the back of your hand to his forehead and tells you..

"..Thank you for being kind enough..to choose me again."

"You look radiating," He told you. It didn't make your frown turn upside down or even budge as you stared at yourself, sat in a wheelchair; a thick, flowery blanket draped over your legs to keep them warm—not that you could really feel the warmth. Sometime after your 23rd birthday, you stopped feeling the lower half of your body.

"I used to look radiating," You muttered dryly, your only functional eye moving to scrutinize every little scar and wrinkle that ruined your skin. Looking at them made your frown deepened as well as huff out a loud, long, breathy sigh; one that sounded just as tired as you looked in the mirror..

"I don't know why you still wanted me after the war. Look at me.."

"Okay!" Kyojuro said from behind you and just like he's told, his golden, fiery eyes give you a good, long look through the mirror. As the seconds turn into minutes, you find your face heating up. You were ashamed of yourself. Your once smooth skin was littered in painfully permanent cracks, bruises, and blemishes that were caused by mistakes against powerful demons. Your face had more wrinkles than a grandmother despite the fact that you were only in your mid-twenties. Your lips had scars so deep and dark that even the brightest-colored lipstick couldn't hide them.

To put it in simple terms, the sight of yourself made you want to barf.

"I've did what you wanted," He finally says, "Do you know what I see?"

"An ugly, disgusting hag?" You finish for him and you hear a gentle, warm laugh from behind you. It makes a wave of embarrassment ride through the ocean of your stomach. You were being laughed at by your husband. It was humiliating, but you didn't blame him. I mean, you were hideous in your eyes. You probably looked a thousand times worse to other people..

"I see a woman with beautiful eyes that shine like the sun whenever she's happy or proud or upset. A woman who's personality makes me laugh and feel loved and proud. A woman with lips softer than the clouds in the sky even though the words that come out of them usually aren't nearly as fluffy. A woman who's body I always fantasize holding and protecting no matter the attire that covers it. The woman who'd kick me on my butt during a spar and then fret for hours over me getting a tiny cut from chopping vegetables.."

"Y/n, I know that we don't see the same thing, but if I could give you my sight, I know that even you would grow flush from how absolutely breathtaking you are in my eyes."

"Stop," You snap, your head hung low, "Stop," You repeat, but your voice sounds more fragile; like glass cracking bit by bit.

"Stop what?" He crouches down and then slides over so that he's on his knees by your side. His smile is as bright as it was when you first met him all those years ago, "Stop praising my wife?"

"Yes because your wife looks like a freak of nature! A- A demon! A—!"

"—A woman who worked hard and gave her all and pushed past her limits so that me, my family, my friends, and the rest of the world could live in peace," He finishes and then continues, "A woman who sacrificed so much to make sure that no one has to suffer by the hands of a demon ever again.." As he spoke, admiration drips into his voice like sweet honey, "A woman I am honored to call my wife; you."

"Shut up!" You said as you shattered completely, tears filling your eyes without your permission, "Shut up.. Shut up.." You wept.

"I.. I'm not.." And in that moment, something else broke inside of you and you couldn't utter another word. Tears, snot—everything rolled violently down your face and in a pathetic attempt to hide that sight from the world, both of your hands come up to cover your face. And without missing a beat, Kyojuro, smiling from ear to ear, wraps his big, warm arms around you and encases your frail, upper half..

"I love you, Y/n. It truly was, and is, an honor to be your husband."

"What am I going to do, Y/n?" He found himself asking as he gazed up at you from where he laid in your lap. He had been, understandably, anxious and upset all day and to prevent him from wallowing in that sadness until your inevitable demise, you asked him to lay his head down in your lap and allow you to stroke his hair.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. My life was a pathetic mess before I met you.." He shamelessly admits, "I'm nothing without you.."

"I'm positive that you'll be okay," You reassure, or at least, you try to. The look he gives you after you say that makes it clear that your words didn't make him feel better at all.

"Zenitsu, you may find it hard to believe, but you're a strong person. Why else do you think I'm so calm right now?" You ask, and he doesn't say anything as he's unable to find the right words to refute you. It's a step in the right direction, you think.

"I think my husband is more than able to fill my place when I'm gone. I know whatever decision he'll make without me will be from the best intentions. He'll be able to keep our family afloat, protected, and feeling loved and that's all I wish for," You continued, hoping to really drive your words into his head and ease his spirit. Alas, you should've known that Zenitsu will always find a way to be pessimistic whenever it came to himself.

"You overestimate me. I could never replace you," He mumbles, "Compared to you, I'm- Ow!" He sucks in a sharp wince through his teeth and his hand comes up to cover the top of his head which was now in pain. You had landed a firm flick to the center top of his head and to say that it hurt like a bitch would be an understatement.

"You underestimate yourself," You retort. Your hands peeling his away so that you could gently comb your fingers through that area of his scalp as if to nonverbally apologize. He accepts the apology quickly and his hands go back to fiddling with each other atop his stomach.

"I just..don't get what you see in me.." He finally confesses, "I'm overjoyed that you were willing to marry me and even have my kids. It's just..I don't see why you'd do that.." And you sigh at him and he sees you shake your head.

"Hopefully you will eventually.." You say as you lean down. Zenitsu eyes fall close involuntarily and after a moment, he feels you brush aside his hair and press your lips to his forehead. Even when you part from him, he could still feel tingles..

As you straighten your position and gaze down at your husband once again, you can't help but chuckle at the sight of him looking up at you with his face sparkling in a strawberry blush and his pupils glowing with his love for you. There's also the silly look of his bangs being pushed away to reveal the big red kiss-shaped stain in the center that really pulls the sight together.

He looked like an idiot in love, which I guess isn't too far from the truth.

"My wish is that one day, you'll be able to look in the mirror and see what I've seen for almost an entire decade; a tough, talented, stunning man with a personality like no one I've ever seen and a heart of gold to boot."

"How are you feeling?" Kanae asked, sitting at your bedside. The question earns a grin from you.

"However one is supposed to feel when they're about to die," You replied and you notice your girlfriend's expression change to one of realization to a more abashed look.

"I'm sorry, that was a pointless question.." She mumbled and your shoulders shook a little from you trying to control your laughter.

"No, no. It's okay, love. You were just trying to make sure I was comfortable," You said before patting the bed, "Now, c'mon. I wanna lay with you one last time."

Her smile drops completely at that. One last time..right. This will be the last time you two will be able to do this..or do anything together. Her teeth grits behind her lips at the thought. She won't be able to spend anymore time with you. No more dates or little walks or tending to the garden together. When you're gone, that'll be the end of all of that..

It's hard to accept, but not accepting it would be immature and that's the last thing she is. And so, although reluctant, she gets up, crawls into bed, and lays by your side. You waste no time in pulling her closer until her chest hits yours and you're able to lean your head into her shoulder.

There's a silence for a while as you simply take the time to breathe in her scent. She always smelled so nice, like the flowers she grows in the garden. It's light, not too potent, but addictively sweet.

"Man, this sucks," You murmur, "Dying just before the big battle.. How unlucky is that?" She seriously couldn't believe you and she couldn't help but show it on her face for a moment. You were about to die and what you're upset about..is not being able to fight against Kibutsuji? It leaves a bad taste in her mouth knowing that in the end, you're thinking of someone like him instead of..

No. Perish the thought, Kanae. Thoughts like that are selfish and infantile. As a demon slayer, you of all people should understand that feeling of discontentment.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I'm actually glad that you'll have to opt out of this fight," She says and you hum as your interest is peaked, "And why is that? Because you don't want me to get hurt?" You ask and she nods against you.

"Of course," She says and you huff at how dumb your question was. You then mumble out, "Right.."

Silence envelopes the room once again like an awkward hug. Neither of you knew what to say. There were things you could say, but since you were both trying to avoid sobbing into each others' arms for the rest of the night, neither of you said them aloud. On the other hand, trying to force this half-assed casual conversation doesn't feel the best..

And so, you let out a shaky breath in an attempt to quell your nerves as you whisper to her, "I'm scared, Kanae.. I don't want to die.."

And her grip around you tightens as she whispers back, "I'm scared too. But, it's okay if we're both scared because that means we can comfort each other for the rest of the night,"

You can feel her hands trembling on your thigh and you crane your neck so that you can get a full glance at her smile which poorly covered her nervous expression in the darkness. Seeing it kind of felt like a breath of fresh air..

"I'd like that.." You said in the end, "I'd like that a lot.."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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nagaytoe · 1 month ago

Text

THE KID AT THE BACK

-theories

Did i sit down and analyze this game for 3 hours straight because I'm hyperfixated on it? Yes, yes i did.

This isnt proof-read and long as hell so buckle up for a joyride, y'all (by the way, there's another TKATB fanfic in the works as we speak and also some fanart, though I'm not sure wether to post it or not... well, we'll see!)

Some of these might not seem all too thought through (??) Since i was kind of grasping at straws here (and it was like 2 a.m. lmao), so if y'all have questions/need me to elaborate or have theories of your own feel free to share!

(There's some inspiration here from other people in the Fandom, most of them from the community section on itch.io which isnt available any more)

Sol knows the player longer than we think

My theory ->

-Fantasia stated that one of her 3 biggest inspirations was the game AMNESIA

-In amnesia the mc loses her memory in an accident. One of the love interests is her childhood friend and also the only yandere in the game (at least from what i could find out)

-She already drew Sol with Forget-me-nots and in the valentines day special the boquet sol gave us also contained Forget-me-nots

-In the book (this gallery thing with all the cutscene images) on the top of sols page is written 'Remember Me' which implies we forgot about him

-Annabel Lee Poem:

+The poem contains the line 'I was a child, she was a child' which furthermore implies that Sol and MC knew each other as kids

+Except for the last two paragraphs the poem is written in past tense, which could be talking about sols POV with us

Perhaps MC had an accident, as mentioned above, and MCs father (highborn kinsmen) tore MC away from Sol to the countryside

+The poem mentions angels killing annabel lee which could also mean something like this: MC doesnt die but, however, gets amnesia. That way, the MC sol knows and loves is dead because MC no longer exists the way MC did before (also the fact that she forgot him)

Some people theorize MCs farm is near the sea and that is the reason why sol hates the sea (i believe the city is near the sea and that's where MC 'died' (maybe MC almost drowned and got Amnesia that way?(apparently its possible for people who almost drowned to get amnesia)))

+"The speaker loves annabel lee to the point of death and even after death" (MCs view how to interpret the poem) (-> Sol loves MC to 'death' (the day they got amnesia) and even after 'death' (after MC got amnesia and 'died' in a sense, as a person))

-sol says he thinks death is beautiful, i didn't really know what to make of that, the only conclusion i came to would be: If MC actually did drown and lose their memories due to that, sol might have been involved in MC drowning (or at least blames himself for that) but viewed MC losing their memories as a 'second chance' with them, since they can start from anew (perhaps he made some mistakes with MC in the past which all eventually built up to MC drowning (it could be that we were already teens at that point)

-sol states afterwards: "But people refused them to let them be together, as if fate refuses them to die together" which supports my theory that MC was taken from Sol by someone (most likely the father after he witnessed Sols behaviour and his final straw was MC drowning because of him) the 'let them die together' could mean something like their relationship 'dying' and then starting over again or perhaps he tried to die with them, who knows (all this is really far fetched i am grasping at straws here lmao)

-in a really quick scene right after he mutters "I'm won't let it happen to me... not again" (some people view this as Sol already lost someone he loved dearly but it could also be the MC who was taken from him

ANOTHER THING I COULD IMAGINE -ABOUT DYING TOGETHER COULD BE:

MC almost died, Sol went after them but they were already saved, Sol just didnt witness that and almost died himself/wanted to die but was saved from that by someone (maybe hyugo? Though, he is an exchange student)

-Another theory on hyugo. It's canon that he is an exchange student, however i do believe he is from this city (since he knows about the hierarchy and his brother Geo apparently is no exchange student), moved away and is now back for business (relating to his 'mafia schemes' but under the disguise of being an exchange student)

Maybe he moved around the same time MC left or some time after that

-Hyugo mentions on the rooftop that we remind him of someone and the pronoun of the person he refers to changes based on the one the player picked for the MC in the beginning. It could mean we remind him of someone else entirely, someone maybe not even related to sol (though i doubt that) or to the MC and he knows them from back then but maybe thought MC died as well and cant believe they actually survived (maybe he want to spike MCs memory by doing that)

-A dream within a dream: MC mentions that this poem, at least to them, talks about the uncertainty about something, like life (which could also imply that they might be uncertain about some things in their mife because they simply forgot them due to amnesia)

-THE SECOND DAY 'THE KINGDOM'

+some people think the kingdom (by the sea) refers to MCs farm and implies its near the sea, however in day 2 we find out about the hierarchy in the city and considering my theory that MC actually is from the city and almost drowned there, i believe the kingdom by the sea is the city. MC does mention in the beginning that they lived on the farm ever since they were a child, however, it could very well be that we moved there right after the incident that caused MCs amnesia (if MC was akid when it happened it would really matter because then it would still fit with the fact that they lived there since theyre a child, however if they were already a teen, perhaps the father moved there immediately to cut off all ties to Sol and told us we have always lived there on top of that (considering the previous theories)

The father also didnt seem fond of the idea that we go to the city (the fact that he is is indebted to someone from high class could imply he might be from there), that could be because he knows how dangerous the city is (and how we could potentially meet sol again)

-maybe the reason for the debt is that MCs father suddenly bought the farm land to get us away from the city as soon as possible and had to take on a loan from one of his contacts in the city

-we know that this is MCs last year at the university, if we say shes minimum 22, and was already in the school for 4 years that would mean she got there at 18. If the 'drowning theory' events took place when MC was a teen (like 16 maybe) it would explain why the father was indebted (i also think 2 years is an believable timeframe a higher class person would give someone to pay off their debt)

-at the end of day 2 sol says he's sorry for leaving us and "i dont know what I'll do if..." which supports my theory that he lost us once (and he blames himself as the reason (again, MC drowning?))

-inspirations:

+ https://www.tumblr.com/sweet-herbal-peach-tea/746168072919023616/tkatb-theories?source=share

+ https://itch.io/t/3749638/whats-the-secret-between-hyugo-and-sol

Another theory:

Sleepy Hollow and The kid at the back

-In the nicknames the boys have for MC (fantasia released that on twitter and tumblr) sol calls MC pumpkin (like the pumpkin of the headless horseman (also in the gallery there is a pumpkin above the book)) and Crowe calls them '(star-crossed) lover'

Star-crossed lovers are people who love each other but can't be together

I believe this might imply that, even though Crowe is the second romance option, MC can't be with him no matter what they do

I also found out that the nickname is a phrase from romeo and juliet (which furthermore implies crowe will die)

We know what romeo and juliet is about: romeo and juliet cant be together because their families are enemies (some people believe Crowes father might be them man MCs father owes money to(i personally doubt thah though but it would support this romeo and juliet situation)) and at the end romeo thinks that juliet died, kills himself and then juliet turns out to not be dead but kills herself after seeing romeo dead

-Jericho Ichabod is a character from Sleepy Hollow, along Katrina (the FMC who owns a farm (what a coincidence)) and Brom Bones (its implied he is the headless horseman). In the story, jericho courts Katrina at a party, she rejects him and on his way home the headless horseman kills him (in the scene where Sol accompanies MC to class he says 'it's always been you ichabod' which could furthermore imply that crowe or his family have something do to with the fact that Sol and MC arent together)

In the library scene with Crowe he asks MC about their opinion on marie Antoinette and when MC says something negative about her, his reaction seems kind of strange. MC also brought a book about torture devices and execution methods and in that book is a picture of 'The Executioner' and he has scars on his arms, wears a mask and a chained collar. This correlates with some of sols features. He has scars on his arms (as seen in one of fantasias drawings), wears a chocker (he also wears a mask when he breaks into MCs room but that's really something anyone who does that would do). This implies even more that he will kill crowe.

#tkatb sol #tkatb vn #the kid at the back #solivan brugmansia #Crowe #jericho ichabod #Crowe ichabod #sol brugmansia #yandere visual novel #yandere #yandere vn #tkatb #tkatb theory #tkatb crowe

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hvlplvss · 1 year ago

Text

| still around

summary: in which colby manages to communicate to his childhood best friend through cody and satori.

warnings: angsty tbh, this is a best!friend!colby x reader btw, mentions of death

authors note: kinda short and i lowkey don’t like this

hell week had just begun for sam and colby. not even fifteen minutes ago, cody and satori had explained and begun to showcase their methods of communicating to spirits. which immediately baffled the duo.

a spirit named abigail arnold, had come through. she was called a friendly spirit, the matriarch of the conjuring house. she’d also managed to bring sam’s grandma through, libby golbach. this of course, freaked sam and the boys took a break, to which the spirits agreed.

as sam had recovered from the contact with his late grandma. the two walked back into the living room of the house. cody and satori checked in on sam, before continuing once again.

the workers connected their hands, by holding one another’s wrists. “hi,” satori began, footsteps echoed a moment after, “is this abigail i’m talking to?” the spirit responded with one step. “great! thank you abigail. is there anything else you need to tell me, or tell sam and colby?”

the ghost responded with two footsteps, satori nodded, beginning to spell out the alphabet. it began to spell out your name.

colby’s eyes widened and his hands dropped to his sides. sam recognised the name from when colby first spoke about the loss of his childhood friend at only 14 years old. sam immediately panned the camera towards colby.

eventually, satori had spelt out your entire name. y/n y/l/n. satori and cody turned to look at the boys and noticed colby’s watery eyes. “does that name mean something..?” satori asked carefully.

colby nodded slowly, trying to take a calming breath, “she’s was my bestfriend. uh- she passed when i was fourteen,” colby explained a slight pause between words, reminiscing the thought of the girl.

satori nodded, turning back to cody and grabbing onto him, “abigail, is there anything y/n wants colby to know?” there was silence for a few moments, colby looking up with hopeful eyes, while sam and the camera watched him.

there were five footsteps around the living room. cody and satori nodded, sharing one glance as satori began saying the alphabet.

always watching

the sentence began with. colby’s hand reached up to wipe away the stray tears that seeped from his eyes.

and loving you.

colby stood up and let a few more tears leak from his eyes. satori noticed this and asked abigail for a break, checking that it was okay with y/n as well, who agreed.

colby walked outside with colby following after him, just like they had already done not long ago after they got through to libby.

“dude, how you feeling?” sam asked, turning the camera light on.

colby stood there, wiping both his eyes with one hand. “it’s… it’s just pretty crazy. like we spoke to your grandma, and now y/n?” colby whispered, his voice hoarse. “and i’ve never spoke about her. anywhere. she’s always been apart of my like private life and i’ve only really told you about her, so it’s just crazy to think that she’s there and she’s safe,” colby explained.

sam agreed, turning the camera so he was now also in frame with colby, “and just to think that my grandma and y/n, who are some of the most important people in our lives, are together. it’s sad but so nice to think and know,”

throughout the week, when satori and cody communicated with abigail, y/n was always there. when satori would ask if any other spirits were there, y/n’s name always popped up.

usually, she didn’t have another message for sam or colby. by every so often, she’d warn the boys about what lurks in the house, wanting to keep the boys safe. but sam and colby being sam and colby of course ignored the warning signs from both abigail and y/n.

ever since the first interaction with y/n, colby had begun opening up to the viewers about y/n and her passing. he’d mentioned her on his social media, sharing that she was the one who gave him the idea to create a channel in the future. she never specified what, but she’d put the idea in his head and he’d forever be grateful for the girl he once knew.

when entering places as the basement and they’d ask for abigail’s protection, he’d quietly mutter to y/n, praying for her to stay by his side.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam and colby #hell week #the conjuring

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lvlyghost · 1 year ago

Note

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

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starlessea2 · 1 year ago

Note

If you still want Astarion requests, I’d love to see something with a Tav who’s really nervous to let Astarion bite? 🥺

Positively Starved (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: In spite of your nerves, you invite Astarion back for a bite; admiring the trust you've put in him, he promises to be gentle (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N I wrote this in under an hour as I wanted to play around with some requests! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these off-the-cuff oneshots! (Also, slight mention of blood in this one).

Masterlist

"You can feed on me tonight... if you'd like."

The words sprung from your mouth. They lingered in the air, each syllable punctuating over and over—ringing out through your shared connection.

You felt a cringe.

Where in the seven hells did that come from? Was one near-death encounter not enough?

Before you could attempt to splutter out any sort of explanation, you were met with Astarion's laugh. "How very generous, my dear! I was starting to wonder when you'd invite me back for a bite."

Blood pooled to your cheeks; you could feel it—see it in the way his eyes turned them a similar, darker shade.

As you ruminated on his words, your heart hammered in your chest. The silence was palpable. But just as you were about to open your mouth to dismiss the idea completely, the man was roused into action.

"You know... I never expected you to be so eager," he finally said. Your embarassment swelled tenfold. "Tell you what, when the others have turned in for the night, I'll come to your bedroll."

Immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You glanced around—far less subtly than you would have hoped. To anyone in earshot, it would have sounded like Astarion was propositioning you.

Well, he was, you quickly realised. Just for blood over sex.

"Right—okay," you stammered back. You hated how weak your voice sounded, so you took a moment to make it stronger. "Come find me later then," you told him, before returning to sifting through your supplies.

You tried to calm your nerves, but as you turned to leave, you did not miss the way Astarion's fangs poked through his grin, nor how his eyes trailed your neck. Your legs almost buckled.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥ ◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥

As night fell, you found yourself, and your bedroll, tucked away in a small stone outhouse on the edge of camp. You'd discovered it earlier in the day, when looting storage boxes for odds and sods. It was cold, and damp—but at least it wasn't dark.

Amber glow lit up the space; you'd illuminated it with a few low-wicked candles as you waited for Astarion. In this warm light, you tried to make yourself comfortable on your bedroll.

"Setting the mood are we?"

Astarion's voice echoed through the outhouse. Although you tried not to acknowledge it, your heart immediately quickened in response—as did your mind race.

Your eyes followed him as he came inside, closing the old oak door behind him. "I must admit, I didn't expect this..." He waved a hand before him, inspecting the dripping candles, and your poor attempts at cleaning the place up.

"How come?" you asked.

His smile sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, aside from me getting a tad carried away the first time we did this... I could also feel your thoughts."

Even in the dim light, you could see his half-lidded expression, as though he was reliving the moment behind tired eyes.

He went on, "Excitement, yes, my dear. But also flighty as a bird."

Your brows furrowed. Part of you felt indignant, craved to prove him wrong by baring your neck without an ounce of apprehension. The other part wondered how he already knew you so well.

You tried to muster a reply, but it was Astarion who spoke first. "As much as I appreciate the offer, you don't have to do this, you know."

In that moment, everything seemed to still. You could only imagine the state of disbelief painted on your face. Throughout your time together, that must have been the most selflessness Astarion had ever strewn into a sentence.

But now was not the time to comment on it.

"I know," you said instead. "And I won't lie to you. I'm not sure exactly why I sought you out."

You sat up and reached for Astarion's hand. Something flashed over his face, but even so, he allowed you to guide him down to your bedroll.

"Perhaps you were right. Perhaps there is a spark of curiosity in me—excitement, even." His eyes widened, set alight by your confession. "Or maybe, and I know you won't like it..."

With a raised brow, he coaxed you, "Go on."

"When you told me about Cazador—" You paused for Astarion scowl, watching the lines materialise on his porcelain skin. "Well, I just thought how horrible it must have been to be constantly..." You sought out the word. "Hungry."

Astarion's lips parted ever so slightly.

Are you hungry? You shared the thought with him.

"Positively starved," came the reply.

Then he leaned in, casting shadows over your candle-lit skin. To any onlooker it might appear he was preparing for a kiss. But you weren't that naive.

"Not—" Your hand found his chest, the exposed skin peeking out of his shirt collar. "Not too much," you whispered.

Your eyes caught his in a silent plea. Astarion answered by taking your hand and pressing it into your bedroll. "No need to worry, my dear," he said, hot against your ear. "I promise to be gentle."

Your breath hitched. That wasn't the first time you'd heard those words spill from his pretty lips; you just hoped he'd be true to his word on this occasion.

You kept your eyes tightly shut as Astarion found your neck. As his fangs scraped your skin, you took a fistful of his hair between your fingers.

He bit down.

You tried not to cry out. The sensation was one you could hardly describe: a sharp sting followed by... euphoria?

No that wasn't right.

But all you could confidently say was that Asatrion's body lay hot over yours, and his lips were soft, but not quite as gentle as promised.

As he drank from you, you saw stars behind your eyes.

Your body thrummed as he suckled on the tender skin of your neck. The sounds he made were nothing short of sinful; they elicited a strained sort of moan from behind your own lips.

You felt Astarion's hand tighten over yours. He took more from you, worrying your skin between his teeth, coaxing more of your gasps to surface.

Pleasure mingled with pain coursed through your shared connection—a deep longing on either end. You cried out, and quickly, Astarion pulled away.

Feeling the loss of warmth, you opened your eyes. You were dazed, but even then, you noticed his cherry-red lips, tinted with your blood.

You blinked, trying to rid your vision of its blurred edges.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Astarion asked. He sat up immediately, inspecting your neck and overall complexion. "You're looking a little... flushed," he concluded.

A tired laugh escaped you. "My blood runs hot," you managed to say.

"Indeed it does," he agreed. Then he promptly stood up and dusted himself off.

A pang of hurt struck you.

It must have been strong enough to have travelled through your shared connection, since Astarion glanced back almost immediately.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, exasperated. "I'm just going to fetch some water. Try not to move until the dizziness passes."

Your mouth fell ajar. A wave of shyness overcame you. Had it been that obvious you wanted him to stay?

Apparently it had, so you tentatively rolled over, hiding your face from the man. "Thank you," you mumbled into your bedroll.

You heard the door creak open, and Astarion's footsteps damper. "No, my dear," he replied. "Thank you."

#astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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batsplat · 21 days ago

Note

Wait what’s the tea on Valentino’s sleep patterns 👀👀 (fellow insomniac / recent motogp fan always looking for more representation)

oh yeah, if you're looking for representation for poor sleeping habits you've very much come to the right place. his sleep patterns are pretty remarkable you have to say. way too nocturnal for a professional athlete, reliant on naps to get through the race weekend, all power to him for somehow making that work and winning all those titles. pretty sure I've read somewhere that he's still known for doing sim races at ungodly hours these days, just how he lives his life

tbh I can't remember off the top of my head where I'd actually read about his sleeping patterns, but I've cobbled together a decent selection of quotes from the usual sources. the most interesting stuff he's said on the topic is in his autobiography - where he goes into rather a lot of detail about his preference for the night. given that it's quite a lengthy passage, I've chucked it under the cut. he frames his nocturnal inclination as not only suiting his natural body clock better, but also as a way of escaping the rest of the world - of being able to move around in peace and silence and anonymity. plus, he liked to spend his nights in the garage to... *pinches bridge of nose* have some special personal time with his bike, when it was just the two of them. take that as you will

before that, let's just start with a few more general descriptions of his sleeping patterns. from early in his career, jerez 1998 (from oxley's vr files):

The camper only holds two people, but that's okay. I don't like my dad to sleep with me, because when it gets to ten o'clock he starts saying: "Vale, Vale, got to bed!", but I can't go to sleep before one or two. We did share a motorhome in '96 and it made life very, very difficult for me.

and about brno 1999 (from oxley's vr files):

On weekends when I'm not racing, I never go to bed before six or seven on Sunday morning. If it's a party, maybe even later, but going to bed at six in the morning is quite normal for me! Even when I was 14 I used to go to bed at 4am. Quite often I'd be riding around the local minimoto tracks until after midnight! If I go to sleep at 11 or 12 I just lie there, my eyes wide open. Maybe I would be good for 24-hour racing!

and then a few years into his premier class career, valentino says the following (x):

'I have a lot of energy after 2am,' Rossi agreed. 'I like to sleep in the morning. I have some problems at the start of the day.'

we've also got a description of crew chief jb's influence in terms of making sure valentino wasn't slacking off by sleeping in (from oxley's vr files):

Burgess' talents aren't restricted to getting the best out of a 500. The Aussie has been in GPs for decades and knows how to extract the best from riders as well. He expects 100 per cent commitment both on the track and in the pits, and when he doesn't get that, he gives 'em hell. Some other crew chiefs won't do that - they're too overawed by their riders' superstardom. JB laid down the law last summer when late-sleeper Rossi turned up late for practice. Rossi suggested that in future one of the crew should be despatched to his motorhome each morning to make sure he was out of bed. No way, said Burgess, I'll be there to give you your wake-up call. Rossi's not overslept since.

and from 2001, in valentino's own words:

Q: Tell us about your sleeping habits, JB has had to wake you a few times for practice... VR: I never go to bed before 1 o'clock, and there's no limit on when I go to bed, but even when I go to sleep very late I always wake up at 8.30, though when I do wake up I always have a big confusion for the first five minutes, then after that I remember: "Oh fuck, I'm at world grand prix!" So I have a shower and then I'm okay. I never get up too close to riding time because the 500 is a dangerous bike so it's necessary to be awake when you climb aboard. Back in the afternoon after practice at four or five o'clock I'll sleep for another hour.

only semi-related but valentino's also talked about... you know, this generational shift - where the sport has become more professionalised, which is reflected in certain lifestyle changes (from barker's rossi biography):

"The next generation is always stronger. They are more professional, they put more effort in, they make a perfect life, they eat in a good way, they don't drink, they go to sleep early, they train every day from the morning to the night... I come from an era where the riders drank beer and smoked cigarettes!"

also plenty of talk of jet lag obviously... doesn't struggle with it too much headed westwards because he says he basically lives on american time anyway. the other direction is tougher, but in his youth he decided that he might as well try to continue living on italian time. so he essentially went racing at 5 in the morning (about phillip island 1998, from oxley's vr files):

I don't have a problem with jet lag, I always sleep. Last year in Indonesia I stayed on Italian time for the whole grand prix - so I was racing at five in the morning! But the difference is too great to do that in Australia.

how on earth are you racing motorcycles like that. mind you, he won that 1997 indonesia race

so yeah. king of disordered sleeping. given the nature of motogp schedules and how they do kind of require you to actually get up in the mornings, congrats to him for being remotely functional during race weekends. crazy how he even won the odd race

and here's the autobiography passage:

My day, usually, begins in the afternoon. It’s as if I exist inside my own personal time zone. I live at night, because I love the night. Now, this might make you think I do goodness-knows-what in the wee hours, or that I don’t live the life of a professional athlete. It’s true, I don’t live the life of an athlete in the traditional sense — early to bed, early to rise and all that — but this does not mean that I’m not careful about what I eat and drink or that I don’t train. In fact, I train a lot, both in the gym and on the bike. It’s just that I go to the gym in the afternoon, rather than the morning. Equally, when I’m training on the bike, down at the quarry, I always go in the afternoon, never at nine o'clock in the morning. My body has a certain type of metabolism. It is used to living according to a different body clock. That’s why, even if I’m travelling all over the world, I don’t experience jet lag and I rarely go to bed before 3 a.m. It’s much more likely that I’m just tucking into bed as people are leaving for work. As I say, I have a special relationship with the night. I like moving in it, living in it, thinking in it, relaxing in it. The night fascinates me, because it’s the period of least confusion. The world calms down, it goes quiet. And, besides, I’m Valentino Rossi. I’m wanted... I'm a fugitive. Yes, I’m always running away from my _ beloved countrymen. The Italians. I’m proud to be Italian, I'm proud of our merits and I regret our shortcomings. Italians are exceptional people. In every way. Even when they start loving you. Because that’s actually when problems can arise — if it’s you that the Italian falls in love with. Italian people are warm, empathetic, spontaneous. But they can also be excessive, oppressive and disrespectful. I don’t know who said that Italians will forgive everything except for success. Whoever it was, they were right. Because it’s absolutely true. After the 1997 season, I could tell I was becoming popular. Year after year, that popularity turned into fully fledged love. They’re in love with me now and, as a result, since the 2004 season, I’ve been a man on the run. And there’s no escape, no end in sight, because wherever I go they find me. There are simple things, the little pleasures in life, which I simply can’t engage in when I’m back in Italy. I can’t go to the bar and have a cappuccino, because I would not be able to drink it. To be fair, I can do it in Tavullia, but that's the only place. If I go more than a few kilometres in any direction from the centre of town, that's it, everything changes and I become, once again, a hunted man. I can’t walk into a store, look at something and decide what I want to buy. In fact, I can’t stop anywhere, not even at a petrol station. If I stop, I’m screwed. Somebody will recognise me (Italians are exceptionally good at recognising people), make a lot of noise, call other people and then, before I know it, I’ve been swallowed up by the crowd. If I schedule a meeting with someone, we have to meet in a secret, out-of-the-way location and, even then, we can't linger. I can't go to a restaurant if there are too many people inside. And if I do go, I can't go at a normal time, say eight o'clock. I have to go later, much later, when people are leaving. And I can't sit where I like, I have to hide away in a corner, in the shadows. As for places like cinemas or the beach, forget about it. They are just always off-limits.

Having said that, I do mix with people. I do it because I like doing it. It’s just that I wish I could do it as a normal person, because, deep down, I am a normal human being. This is part of the reason why I have to live at night. It would be that much tougher during the day, with all those people about. Plus, I don’t like the traffic, the chaos, the noise, all those people running all over the place, stressed out and out of breath. The night is different. Everything is softer, there are fewer people around and you are much more free. It’s like a parallel dimension. The world is different at night. Everything is different. That’s why I’ve assimilated the lyrics of a song by the Italian artist Jovanotti, “Gente. della notte” (“People of the night”). It has become my personal anthem. Jovanotti is one of my favourite singers and I find myself agreeing with him on most things. I love his work. What else can I say? The night is my reality. And I don’t change just because Grands Prix are scheduled during the day. My way of being and living is reflected in what I do during races. I don’t really change. Obviously, I don’t go to bed at dawn, but let’s just say that when I do, finally, go to bed, there aren’t many people around. Everything is better at night in the paddock. There is silence, the people _ have disappeared and, with them, the chaos. I can wander around freely, most of all I can enjoy the empty pit area and my bike. Yes, my bike. Because at night I often slip into the team garage. At some races I do it every single night, because I love being with my bike. My night-time activities can be traced back to the years racing in 125cc, and are directly tied to my passion for aesthetics and the stickers, which would later become my obsession. I don’t leave anything to chance'when it comes to choosing the colour or the stickers for my bike. That’s why I’ve always been central to any and all discussions when we were deciding the aesthetics of my racing bikes. I’ve done it always, with every bike, at every level, with every team. And, naturally, I still do it today. Nobody has ever been allowed to attach a single sticker to my bike, unless it was the logo of a technical sponsor. Until a few years ago I was totally inflexible about this. Now, Roby takes care of the number: he attaches it because then he needs to cover it in transparent paint. But apart - from -this, which is primarily a technical procedure anyway, I take care of everything else to do with the stickers. And this takes time and planning, which is why I started going to the garage at night. During the day it is packed with people. There are mechanics, technicians and others around. I would just get in the way, if I wanted to get near the bike just to check the stickers. As I got older and progressed from 125 to 250 and then to 500 and on to MotoGP, I maintained that passion for aesthetics and stickers, as well as the habit of dropping in on the team garage at night. I enjoy the bike during the day _ obviously, but my relationship with the bike is so special that I can spend hours with it, just looking and admiring it, making sure that everything is in order. Those are very personal moments which I find difficult to describe. The Japanese guys, both the executives but also the engineers never knew this, not the guys at Honda, not the ones at Yamaha. I don’t think they would really understand. They would probably view it as a waste of time, since I don’t actually do anything concrete. I never touch anything to do with the bike itself, beyond, obviously, the stickers. And yet I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. It’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy.

During the day everything happens so quickly, frenetically, neurotically. However, there is a sacrosanct moment when I need to step away and isolate myself. Once my commitment to the team is over, usually around 5.30 p.m., I retire to my motorhome, relax and take a nap. It usually lasts a couple hours and then I go out. There’s always something to do after dinner. Of course, the range of options depends on how many friends are around. I really start enjoying the paddock around ten o'clock at night. Before going to sleep I check on the bike again and then I go into the team motorhome, which serves as an office. Now that I’m at Yamaha, I have an office all to myself. That’s where I keep all my race gear. I do this for two reasons. My own personal motorhome is an absolute mess, nothing more fits in there and I probably couldn’t find anything amid all the junk. Plus, the office is where I change into my racing suit before going out on to the track. Thus, at night, after going to the pits to see the bike, I go to make sure that all my stuff is where it should be: gloves, suit, socks, boots . . . everything needs to be perfect, because I just don’t have time in the morning to hunt around for stuff. Thus, each morning I have to follow a very precise routine. I’m like a robot, everything is the same each day. Because the truth is that I need to be like clockwork. I just don’t have the time to think. Somebody generally comes to wake me up — usually it’s Jeremy, because he doesn’t trust my ability to wake up on my own! I then get up, wash my face (my eyes are still shut at this point) and try to stay awake as I ride the scooter from the motorhome to the pits. I then go up to the office and get dressed. There too everything is done mechanically. It takes the slightest hiccup to throw everything off, forcing me to be late to the testing.

"I find it hard to explain to an engineer that I enjoy simply being near the bike, even when I’m not doing anything. it’s a complicated concept to explain: the risk is that people will think that you're crazy" well -

#some of you lot really should be making more use of -#- the line 'because that's actually when problems can arise - if it's you that the italian falls in love with'#//#brr brr #clown tag #batsplat responds #i can also remember a post-retirement interview where he was up early to watch the motogp race and was suffering? can't find it though #im on the other side of the generational shift on this... the idea of approaching professional sport like that makes me twitchy #like so much of it these days is controlling every controllable variable perfect optimisation and all that. this feels so casual!!#and is honestly one of the things that makes his longevity the most impressive. one hell of a change to have to make mid career

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hollowed-theory-hall · 3 months ago

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We don't talk enough about Ron's mean streak

Like, I saw a lot of people talk about how funny Ron is (which is true, he's genuinely one of the funnier characters in the series), how loyal he is when it counts, he's brave as hell, and he is really smart, just not book smart. But what I don't see talked about enough (maybe it's just me though), is Ron Weasley's mean streak.

I talked about how Harry most definitely has what it takes to be a Slytherin, can be scary, and is willing to kill when push comes to shove. I also mentioned Hermione's ruthlessness, but I didn't discuss Ron's mean streak which is a joy when I see it crop up in the book. When it comes up, it always reminds me of the twins, and I feel like that's where Ron got it from.

So I'm just going to bring up a few quotes I had in my notes showing Ron's mean streak, I'm sure I missed some from the earlier books, but I find it a fun aspect of his character.

Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. “Do you think he’s all right?” she squealed through her fingers. “Who cares?” said Harry and Ron together.

(CoS, 178)

This type of reaction is seen with Ron pretty often. He really doesn't care when someone he dislikes is hurt or injured and he is very vocal about it. He and Harry kinda share this trait, as seen above.

Later in the other quotes I bring up, I show that Hermione is the one usually playing morality police for Ron and Harry even if she herself isn't as innocent as she likes to act.

He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!” The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron!” he shouted. “Are you okay? Ron!” “I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand —” There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

(CoS, 280)

I love this, Lockhart explodes the cave, obliviates himself, and Ron's reaction is to kick him in the shins. I don't know, I just find it hilarious.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. “Why not?” said Hermione in surprise. “Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .” Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. “He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —” “Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, “you’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

(GoF, 207)

Here you see Hermione the morality police crop up, but I'm talking about Ron here.

Hermione is definitely right in that Draco could've been seriously hurt, but Ron is just glad he saw Malfoy suffering. Actually, in the scene before it, Ron was the one who wanted to curse Malfoy and was held back by Harry and Hermione (as well as in the eat slugs situation in CoS), like, with as much as Harry calls Draco his nemesis, it really feels like Ron is the one that hates Draco and thinks of him as his nemesis.

“She’s an awful woman [Umbridge],” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

(OotP, 324)

I love you, Ron.

This is one of my favorite quotes for him. Hermione shuts down the poison idea, but I think they should've given it a shot, I think it could've been fun.

It would've been cathartic for them at least.

“You take Remedial Potions?” asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the entrance hall after lunch. “Good Lord, you must be terrible, Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?” As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him. “Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,” he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith’s shoulder blades. “Forget it,” said Harry dismally. “It’s what everyone’s going to think, isn’t it? That I’m really stup —”

(OotP, 528)

I love how Ron always has Harry's back and is ready to fight anyone (including Sirius who he thought was a mass murderer when he was 13 with a broken leg) for Harry's sake. It's a real vibe the Golden Trio has that they're just ready to drop everything and curse out anyone for each other's sake. They are just so protective of each other and I love this for them, how they are all just each other's people, yk.

It's also another example of how Ron is the one of the trio that offers violence as the answer the most often.

“Reparo!” said Hermione quickly, mending Ron’s cup with a wave of her wand. “That’s all very well, but what if Montague’s permanently injured?” “Who cares?” said Ron irritably, while his teacup stood drunkenly again, trembling violently at the knees. “Montague shouldn’t have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he? If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!”

(OotP, 679)

Again Ron doesn't care for the injury of people who he considers deserving.

“Madam Pomfrey says she’s just in shock,” whispered Hermione. “Sulking, more like,” said Ginny. “Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this,” said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.

(OotP, 849)

Like, regardless of whether Umbridge was SAed or not (for the record, I don't think she was) it's not a nice thing to do. Umbridge is awful, but this is Ron literally spreading salt on the wound. but like I mentioned above, she's in the "deserving it" category.

“will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She’s driving me mad as well.” “Oh,” said Ron, looking sheepish. “Yeah. All right.” “If you don’t want to go out with her anymore, just tell her,” said Harry.

(HBP, 411)

That is honestly so mean. Like, I'm not Lavender's biggest fan, I find her annoying, but she's a teenage girl in her maybe first relationship and she did nothing really wrong. I feel truly sorry for her for how Ron treated her, it wasn't really her fault. It's just mean that he pretends to sleep instead of talking to her.

“Same as he wanted at Christmas,” shrugged Harry. “Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry’s new poster boy.” Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, “Look, let me go back and hit Percy!” “No,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm. “It’ll make me feel better!”

(HBP, 650)

Like, this is peak sibling behavior, but as I mentioned earlier, Ron tends to want to resort to violence more often than Harry and Hermione do (especially in the earlier books, as Harry does grow angrier after Sirius' death). He is usually the one to bring violence up, and I find it an interesting aspect of his character.

And Ron is correct in the fact hitting Percy would make him feel better. Not saying if it's the right thing to do, but Ron really would experience it as satisfying because Percy would deserve it in his mind.

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head.

(DH, 167)

As I mentioned in one of the Harry posts, Harry is calling the shots, but Ron is the one who offered to kill the Death Eaters. He put that idea on the table. He was relieved when Harry said they shouldn't kill them, but if Harry said it'd be better if they killed them — Ron would've backed him up and done it, while Hermione might've preferred to pretend it wasn't happening.

“That treacherous old bleeder.” Ron panted, emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry. “Hermione you’re a genius, a total genius. I can’t believe we got out of that.” “Cave Inimicum. . . Didn’t I say it was an Erumpent horn, didn’t I tell him? And now his house has been blown apart!” “Serves him right,” said Ron, examining his torn jeans and the cuts to his legs, “What’d you reckon they’ll do to him?” “Oh I hope they don’t kill him!” groaned Hermione, “That’s why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn’t been lying!”

(DH, 424)

Again, Ron not caring/enjoying when people who deserve it suffer. Xenophilius wanted to help them, he tried to persuade them not to come into his home at first so he wouldn't give them in, he tried so hard even though the Death Eaters had his daughter! Harry rightly feels bad for Xenophilius and Luna, it's easy to understand why he did what he did.

Hermione and Harry hope he is fine, but Ron is the one who thinks he has it coming. That he deserves to have his house blown up for betraying them, regardless of his reasoning.

I think Ron is the most black-and-white in his thoughts about people among the trio. There are those who deserve anything that comes to them and those who don't. Specific circumstances and context don't really play a part in what bad people deserve coming to them.

I don't know, I just find this interesting.

Harry has the compassion to understand people, even ones who harmed him or the people he cares about, he is capable of forgiving Voldemort and never really hated Draco.

Hermione is pretty black-and-white in her view of people, having the people she trusts and those she doesn't. She trusts Snape because he's an authority figure trusted by Dumbledore (and Hermione is the one who is truly Dumbledore's woman true and true in the books). Her view on people has less to do with their actions, but who they are endorsed by. She is compassionate to Xenophilius because he's Luna's dad, and Luna is good, therefore, she wouldn't love someone who is bad.

Ron is black-and-white in how he sees people in a very different way than Hermione. He looks at actions, and if you do anything to try and harm him or people he cares about, you get on the shit list. Getting out of Ron's shit list is probably not easy, he doesn't strike me as one who forgives easily and readily the way Harry does, but he does forgive. Like actions can get you on his shit list, actions can get you out. But once a person is on the shit list, they deserve any harm that comes their way.

But Ron is really loyal, and there are people he loves who are basically immune from going on the shit list (like his family, yes, even Percy. While he wants to hit him, I don't believe Ron ever really wished death on Percy). And there is just something interesting about Ron, with his mean streak and everything, being the glue that holds the trio together. Like, in Deathly Hallows once he leaves, Harry and Hermione barely talk to each other, they are barely friends without Ron there.

I don't know, I just love Ron. I love how he is loyal, and friendship glue, but has just as much of a mean streak to him as Harry and Hermione can pull. I just feel like he's sometimes left out of the discussion of how ruthless Harry and Hermione could be. Like, it's true, both of them can be ruthless, but don't leave Ron out. He can be ruthless and actually offers violence as a solution more often than Harry or Hermione do.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #hollowedtheory #harry potter meta #golden trio #ron weasley

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bruhnze · 3 months ago

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Personal Records 2 - Ona Battle x Lucy Bronze

Part 1 here.

Thank you to: anon , anon, anon, anon, anon for inspirations.

Summary: This is in an alternative universe where Ona and Lucy are not footballers. Lucy is a personal trainer, Ona is a buisnesswoman.

Wordcount: 13K of wordsss (big big one) And sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations :( semi proofread!

Warnings: Minors DNI, little bit of angst, suggestive + smutty scenes. A bit of bickering back and forth, Ona being the ultimate spoilt little bitch, but i promise she gets nicer eventualy, at the end of the day she's just a hurt little baby 🥺

Last sentence part 1: ‘’Not here’’ Lucy said as she broke the kiss, ‘’come home with me’’.

Personal Records 2.

Tuesday night – streets of London

They stepped outside and Lucy nudged for Ona to come with her.

‘’No cab?’’ Ona asked.

Lucy shook her head amused and walked until they stood infront of a small ally way, ‘’in here, come’’.

‘’Ew, smells like piss’’ Ona said, scrunching up her nose.

Lucy shook her head with an amuzed chuckle.

A few meters into the ally way Lucy opened the garage door.

‘’Don’t tell me this is your house’’ Ona said without leaving the disgust out of her voice.

‘’Ofcourse not princess’’ Lucy laughed and pulled Ona inside. The Catalan was met with a big dark space.

Lucy flicked on a light, a few cars and a few motorcycles that were standing around got lit up, but besides that the space was pretty empty besides that.

‘’Are these yours?’’ Ona said.

Lucy shook her head in disbelieve, ‘’no, the business owners in this street came together to rent this garage so the parking spot infront of our businesses were empty and also, parking there costs way more than sharing this’’. She walked further into the garage and pushed a button somewhere, on the other side of the space started to appear light. A garage door rolled open.

‘’So which is yours?’’.

Lucy grinned as she dug through a cabin, she pulled out an old helmet, she was pleased that she had remembered leaving it here after she was gifted a new one by a client.

‘’Here ya go’’ Lucy said as she handed the dusty thing to Ona.

Ona grimaced ‘’I’m not wearing—wait, do you drive a motorcycle!’’.

‘’You bet’’, Lucy grinned as she took her tank top out of her gym bag, ‘’here I’ll wipe it down for you’’ she offered as she took the helmet back. Ona shook her head, what was this woman thinking, wiping dust away with a sweaty shirt, as if that made anything better.

Just as she thought things couldn’t get worse Lucy spoke again, ‘’you'll need to wear both our bags, because otherwise we won’t fit’’. Ona grumbled, but she couldn’t contradict the woman, as it was a true fact that it would be hard for her to hold onto Lucy if there was a big bag inbetween them.

‘’I can just take a cab and meet you there’’ Ona said.

Lucy laughed, ‘’I won’t give you my address, so if you want to come, you need to come with me’’.

‘’You’re just making that up to control what I do’’ Ona said, ‘’forcing me to come on a motorcycle’’.

‘’No one is forcing anything, you can go home you know’’ Lucy grinned, ‘’but by your excitement when you learned I have a motorcycle I think you don’t think it is as bad as you make it seem’’.

‘’You talk too much, we could’ve been halfway through London an hour ago’’ Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’and you know I already got your address’’.

‘’What the hell?’’ Lucy said laughingly as she looked at Ona weird, ‘’do you have private investigators working for you?’’.

Ona shook her head and chuckled, ‘’let’s go Bronze’’.

Lucy nodded and walked over to the bike she owned, on it layed her leather jacket and hanging from the handlebar she took her own helmet.

Ona swallowed hard as Lucy put her bag down and swinged her jacket on, ´´isn´t it too hot for that´´ she remarked.

The Catalan thought Lucy looked incredibly attractive like this, she wore white sneakers, jeans, a white T and the brown leather jacket, but what Ona maybe liked most were the little nose ring and the gold chain the woman wore.

´´You calling me hot?’’ Lucy asked with a grin, ‘’come on, get over here’’.

The Catalan rolled her eyes as she walked over to Lucy and her bike, ‘’big talk for such a whiny little bitch’' Ona said. She caught a little glimpse of a smile before Lucy put the helmet on her head. When she had it on, she reached out to help.

‘’I am not a little bitch’’ Lucy said as she tightened the chin strap of the helmet, ‘’I can squat you two times’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’exactly, you’re a little bitch because you get your worthiness out of made up achievements’’.

A chuckle sounded from Lucy’s helmet, ‘’made up, ha ha, those achievements are very much real’’ she turned to Ona, ‘’and all earned by myself, from scratch’’ she emphasized the last part.

‘’Sure I had an advantage’’ Ona said rolling her eyes, ‘’but I still put the work in to use it to the fullest’’.

Lucy took her bag from the floor and put it on Ona’s shoulder, opposite of her own bag. ‘’I’m sure anyone in your position would be able to build a business’’ Lucy said.

Ona shook her head amused, ‘’no, there’s actually living proof that that’s not true, my brother parties in Ibiza all year round’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’oh yeah? Well, I bet he is way chiller to hang around with’’, she said as she pushed her motor cycle off the standard ‘’or is he a stuck up bitch too?’’.

Ona couldn’t believe her ears, with any other person she would’ve already have come up with six different plans to ruin their lives, but with this woman here, her urge to get on that bike and sit against her only got bigger and bigger with every comment.

Lucy walked with her bike to the garage door she had just opened, ‘’put of the light, will ya’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, getting her to carry the bags, letting her put off the lights, what an annoying bitch.

But instead of complaining she went to the light switch and flicked it off, and started walking back to Lucy, because she wanted needed to get to the bitches house a.s.a.p.

The English woman took place on her bike and with her tiptoes she guided her vehicle outside. Ona quickened her pace, afraid Lucy was leaving her.

Lucy turned and stood now sideways infront of the garage, Ona recognized by her eyes that she was grinning, even though she couldn’t see her mouth, ‘’what?’’ she said snappily.

‘’On the inside of the door is a button, hit that and quickly go under the door’’ Lucy instructed after which she shut her visor.

‘’No way’’ Ona said as she looked around to spot the button, but she hit it and ducked to go under the door, anyways. It was less dramatic then she’d expected, the door went down fairly slow, but she didn’t like that Lucy made her do all this stuff.

The loud sound of a starting engine filled Ona’s ears, even though they were covered by the helmet it was deafening. She stepped closer but hesitated when Lucy started revving. Lucy turned her head, ‘’HOP ON’’ she yelled.

Ona sat on the back of the motorcycle with the two bags crisscrossed on her back. She felt badass as she held on to Lucy who propelled them through the dim streets of London. Ona would never admit it but she was mesmerized by Lucy's scent that hung in the helmet, it smelt like her hair did. The only thing she didn´t like about this little adventure was Lucy´s whimpery driving, she followed the rules perfectly and didn´t even go the speed limit, she went slower.

Lucy slowed down and Ona was pleased to see they were in a -nicer then she’d expected- part of London. Ona knew this area, the houses were old, beautiful, but old, in her opinion you should only buy a house here if you the funds to renovate properly, otherwise it was a waste.

The building they stopped infront looked nice, it was well taken care of. Lucy put her feet on the ground and got her phone from her pocket, in a few seconds a garage door started to open.

They stayed seated like that for a couple of seconds, Ona sat not knowing what to do, until Lucy tapped her thigh. She quickly -but carefully- got of the bike and saw Lucy rolling the vehicle inside while she kept sitting on it.

After Lucy had opened the front door the pair stepped inside.

‘’Ahh, I know how you know my address’’ Lucy chuckled to herself as she walked through the hallway and saw the four shoe boxes standing on top of eachother, ‘’I texted it to you’’.

‘’I applaud you Sherlock, I must say I’m intimidated by your attention to detail’’ Ona said as she took of her shoes and walked further into the house as if she knew the way.

Lucy rolled her eyes ‘’yeah welcome in’’ she sarcastically said.

Ona quickly inspected the place, she was surprised to see the same style used here as in the gym, which meant it was Lucy’s taste. She didn’t like that she liked Lucy’s house, that the woman had a beautiful and properly renovated house in the middle of London, with a garden. It would get to close to being relationship material, and she didn’t participated in those anymore. Luckily the place had a shit view and the kitchen was horrific, so it wasn’t like Lucy was perfect.

The Catalan turned back around after her brief inspection and was met with a smiling Lucy, ‘’No snarky comments from property princess?’’ Lucy taunted as she walked to the other side of the kitchen island Ona was standing at, ‘’does that mean she approves?’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’who did your renovation?’’.

Lucy grinned, ‘’oh it was very expensive, a very skillful person worked on this’’.

‘’One person?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Well, they had a bit of help here and there, but mostly one person yes, they did it in evening hours’’ Lucy said, ‘’is it done well?’’.

‘’Yes’’ Ona said as she nodded, ‘’horrific kitchen though’’.

‘’what wrong with the kitchen?’’ Lucy snapped.

‘’It’s ugly’’. ‘’I can see that it was placed with good craftsmanship, but it does not fit this house’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’waste of potential’’.

Lucy let out a breathy chuckle, ‘’well if you ever need someone to do your renovations, you can always ask me, but I guess I’d leave the decoration choices over to someone else then’’.

‘’No I like the way you did your gym, and the rest of your place, what I have seen, is allright too, just the kitchen’’ Ona said as she tried not to imagine Lucy in a tank top slamming walls, laying pipes or anything else that only she could make look sexy. Damn, did she really renovate this on her own.

‘’Thank you’’ Lucy said, ‘’that was my first time ever designing anything, but I learned a lot from it, like-

Ona cut her off, ‘’the four showers’’.

Lucy looked at her and tilted her head, ‘’yeah’’.

‘’You would’ve made the shower part smaller and put the lockers in the dressing rooms?’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’wow, that’s actually a great idea’’.

‘’You didn’t think that?’’.

‘’No I was only thinking that it was weird to have 4 dressing rooms with 4 showers, while we have 2 gym rooms, which are only used for one-on-one or one-on-two sessions’’.

Ona shrugged, ‘’well it is what it is now’’.

‘’Yeah’’ Lucy said as she opened a cupboard, ‘’water?’’ she asked, ‘’or anything else?’’.

‘’Water is fine, sparkling if you have it, otherwise flat will do’’.

As they were both standing with a glass of sparkling water in their hands Lucy broke the silence, ‘’would you know the complete layout of this house right now, like in your head?’’.

‘’With upstairs too?’’ Ona asked.

‘’Mhmm’’.

‘’If you haven’t done any crazy wall changes I think I do’’.

‘’Have you sold in this area?’’.

Ona nodded, ‘’I did, but only because I had a client who wanted to buy something here, I wouldn’t do it voluntarily’’.

‘’Do you not like the neighborhood?’’ Lucy asked before taking another sip.

The Catalan shook her head, ‘’buildings are way to close to eachother for such low buildings, you have 3 floors, no view, from every window you see brick’’.

‘’Or my garden’’.

‘’Okay from the living room you look on to your post stamp of green’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’at least I have a garden’’.

Ona closed her eyes and thought, ‘’I have 7, no 8 gardens, I think’’ ‘’I don’t know if I like my garden in Italia or Vilassar de Mar the most’’.

‘’Oh right’’ Lucy said, completely humbled, she almost forgot the reason this woman was they way she was.

‘’I didn’t think a garden in London was worth it’’ Ona said, ‘’rather had the view’’.

‘’I see’’ Lucy nodded at the woman as if she didn’t just had said the most out of touch thing she’d ever heard.

‘’But feel free to give me a tour upstairs’’ Ona said as it was taking too long for her liking, ‘’if you want my predictions, I think you don’t use the highest floor much, one room with junk, one room with laundry and one with a guest room, then I think you have turned two bedrooms in one for your own bedroom, with an on-suite bathroom’’ she eyed Lucy up ‘’and you are crazy enough to have the remaining room, not as an office’’ she started Lucy in the eyes, ‘’but as a home gym’’.

Lucy’s jaw dropped open, ‘’that is not even one of the skills that a real estate agent or architect has’’ she said in disbelieve.

‘’This one has’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’so am I right?’’.

‘’Yeah, well, I have two guest rooms, but they are on the highest floor, but everything else is correct, how did you do that?’’

Ona shook her head as her sight fell on a couple of family photo’s, ‘’ofcourse 2 guest rooms, for your family’’. ‘’but where do you keep your junk then?’’.

Lucy laughed, ‘’in closets in the guestrooms’’.

‘’Fair enough’’ Ona said, ‘’and the home gym was true’’.

‘’If I don’t feel like driving to the office, I have one at home’’ she offered.

‘’Crazy’’ Ona remarked.

‘’Dedicated’’.

Ona pushed Lucy against the wall as soon as they had both walked up the stairs for a ‘tour of upstairs’.

Air escaped Lucy’s chest as she hadn’t expected Ona to make this sudden move, ‘’jeez’’ she breathed out, ‘’give a girl a warning’’.

A dirty smirk appeared on Ona’s mouth, ‘’you’re taking too long’’.

Lucy used her strength and easily flipped them, making her the one pinning Ona against the wall.

Ona leaned in to kiss the English woman but she leaned back, ‘’taking too long for what princess?’’ she teased, ‘’you are the one hindering our tour’’.

‘’You’’ Ona huffed out, ‘’need to stop talking’’.

‘’And do what?’’ Lucy said as she let her lips ghost over Ona’s.

The Catalan squirmed as she tried to catch the other woman’s mouth with her own, a frustrated huff of air left her nose when she felt Lucy pull back after the slightest touch. Just this brush of their lips made Ona unable to think clear anymore, Lucy’s soft lips, the way her sent surrounded her as they stood so close. The strong, warm hands on her biceps, pushing her against the white wall, she couldn’t take it anymore.

‘’Lucy’’ she said, trying to sound as pulled together as possible, ‘’just kiss me’’.

The English woman smiled, ‘’I don’t know if you deserve it’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’hurt by a couple of stupid jokes?’’.

‘’No’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’I tend to share the bed with more, better behaved woman’’.

The Catalan relaxed her muscles and stopped fighting the restraint.

Lucy loosened her grip on the woman, a little thinking she had said something wrong, but more curious about what Ona was going to say.

‘’Well, then I better go’’ Ona said reserved, ‘’I don't adapt, people adapt to me’’.

Lucy grinned and leaned back against Ona, not holding her tight as she wanted to give the woman the opportunity to go if she really wished, ‘’I don’t know’’ she whispered in Ona’s ear, ‘’wouldn’t you say please if it would mean I’d kiss you?’’ she traced her bottom lip along Ona’s neck. Then she moved to the other side of Ona’s head, ‘’just one simple word’’ she whispered, ‘’say please and I’ll do what you want’’ with that she placed a line of ever so soft kisses in the shorter woman’s neck, she grinned as she felt the woman get goose bumps.

Lucy pulled back to read Ona’s face, when she recognized she almost had her, she took Ona’s hand and slipped it under her t-shirt, placing it with an open palm on her solid abs, ‘’just one word’’ she said softly, making intense eye contact with the shorter woman.

‘’A la merda’’ Ona grumbled but sighed to oblige, ‘’please kiss me’’ she said with an eyeroll.

‘’See’’ Lucy leaned in, ‘’I’ll teach you right’’ she kissed Ona softly. But Ona didn’t have any of it, she quickly deepened the kiss and pushed them off the wall.

‘’Bedroom’’ she said as she broke the kiss for as short as possible, before crashing in to the English woman again.

Lucy lifted Ona with ease and carried her towards her bed.

She climbed on it with Ona still around her and laid the woman on her back in the middle of the bed with her on top.

Their kiss was filthy, their open mouths mushed against each other as if it were their first meal after 20 years of starvation, Lucy couldn’t help but groan at the way she tasted, she could kiss her for hours.

Ona’s hands started wondering below Lucy’s t-shirt, she pulled on it, signaling she needed her to take it off.

When Lucy pulled away to quickly take it off, Ona took her own blouse off.

In their bras they continued their make out session, Ona’s hand found Lucy’s head and she buried her fingers in her dark strands of hair.

The heat Lucy had experienced during the sex they had in the showers not even an hour ago was back, she had wanted to take Ona home to have her way with her properly, the way she’s was acting like such a fucking brat was just begging to be fucked good.

Lucy broke the kiss and shifted her attention to Ona's throat, sternum and collar bone, marking her with open mouthed kisses, ‘’have you ever been fucked with a strap?’’ Lucy asked against Ona’s skin.

It took a few seconds before Ona answered, ‘’yeah, why’re you asking, just because I’m young?’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’no, age has nothing to do with this and you’re not even that young’’ Lucy said as a grin tugged on her mouth because she was about get Ona crazy, ‘’you’re just acting as if you’ve never had a good fuck’’.

Ona’s mouth dropped open, ‘’I have’’ she huffed.

‘’Oh yeah? And ours didn’t count by the way’’ Lucy smirked, ‘’or did you mean by that stiff rake Evelyn?’’, ‘’did she make you cum as fast as me?’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, but secretly this talk from Lucy turned her on immensely, ‘’yes’’.

‘’Yeah did she make you cum on her tongue just as easily as I did’’ Lucy got closer to Ona, ‘’I can’t believe her being that good’’ she emphasized her words by rolling her hips.

‘’Oh please’’ Ona rolled her eyes again, ‘’you’re not that good either, and you also used your fingers’’.

‘’Didn’t have to’’ Lucy simply said, ‘’that was just for my own fun’’ she added in a low voice.

With those words Ona could literally feel a pulsation between her legs, fuck she needed that woman, and she needed it now.

‘’Why are you being such a bitch?’’ Ona asked as Lucy was hovering over her, her hips sensually grinding in to her.

‘’Why are you being such a bitch?’’ Lucy said as she was being straddled by Ona, crossing her legs around her.

‘’No you are nice by heart, I can tell you act’’ Ona said in a thoughtful voice and with her gaze on the English woman's eyes as if she could read all of her thoughts.

‘’Well I wont let people walk all over me, if you act like a brat I’ll respond to you that way’’ she said, narrowing her eyes.

‘’Why bother if you don’t like my attitude’’ Ona said, also narrowing her eyes.

‘’Your hot’’ Lucy simply said, ‘’why do you bother?’’.

‘’Same reason’’ Ona answered with a smirk.

Lucy rolled her eyes, ‘’you can’t even say it out loud? It’s a shame that pretty little body of yours is filled with such a shit personality’’.

Ona rolled her eyes as well, "I can say it, you are hot’’ she stated, "but what would the difference be?".

Lucy grinned, "yeah you wouldn’t know, would you’’ she lowered herself to whisper in Ona’s ear ‘’but it’s actually decent human interaction".

Ona huffed out air in frustration, "I don’t know why you annoy me so much".

"Because I don’t take your shit".

Ona shook her head amused, ‘’no it’s not that, it was rhetorical I do know why’’.

‘’Why then’’.

Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I said it in the showers, but I get you’re slow so I’ll repeat myself, I can’t temper my physical attraction towards you’’ Ona said, ‘’but I know the reason, it’s because I haven’t had sex in a long time and you’re just the first hot person I have encountered in a long time’’.

Lucy looked at Ona weird, ‘’you-

Ona interrupted her, ‘’don’t tell me I haven’t been clear with you, and I thought we were on the same page, hell I even thought you were even more amazing after you felt the same way as me and agreed’’.

Lucy broke out in a chuckle, ‘’I do agree, I would never date someone like you, I just, I expected someone I have sex with to be nice to me, but I guess that’s not the way you see things’’.

If Ona would be completely honest with herself, she knew that she was just being a bitch to sabotage their chances of ever getting closer then to just sleep with eachother. She couldn’t develop feelings, she never wanted another relationship in her life, people just screw you over.

She sighed deeply and uncrossed her legs around Lucy, giving her space to sit away, which she did. Ona pushed herself up and sat against the headboard ‘’I feel like we need to set some ground rules, because I would like for us to continue sleeping with eachother and I want to keep training with you too’’.

‘’Yeah good idea’’, lucy said with a grin, but she swallowed the comment she was about to make as she appreciated Ona’s normal communication, and finally said a sentence without a snarky comment.

Ona sighed, ‘’what did you want to say?’’.

‘’Okay’’ lucy said, ‘’it’s a bit oversimplified, but I wanted to propose’’ she shook her head with a laugh ‘’you are nice to me and I’ll fuck you’’.

‘’Okay’’ Ona simply agreed after a few seconds of silence, ‘’deal’’.

‘’Okay, that’s it?’’ Lucy asked surprised.

‘’I just want to have sex with you’’ Ona replied, ‘’I can be nice to you’’.

A small cheeky smile appeared on Lucy’s face.

Ona rolled her eyes and pushed Lucy’s face. The taller woman pretended Ona had pushed her over with the small motion and dropped on her back, pulling Ona with her. The Catalan chuckled as she laid on top of Lucy, ‘’I think you looked badass riding your motor’’ Ona said, as her first act of niceness.

A big smile took over Lucy’s face, ‘’see, this is so much better, I already enjoy this a hundred times more’’.

Ona rolled her eyes but laughed, ‘’but you drove a bit like a pussy’’.

‘’I knew it was to good to be true’’ Lucy said with a smile as she rolled them both over and started kissing Ona’s neck, making her squirm and scream of the ticklishness.

Wednesday 02:00 am – Ona’s penthouse

As Ona was laying in her big bed in her penthouse, after dealing with the stupid joked Sophia had attacked her with, she caught herself smiling at the ceiling. She shook her head and pulled herself together, trying not to thing about the way Lucy was so amazing Lucy, and go to sleep.

Thursday evening – Ona’s penthouse

Ona had ordered takeout, but Sophia had ditched her last minute for a date she wanted to go on. Ona didn't want to eat alone, and to be fair, it would be a waste to have to throw away half of it, so she had texted Lucy explaining her situation.

@ Lucy: aw did she leave you alone to get laid

@ Ona Batlle: yeah

@ Lucy: why does it sound a little familiar

@ Ona Batlle: ha ha ha

@ Ona Batlle: now do you have dinner plans or not?

@ Lucy: what happened to our 'being nice' agreement

@ Ona Batlle: Lucy do you want to eat dinner with me?

Ona sended the text with a heavy eyeroll, hoping Lucy could feel it at the other end of the screen.

@ Lucy: you rolled your eyes didn't you 😂

She chuckled at her screen.

@ Ona Batlle: maybe

@ Lucy: but sure, i'll eat dinner with you

@ Ona Batlle: do you want me to ask if valet can handle motorcycles?

@ Lucy: oh that would be nice, saves me from those ungodly high rates they charge for parking in your street

@ Ona Batlle: yeah it is expensive, okay i'll text u in a sec

Thursday, a bit later that evening – Ona’s penthouse

''And how did that parking garage look'' Ona chuckled as she let Lucy in.

''Good'' Lucy said as she took her jacket and shoes off, ''there were so many cool cars in there''.

''I still think it's funny to hire someone for valet who doesn't have motorcycle licence''.

''But you expected it''.

''Yeah I was thinking about the fact nobody in this building owns a motorcycle, and then I thought, oh would they be able to put it away for you''.

''I had to follow the valet boy who walked me to your parking spot'' Lucy said as they walked into the living space, ''do you not have a car or something?''.

''No I take cabs everywhere'' Ona said with a shrug.

Lucy nodded, ''but you can drive?''.

Ona smiled, ''cars, yes'' ''motorcycles, no''.

Friday morning – Bronze Fitness Forge

They had managed to get through the gym session without breaking professionality, okay, maybe there had been some lingering touches here and there, but even with the massage they had both behaved.

Now Ona was done with drying off from her shower and walked back in to the dressing room wrapped in her towel.

Just as she undid herself from it, wanting to put her underwear on, someone knocked on the door on the gym side, she quickly pulled the towel back around her, ‘’yeah?’’.

Lucy opened the door, ‘’you forgot your shoes again’’ she said as she stepped in with the trainers, ‘’this is going to be- ‘’ she lagged as she saw Ona standing there, covered in nothing more then a towel, ‘’a tradition, is it?’’ she finished her sentence.

Ona chuckled and stepped closer to Lucy, ‘’oh shit, sorry for the inconvenience’’.

Lucy laughed breathily as she handed Ona the shoes, ‘’no worries’’.

‘’How can I pay you for your troubles’’ Ona asked whispering as she pulled Lucy closer with her shoes the woman was still holding. She saw Lucy’s chest rising and falling faster as she got closer.

She planted a soft kiss on the taller woman’s lips, ‘’thank you’’ she whispered.

As she wanted to take the shoes form Lucy, who was still holding them, she forgot to keep her elbows on the towel, making the cotton cloth fall to the ground.

‘’Oh eh sorry’’ Lucy said as she removed her hands from the shoes, ‘’I eh-‘’.

Ona chuckled as she dropped the shoes to the ground too, ‘’no worries, you can make it up to me’’ she whispered as she stepped impossibly closer to her, and placed Lucy's hands on her hips.

Lucy lost all composure and kissed Ona greedily.

´´You stay right here and get dressed, mind your business for a sec okay´´ Lucy said after she had got dressed quicker then Ona had ever seen one do before, ´´I need to cancel some appointments´´.

´´I am getting dressed´´ Ona rolled her eyes, ´´you mind your own business´´ she muttered quietly.

´´I am´´ Lucy said as zipped her bag shut, ´´and I’ll see you outside´´.

The door shut when Lucy got out.

Damn what a desperate woman, Ona thought, canceling appointments to get laid.

She quickly texted Sophia that she wouldn´t be there for an undefined period of time.

Then she heard Lucy talking to the secretary, confirming the fact that, the dressing rooms where indeed not soundproof at all.

´´Hey Carla´´.

´´Hey Lucy, what can i--- huh, you’re not in your training clothes?’’.

‘’uh, yeah, I am actually coming to you to call in sick, would you be so kind to call off all my appointments for today’’.

‘’Sick?’’.

Hastily Ona had put on her clothes, she gathered her stuff to throw in her bag and zipped it shut.

‘’Yeah I don’t feel really well’’. Lucy told the secretary.

Ona stormed out of the dressing room, she loved this, what an entertaining day. ‘’MISS BRONZE, I WILL PERSONALLY LET MY PA SEND IN A COMPLAINT ABOUT THIS’’ she said with a raised voice.

Carla and Lucy looked up.

‘’YOU DON’T EVER THROW UP ON A CLIENT, I HAVE NEVER NEVER NEVER IN MY LIFE EXPERIENCED SUCH A DISGUSTING THING!’’

With that Ona disappeared onto the London streets, she giggled to herself as she waited on Lucy.

After a few minutes a voice interrupted Ona’s thoughts and she looked up from her phone. ‘’I hate you, but also thanks, at least it was convincing’’ Lucy said as she walked towards Ona.

Ona looked back at her phone to finish a reply and put it away.

‘’Hate me?’’ she pouted, ‘’I thought we were an acting duo’’.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’Okay, that was a fun Saturday’’ she admitted.

‘’Right’’ Ona said as she already started walking towards the ally way.

Lucy smiled to herself, at least there was no doubt in how much they both wanted this.

...

Saturday night - Ona's Penthouse

After the encounter on friday morning they had told eachtother, but mostly themselfs, that it wasn't acceptable to skip days of work and that that day would be an exception.

They came to the conclusion that they had to see eachother more so the two hours of fitness could be spend in total sobriety. (Ofcourse🙄) They agreed with eachother that they had managed great that friday morning, it had only gone south when Ona's towel had slipped. So they agreed to never be alone in the lockerroom together.

Two weeks went by with this new dynamics, training sessions stayed professional, but Lucy and Ona regularly met eachother for a release. Usualy it would be at Lucy's place, as Ona had someone staying at hers, but this weekend Sophia was going home to her parents again.

This led to Lucy, this Saturday night, lying next to her in bed.

Ona was convinced she had just had the best sex of her life and was now lying on Lucy's chest with her head, her fingers tracing lines on the personal trainers toned stomach.

In a comfortable silence they stayed like that until Lucy spoke, ''that was maybe the best sex i've had in my life'' she sighed as she kept tracing her fingers along Ona's back.

Ona started chuckling.

''Hey'' Lucy said, poking Ona playfully, ''you were doing so good with being nice, don't laugh at me''.

Ona quickly shook her head, ''no i laughed because i was just thinking the exact same thing''.

"Really?".

"Yeah" Ona sighed, "it's a shame i have to go after next week".

"Where are you headding?" Lucy asked.

"Rome" Ona said, "but only for 2 weeks because after that I have something in Paris and then i need to go to Spain real quick for my fathers birthday, so i combined that with a few deals too and after that Rome again".

"Jezus" Lucy breathed out as she retracted her arm from Ona and strechted "i could never".

Ona shifted a bit, moving her head to the crook of Lucy's neck, burying her head against the warm skin. She smelt the English woman's sweat and instead of being disgusted by it she actually enjoyed it. But she wouldn't ever admit that to anyone, she didn't even admit it to herself.

After a few moments Ona started to doze off.

"It's getting late" Lucy whispered as she felt Ona's breath steadying.

"Mhm" Ona groaned quietly, barely hearable "just stay, you're so comfy".

Lucy pulled the bedsheet over them, "are you sure" she said, gently rubbing Ona's back again.

"Mhmm" Ona smiled, "especially if you do that".

Lucy smiled, she was really starting to develop a soft spot for the Catalan business woman, especially on moments she showed her soft spot. The last two weeks Lucy had learned that the woman was actually very kind. She just went through a lot on a young age, Lucy thought. She had learned Ona donated to multiple charities and when she had met Sophia, the woman had had nothing but kind words about Ona. This made Lucy to believe Ona had just acted the way she did coming from a hurt place, afraid to let anyone close again, probably especially in romantic terms, as she had been cheated on by Evelyn.

But Lucy tried not to think about all that, as a relationship with the Spaniard was impossible, she was only in London once every year.

Sunday morning - Ona's penthouse

Ona stirred as she woke up, she frowned when she felt herself laying against a bare woman.

Then her memories of the previous night flooded back, Lucy had stayed over, the first time she had shared a bed, for actual sleeping, with someone in over a year.

She took a deep breath, afraid this was going to be the end of her crush on the musculair woman, no one was hot first thing in the morning. Well, she thought, let's just hope it isn't too off putting.

With that she gently got out of bed and went to the bathroom quietly.

When she came back in to the room, the curtains were open and sun lighted up the woman that was, still, peacefully sleeping on her bed.

Ona was mesmerized, she looked so pretty with her slightly bewilderd hair, so peacefull with her arms up and tucked under her head, so cute with the way her chest rose in a steady pattern, covered by the thin white bedsheet.

She stayed standing there for a few seconds until she was weirded out by herself, she put on her robe and went to the kitchen.

In the kitchen she started to make some tea and scrambled eggs, for herself she made coffee, she was always amazed on how the English just went about their day drinking a cup of tea in the morning, no, she needed some real Spanish coffee to have a good start of the day.

As she was setting the table Lucy walked in, "g'morning" a heavy accented english morning voice sounded.

Ona turned around, "bon día hermosa" she said with a smile, looking at Lucy who had put on her white sportsbra, "i made eggs and tea".

"Wow" Lucy sighed in contendness, "you're really getting the hang of this whole being nice thing".

Ona smiled, the comment didn't even bother her, so she just shrugged and continued setting the table.

Now Lucy was flabbergasted, she almost missed Ona's snarky comments, so she wanted to test her limmits, "what are your plans today?" she asked.

Ona looked up with a smile, "i have none, you?".

"Also none".

"Ever seen London from the Thames?".

"Yes" Lucy said with a smile, "but that was lovely and i'd do it again any day".

"I have a friend who rents out boats"

Lucy was amazed when they arrived at the dock, sure she had been on boats, but that was nothing compared to the beauty's in this harbor.

"Ona!" A man called out.

"Ha Gerold, how are you?" Ona asked the man she shook the hand off, "this is Lucy, she owns Bronze Fitness Forge" Ona stated as if her gym was a well known fenomenon.

The man also shook her hand, "nice to meet you Lucy, i'm Gerold, i'm in boats" he laughed, "but i'm sure you could've guessed that".

Lucy laughed, she didn't find the man very funny, but she wanted to be polite.

"Well", the man said, "I'm sending Thomas with you as helmsman for the boat, if i didn't have work i would've come myself" he said in an appoligetic voice.

Ona chuckled, "oh i couldn't ask that of you Gerold, and thank you so much for letting us borrow your own boat".

"Any day Ona!" Gerold said, "my wife and i still think of you often, we're so happy with our house, it's perfect".

"Aw" Ona smiled, "It was perfect for you two, I'm still glad that offer was accepted then".

"Me too", the man said, "well have a good day you two, Thomas is already on the boat".

"Thank you" Ona and Lucy said.

Lucy followed Ona to the boat, she was wearing a white blouse and white top, borrowed from Ona, with her own jeans, she thought the blouse looked nice but she didn´t come close to the way Ona looked. They were wearing matching fits, but colored oposite. The Catalan was wearing a white trouser with a light blue blouse. They also matched with sunglasses, Ona had leant Lucy a pair, letting her choose one she liked from the maybe 100 she had laying in a drawer of her closet.

It made Lucy wonder if she had an entire wardrobe like that in every house she owned.

It had been a lovely afternoon sailing on the Thames, the boy who was with them to steer was very nice and mostly stayed in the cockpit.

He had first asked a few times if Ona and Lucy wanted something to drink, but Ona had said nicely that they would get something themselves if they needed anything, she had also encouraged the boy to have a drink himself every now and then if he wanted to.

They had laid on the deck and watched London go by, it was a nice summer day but with the breeze on the water they were glad they had put on longsleeve tops.

Now it was almost dinnertime and the boy was berthing the boat back in it´s spot. Ona had tanked him for coming along ealier, and had slipped him a 100 euro note, eventhough Gerold had told her it was on him, she wanted to give the boy a little something.

A few hours earlier she had planned a dinner in a rooftop restaurant she loved with her phone, sending an email if they had a table left for tonight, which they luckily had.

Sunday night - Ona´s penthouse

´´Did you enjoy dinner?'' Ona asked Lucy while pouring her a glass of white wine.

Lucy nodded, ''a lot, the whole day actually, thanks for taking me along'' she said honestly.

Ona smiled, ''wouldn't have been fun without you'' she said as she finished pouring her own glass.

She walked towards Lucy, ''want to sit on the couch?''.

''mhm'' Lucy said as she took one of the glasses from Ona, ''thank you'' she said, looking into the shorter woman's eyes, ''for everything''.

Ona held her gaze, unconsciously moving closer ''it was my pleasure'' she said as she could now feel Lucy's breath against her face.

Lucy bowed her head to be on the same level as the shorter woman, she could feel Ona's shaky breath against her lips as she leant in.

They shared a kiss, the kiss was different to kisses they had shared earlier, it was a kiss without hunger, or well, a different type of hunger. It was full of feelings, wanting to be close to eachother, wanting to be connected.

As their glasses clinked against eachother they broke the kiss, disturbed by the sound.

Ona cleared her throath and smiled, ''right, uhm, couch''.

''Mhm'' Lucy said back with a dopey smile, ''can't let the wine get warm''.

Ona chuckled, ''that would be a shame''.

Lucy took place on a spot on the couch that was directly pointed at the big windows, she loved the view from Ona's beautiful apartment.

Ona sat on the other side of the cornered couch.

''Are you going to sit there?'' Lucy asked, ''don't you want the view?''.

The Spaniard chuckled, ''if you want me close just say so''.

Lucy shook her head with a smile but didn't deny anything.

Ona moved to sit on the same side as Lucy, eventhough the couch was long enough for them to leave two metres between them, she took place so close next to Lucy that their thighs touched.

The English woman said nothing and took another sip of her wine, Ona also took a sip, before letting her head rest on Lucy's shoulder.

Lucy sighed in contendness and shifted a bit to get her arm up so Ona would be a little more comfy, resting her arm around the woman.

They sat like that for a while, sipping wine and looking out of the windows, overlooking the city. The air was filled with a warm silence, they were both enjoying this moment together.

When Lucy's glass was empty she let it rest on her leg, holding the stem of the wine glass, spining it around with two fingers.

''Want a refil?'' Ona asked, looking up at Lucy.

Lucy smiled as she looked into Ona's eyes, she shook her head, ''no one is enough for me'' she said, ''I didn't want to disturb you by leaning forward''.

Ona smiled and took the glass from Lucy to put it on the coffee table, she put her own next to it, eventhough it had still a bottom left. She looked back at Lucy ''so kind of you'' she said, ''very thoughtfull''.

The English woman shrugged, ''you looked relaxed''.

''I am'' Ona smiled, but her smile faded as she realised how she had behaved towards the woman that had this calming effect on her, ''hey Lucy'' she said as she sat up, ''sorry again for being so mean-spirited the other days''.

She saw Lucy's gaze go from her eyes to her mouth and back to her eyes, ''it's okay Ona'' Lucy ensured, ''i think i know where you're comming from, and i've noticed you're actually very kind''.

''Where i'm coming from?'' Ona asked surprised.

''Yeah, i think your trust has been broken'' Lucy carefully said, as she kept her eye on Ona, ''maybe even more then once?''.

Ona took a deep breath and let her head fall back on Lucy's arm.

''You don't have to say anything'' Lucy said as she gently started stroking Ona's hair, ''it's okay''.

Tears welled up in Ona's eyes, how could Lucy be so nice to her, they had just known eachother for a couple of weeks.

''Hey'' Lucy kissed Ona's temple, ''you're okay, you can cry, i won't think any different of you'' she planted another kiss, ''don't hold it in because of me''.

With a breathy whimper the tears started flowing, ''because you already see me as pathetic'' she joked.

''Nooo'' Lucy soothed, ''not at all Ona, i think you're so strong, so beautiful'' she placed another kiss, ''just a little broken''.

''God'' Ona sniffed and wiped her eyes carefully not to smudge her mascara, ''this is emberassing''.

''Hey'' Lucy turned Ona's head gently to look her in the eyes, ''you're one of the strongest woman i have ever met''.

Ona laughed with a stuffed nose from her tears, ''who is crying in the arms of a stranger''.

Lucy tried not to take offence from that comment, it hurt a little to be refered to as a stranger, but she realised she didn't know how she would call them either, ''well, showing your emotions also takes courage'' she said as she pulled her hands up to Ona's face and wiped her cheeks with her tumbs.

Lucy looked back at her eyes and saw Ona looking at her lips. She smiled and leant in to kiss the woman.

''So why do you not have a partner?'' Ona asked as she pulled back.

Lucy chuckled, ''I can answer that in two ways, d'you want political correct or the other one''.

Ona crinkled her nose, ''the one thats true?'' she asked laughingly.

''Well..'' Lucy akwardly said, ''they both have truth in them''.

''Allright, get it over with''.

''Okay, first and most important reason, i haven't met the one'' Lucy said as she stared infront of her, ''second reason is i...'' she hasitated, ''..i enjoy flirting with woman''.

Ona couldn't suppress the smile that tugged on the corners of her mouth, ''akward Lucy likes flirting?''.

Lucy rolled her eyes, ''i know, you wouldn't expect it, but i'm usualy pretty smooth'' she grinned, ''they like the abs too''.

''Wow'' Ona said as it dawned on her, ''so that was your thing, you do impress them with your whole fitness thingy'', she started mimicking Lucy, ''i believe i can break personal records with you on multiple fronts'' she chuckled, ''and then you slip their hand under your shirt''.

She looked at Lucy, ''right?''.

Lucy shook her head, with a smile ''maybe''.

''But why?'' Ona asked, ''are you affraid you can't keep from flirting if you're in a relationship?''.

''I would never cheat'' Lucy said quickly, as she knew it was a sensitive subject for Ona, ''i just haven't found the woman that has it all''.

Ona nodded, ''cheaters suck''.

''Cheaters suck'' Lucy agreed, ''it's so stupid too, because you can just communicate''.

''Well'' Ona said bitterly, ''that seems to be very hard for some people''.

''What happened'' Lucy carefully asked as she rubbed Ona's thigh, ''if you want to talk about it''.

Ona looked at Lucy, the beautiful tanned face with the tiny nose ring, she smiled, ''i have been cheated on by both the woman i have ever had an relationship with, Evelyn, the last one, she knew of the first one, and still'' Ona stopped as she felt the lump in her throath, she swallowed and continued ''still she cheated, we had been together for a year and a half, and half of that she'd spent fucking other women besides me'' she spitted the last words out with disgust.

''Heyy'' Lucy soothingly said, ''c'mere'' she patted her lap before pulling Ona on it.

''I just feel like i am not worthy enough to not be cheated on'' Ona said with a broken voice, she sniffed, ''dios, sorry, i am normally not like this''.

Lucy cupped her cheeks and smiled, ''i think evelyn and that other bitch are crazy, and i think they realise that now too'' she gently wiped away a tear that fell down Ona's cheek, ''you're so beautiful, and i hate that you've been hurt like that because i can see there is such a beautiful soul inside you too''.

Ona blushed by the words the English woman spoke, ''Lu-''.

'-sshh, it's true, you've just been hurt, but i know you will find someone who is worthy of your love one day, who will never cheat on you, never intentionally hurt you''.

The Spaniard was at a loss for words, how could Lucy speak so kindly about her, and why did Ona feel this sensation in her stomach everytime she caught Lucy looking at her lips.

She leant in to kiss Lucy. Again it was a kiss different then the once they had shared before this day. So tender, so peacefull.

Lucy hands found their place on Ona's body, not in a needy exploring way, but in a gentle grounding way.

´´Come with me´´ Ona said in a breathy voice as she broke the kiss after a few minutes.

''we d-don't'' Lucy smiled at her assuringly, ''w-we don't have to do anything you know that?''.

Ona tilted her head.

''We don't have to sleep with eachother right now, i get it if you're not in the mood, we can just cuddle or something'' Lucy suggested.

''Oh'' Ona smiled, ''you are so sweet to me''.

Lucy shook her head, ''just being a decent human, the bare minimum''.

''But i was talking about something else'' Ona carfully said, ''come with me when i.. leave for Rome?''.

The smile from Lucy's face slowely disappeared, she chuckled akwardly ''what d'you mean?''.

''Come with me'' Ona said with a twinkle in her eyes, ''i really like your company''.

''i can't Ona'' Lucy said as she soothed her hands along Ona's sides, ''i have clients here and my gym''.

''What if you hire someone in your place?''.

Lucy shook her head, ''they booked me, some people want me explicitly''.

''I want you'', Ona pouted, ''can't i hire you to come with me as a personal trainer''.

''No'' Lucy chuckled, ''then i'll still leave those clients, remember''.

''Just hire some other high class trainer''.

''i cant just do that''.

Ona rolled her eyes, ''you're no fun''.

''You stay in London then''. Lucy challenged.

''No i can't'' ''i have business'' Ona sputtered, before she realised what Lucy did, ''right''.

''Mhm'' Lucy smiled, ''we both have things to do''.

Ona kissed Lucy again, this time it was a hungry kiss, ready to forget their conversation with some physical distractions.

Tuesday evening - Bronze Fitness Forge

It was time for Ona's training session again. Lucy had left Ona's appartment Monday morning, just early enough to avoid an akward encounter with Soph, but late enough they'd drawn out a couple of orgasms from eachoter.

Lucy and her worked perfectly together, as they'd admitted to eachother that weekend that they had the best sex they'd ever had together.

Now Ona stepped in to the building, eventhough she'd seen Lucy yesterday, she was still looking forward to seeing her again. They had texted a little bit here and there, saying goodmorning and goodnight and some things about their days.

She got dressed and stepped in to the gym, and maybe she was a bit early, but she hadn't expected to see the thing she was walking in on.

Lucy was standing at the massage table and giving a woman a massage, the woman was laying down and Lucy stood besides the table.

It shouldn't make her this mad, it wasn't her right to feel this sting in her stomach and it was unreasonable the way her sight got blurred slightly from the damp that formed in her eyes.

''Miss Batlle!'' Lucy cheered, ''we are almost done, could i kindly ask you to wait in the dressingroom?'' she said in a professional tone.

''Of course'' Ona said, suppressing a whimper in her voice, ''pardon me, i didn't-

Lucy smiled and nodded.

''It's okay'' a muffled sound from the person laying on the table sounded ''we're almost done''.

Ona turned around and took place on a bench in the dressing room, merda, why does this bother her as much as it did.

Her thoughts get interupted by a loud grunt ''agh, Luce, just like that''.

What the hell, Ona thought, she couldn't believe what was happening.

''Okay'' she heared Lucy say, ''i think that knod is gone now''.

''mhh'' the woman giggled, ''you're such a good masseuse Luce''.

''Thank you'' Lucy said casually, ''well, more next time''.

''Yeah'' she giggled again, ''god, i need someone like you in my house, who could just give me massages every day''.

''Well you got my number Jess'' Lucy said, ''just text to book a next appointment and i'll see if i have a spot''.

''Yeah i have put you under the name magic hands'' the woman said.

Ona grumbled as she hear Lucy laughing with her.

When she heared the other dressing room close she stood up and pretended to do something with her bag, as she didn't want to look like an eavesdropping.

''Hey Ona'' Lucy said as she walked in to the dressing room, ''sorry about that, she is the wife of a soccer player i coach, they did a couple session once and since then she comes alone sometimes'' she got closer to Ona as she whispered, ''i actually think she is so anoying'' she confessed, ''but i'm mates with her girlfriend, so i just do it anyways''.

Ona chuckled, she was confused as why the partner of that woman wanted Lucy's hands all over her girlfriend, but she guessed Lucy was a trustworthy enough person, that they didn't mind. "Why do you find her anoying?" Ona asked sincerely.

Lucy quietly replied, as if she was afraid the woman in the dressing room would hear them, eventhough Ona could hear her sing under the shower "I feel likes she flirts with me, she just acts way different when her girlfriend is around then when we're alone" Lucy said, "and she obnoxiously loud".

´´Oh´´ Ona said, not being able to come up with anything else.

Lucy cupped Ona´s chin with her hand and tilted it up towards her, ´´now what´s wrong´´ she asked in a teasing voice, chuckling.

´´Nothing´´ Ona huffed, acting like a todler.

Lucy leaned in enough to let their lips brush, ´´what´s wrong?'' she asked again, a bit more serious this time.

Ona turned her head, ''let's just go train'' she said. She hated herself for feeling so much for this woman, Lucy could flirt with whoever she wants, it's not like they're in a relationship.

''Okay'' Lucy said, ''i don't know whats wrong, but if you want to go train now we'll do that, i'll just say that i wouldn't have minded to kiss you before''.

With a laugh Ona turned back, ''wouldn't have minded?'' she chuckled, ''good to know you're feeling so neutral about it''.

''No wait'' Lucy said shaking her head, ''i meant, i was looking forward to kiss you again''.

Ona couldn't suppress her smile at those words, but then the smile faded again, ''me, or just someone?''.

''What's this about Ona?'' Lucy asked with a frown, ''i like you, i think you're cute, since we've first slept together i haven't done anything with anyone else, not that we had made rules for that, if anything you were very clear on the 'no relationship' policy you're handling''.

''Right'' Ona said with a broken voice, ''i just--'' she shook her head, she was not going to confess to Lucy that when she had said ''i know you will find someone who is worthy of your love'' that Ona had seen a future flash by where she was together with Lucy.

''Train then?'' Lucy asked when it stayed silent for a couple of minutes, she was dying to kiss the Spaniard infront of her, but she wasn't about to confess she hadn't been able to think about anything else since the freckled woman had entered her life.

Ona sniffed her nose, ''y-yeah'' she said, actively trying to hold back her tears.

There was a sad atmosphere during the sports session, they did what they had to do, but there was not much talking.

At one point it was enough for Lucy, she couldn't hold it in anymore, it had been on the tip of her tongue for an hour ''I like you'' she blurted out.

Ona almost dropped the barbell she was doing swings with, did she hear that right? She put the weight on the ground and turned around to face the woman.

Lucy was standing there as if she didn't know what had gotten in to her, ''sorry i-''.

''What did you say?'' Ona asked, she had heared it, she just needed to be a hunderd percent sure, or maybe she wanted to hear it again.

''uh'' Lucy bit her nails, ''n-nothing, i just'' she shook her head, ''accidentally said something''.

A tear rolled onto Ona's cheek, but she smiled, atleast she tried to smile, ''okay'' she cleared her throath, ''uhm, i am going to the toilet for a second'' she said before she hastily moved towards the dressing room.

Lucy stood in the same position Ona had left her in for a couple of minutes until she regained conscience. She shook her head, what the fuck had she done, Ona would never go with a pleb like her, and frankly, the woman deserved better then here, god, she had litteraly admitted to liking flirting with woman so much as a reason to not date, to a woman who had been cheated on. ''Fucking knobhead'' she said out loud, shaking her head.

Lucy quickly walked to the dressing room, she wanted to apologise. She went in and to her surprise Ona wasn't in the toilet, but stood in the middle of the dressing room, changing ''leaving?'' was the only thing she could mutter.

Ona looked at her, only now Lucy recognised the swollen eyes, red from crying ''y-yeah i need to go home'' Ona said.

''crying?''

Ona let out a sobby laugh, ''can you only say verbs in a questioning matter anymore?''.

''I am not good enough'' Lucy stated out of nowhere, ''technically it might be possible to hand over my role here, but we can't be in a relationship, you deserve better''.

Ona stayed quiet as she kept on getting dressed.

''I get it if you only see me as someone to share the bed with'' she said turning back to Lucy with her bag, ''just don't lie to me about it''.

She walked towards the door, ''i understand i'm not enough to just only have me'' with that she walked out the door, two steps away from it she couldn't keep her tears in anymore.

When she stopped to book a taxi on her phone she felt a hand on her shoulder, ''ona'' a small voice called out, ''let me tell you the truth then''.

Ona shook her head as she turned around, she looked at the ground, ''i don't think i can handle it, please don't say it out loud''.

Lucy bent down and grabbed Ona's face, only now did she see Lucy's tears, ''i have to say the truth, i like you Ona, i like you a lot, you amaze me, you're so pretty and you're the smartest one i've ever met, and you're funny, even when you're mean i like you still so very very much'', she chuckled ''i-'' then Lucy got a lump in her throat, the first part of her confession was easy, but the second part was... ''you're just'' she looked at Ona, ''you, i mean, like that perfect sunday, i would never been able to give you that'' she looked down, ''okay maybe once, but then i'll have to live on water and dry bread for like a month'' she chuckled sadly, ''i'm not at the same level as you, i mean, i rent the space my gym is in from people like you'' she sighed and shook her head ''i bet your closet is worth more then my house''.

Finally Lucy looked up to Ona again, and was met with..... a smiling woman. ''Huh?'' Lucy said confused, then she shook her head, ''don't laugh at me please''.

''No no nooo'' Ona grabbed Lucy's face, ''i am not Lucy, i am not''.

''Lucy, you're such an amazing woman'' Ona said with disbelieve, ''i can't grasp the fact you feel like we are not on the same level'' she shook her head, ''i mean i can't grasp the fact you see me above you'' she grabbed Lucy's face thighter, ''you renovated a freaking house'' she chuckled, ''do you know why i eat scrambled eggs and take out, i can't even cook'' Ona called out to the ceiling, ''and yet here you are saying things like this'' she looked back at Lucy, ''i had an advantage, but if we take all the money out of the picture, we would be left with one skillless woman and one very skillfull one''.

Lucy frowned, ''i hope you just forgot all your skills in the field of architecture and real estate'' she chuckled, ''otherwise this is a big clever roast from you''.

Ona chuckled, ''Okay that came out a bit stupid, but you have to take in account that i am not a native English speaker, i was talking about life skills''.

''Hmm'' Lucy said, ''Well your profession is also a life skill, you make a living off of it''.

Ona smiled, ''you're so cute, i can't wait for us to be officially together''.

Lucy kissed Ona tenderly.

''So we're really doing this huh?'' Lucy chuckled as she was still face to face with the Catalan.

Ona gave Lucy another kiss, ''first to the beautiful Rome, and then to the city of love'''.

Lucy smiled, ''Paris''.

''Mhm'' Ona smiled at her ''I bet you would love waking up with a view of la tour Eiffel''.

''I would, but like i've said before, no view could beat the sight of you''.

''romàntica'' Ona laughed as she rolled her eyes, ''and in Rome i live in a mansion just outside of the city, i fell in love with the olive trees so i needed a big garden full of them'''.

Lucy shook her head in disbelieve, ''we need to work on statements like this, and i'll pay for my own plane ticket by the way''.

Ona laughed, ''okay, don't hate me for saying another out-of-touch thing-

-so you do know what that is!'' Lucy laughed.

Ona playfully slapped Lucy's chest, ''but we fly with one of my dads planes''.

Lucy took Ona's hands ''wow'' she said as she leaned in to kiss Ona, ''I don't think i'll get ever used to the things you say'' she kissed Ona softly ''but I think i'll only be able to join you when you're already in Paris, but Rome was on the agenda again later right, so i'll see your house there later?''.

Ona tilted her head, ''Yes after Spain i need to go there again, but why can't you come with me earlier?''.

''I have to set everything up here'' Lucy gave her another kiss, ''leave it behind properly so I have my full attention for you when we meet up again''.

Ona smiled, ''will you stay my personal trainer too?'' she asked.

Lucy shrugged, ''ofcourse i'll train with you, you just can't pay me for it anymore, and i am going to work where ever we go because i cant just live off of you''.

''We'll set up a gym for you in each city i have a house'' Ona said as if she was stating a fact.

''Ona!'' Lucy said, ''this is exactly what i meant'' she shook her head laughing, ''I need to build things up myself''.

''I'll just give you the buildings'' Ona said.

Lucy slapped her forehead, and shook her head, ''no Ona, i want to create it myself, everything'' she took Ona's hand again, ''but i'll ask you to search for a place i can afford with me when i have saved up enough to rent''. Suddenly and idea struk her, ''maybe i can rent out my house here or something and then use that towards my new project''.

Ona shook her head, ''renting is not smart, it's losing money, it's wiser to buy''.

''It's not about what's smarter, it's about what's possible'' Lucy said as she brought one of Ona's hands to her mouth, ''we'll see how everything goes'' she said as she placed a kiss to it.

Ona smiled, ''i feel so happy already''.

''Want me to changed and come home with me?'' Lucy asked.

''I think i need to kiss you some more first'' Ona said as she cupped Lucy's face.

Tuesday night- Lucy's house

Ona moaned while pulling Lucy's hair, ''I think you hypnotize me with good sex''.

A chuckle sounded between Ona's legs, Lucy climbed up to hover above Ona ''I think you hypnotize me with the way you taste'' she said before indulging in a sloppy kiss rich of tongue.

Again Ona moaned, this time it was more whiny, her hips shifted, searching for contact with any part of Lucy's body.

Lucy chuckled, ''is it all i'm good for? giving you orgasms?''.

''Hmm'' Ona let her head fall back on the bed, ''no i love talking to you too, but there's a time and-

The words hitched in her throath as Lucy slid two fingers along her core, ''and what?'' Lucy teasingly asked as she kissed Ona's exposed neck, ''tell me, i love talking to you too''.

''y-you're'' Ona tried to gain back her composure, something that was encredibly hard with those talented fingers teasing her entrance, ''a tease Luce'' she groaned,

''Why am I a tease?'' Lucy asked as she grazed her teeth along the skin of Ona's throath, making her arch of the mattress, ''what did you say, come on i'm dying to know''.

''There's a time and a place!'' Ona called out as she felt Lucy barely dip one of her fingers inside her, ''now is not the time for talking''.

''What is it time for?'' Lucy asked, sucking at Ona's skin, ''for this?'' she asked as she pushed her two fingers inside the Catalans pulsing opening.

Ona moaned as she once again arched off the bed, ''fuck yes'' she cried out.

Lucy grinned, ''i think i need something to shut me up then, so i can focus'' she said as she curled her fingers inside Ona.

Ona's eyes rolled back as she tried to focus on Lucy's words, she pulled Lucy closer by her neck and kissed her.

Lucy groaned as Ona mesmerized her with the captivating kiss they shared and the way she felt around her fingers.

...

Wednesday afternoon - Ona's penthouse

Ona had come home this morning very very satisfied, but most of all very very happy.

She had sat down with Soph and told her everything, well not everything, she didn't need to know anything about her intimate life, but the fact Lucy and her were going to start dating had been shared.

Sophia was really happy for Ona and they had a happy and productive workday behind them, where Soph had made a comment here and there about how Ona was glowing or how love was a good look on her.

She couldn't even find it in herself to care or make a snarky comment back, she secretly liked it.

This brought her to the here and now, where she was sitting behind the computer in her office, she had agreed with Soph to let her handle dinner.

Ona still had some things to arrange.

First she found out who the building owned that Lucy's gym was in, coincidentally she knew the guy, it was an acquaintance of her father.

She gave him a quick phone call.

''Hey tío'' Ona started, ''you're speaking with Ona, Ona Batlle'' she clarified.

''Ona!'' the man sounded happy, ''what do i owe the pleasure too?''.

''I was calling about one of your buildings'' Ona told him wich one she was talking about, ''does it bring in a lot of money for you?''.

''Meh'' the guy said, ''i mean the renters always pay me on time, so it's a perfect building to own, but it's not anything special''. ''Why? do you have clients interested?''.

''I got someone who wants to take it over with the renters, a silent conveyance''.

''Who is it, and you know we always have to atleast give out an email with a new owner'' the guy said, ''what are they offering?''.

''What would you do it away for?''.

''22 milion'' the guy said, ''but if they gave you a bigger budget, i'll accept that too'' he laughed, it was one of those typical rich golfer guys laughs.

Ona laughed in politeness, she knew 22 milion was a fair price from the guy, ''they were thinking 20-21 million, but i bet they'd give you 22, i'll just tell them i negotiated from 25 to 22''.

''Deal Ona, you're a funny girl, makes me miss your dad, how is he?''.

They talked about him for a while before Ona could finally end the call, within two weeks she would be the proud owner of the building Lucy rented from, now she only needed to keep her fingers crossed that Lucy wouldn't read the email about it, she just wanted to buy the building as a safety net for her, if the gym clients really did leave if Lucy wouldn't work there anymore, she didn't have to worry about rent.

Then it was time for her next plan, she made a couple of calls to people in the world of fitness.

When Sophia called her for dinner an hour later, she was done.

In a couple of days Bronze Fitness Forge would have a dozen candidates stopping by for a job interview, she had deliberately planned it on Saturday, figuring Lucy would not like it if her normal program was disrupted.

...

Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge

''I hope you are free tomorrow'' Ona said as Lucy walked in to the dressing room.

''Hey to you too'' Lucy chuckled, ''sorry i couldn't wait for a kiss'' she offered as explanation for why she was in the dressing room.

''Yeah yeah'' Ona chuckled, ''sure you didn't just wanted to take a peek?'' she teased.

''Ah busted'' Lucy said smiling as she held Ona by the waist and pulled the shorter woman against her, ''what did you plan for tomorrow then?''.

''Now i want a kiss first'' Ona pulled a sad face, ''can't just talk about it and not do it''.

Lucy grinned and leaned in, ''you're cute when u put on a pouty face'' she said before kissing her.

''So what did you plan?'' Lucy said as they broke their kiss, clearing her throat, almost having forgotten where they were.

Ona blinked, having to regain her thoughts after she'd been broken from the trance of Lucy's smell and taste, ''uhm'' ''oh right, a surprise, i need you from 11 until 17''.

''Is it fun?'' Lucy asked suspiously, as she couldn't read anything off of Ona's face.

Ona chuckled, ''for me probably, for you..'' she looked at Lucy earnestly, ''i hope so, i hope you like my gesture''.

Lucy narrowed her eyes, ''what did you doooo?'' she asked suspiously, ''nothing with money i hope'' she added, ''I don't want you to buy anything for me''.

''No'' Ona laughed, ''if you like one, you can pay for it yourself'' she said cryptically.

''You're crazy'' Lucy shook her head, ''you aren't going to give me any hints, are you?''.

''Nope'' Ona said with a satisfied smirk, ''you'll see''.

''Are you bringing me along shopping?'' Lucy tried, ''making me buy suits you'll accept me wearing when i'm walking by your side''.

''No'' Ona shook her head, ''i accept everything you'll wear if it means you're next to me''.

Lucy lifted an eyebrow.

''Okay, some things i like better then other things, we can upgrade your wardrobe another time'' she said rolling her eyes.

''But not tomorrow?''.

''No tomorrow we have something else planned'' Ona said as she took her clothes off, ''now quit asking stuff because i won't answer''.

But Lucy had long forgotten the track she was on, she was watching Ona getting ready putting her gym clothes on.

When Ona wanted to turn around to put her sports bra on Lucy reached out, ''you don't have to turn around for me you know..'' she cheekily said.

Ona looked at her with an open mouth, ''okay miss pervy'' she said, pushing Lucy lightly.

Lucy chuckled, ''oh yeah, as if you didn't stare at me when i was putting my shirt on that first evening class''.

Ona rolled her eyes, ''just because you looked so dumb being stuck in it'' she said, not being able to keep from smiling.

''Okay fair enough'' Lucy said, crossing her arms and accepting her defeat.

Ona took her normal bra off to replace it with her sporting one, ''and you looked at my ass too'' she said, catching Lucy's eyes roaming her chest.

Lucy blushed, ''i was not'' she sputtered, still looking down.

Ona held her hands infront of her boobs, finally making Lucy look up at her, Lucy blushed as she felt like a caught teenager.

Ona chuckled, ''see, i saw that face too that day'' she laughed again, ''i just hadn't learned what it meant yet''.

Lucy grinned as she took Ona's hands, ''it meant'' she said leaning in, ''that you look so fucking amazing that i can't tear my eyes off of you'' she said hungrily, leaning in to kiss Ona.

Friday evening - Ona's penthouse

Lucy cooked dinner as Sophia and Ona sat behind the counter, all tree they had a glass of whine and it was very lovely how Sophia and Lucy were getting along.

Lucy had texted Ona with the idea of her cooking dinner for her tonight and when Sophia heared about the plans she insisted on staying, so she could properly meet Lucy, as she had only spoken to the woman once, and Ona wasn't dating her back then.

So Ona reluctantly agreed, as she'd rather just spend her time alone with Lucy, but she turned around a bit more when Lucy had been enthusiastic about it.

After they had eaten dinner and had a few more glasses of wine, Sophia announced her cab was going to be there soon, as she didn't want to arrive at her parents' too late.

´´Allright lovebirds´´ Sophia said as she came back with her suitcase, she´d fetched from her room.

Lucy stepped away from Ona, she had been hugging her from behind, standing at the kitchen as Ona was wiping the counter.

Ona looked up with a smile, ´´ah yes, have fun with your parents Soph´´.

´´I will´´ Sophia smiled, ´´they love that i´ve been able to come home the weekends, so thank you for that Ona and have a good weekend you two´´

´´Ofcourse´´ Ona smiled, ´´thank you Sophia, you know you´re the best assistant i know right´´.

´´I really like this in love version of you´´ Sophia chuckled, ´´i could get used to this´´.

´´Hey!´´ Ona said, ´´i was nice to you before this too´´ she pouted.

Sophia shrugged, ´´yes but now you´re even nicer´´.

Ona heard Lucy chuckling besides her, ´´hey! you two are not ganging up against me, are you?''.

''Well'' Sophia laughed, ''i have to go, good to meet you properly Lucy, nice to get to know you''.

''It was a pleasure Sophia, nice to meet you too'' she gently put her hand on Ona's back, ''i'm sure we'll be seeing eachother a lot more from now on''.

''without a doubt!'' Sophia laughed as she walked into the hallway ''bye byee''.

''Bye Soph'' Ona chuckled.

''Bye Sophia!'' Lucy called out before she heard the door shut.

''Sooo'' Lucy said as she took place behind Ona again, she burried her face in Ona's neck and closed her arms around Ona's tummy, ''in love huh?'' she smiled as she took in Ona's scent, ''sounds good''.

''Hmm'' Ona hummed as she lightly got rocked to and fro by the woman wrapped around her, ''what if i am?'' she said with her eyes closed, enjoying Lucy's presence.

Lucy smiled against Ona neck and pressed a kiss against her skin, ''maybe i am too'' she hummed against the smaller woman.

Ona chuckled, as she tried to turn around.

''No'' Lucy said as she thightened her hold, ''no you are mine now, can't escape anymore'' she chuckled.

Ona turned her head to try and face Lucy as good as she could, ''i don't want to escape, i wanted to turn around'' she laughed, ''millor et faig un petó'' (so i can kiss you better).

''I am going to learn your language'' Lucy said as she loosened her grip on Ona, ''because i have now idea what you were just saying'' she laughed.

Ona turned around, ''i said i wanted to kiss you'' she said as she leaned in.

---

he he he (stay put for part 3 to find out if Lucy likes what Ona has planned this saturday 😈)

PART 3

#lucy bronze smut #woso smut #woso fanfics #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #ona batlle smut #woso #woso imagine #ona batlle #barca femeni

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sheisjoeschateau · 10 months ago

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

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Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts. Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts. Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying. ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair. You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze. Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other.

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy. Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway. It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught.

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers. "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously. Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night. Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy. Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug.

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures.

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut

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gavisuntiedboot · 4 months ago

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We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Stylist! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.

~~~

Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.

“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.

“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”

“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.

“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing. I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”

You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.

“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”

The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.

You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.

“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.

The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.

It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.

"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."

There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.

"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.

"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.

"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.

In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.

Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.

The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.

His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.

"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."

"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?

He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-

“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.

“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.

“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”

Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.

“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.

“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”

Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.

“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”

He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.

“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”

He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.

“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.

“We went out, we fucked-“

“Pedri!”

He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.

“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”

“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"

Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"

Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.

"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."

"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."

"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.

"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"

Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.

“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”

For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.

"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

"Naranja, the bastard is here."

You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.

Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.

"Good morning, Naranja."

God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl."

And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.

"Good morning Pedro."

A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.

"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."

"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"

You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.

"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"

"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"

After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.

"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.

"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.

"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.

"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"

"That's not my name."

"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."

He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.

"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."

"Wait, what? Hold on-"

"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."

Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.

"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."

Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.

"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"

"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.

"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"

"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."

You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.

"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?

"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.

"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."

"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.

"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"

"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."

The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.

Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...

"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.

His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.

"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"

His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.

"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.

"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."

"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."

"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."

The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."

"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.

"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."

"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.

"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.

"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."

That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.

"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."

"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."

Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.

"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."

~~~

Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3

(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)

Taglist:

@girlidekanymore

#gavisuntiedboot #gub we cant be friends #pedri #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri blurb #pedri gonzalez #pedri x y/n #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez one shot #pedri fanfic #footballer #football rpf #football fanfic

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