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#but once I did I got carried by the writing flow
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Can i get Sugar mommy Alcina? 😭🙏
Reader found her profile and fell inlove instantly, (because who wouldn't) and idk you can do whatever you want with the rest 😗
Thanks and loveeeeee your work so much!💞💞
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𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭? [𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]
❥warnings: smut, sugar realness, public sex
❥note: I am so sorry darling it took me so long to upload this, I gotta say, writing smut is so hard(I get all hot and bothered) on my knees to all smut writers, thank you for feeding us. And thank you anon and I hope you enjoy this filth<3
❥note: request is open<3
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You had no intention of diving into a sugar relationship, but curiosity got the best of you one late evening as you scrolled through various profiles on a niche site. You weren't even seriously looking until she appeared on your screen.
Alcina Dimitrescu.
It was impossible to ignore the immediate impact she had on you. Her profile was captivating, her beauty mesmerizing, and her wealth? Well, it was obvious she didn’t need to flaunt it—her elegance spoke volumes. Standing taller than any woman you’d ever seen, her striking dark hair cascading down her back, sharp cheekbones that could cut glass, and the grace in her piercing gaze made you pause. The way she carried herself, even in a few photos, was magnetic.
A playful grin tugged at your lips. Why not? You thought as you typed a message, half-expecting not to hear back. But, to your surprise, it took mere minutes before a response pinged in.
"You’re quite bold to approach me, darling. Care for a drink tomorrow night?"
Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you read it. Tomorrow? Alcina Dimitrescu wanted to meet you tomorrow night? The thought was dizzying.
The next evening, you found yourself dressed in your best, standing nervously in front of one of the most luxurious hotels in town. The butterflies in your stomach only worsened when a sleek black car pulled up, and the driver opened the door to reveal her.
Alcina stepped out gracefully, her figure impossibly tall, dressed in an exquisitely tailored black dress, her red lips curled into a knowing smile. You felt your pulse quicken as her golden eyes swept over you.
“Well, aren’t you just darling?” she said, her voice smooth like velvet, with an edge of amusement. “Shall we?”
You nodded, speechless, as she offered you her hand—cool, strong, and commanding. The touch sent shivers down your spine as she led you into the hotel, whisking you away to a private lounge that screamed exclusivity.
Conversation flowed easily, and though Alcina radiated power and grace, she was attentive, never making you feel lesser despite her imposing figure and wealth. There was undeniable chemistry—her eyes never straying far from yours, her voice laced with quiet seduction as she inquired about your life, your interests, all while making her intentions clear.
After that night, Alcina kept her promise, sweeping you into her world of luxury. But each encounter revealed more than just opulence. With every passing day, you started to see behind her controlled exterior. At first, she showered you with gifts—lavish dinners, designer clothes, and trips to private locations. Yet, amidst the grandeur, something in her softened.
Months passed, and your relationship with Alcina grew more profound and passionate. She wasn’t just spoiling you with her wealth anymore—though she did love to see you dressed in the finest clothes and accessories—but there was a deep connection between you two that transcended the material world. Her affection had shifted into something tender, something that felt like home. She had started trusting you with more of her personal life, and her once-impenetrable walls had crumbled in your presence.
One afternoon, Alcina decided to take you shopping in one of the most exclusive boutiques in town. She had mentioned a gala was coming up, and of course, you needed to be dressed to perfection for the event. As you entered the store, you were greeted by the staff as if you were royalty. Alcina’s commanding presence made it clear that this was no ordinary shopping trip—she wanted to spoil you, and nothing was off-limits.
Her eyes scanned the racks of elegant dresses, pausing at a sleek, black gown that immediately caught her attention. She turned to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I think I’ve found the one for you, darling,” she purred, holding the dress up for you to see.
The gown was stunning—long, with a dangerously high slit on one side that promised to show just enough to make hearts race. You could already feel Alcina’s eyes tracing the path that the dress would reveal.
“I’ll try it on,” you said, your heart already pounding.
The boutique’s fitting rooms were just as luxurious as the rest of the store, complete with velvet curtains and gilded mirrors. As you slipped into the dress, you could feel the fabric hugging your body in all the right places. It was a perfect fit—sensual and elegant, just the kind of look Alcina loved on you.
You stepped out of the fitting room to show Alcina, her gaze locking onto you immediately. Her golden eyes darkened with a familiar, smoldering intensity as she drank in the sight of you in the dress.
“Turn around for me,” she said, her voice low, but there was a fire beneath it.
You obliged, slowly turning so she could see every angle. The slit of the dress revealed the smooth curve of your thigh, and you could feel her gaze lingering there. The air between you grew thick with tension as she stood up, her towering form moving closer.
“You look exquisite,” she murmured, her fingers lightly brushing against the exposed skin of your thigh. The simple touch sent a jolt of heat through your body, and you swallowed hard, trying to focus.
Before you could say anything, Alcina’s hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer. Her breath was hot against your ear as she whispered, “I can’t resist you like this.”
Her lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine. You tried to keep your composure, but her proximity, her scent, the way her hands caressed you—it was overwhelming. The fitting room suddenly felt far too small for the desire crackling between you.
“We’re in public,” you managed to whisper, though your voice was shaky with need.
Alcina chuckled softly, her lips brushing against your earlobe. “Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?”
Before you could protest further, Alcina was guiding you back into the fitting room, pulling the curtain closed behind her with a swift motion. The space felt even more intimate with her towering figure crowding you against the mirror. She tilted your chin up, her golden eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.
Her lips crashed onto yours, and all thoughts of resistance vanished. The kiss was deep, demanding, and you melted into her touch, your hands gripping her shoulders as if to steady yourself. Her hands slid down the curve of your waist, fingers grazing the slit of the dress as she traced the bare skin beneath.
The heat between you was undeniable. Alcina’s touch was firm yet gentle, her lips moving against yours with a raw passion that sent waves of desire coursing through you. Her hands explored your body with practiced ease, and it wasn’t long before you were both lost in the moment, the world outside fading away.
Her lips left a burning trail down your neck, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric of the dress as she whispered against your skin, “I want you, here and now.”
Your breath hitched, and you nodded, unable to form coherent words. You didn’t care that you were in a fitting room, or that anyone could walk in at any moment. All that mattered was the way Alcina made you feel—desired, cherished, and utterly consumed by her touch.
As the intensity between you deepened, her lips found yours once again, and you surrendered completely to the moment. The fitting room became your world, and Alcina was all you could think about—her touch, her scent, the way she made you feel like you were the only person that mattered.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she move your lacy panties to the side, teasing your clit with her feather like touches.
"I know, sweet girl." She coos as you whine at her teasing, she made sure you were nice and wet for her. She coats her fingers with your juices before finally inserting her fingers into your aching hole.
Her hand pat your head as you rest your forehead on her shoulder, biting your lips as you contain your moans and whimpers. “Shh, darling,” she whispered soothingly. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know, would we?” she gently pull your hair back as she asked you, all you could do was gave her a nod as another whimper escaped your lips.
"Leg up, sweet girl." she wrap your leg around her waist, giving her better access and her fingers going deeper, your head resting against the mirror as her fingers continued to thrust sporadically against your walls.
Eyes closed, lips bitten, strained moans and whimpers
This woman knows what she's doing and she does it so well.
"Everything alright in there ma'am?" Your body jolts in shock as the staff knocks on the door, Alcina immediately brings her hand around your mouth. Her fingers thrusting faster and curling simultaneously in that spot, she smiled as your eyes widen then rolled back.
"Everything's all good." She answered the woman calmly as you fell apart against her fingers, Alcina kiss your forehead as the woman kept talking.
"Alright ma'am, if you're settled with your dresses just come to the cashier and we'll assist you." The woman said, unaware of what's happening just a few steps from her. Sweats are forming on your forehead as you feel your whole body warming.
"We're definitely coming." Alcina removes her hand as the oblivious woman walk away. "Come for me darling." With that your whole body follow her sweet words, trembling against her fingers, high-pitched moans and whimpers left you while your cum drips down her fingers.
Legs shaking as she let you rode your orgasm before pulling out, stroking your hair as you catch your breath. Alcina whisper sweet words and encouragement to you, kissing you as she muttered how good you are for her. You rest your head on her shoulder, nuzzling your face on her neck as she stroke your back.
The world outside could wait. Here, in this moment, it was just the two of you, tangled in a web of desire and affection that felt both overwhelming and perfect. And as Alcina whispered your name against your skin, you knew that this was more than just a fling, more than just a casual romance.
This was something real. Something powerful. And you were all in.
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lieutenant-amuel · 1 year
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Yayyy, guess who’s just finished writing the next chapter of her fic.
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solannn · 6 months
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can i request an x bttm male reader with chuuya from bsd? you can choose any other kinks you want, i just really love your writing!
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🍷┆ ╰┈➤ 𝜗𝜚 ┈ but would you love me if I ruled the world, world, world ?
🍷┆ ╰┈➤ ┈ warnings : male!reader, smut, fem&minors dni, cum eating, penetration, creampie etc.
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Chuuya has been his boyfriend for while now. He was great boyfriend, he offered him fancy gift or fancy dates at home, sometimes outside. It was romantic, he would open one of his wine’s of collection. He would never do that with anyone expect his lover, [Name]
They prefer dates, inside of their sharing apartment. [Name] would set the table and cook something for them, sometimes Chuuya does it. ( when’s the one who proposed the date night )
It was Thursday, after a day of work for both of them, they decided to stay home. They desired to go out, together but the mission drained them off, too lazy to go outside. The [dark/fair] haired male decided to cook for both of them.
The ginger haired male helped his partner by setting the table and also putting cutlery and plate. Once the taller male finished to cook the dinner, he took it and carry It to the dinning room.
They both sat and ate, they also talked about how horrible was their mission. Chuuya complained about Dazai’s curiosity and stupidity, wanting to know how his boyfriend was doing. It makes him chuckle, and tease his loved one.
After eating, Chuuya open one of his wine, his favorite flavor. He served himself several times, almost finished half of the bottle. The shorter also took some, he wasn’t as drunk as him, but rather tipsy.
His s/o was rambling, about something barely understandable to him. His drunken behavior was cute and so adorable to watch.
he went down to go under the table and headed between chuuya's thighs. His sudden movement, make the shorter male’s legs jolted. His partner’s head was on his member. [Name]’s was warm, because of the alcohol and heat. He felt something getting hard on his chin.
He stared at it and unbulcked the redhead’s pants. He had better view of his member. He remove the underwear a little, to let the dick breath. Maybe that was where went all his height. (passing to he/him —> you/yours)
He kissed the tips, It was already leaking precum. Chuuya groaned as he grabbed your hair forcing you to put It in your mouth. You choked on his member, tears flowed down your [rosy/ warm] cheeks. You wrapped your hands as you sucked him off.
Nakahara praised you about who great you making him feel. You felt a sticky liquid fulling your mouth up. Chuuya spoke, saying you shouldn’t swallow it, but you did the opposite and swallow.
You stuck your tongue show him, that you consumed it. This make Chuuya’s cock hard again, desiring to fuck you.
He took your face, and leaned to kiss your soft lips, roughly. You moaned, letting him the chance for him to pushed his tongue further into your mouth. The making out session was rough, yet so passionate. Your tongues were dancing together.
You tried to get up from your crouching position but your head hits against the table. You groaned at the pain as the red haired male deadpanned at you.
You finally got yourself out, and took off your pant with your underwear. It revealed the member’s of yours. You walked toward him, without really being consious of your drunk act. You sat on your bf’s thighs as your wrapped your right arm around his neck.
Before you could use your free arm, chuuya grabbed your hips, and starts grinding his hold on top of his cock. Your hole rubbed chuuya’s dick, making him groan loudly.
His cock was leaking precum inside you as you started to ride him. The pleasure was driving you both insane, nearly letting you think straight.
[Name] rode chuuya, their powerful hips slamming together in sync. The room was filled with moans. The feeling of your hole squeezing, make his cock twitched violently.
Chuuya was in pure ecstasy, the tightness wall of it makes him want to cum. He couldn’t wait any longer, a white sticky liquid tainted the walls of yours. Your legs were trembling, the cum flowed to your thighs. You tiredly put your head on his shoulder and close your eyes.
Chuuya kissed your neck, leaving a mark on it. He grinned staring at your tired self.
A/N; kinda shitty i did this late at night and this morning so might have no consistency 😣
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aphroditelovesu · 9 months
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Hello. Can you write yandere husband Jaehaerys i Targaryen ?
❝ 🔥 — lady l: I got a little carried away, I'm not going to lie. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💚
❝tw: none, just fluff and soft!yandere.
❝🔥pairing: yandere!jaehaerys i targaryen x female!reader.
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Jaehaerys married you before he became King. He had known you for a long time and your house was noble enough that he could marry you without any problems or many complaints and he did so as soon as you were both old enough to do so. He couldn't wait any longer to have you for himself.
Normally he should marry his sister, but he didn't want to. He wanted you. You had known each other since childhood and Jaehaerys knew that he could not marry any other woman but you. Not when he already loved you from that time. And you were perfect for him, not only was your lineage noble and good but you were good for him.
Jaehaerys had made all the right preparations. He had checked your background and was always meticulous about you. He loved you, but he would be King one day and he needed to be careful about his marriage and his future Queen.
He wanted to establish a bond with you, something emotional so that your marriage didn't depend solely on politics. Jaehaerys used to send you letters, telling you stories about the Targaryens and about him. And in return, you were give him letters about yourself and stories that you read in books.
Once the arrangements were made, he was very satisfied. You could become his wife and he your husband. He was eager for you to officially become his. He couldn't wait to start having children with you.
The wedding was grand, as expected of a future King and you looked absolutely stunning. As a future Queen should be.
Handmade, your dress was made with lush fabrics and intricate details, it exuded an aura of romance and tradition. Delicate embroidery adorned your bodice, reminiscent of the patience and skill of dedicated artisans. Your skirt flowed like a dream, with layers of tulle and lace that danced in the wind, while your train dragged along the floor, leaving a trail of stories of eternal love wherever you went.
The wedding night had been good and pleasant for both parties. Jaehaerys delighted in taking you as his wife, in touching you and giving you pleasure while also hoping to impregnate you. The way his kisses were sweet and his fingers touched you left you breathless.
The marriage with Jaehaerys was pleasant and you learned to love your husband despite his possessive and protective behavior. You assumed this was how a husband who loved his wife was supposed to behave, so you didn't mind. You were happy and your husband seemed perfect.
So kind and passionate, there wasn't a day that went by where he wasn't looking at you with heart eyes, his purple eyes sparkling when you caught him looking at you. He loved it even more when your face was red, not knowing what to do with the looks of your husband. So innocent and so his.
You were spoiled and pampered to no end, he doesn't have any kind of financial care to spoil you, you were his wife, nothing more fair than fulfilling all your desires and whims. Everyone must obey your orders without blinking or they will have to deal with Jaehaerys.
Once he became King and you officially received the title Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you played a large role in his politics. You presided over his council and gave your opinion, to the chagrin of some lords and the delight of your husband who trusted you completely.
You were not only his wife, someone who was only supposed to bear him children, but also an advisor, a Queen, valued by Jaehaerys, collaborating with him in matters of state and being a shrewd mind behind the important decisions of the realm.
Jaehaerys showed his affection in subtle ways sometimes, such as leaving little surprises for you at unexpected times, like flowers in your chambers or gifts made especially for you, showing his affection in subtle and discreet ways.
You took time to travel together, exploring the lands of the Seven Kingdoms, strengthening your bond not only with each other, but with the other Lords, and creating precious memories outside of royal compromises.
Jaeherys was your perfect husband, he put you above everything else and did whatever you wanted. He loves you deeply and just wants you to be happy. He trusts you like no one else and you have all the power over him. Even more so when you get pregnant with your first child.
You have the King on his knees for you whenever you want. He is yours and you are his. He was always yours.
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Indefinite hiatus
I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.
Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.
Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.
Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.
I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.
To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.
I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.
And that's all I've got to say for now.
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bruhnze · 1 month
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Personal records - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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This is for the pookie that asked. Thank you @okaybronze i had fun writing this, this one is dedicated to you!
Thank you to this, this, this, this and thisssss anon. (you guys sure know how to inspire me)
Summary: This is in an alternative universe where Ona and Lucy are not footballers. Lucy is a personal trainer, Ona is a buisnesswoman.
Wordcount: a bigggggg one 12k+, so i advise to get comfy
Warnings: Minors DNI, smut. It has a lottt of plot bcs i got carried away, but what's new :)
I hope you like it, and i hope i didn't make any mistakes while copy-pasting this thing to here, as this was quite the big one and i proofread in Word so.. if something doesn't make sense, you can ask me, i think i did it right tho :)
Personal Records.
The Batlle family was one of the richest families on the whole planet of earth. In the last years of his working life, Ona's grandfather had completely invested in the internet and technology. His eldest son, Ona's father, had taken over the business and helped it to even greater success. They dominated the tech industry, from hospital equipment to mobile phones and coffee machines.
With so much money and only two children, Ona and her brother Joan were doing anything but bad.
Yet, especially since she had that head start, Ona wanted to create a legacy of her own. Unlike Joan, who filled his time with vacations and his DJ career.
But Ona’s passion wasn’t tech, she liked using her iPhone, yes, but she had no special talent or interest in the subject.
No. Her passion was architecture. She had studied it in college and with her dad paying her tuition,  it gave her all the time in the world to go networking at business events. One thing led to another, and by the age of 20 she already owned 15 buildings.
Now, just after her 25th birthday, she had a portfolio of hundreds of buildings and apartments, and was a very well-known high-class real estate agent all over Europe.
She didn’t like the way her life was filled to the brim with meeting after meeting and the fact that she sometimes felt like she was living in airplanes more than in buildings, the thing she loved most in the world, but it was worth it if she could once again sell a characteristic old building to the right owner.
That was the most perfect thing about her profession in Ona’s opinion, sometimes a house was perfect for a certain type of person, she couldn't explain it, it was just a feeling, but when she closed such a deal, it was one of the few moments that Ona could feel a little bit of satisfaction and happiness flowing through her body.
This had been a problem for a long time, she had been through some difficult years, feeling lonely at times and working far too hard without having an outlet.
After talking to some professionals and trying a few things, Ona discovered what worked perfectly for her: so she hired a personal assistant and got on weekly exercise sessions.
Sophia was a perfect PA, she was a 33 year old woman who was dedicated to work just as much as Ona was and most of all she could speak English perfectly, as she was from the United Kingdom. That was exactly what Ona needed as she got most tired from answering all the endless calls that she received.
The exercising also worked out perfectly. Her PA always found a personal trainer for her, no matter what city they were staying in. The first few months Ona really had to get in shape, but now she always came back with a wonderfully empty head after sweating for those two hours and of course, the six-pack she ended up with was also a great bonus.
This summer she had to spend in London, it was not really her preferred place to be for the next month or two, as English summers were not really something to write home about, but with the deals she had waiting for her, she happily went.
What also helped was the beautiful apartment she had in the center of London, overlooking the bridge, it was one of her favorite houses.
But besides the deals she had to close, she also wanted to relax and exercise a bit. Maybe she would even have time to go shopping.
Wednesday – Ona’s penthouse, London
A week before the big deal, Sophia and Ona arrived in London.
"Miss Batlle," the doorman said, as they walked into the building where Ona ‘lived’, or at least she did for 1 or 2 months a year. She was surprised they guy remembered and greeted him happily.
‘’You sure you don’t want an hotel room?’’ Ona asked as they were standing in the elevator.
Sophia shook her head, ‘’for me it’s easier to be close to you, safes me travel time’’ she sincerely confirmed, ‘’oh gosh, do you want some privacy, I’m sorry I didn’t-
‘’No, no, está bien’’ Ona smiled, ‘’I admire your work ethic, I was just wondering if you didn’t miss privacy’’.
‘’Well your penthouse is very big’’ Sophia smiled, ‘’and it’s not like I have a husband to call or something’’.
‘’Yeah’’ Ona grinned, ‘’our love lives are doomed’’.
A careful smile tugged on Sophia’s mouth, ‘’well, it has been a while since I had to leave space for a date in your schedule’’.
Ona smiled internally at the way Sophia got more and more comfortable with her, she was usually very professional, something Ona admired, but sometimes she felt Sophia and her could be friends a bit more, as she suspected her PA was actually a pretty funny person.
‘’It has’’ Ona confirmed, ‘’i'm basically celibate at this point’’, she added chuckling.
‘’Ona!’’.
At the same time the elevator stopped at the top floor with a ding.
‘’It is true though’’, Ona said as she stepped out the elevator to open the door ‘’maybe I should add searching dating sites to your to do’s’’.
Sophia groaned as she followed her, ‘’I’ll do it if you would really want that, but I do want to show you my current to do list before’’.
‘’I’m joking Soph’’ Ona said as she took of her heels and dropped her handbag, ‘’I trust you a lot, but, I do think love is something that just needs to happen, I don’t believe in dating apps’’.
‘’Well I do think you need to go out to make that happen’’ Sophia chuckled, ‘’or are you hoping to have a really hot woman buying a house off of you?’’.
‘’Hmm’’, Ona said as she walked into the big living area and stared outside of the windows, ‘’that would be the best thing ever, and I’d know she got taste’’.
Laughing Sophia walked in behind her, pulling her suitcase along ‘’do I got the same room as last time?’’.
‘’Mhm’’.
Sophia laughed to herself as she walked to the familiar room she had slept in before, recognizing that Ona had entered her thoughtful mode, something that often happened in places with a good view, and when Ona was thinking it was best not to disturb her.
..
They had ordered dinner, a bit tired from the travel they had decided to eat in and discussing the details of their work trip and calling it an early night.
Sophia had already set up meetings with various clients in a rented meeting room, made a list with properties they needed to visit and when the viewings would be and had booked a personal trainer.
‘’Sadly she is only available once a week’’ Sophia had said, knowing Ona liked to exercise two times a week for two hours, ‘’but she was the only one available in this period, apparently most trainers have this thing called -summer break-‘’ she joked, ‘’but she is really good, I read a dozen of reviews and she also trains athletes when they’re in between seasons’’.
‘’She?’’ Ona asked after the PA was done talking.
Sophia stilled, ‘’oh is that not-
‘’It’s okay, just surprised’’.
‘’I read she can be quite the pusher, helping people break their personal records’’.
Ona laughed, ‘’well I hope she doesn’t expect such a level of me’’.
Sophia frowned, ‘’you’re well fit, I’ve seen you in the pool, you have a killer body’’.
‘’Aesthetics is different to performance’’ Ona decided, ‘’anyways, thanks for arranging that, you’re the best’’.
..
Friday morning – Ona’s penthouse
‘’Okay I’m heading out to the gym then’’ Ona called through the living space.
‘’Have fun’’ Sophia called back, ‘’don’t break too many personal records!’’.
..
Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge
It was a nice building, Ona was pleased as she walked inside to search for the gym owned by one ‘Lucy Bronze’.
Ona thought it was a perfect name for a business owner and she liked the way the nameplates that showed the way were also done in Bronze, it was chic.
The Catalan businesswoman got to the front desk and told the lady behind it her name.
"Ah for Bronze herself" the lady smiled, "you may use dressing room 2, you will recognize it by the number on the door, when you've changed you just go through the other door in the changing room and then you're in the gym".
"Great. Thank you." Ona said in her business voice. It just happened whenever she spoke to people that were working.
"You can leave your bag inside the changing room but we've also got lockers".
"It's okay" Ona said, "only have some clothes with me".
The changing room looked very nice, Ona appreciated the way that this whole place was set up, it was not clinical or characterless, but it was very neat.
After changing, Ona went into the gym.
A dark-haired woman, just a little taller than her stood with her back to the door, the silhouette was muscular built, broad shoulders protruding from the tank top she wore.
Ona cleared her throat, ´´hello´´.
 The woman turned around from what she was doing and met her with a smile, ´´oh hey´´ she said, ´´uhm´´, she strutted over to Ona and offered her hand, ´´Lucy´´.
´´Ona´´, Ona replied as she mirrored the smile Lucy was wearing. Ona was delighted to notice the woman infront of was rather hot, but she didn´t want to be objectifying and most of all, she was here to clear her head, not to drool over a woman. So she shook the thought from her head and focused back on what she was here for.
´´So´´ Lucy said as she retracted her hand.
Only then Ona realized she was shaking it for a little too long.
´´Oh yes, I´m here for a two hour training session´´.
´´Yes´´ Lucy chuckled, Ona thought it made her look cute, ´´so what are we working with, you didn´t attach a schedule or any of your records or something, did you bring them?´´.
‘’What?’’ Ona said confused, ‘’records?’’.
‘’Yeah what field are you in?’’ Lucy tried, ‘’What do you need working on this summer?’’.
‘’Ohhh’’ Ona breathed out with a laugh, realizing what Lucy was thinking, ‘’I am not an athlete’’.
Lucy scrunched her nose and her head turned slightly in confusion, ‘’not?’’.
‘’No I’m town for business and I always train with a personal trainer, my PA booked you’’.
‘’Oh’’.
‘’Do you not train, uh, regular people?’’.
‘’Oh uh, yes’’, Lucy blushed.
‘’But?’’.
‘’Okay no offense’’ Lucy said carefully, ‘’but they’re usually.. a bit.. older’’.
Now it was Ona’s turn to be confused, ‘’why?’’.
‘’it’s expensive’’ Lucy said, hating herself for being so awkward.
‘’ohhh’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’well we better spend those expensive minutes good, shall we?’’.
‘’Yeah I’m sorry, I’m trying to work on that whole -not judging people by their cover- thing’’.
‘’It’s okay’’ Ona said cheerfully ‘’I come to clear my head before I have some important meetings next week’’.
‘’Great’’, Lucy said as she had called herself back to her senses ‘’and how can I help you with that’’.
‘’Well, I always go to a personal trainer because I don’t know anything about training, so I just - listen, do it and enjoy the muscle ache the day after’’.
‘’Hey’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’people always call me crazy when I say - I enjoy that’’.
Ona shrugged, ‘’one of the few things that make me feel alive’’.
“Okay, so you want to get completely worn out” Lucy chuckled, “we’ll make that happen”.
Ona gulped as Lucy took off, damn, this woman was cute.
They had been working out for almost 2 hours without much talking, Ona enjoyed it, Lucy respected the fact that she was doing this for relaxation, not for dumb chit chat, she hated when trainers were like that.
‘’Do you have a neck issue?’’ Lucy asked out of the blue.
Ona looked up, surprised but not in a negative sense ‘’yeah, how did you notice?’’.
‘’It’s stiff’’ Lucy stated, ‘’ I graduated as a sports physiotherapist’’ she offered as an explanation.
‘’Really?’’.
 ‘’Yes and right now I’m working on some injury research, stretching and massages are a great interventions for stiffness’’.
‘’So next time we start with neck stretches?’’ Ona joked.
Lucy nodded, ‘’best recipe is stretching – exercise – tissue massage’’.
''Well then, guess I'll do that next time, sometimes my neck really hurts, so I hope it will help''.
‘’Your neck hurts?’’.
‘’Yes, I always just assume it’s my stress traveling to my weak spot’’.
‘’Do you want me to massage that right now really quick? We’ve got-‘’ she looked at her watch, ‘’-10 minutes left’’.
‘’You?’’ Ona let out before she could stop herself.
Lucy crooked her head ‘’yeah?’’ she laughed, ‘’who else?’’.
‘’Ahh’’ Ona chuckled as she spotted the physio bench in the corner of the gym, ''that's where that thing is for''.
‘’Yup’’ Lucy said as she swayed on her feet, ‘’So cooling down? Or quick rub down of the neck?’’.
‘’Well if you’re offering..’’ Ona said as she looked at the big hands Lucy fiddled with, ‘’I do have to warn you that I’m a bit sweaty’’.
Lucy chuckled, ‘’if you weren’t I wouldn’t be good at my job’’.
...
Friday - Ona's penthouse
‘’Hello’’, Ona called out as she stepped back into her apartment. She felt amazing, Lucy was great with her hands and after the hot shower she took, she felt totally relaxed.
‘’How was it?’’, Sophia asked from behind her computer.
‘’fucking amazing’’ Ona said dreamily, before she stepped into the living room and snapped back to reality, ‘’uh yeah, it was good’’.
Sophia chuckled, ‘’whattt happeneddddd?’’.
‘’She’s hot’’ Ona said as she went through the fridge, ‘’and great with her hands’’.
‘’WHAT?’’ Sophia yelped, ‘’did you hook up with her?’’.
‘’Oh dios mío Soph! no, who do you think I am!’’ Ona shook her head amused, ‘’she gave me a sports massage’’.  
‘’Ohhh, hot and handy’’ Sophia chuckled.
‘’You sure you couldn’t book her for more than once a week?’’.
‘’I’ll try again for you’’ Sophia said with a grin, ‘’maybe I can book her for some nightly exercises’’.
‘’Soph!’’ Ona said sternly, ‘’no objectification!’’.
‘’Sorry miss Batlle’’ Sophia answered timidly, ‘’I’ll call them later’’.
‘’It’s okay’’ Ona smiled, ‘’thanks for getting groceries’’ she said as she took eggs from the fridge.
...
Tuesday evening - Bronze Fitness Forge, London
It was a couple of days later, Sophia had bribed Lucy Bronze’s secretary if she could at least ask the woman herself if she could do a couple of more lessons, ‘’Hello, yes, Miss Batlle’s PA, uhm, my boss, she wants to exercise two times a week and I was wondering if you had some more spaces available, she doesn’t mind if it’s outside of office hours, or if it costs extra’’.
Eventually she had persuaded the woman, one and a half times the rate for two hours in the evening, when Lucy actually exercised herself.
Sophia didn't mind making a little effort, she was just happy that Ona was okay with the trainer, that couldn’t always be said.
So this night, at a quarter to eight, Ona walked towards the building with the ‘Bronze Fitness Forge’ logo and headed in.
‘’Hey, miss Batlle’’ Lucy called out from a few meters behind and started jogging towards the door.
Ona held it open for her, ‘’you can call me Ona’’ she said as she let the woman pass.
‘’Oh right, hi Ona’’ Lucy smiled awkwardly, ‘’uhm, to the gym?’’.
‘’Mhmm’’.
Lucy unlocked the door and let Ona in, out of habit Ona walked to dressing room 2, the one she’d used earlier this week too.
Lucy hesitated about what to do, she cringed at herself, she wished she was a bit smoother, ''hey uhm, my stuff is also in 2'' she said as she stopped the door from closing.
''Oh'', Ona looked up, ''i can go to the other-
'''No i'll just take my bag'' Lucy rushed to say.
''Oh no'' Ona said, ''it doesn't bother me, you can change in here as far as I'm concerned''.
‘’O-Okay’’ Lucy said as she looked at the smaller woman, ‘’sure you don’t mind?’’.
Ona looked up with a smile, ‘’should I?’’.
Lucy looked startled ‘’No no, I was just --’’ she mumbled and swallowed the rest of the sentence.
Ona zipped her bag open and got her gym shoes out, she now stood with her back to Lucy, ‘’anyways, had a good dinner?’’ she asked, trying to start some conversation.
‘’Uh yeah’’ Lucy said, now also starting to get her things ‘’I cooked some chicken and vegetables’’.
‘’Nice’’ Ona said as she shimmied down her pants.
Lucy gaze fell on the Spaniards behind, she shook her head, she couldn’t be looking at a client like this, ‘’d-did you have a good dinner?’’ she asked, taking of her shirt.
Ona turned around and sat down on the bench to put her shorts on ‘’yeah I had-‘’  she lagged as she saw the shirtless woman infront of her, who was currently standing with her arms up, struggling to find her arm holes it seemed, she cleared her throat ‘’uhm, I had a business dinner, it was nice but sometimes I get a bit tired of it’’.
Lucy’s head popped up and they looked at eachother. Lucy smiled, ‘’is that why you needed more exercise?’’.
Ona didn’t feel the need to explain anything, frankly, there was not really anything to explain. She had settled for one time a week as she hadn’t known the woman was hot an amazing personal trainer, now that she knew, her assistant had booked her some more time, so she settled on just saying ‘’yes’’.
‘’What branch are you in anyways?’’ Lucy asked as she switched her pants.
‘’Uhm’’ Ona said as she took of her top, ‘’I am a real estate agent’’.
‘’Really’’ Lucy stared at her, partly because she was surprised, partly because the woman looked mesmerizing.
Ona sat up and digged through her bag, it was awkward that she still had to put on her sports bra ‘’yes, I have real estate in a few cities throughout Europe’’ she said and finally found the sports bra. She figured she just had to put no attention to it and quickly get it over with.
Bronze sat down to put her shoes on, ‘’oh.. real estate in a few cities throughout Europe’’ she repeated, ‘’impressive’’.
‘’Thanks’’ Ona said as she took her bra of, ‘’your business is too’’ she turned her head to Lucy ‘’how old are you anyways?’’.
Lucy looked up and blushed when she saw Ona’s bare back, ‘’uhm, I’m 32, and you?’’.
Ona smiled at her, ‘’25’’.
‘’Ah shit, we aren't past your bedtime, are we?’’ Lucy mocked and grinned.
Ona clutched her sports bra infront of her chest and turned around with narrowed eyes, ‘’don’t mock me’’ she said sternly, like how she’d put her workers in place. She had dealt with enough age discrimination, it annoyed her that Lucy did this.
Lucy apologized ‘’oh I’m sorry.. uhm.. I didn’t mean it like that’’. Ona turned around and quickly pulled the sports bra on,.
‘’Uhm, I will start to set up some things, see you in a bit’’ Lucy said before she quickly rushed out of the locker room.
Ona finished dressing up by putting her shoes on and followed her.
‘’Hey I’m sorry, it’s just-  Ona stopped as she saw Lucy carrying a weight plate to the matts.
Lucy smiled ‘’I’m sorry too, I am a bit stupid sometimes, you should take everything I say with a pinch of salt.. i suck at talking to people that’s why I chose sports’’.
‘’-sometimes people do not take me serious because of my age’’ Ona confessed, ‘’it’s a bit of a sensitive topic for me’’.
‘’I am sorry’’, Lucy said sincerely.
Ona shook her head, ‘’you’re aloud to make jokes, I should be able to deal with them’’.
‘’Noted, see if I can help you improve on that front too’’ Lucy grinned.
‘’too?’’.
‘’Oh yeah-‘’ Lucy said with renewed energy, ‘’I mean, I was going to ask you about it - but by the way you move, I think your neck feels better’’.
Ona smiled, ‘’oh soo much, I have had the best days honestly, how could I forget - I wanted to thank you for it, I feel so… loose, uh, supple’’.
Lucy held her hands up, ‘’magic hands’’ she said with a wink. Immediately cringing at herself.
Ona laughed, ‘’they seem to be’’.
‘’So’’ Lucy cleared her throat, ‘’stretching, than exercising, which I will leave you to do a bit more on your own than last time because I need to do mine as well, and then last 20 minutes another tissue massage’’.
‘’Sounds good’’.
The stretching went well, Ona learned a few exercises she had never done before, 'good for the back and neck' Lucy had said, and had followed them all before the real work started.
Lucy finished her warm up a bit earlier than she did, which made sense, as she had been warming up all day and she went to set up some weights for herself.
When Bronze started squatting weights with her back to Ona, she couldn´t help but have peek every once in a while.
After her lunges were done Ona asked what she was doing next.
Lucy proposed for Ona to do a bit of cardio on the stair-master, a machine she hated, but Ona agreed and went on it.
Lucy kept squatting, Ona saw her adding small, little plates to the bar each time she got it.
After a few minutes, the Spaniards thoughts got interrupted, the low grunts were swapped with a yelp, she was startled and almost fell of the stair-master, luckily enough she could jump of in one piece and put the machine off.
‘’What happened?’’ Ona said as she walked towards the English trainer.
Lucy looked up as she undid her waistbelt and wrist wraps, ‘’hm?’’.
Ona came closer, ‘’it sounded like you were in pain’’.
‘’Oh’’ Lucy said as she looked better at Ona, ‘’no I just broke my squatting record’’.
 Ona chuckled.
‘’Wait did it sound like was in pain?’’ Lucy laughed now too, ‘’I don’t know what to think of that’’.
‘’Well I’m glad you’re alive’’.
‘’and broke my PR’’.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’how much was it?’’.
‘’139,5 kg’’ (307.5 lbs) Lucy stated as she took out her phone, ‘’let me put it in my notes real quick and then I’m all yours again, I’m sorry for just directing you to the cardio machine, I had this on my agenda for tonight’’.
‘’You have a schedule for when you’re gonna break which record?’’ Ona laughed.
After Lucy had typed it in her phone she looked up, ‘’is that weird?’’.
‘’No’’ Ona shrugged, ‘’I like when people are driven’’.
‘’How much is your squatting PR’’.
Ona laughed, ‘’not even half of what you do, I think 50 kg, and that includes the bar’’.
Lucy chuckled, ‘’want to do 55?’’.
´´Let´s see if I can do 50 first maybe?’’.
Lucy first had her squat the bar alone and with 5kg increments she guided Ona to a 50kg squat.
At 50kg Ona had trouble getting up, her legs shaking as she did a rep for the 3rd time. She felt Lucy stepping a bit closer, ''you can do it'' Lucy said, ''and if not, I got you''.
Instead of feeling more at ease, Ona became more nervous. She felt Lucy's hands hovering just above her skin.
When she remained in her squatting position, with wobbly legs, Lucy held her sides, ''together then''.
With a little help, Ona stood up again, and immediately she racked the weight and stepped forward, shaking her legs.
‘’Legs tired from the stair machine?’’ Lucy asked.
Ona nodded ‘’think so, maybe next time we can try again’’.
‘’Oh we are’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’and now you’re doing 45, 3 sets of 4 reps’’ she said as she started changing weights.
‘’I don’t know if i-‘’
‘’-I believe in you’’ Lucy cut her off, ‘’and I’m spotting you so if you can’t I’ll help’’.
Ona looked at her with dark eyes, ‘’let’s just do something else’’.
Lucy’s head tilted, ‘’no, why?’’.
‘’I’m tired of squats’’ Ona said, mostly because she was and partly because she didn’t want to fail and have Lucy saving her, as she got way to distracted by the way she felt under their skin contact.
‘’Do your other trainers just accept that?’’ Lucy asked as she finished preparing the bar of weights, she stood infront of Ona now, ‘’in 5 sessions I’ll have you squat 55’’.
 Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I don’t care about how much I can squat’’.
The English woman grinned, ‘’no but you did ask me to help you get sore muscles, If you just listen to me I can guarantee you will not be able to walk the stairs tomorrow, how does that sound?”.
Again Ona rolled her eyes, this time with a little smile ‘’fine’’ she said before quietly adding ‘’molest’’. (annoying person).
They took positions again, but Lucy stood a bit closer then last time. Ona was almost going to make a comment about needing room to breath when Lucy whispered something, ‘’think of your most annoying rival’’.
Ona took the weights on her shoulder, she figured to just ignore Lucy and started squatting, the first 4 went easy.
She racked the bar and stepped forward to shake her legs again.
‘’See, that helped’’, Lucy said ‘’come, another set’’.
‘’Your comment did nothing’’ Ona said, getting slightly annoyed at the woman.
‘’Oh’’ Lucy studied her face, ‘’sorry’’.
Ona took place under the weights again, ‘’okay, let’s get this over with’’.
With two squats her legs started quivering again.
Lucy let her figure it out by herself, she kept close, but didn’t say anything or touch her.
Ona took a deep breath and forced herself up with a deep breath out.
"Good job" Lucy said, but when Ona tried to hang the weight on the rack she was less pleased, "uh-huh, one more rep".
Ona groaned and kept standing there, doubtful about her abilities.
‘’Ona, one more’’ Lucy said sternly.
Ona was allergic to getting ordered around and almost wanted to stop but a fire lit inside her with Lucy’s next comment, ‘’what is it with youth and giving up’’.
She bit back a grumble and did one more squat easily before racking the bar again.
She shook her legs out while still being under the bar and after a few seconds she took it on her shoulders again, squatting with pure annoyance and anger, only at the last squat she had to do she struggled again.
‘’Is your anger already used up?’’ Lucy teased, ‘’I expected more spirit at such a young age’’.
With that she groaned and came up for a last time, angrily racking the weight.
‘’Good, shake it off and we’ll head to leg presses’’.
Ona turned around and looked at her instructor, ‘’more leg exercises’’ she grumbled.
Lucy grinned, ‘’I’ll talk to you on Friday, you’ll thank me’’.
Ona rolled her eyes and followed the English woman to the leg press.
After a long session it was finally time for the massage.
‘’You can take your shoes off, I’ll massage your lower body, back and neck’’ Lucy said.
Ona didn’t respond, ‘’sounds good?’’ Lucy tried.
‘’Oh yeah’’ Ona said tiredly, ‘’perfect’’ she said as she took off her shoes.
‘’Was I too harsh?’’.
Ona looked up at Lucy, ‘’hm, no’’.
‘’Sure?’’.
‘’Yeah I am, I’ll tell you if you go too far, I’m not shy about speaking my mind’’.
‘’Okay, good’’.
Lucy started massaging Ona’s leg and Ona couldn’t help but closer her eyes at how good it felt.
‘’Okay that was that, how do you feel?’’ Lucy said as she was done.
Ona smiled, ‘’great, thank you, I’m sorry if I came across as a bitch at one point’’.
Lucy grinned, ‘’at one point? Hmm..’’.
Ona slapped Lucy’s shoulder playfully, ‘’oh come on’’.
Lucy chuckled, ‘’I’m kidding, you don’t come across as a bitch’’ she looked at Ona with a mischievous grin, ‘’just a bit spoiled’’.
The Catalans mouth dropped open, ‘’I’m not spoiled!’’.
‘’I’m joking’’ Lucy said as she rested her hand on Ona’s forearm, ‘’I’m proud you finished those sets, that proves character’’.
‘’Oh’’ Ona furrowed her eyebrows, ‘’because I had a choice’’.
‘’Ofcourse’’ Lucy tilted her head, ‘’you just said you would speak your mind if you really didn’t want to do it’’.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’okay, maybe I did want to do it’’.
‘’Good’’ Lucy said with a smile as she withdrew her hand, ‘’well, you go shower, I have to clean up this place’’.
‘’I can help?’’.
‘’No’’ Lucy shook her head, ‘’I like to do it myself and I want to do a couple more exercises’’.
‘’You’re crazy’’.
‘’I’ll see you Friday’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’and then I’ll make you do even more, because you shouldn’t be able to be this much of a smartass if those exercises really were that hard for you’’.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’yeah see you Friday’’.
In the dressing room Ona jumped straight under the shower, after quickly washing herself and rinsing her hair out, she walked to her bag wrapped in a towel.
As she dug for clean underwear her phone rang, it was Sophia, she had a couple of questions about a client.
‘’Why are you still working Soph?’’ Ona chuckled but as she looked at the time her smile faded, ‘’no way, 22.45 already?’’.
Now it was Sophia’s time to laugh, ‘’yeah got a bit carried away exercising huh?’’.
‘’So it seems’’ Ona said ‘’anyways, for mister Potter you-
-did you ask her number yet?’’ Sophia interrupted her.
‘’Soph! that would not be professional’’ Ona said.
‘’You think she’s hot, what’s wrong with asking a number’’.
‘’Yeah she attractive’’ Ona confessed, ‘’but I don’t even know if she’s a lesbian, maybe she’s just sporty’’.
‘’So ask’’ Sophia simply said.
‘’No I-
A knock on the door interrupted her.
Ona looked up to see Lucy standing in the doorway, ‘’You forgot your shoes’’ she smiled.
Ona’s face got redder than the 2,5 kg weight plates that Lucy’s gym owned, ‘’oh uh thanks’’.
‘’No worries’’, Lucy said as her eyes lingered on Ona’s body for a second before she redirected herself to face Ona and , ‘’see you Friday’’.
‘’Yeah’’ Ona smiled, ‘’see you Friday’’.
Lucy turned around.
‘’Oh and’’ Ona called out.
Lucy turned back around with a smile.
‘’uh, thanks for my shoes’’ Ona said.
Lucy’s smile faded a little but she nodded, ‘’ofcourse’’.
The dressing room door fell closed behind her.
‘’Aahhhhhhgggg’’ Sophia screamed in her ear, ‘’I felt the sexual tension through the phone’’.
‘’Sophia!’’.
‘’What, you fumbled so hard, you said thanks twice, for a second I thought you were going to ask her number’’.
‘’Yeah’’ Ona sighed as she thought about the fact that she was originally planning too, before remembering she had Sophia on the phone, ‘’and give you a listen in on my rejection, don't think so’’.
Sophia groaned, ‘’she likes you too, why are you so uncertain’’.
‘’Why are you so sure, anyways we’ll talk about that client when I’m home’’.
...
Wednesday morning – Ona’s penthouse
It was the next day, Ona woke up in her big bed as the curtain automatically opened and stretched.
As she was completely stretched out, she suddenly shrank, ‘’merda’’ she groaned as a cramp hit her left leg, she tried to hold the muscle but it took a while before the cramp went away.
After the pain had disappeared she got out of bed, walking to the bathroom, when she wanted to lower herself to take place on the toilet she cringed, she couldn’t just normally take a seat, so she held the wall and let herself plop down.
When she got back to her room after peeing, she grabbed her phone to Google what she could do best in this situation.
A protein-rich breakfast, a warm bath and some stretching exercises later, she felt a little better and started her workday.
...
Friday morning - Bronze Fitness Forge
‘’Good morning Property Princess’’ Lucy said as Ona stepped into the gym.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’allright Lucy Lift-a-Lot, what are the plans for today’’.
Lucy grinned, ‘’how were your legs Wednesday?’’.
‘’Terrible’’ Ona smiled, ‘’so perfect’’.
‘’Stairs?’’.
‘’Well, I don’t really take those, but the toilet was a pain’’.
Lucy laughed, ‘’good, I suggest more squatting today’’.
Ona scrunched her face, ‘’not to much please, I have this event tomorrow’’.
‘’Work on Saturday?’’.
‘’Well no, it’s like networking event’’.
‘’Oh, is that one of those thing were you have a stand and promote your business’’.
 Ona chuckled, ‘’yeah, but i’m not there with a stand’’.
Lucy tilted her head.
‘’I got invited to look at peoples stands’’ Ona clarified.
‘’Isn’t that like..’’ Lucy didn’t finish her sentence.
‘’What?’’.
‘’Boring?’’.
‘’Yeah’’ Ona laughed, ‘’but its good for my image to show up, and the event payed me to show up’’.
‘’Really’’ Lucy said with disbelieve, ‘’so you’re actually a big name in the real estate world?’’.
‘’I guess’’ Ona shook her head as she laughed, anyways I’ll be bored out of my mind because Soph is taking this weekend off to see her family’’.
‘’Soph?’’.
‘’’Sophia, my PA’’ Ona clarified.
‘’Oh right’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’she was on the phone bribing me’’.
‘’Bribing?’’.
‘’Yeah, you wanted two sessions a week’’.
‘’Oh that’’ Ona nodded slowly, ‘’yeah, I hope she was sensible about it?’’.
‘’Oh yeah yeah, it was not actually bribing, she asked nicely’’.
‘’Good, but anyways, I will be walking around all day, so I need some power left in these legs’’.
Lucy nodded and explained some stretches they were starting with.
..
After the session, where they went a little less extreme as the last time, Lucy gave Ona a massage again. Whilst working her back she broke the silence, ‘’do you not know anyone else in London?’’.
Ona looked at her confused, ‘’what?’’.
‘’For the event, you said you have to go alone, do you not know someone you could take?’’.
Ona shrugged ‘’everyone is on holiday, it’s very last-minute anyways and I wouldn’t drag someone with, I wasn’t kidding when I said it was boring’’ she said into the table.
‘’I think it would be entertaining to see how you talk to everyone professionally’’ Lucy chuckled and acted out a conversation she imagined Ona would have with another realtor. She mockingly acted out the situation, putting on different voices.
Ona’s shoulders shook from her laughter, ‘’I think you will greatly disappointed’’ she laughed.
‘’Yeah?’’ Lucy sad as she put on a pouty face, ‘’is it not like that?’’.
‘’No not at all’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’way more boring’’.
‘’I don’t believe you’’ Lucy challenged.
‘’Well you’re free to join at your own risk’’.
Lucy’s face twisted up in a weird mischievous way, ‘’are you asking me out Batlle?’’.
Ona grinned, ‘’no, I offer you the position to be my plus one to a very boring event so you can entertain me’’.
‘’Well I am free tomorrow’’ Lucy contemplated, ‘’would you like me as your companion?’’.
‘’As long as you don’t publicly mock me’’ Ona rolled her eyes.
Lucy grinned, ‘’I’ll try to keep that for when were alone then’’.
Ona sat up and narrowed her eyes at the taller woman ‘’or like, not do it at all’’.
‘’I’ll see about that’’ Lucy grinned, ‘’what’s the dress code?’’.
‘’uhm, I think you’re best to wear a suit, a light color’’ Ona said as she studied Lucy, ‘’ if you have that’’.
‘’I don’t know’’ Lucy scrunched up her nose, ‘’I’ll have to dig through my closet’’.
‘’Send me a pic, if it’s not good I’ll send some things you could try on’’.
‘’are you going to judge if I look good enough to join your side’’ Lucy laughed, ‘’wow’’.
Ona shrugged, ‘’it’s a cruel world’’.
‘’fine’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’can I get your number?’’.
Ona looked at her with big eyes.
‘’Or do you want me to send Sophia that mirror pic?’’ Lucy grinned.
‘’Oh right, no we’ll exchange numbers, it’s more convenient for tomorrow too’’.
‘’How late is it anyways?’’.
They spoke about the details until Lucy noted that her new appointment would arrive in two minutes. With that Ona went to the changing room and got under the showers, she couldn’t hide the fact that the thought of spending tomorrow with Lucy made her feel giddy.
..
Friday afternoon – Ona’s penthouse
‘’Okay, I’ll see you Monday morning’’ Sophia said as she embraced Ona, ‘’have fun with your hot date’’.
Ona rolled her eyes but didn’t deny her PA’s words, ‘’you have fun at your parents’ house’’ she wished Soph.
‘’Mhm, I will’’ Sophia said as she walked towards the door with her suitcase, ‘’see you Monday!’’.
‘’Bye Soph’’ Ona called out as she got distracted by her phone buzzing.
An unsaved number had sent her texts, she opened her phone curiously.
@ Bronze Fitness Forge: hey, this is Lucy, hereby my outfit, hope you approve 😅
@ Bronze Fitness Forge: *mirror selfie of Lucy in a mint green suit with a white blouse*
@ Bronze Fitness Forge: ignore my bare feet, sorry, I’ll wear shoes tomorrow I promise
Ona changed the contact name to Lucy and texted back.
@ Ona Batlle: Looks good, what shoes do you plan on wearing?.
@ Lucy: sneakers?
@ Ona Batlle: no.
@ Lucy: i don’t have much else
@ Ona Batlle: what size are you?
@ Lucy: a UK size 7
Ona asked her for her address and ordered her a few shoes and a few white blouses, from a store she had great relations with, making them deliver the products before 10 o’clock tonight.
...
Friday night – Ona’s penthouse
@ Lucy: why did I just receive 4 pairs of shoes and 3 white blouses
@ Ona Batlle: fit them, see which you like best
@ Lucy: I have blouses
@ Ona Batlle: your suit is nice, can’t ruin it with a cheap blouse
@ Lucy: how can you recognize that from a picture
@ Ona Batlle: I got taste
@ Lucy: spoiled
@ Ona Batlle: do you want to come still?
@ Lucy: *3 pictures in the different blouses*
Ona admired the way Lucy’s arms looked in the blouses, the woman was well fit, with one particular blouse she swore she could even recognize the outline of abs.
She chuckled when she noticed the shorts Lucy was wearing, Barcelona football shorts.
@ Ona Batlle: nice shorts 😉
@ Lucy: shut up, which blouse.
@ Ona Batlle: deffo the one with the green buttons
@ Lucy: that one feels a bit tight
@ Ona Batlle: it looks good, but if you feel like it will rip, I’ll go for the one with the collar that’s got leaves on the inside.
@ Lucy: what shoe do you like best, they all fit
@ Ona Batlle: blouse got brown buttons so maybe the brown Loafers
@ Lucy: great, they were the comfiest
@ Ona Batlle: pic of the complete fit?
@ Lucy: tomorrow, I don’t want to put everything on again
@ Ona Batlle: lazy
@ Lucy: demanding
@ Ona Batlle: you know me so well
@ Lucy: you send a pic of your outfit then
@ Ona Batlle: no.
@ Lucy: then you’ll just see tomorrow
@ Ona Batlle: fine
Lucy was disappointed Ona didn’t ask her to send a full outfit picture more, she would’ve done it with a bit more insistence, but she guessed Ona wasn’t someone who lowered herself to such things, she was sure Ona would never beg for anything.
...
Saturday afternoon – London, network event.
The event went great, Lucy had been the perfect acquaintance. Making jokes in quiet, boring moments, but shutting up when Ona was talking to people she needed to talk to.
Lucy had on her part also enjoyed the event, there had been going around servers with appetizers and drinks, although they tasted amazing, Lucy tried to stay modest and allowed herself to accept something once in every three time she got offered something.
It was also fun to be around Ona, the woman was classy, she looked beautiful in the emerald colored dress she wore. She wore white heels and had a white bag with her, Lucy didn’t know if she had seen anyone walk as comfortable and elegant in heels as Ona did.
The event had gone by quite quickly, it was already passed eight o'clock.
‘’Oh fuck’’ Ona whispered, pulling Lucy from her thoughts.
They were standing together after Ona had just finished another conversation with an old guy, Lucy had introduced herself too and Ona had told the man they were working on a project together, it was not true but Lucy didn’t mind, and the guy didn’t ask any questions about it anyways.
‘’What?’’ Lucy asked, turning towards Ona.
‘’Don’t look’’ Ona said discretely, ‘’my ex is there, I didn’t know she’d be here’’.
Lucy suppressed her curiosity and kept looking at Ona, ‘’didn’t end well?’’.
‘’No she cheated’’ Ona grimaced, ‘’she’s the worst, she plays unfair both in business and in her private life’’.
‘’That sucks, how long ago-
-oh my god’’ Ona interrupted her, ‘’she’s coming over’’.
As Lucy stood straight again to prepare for an uncomfortable encounter, Ona leaned in and whispered something to her ‘’It was a year ago, if you like you could act like my girlfriend, that would be funny’’.
Lucy grinned and looked at Ona’s face ‘’ofcourse babe’’.
Ona chuckled at the way Lucy took on the role immediately, ‘’if she questions us we answer one after the other’’ she quickly whispered when the women almost had reached them.
‘’Ona!’’ the woman said as she looked at the pair, ‘’nice to see you again’’.
‘’Evelyn’’ Ona said coldly, ‘’how are you’’ she said as the woman forced a greeting with two kisses on her.
‘’I’m good’’ Evelyn said as she directed her gaze to Lucy and eyed the woman, ‘’you to it seems’’.
Lucy extended her hand to the woman who was also wearing a suit, Lucy giggled a little inside at the fact that it was a dark colored suit, since Ona had asked her to wear a light colored suit, ''Lucy, Lucy Bronze'' she introduced herself.
‘’Evelyn Thomas, Thomas real estate’’ the woman said, ‘’what do you do’’.
Lucy smiled, ‘’I am a sports physio, I help injured athletes with their recovery, I am currently also doing research into knee injuries''.
‘’Charity work?’’ Evelyn rudely asked.
Lucy replied with a smile, ‘’well the research doesn’t really bring in money, but that’s a passion of mine, no, I earn my money with my gym, but I get if you’ve never heard of it, it is an quite expensive membership’’.
Evelyn huffed, ‘’sure’’ she turned to Ona.
Lucy stepped closer to Ona rubbed the small of her back before she let her hand rest there.
‘’How long have you two been together?’’.
Ona smiled ‘’about half a year, right Luce?’’. She asked sweetly as she turned to Lucy, who already had her eyes on her.
‘’Best half year of my life’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’It feels like last week that we met’’.
‘’Right babe?’’ Ona sighed out and reached to pet Lucy’s face and kept looking at her, hoping Evelyn would just take the hint and leave.
‘’Allright’’ the woman said, but the pair didn’t look up.
‘’Well, great saying you again Ona’’, she tried.
Ona let her hand glide from Lucy’s face and turned back to Evelyn ‘’oh yeah, I’ll see you around’’.
Lucy smiled, ‘’nice meeting you Evelyn’’ she said in an overly sweet voice.
Lucy took two glasses of champagne from a server that passed them, ‘’here you go darling’’ she joked as she handed Ona one.
‘’Thank you’’ Ona sight as she looked around, ‘’wow, this bitch is still looking at us’’ she whispered in Lucy’s ear.
‘’Behind us?’’ Lucy asked quietly, getting a bit more into Ona’s personal space.
‘’Yeah, don’t look’’.
‘’No I was curious if I could get your consent’’.
‘’For what’’ Ona chuckled.
‘’Touch your butt, I bet she would eat herself up, she is so hung up on you still’’.
Ona grinned and leaned in to kiss Lucy’s neck softly, ‘’do it’’.
The Catalan peeked from Lucy’s neck at the woman a few meters behind them, she saw the woman had her gaze already fixed on Lucy’s hand, the hand that had rested on her lower back until now, smoothly Lucy let her hand travel south and squeezed Ona’s bum. Ona looked back at Lucy’s neck, she didn’t feel the need to watch Evelyn’s face a second longer then necessary.
Ona chuckled as she felt a shiver run down her spine from the way Lucy’s strong hand dug into her clothed flesh.
Lucy rubbed the place she had just squeezed gently and let her hand rest on the small of Ona’s back again, just a bit lower then she had been before.
‘’Thank you’’ Ona quietly said.
Lucy looked at her with a wicked grin, ‘’it was a pleasure’’.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’not that, for playing along’’.
‘’I was talking about that’’, Lucy said with raised eyebrows, trying to come across honest, ‘’okay squeezing your butt was fun too I guess’’ she sighed.
Ona’s mouth hang open to act as if she felt offended, ‘’liar’’.
‘’No I feel a bit like a cheap whore’’.
Ona chuckled, ‘’a cheap whore?’’.
‘’You buy me clothes in exchange for physical services’’.
‘’You make it sound like I’ll make you sleep with me’’.
‘’are you not?’’ Lucy said acting disappointed.
‘’Lucy!’’ Ona said in disbelieve, ‘’are you proposing to come home with me’’.
‘’I mean, the house of the best realtor is probably very impressive, maybe you can give me a tour’’.
‘’I thought you joined me to distract me from work, not give me more’’.
Lucy shrugged, ‘’okay, worth a try’’.
Ona grumbled on the inside, she wanted Lucy to come with her, but she wasn’t about to beg, ‘’fine’’ she stated, ‘’let’s go then, this event is dead anyways’’.
..
They were stood in the elevator of Ona’s building, ‘’how are you so bold all of a sudden?’’ Ona asked.
Lucy smirked, ‘’bold, how?’’.
‘’You straight up asked me to sleep with you’’ Ona said as she studied Lucy.
Lucy held her hands up, ‘’I’m confident in my abilities to break personal records with you in several areas, the bedroom being one of them’’.
Ona’s jaw dropped, ‘’does that work on all the girls you hit on’’.
‘’No just the one that are attracted to me’’ she answered with a smug smile.
‘’I’m not- i- how do you-
Lucy grinned, ‘’the dressing rooms are not call-proof, or at least, if it’s a private call, you should probably choose another place from now on’’.
Ona blushed and groaned, ‘’you heard that?’’ she said with a scrunched up nose and palmed her face.
The elevator stopped and with an elegant tone it indicated the arrival to the top floor.
Lucy smiled as the smaller woman walked away with cutely blushed cheeks and opened the door, Lucy followed Ona who stepped in to her appartement.
When she took of her shoes Lucy did the same.
‘’wow’’ Lucy gasped as she walked over to the windows, ‘’this is amazing’’.
‘’Thanks’’ Ona said, ‘’do you want something to drink?’’.
Lucy turned around with a smile, ‘’maybe after the tour? I had some drinks there already’’.
‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she got herself a sparkling water ‘’Okay this is the kitchen, that is the living-
‘’nooo’’ Lucy pouted and walked back to Ona, ‘’the fun way, make me want to buy this place’’ she said as she discarded her jacket on one of the bar stools.
‘’You already would’’.
Lucy rolled her eyes ‘’Like how you-
‘’don’t roll your eyes at me’’ Ona blurted out before she knew it was happening.
Lucy’s mouth fell open, ‘’says you! You roll your eyes every once 10 minutes’’.
Ona walked around the counter and stepped into Lucy’s personal space, ‘’shut up, I can do what I want’’ she said with a grin.
Lucy looked her, quiet from the sudden closeness, ‘’you shut up’’ she said, coming out clumsier than she wanted.
Ona chuckled, ‘’make me shut up then’’ she said as she traced her hand along the row of buttons from Lucy’s blouse.
‘’If you don’t stop me I’ll kiss you’’ Lucy said as she leaned in.
Ona smiled against her lips, ‘’if you don’t kiss me I’ll book you a cab home’’.
Their lips crashed in a hungry, exciting kiss, Lucy was the first to introduce tongue in their facade and Ona cupped the back of her neck as she gladly accepted it in.
Lucy’s hands travelled to the hips she had been eyeing all afternoon, the smaller woman looking delicious at the way the dress hugged her figure just right.
The English pressed herself closer against the Catalan.
Ona broke the kiss.
They both panted as Lucy tilted her head in confusion, ‘’not okay?’’.
‘’How about a quick tour of the bedroom?’’ Ona answered instead.
Lucy gulped, ‘’please’’.
Ona grinned as she took Lucy’s hand and guided her to her bedroom, ‘’wow’’ she gasped for a second time this evening.
‘’Is this enough light for you?’’ Ona asked, ‘’if you want more light we have to close the curtains’’.
Lucy quickly turned to face the woman, ‘’yes, lights on and curtains closed please, I’m not about to be on display for everyone in London to see’’.
‘’that’s why you keep the light off’’ Ona chuckled, ‘’and it can be fun you know, exciting’’.
Lucy shook her head, ‘’nah, as much as I like the view, I bet the view in here will be way better’’.
‘’Oh quite the charmer’’ Ona said as she pushed the button and the curtains started closing, ‘’ let's see if you can live up to all that big talk’’.
Lucy walked over to her and went in for another kiss, much shorter this time, ‘’just give me the green light and I’ll make you experience things you have never before’’.
‘’sure Bronze’’, Ona said as she started to undo to buttons from her blouse, ‘’you have permission do what you want, just stop if I say so’’.
Lucy grinned, ‘’always princess, your wish is my command’’ with that she attached their lips again.
While they were kissing Lucy shook her blouse off, figuring Ona wanted that as she had been tugging on the ting for minutes now. She walked with Ona towards the bed, making her walk backwards. When they were almost there Ona broke the kiss ‘’take my dress off’’ she said breathlessly.
Lucy grinned, ‘’not yet, you look so pretty in it’’ she said before planting her tongue back in Ona’s mouth, a few small sounds escaped the smaller woman as Lucy deepened the kiss and reached to pull up Ona’s dress.
She pushed Ona on the edge of the bed and started kissing her neck, ‘’do you want this’’ she asked between kisses ‘’want me to make you feel so good’’ she asked before licking and sucking the sensitive spots on Ona’s neck.
Ona whimpered, ‘’yes’’.
‘’Allright pretty girl’’ Lucy said she dropped to her knees, she looked up to meet Ona’s eyes as she started to kiss the insides of her thighs, ‘’I bet you taste so good’’ Lucy said as her hands travelled along the skin of Ona’s legs, giving her goose bumps.
‘’Can I taste you?’’ Lucy said as she latched her mouth to Ona’s other leg, she saw the Catalan fighting to keep composure, ‘’y-yes’’ she said with a breathy voice.
‘’Are you so worked up already?’’ Lucy playfully asked as she redirected her gaze to Ona’s thong, a dark-green piece of lace, with an even darker green spot right between the Spaniards legs.
Lucy kissed closer and closer towards the woman’s heat, until she could smell her wetness. Lucy groaned and sat back, ‘’up’’ she ordered as she hooked her fingers in the underwear.
Ona quickly cooperated.
Lucy dropped the thongs on the floor and went back to kissing Ona’s bare legs.
‘’Fuck Lucy, get your mouth on me’’ Ona said jaded.
With a smug face Lucy looked at her, ‘’you still think you’re calling the shots here?’’ she said as she let two fingers glide along Ona’s slick.
‘’Please’’ Ona whimpered.
This was all Lucy needed to hear, the rest of the begging could be done later, now she needed to get a taste.
She spread Ona’s leg wide with her hands as she dove in, letting her tongue glide softly along Ona’s core to make her get used to it.
She reached out for Ona’s hand and placed it in her hair as she kept up the gentle exploration.
When she had found a spot that she felt made Ona quiver, she grinned and kept Ona’s legs apart more strongly before diving in completely.
Ona’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, she head never experienced head like this before.
The skilled tongue rippling against her clit, the strong hands, making her spread out for the English woman on the edge of her bed.
With the hand that was guided to Lucy’s hair she gripped the woman’s dark brown hair, pushing her deeper against her, Ona felt the orgasm building up already. If it didn’t feel this good she would surely have been embarrassed about it.
‘’merda, se sent molt bé’’ (feels so fucking good) Ona moaned before she bit her lips as she struggled to keep herself up, leaning with one hand on the mattress.
Lucy didn’t know what the woman above her was muttering about, but she figured the words were positive. With two fingers of her right hand she teased Ona’s entrance, at this her legs shocked. Lucy looked up.
Ona groaned at the loss of stimulation and looked down at Lucy, ‘’fuck, you can use your fingers’’.
Lucy smirked as she put the fingers inside Ona’s mouth, as Ona sucked at them, covering them in her saliva. Lucy returned to what she was doing, she let her tongue dance along Ona’s clit.
When Ona opened her mouth and moaned, Lucy pulled her hand away and with very little preparation she plunged them inside of the dripping hole between Ona’s legs, deserving a loud guttural moan.
Lucy curled her fingers and searched for Ona’s weak spot, when she’d found it she started thrusting her fingers in a steady but provokingly slow pace.
The difference in paces from Lucy’s tongue and her fingers drove Ona mad, she couldn’t keep her eyes open as her eyes kept rolling back and the arm where she was leaning on was shaking.
After a few second she dropped on her, the leg that Lucy wasn’t keeping open with a hand almost crashed into Lucy but she didn’t budge.
Lucy sat up a bit more and kept working her tongue and hand as she felt Ona’s walls convulsing around her fingers.
She groaned as she felt a new gush of wetness covering her fingers, and dripping on her hand.
With a loud moan and a tight fist in Lucy’s hair, the woman below her orgasmed.
Lucy smiled as she slowly came to a stop and sat back when the hand left her head.
Ona's legs came back together and she stretched with her arms above her, "that was…" she breathed out.
Lucy grinned, ‘’quick?’’ she offered.
Ona sat up and rolled her eyes, ‘’I was going to say good’’.
‘’Both can be true’’ Lucy with a smug face.
..
After a few hours well spent, Lucy and Ona were standing under her rain shower.
‘’Do you want to sleep here?’’ Ona asked as she was lathering herself up with soap.
Lucy grinned ‘’are you asking out of politeness?’’.
‘’Maybe’’ Ona grinned back, ‘’don’t want you to feel like a cheap whore’’.
Lucy laughed, ‘’no I’ll book my own cab home, thanks’’.
‘’I had fun’’ Ona said sincerely, ‘’thanks for coming along’’.
‘’Me too’’ Lucy returned, ‘’and I’m happy for it to be a one time thing’’.
‘’Mhm’’ Ona said, ‘’perfect’’. She was amazed with Lucy’s maturity about the matter, some woman could get very offended.
‘’What do you want me to do with the shoes and shirts?’’ Lucy asked as they were drying off.
Ona smiled, ‘’keep ‘em, give ‘em away, I don’t care, it costs me more to make effort returning them, then what I would get for it’’.
Lucy shook her head in disbelieve but thought it was very kind she had bought her the things, ‘’thank you’’.
Ona nodded, ‘’it was my pleasure’’.
As Lucy walked back to the bedroom to put her suit back on, Ona just put her robe on, she was home alone anyways, she couldn’t help but look at Lucy’s back and ass, looking perfectly toned.
She bended to pick her clothes up and turned around to lay it on the bed, she looked at the clothes before looking at Ona.
Lucy caught the Catalan staring at her abs and grinned, ‘’could I borrow a pair of briefs?’’ she asked, ‘’I can’t put this back on’’, she said as she held her underwear up.
Ona gaze traveled form Lucy’s muscles to the piece of cloth and she smiled, ‘’ofcourse’’ she said before going into her walk-in wardrobe.
She came back and handed Lucy the underwear, ‘’and you can keep this too’’ she winked.
After that, Ona left Lucy to get dressed and went to the kitchen, she downed the glass of sparkling water that was still on the counter and went to her table, opening the laptop that laid there.
In a few minutes she was completely indulged with the things on her screen and hadn’t noticed Lucy been done with getting dressed, now standing infront of her.
‘’Bye Ona’’ Lucy said as she walked closer to the woman.
Ona jumped at the voice breaking the silence, but quickly got her composure back and smiled, ‘’sorry, I was reading something’’ she stood up, ‘’I’ll see you Tuesday Lucy, thanks again’’.
‘’I had fun’’ Lucy smiled, ‘’I’ll see myself out, see you Tuesday’’.
..
Tuesday night –  Bronze Fitness Forge, London
Ona and Lucy had another session. They both thought back at their one nightstand as a perfect encounter, the sex had been good and they were both on the same terms as far as relationships are concerned.
Lucy didn't think Ona was the type of girl she’d ever date, but she could say that she was absolutely perfect in terms of appearance. The fact that she was shorter, the freckles, her slightly defined muscles and most of all her perfect butt. Ona’s ass might be her favorite thing about the woman.
Ona was happy Lucy had been on the same page as her about at sleeping over, she didn’t like waking up next to people, they often looked and smelt bad and Ona didn’t like anyone in the world enough to deal with that. Ona was happy to go to the woman’s gym again this day, she felt like her sexual frustration had been cleared up and was ready to maybe even break that squatting PR.
Lucy was a little bit nervous about seeing the woman again, hoping it wouldn’t be awkward, she had gotten in a bit earlier than last time, to make sure they could at least get dressed separately. Even though she would be lying if she’d say she wasn’t at least a little bit curious if the hickey’s she had left were still there.
She shook her head, she shouldn’t be thinking about this. Ona had been perfectly clear, heck she had wanted it herself, this was a one time thing and in a month they’d maybe never see eachother again.
Ona came walking in to the gym, disrupting Lucy’s string of thoughts.
‘’Hey Ona’’ she cheerfully said, but she couldn’t help but notice the fact Ona was wearing a shirt and shorts now, rather then the sports bra she had worked out in until now.
‘’Lucy’’ Ona smiled, ‘’ready to break some records?’’.
‘’I sure am’’ Lucy said, ‘’do we go squatting straight after warm up?’’.
‘’Yes’’ Ona replied, ‘’I hope I can do more then 50 today’’.
‘’Enthusiastic, i love it’’
‘’Oh you know me’’ Ona joked.
‘’Always enthusiastic to break records’’ Lucy said, after which she cringed at herself.
They warmed up and went to the weight rack, ‘’hey have you already set it up?’’ Ona asked, smiling.
‘’Ofcourse’’ Lucy said smugly, ‘’six sessions left until you’re doing 55’’.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’if you weren’t hot I would’ve hired another personal trainer six sessions ago’’.
Lucy chuckled, ‘’well first off all thanks, second off all, what do you think a good personal trainer does then’’.
The Spaniard shrugged, ‘’not being annoying’’.
‘’I am not annoying’’ Lucy said as she quirked her eyebrows.
‘’How would you describe a person using insults as motivation’’ Ona challenged her.
‘’motivational’’
‘’annoying’’
‘’did you do those reps or not’’
‘’yes’’
‘’so, motivational’’ Lucy stated as if it was settled.
Ona shook her head and walked over to take place under the bar, ‘’please keep from your motivations until really really can’t go anymore’’ she stood up and took the bar on her shoulders, ‘’until then, you spot me quietly’’.
‘’yes ma’am’’ Lucy joked as she took position behind Ona, ‘’I kidding, I’ll shut up’’.
Surprisingly, Ona squatted the 50kg the first 8 reps perfectly, without any problem.
‘’I’m impressed’’ Lucy said as Ona was shaking her legs to get ready for the last set, ‘’you finally found your right mindset’’.
Ona smiled but kept quiet, she couldn’t get distracted now.
She took place under the bar again and accidentally walked into Lucy with her butt.
‘’Oh sorry’’ Lucy chuckled as she took a step back, ‘’okay last 4, let’s go’’.
Ona blushed at the way heat traveled to her core from the brief touch.
She took the weight on her shoulders for the third time and for some reason they felt twice as heavy.
Ona didn’t squat but kept standing there with the weights in her neck.
‘’Come on Ona, you can do it’’ she felt Lucy’s hot breath in her neck.
‘’I don’t know if I-
‘’You can do it Ona’’ Lucy pressed up against Ona, and put her hand under her arms, ‘’we’ll do it together’’.
Ona gulped as she felt Lucy front pushed against her.
She squatted and easily came back up with Lucy’s strength supporting her, she wanted to rack the weights as she stood straight again.
‘’3 more Ona’’ Lucy said in her ear.
Ona groaned as she did another.
‘’Good job Ona’’ Lucy said, in a voice close to a whisper. Ona couldn’t help but think the woman was doing this on purpose, she was so close, Ona could feel her abs in her back, and her thighs against her own, no other trainer had ever spotted her like this.
After the four squats Ona racked the bar and turned around, Lucy stepped back.
She studied the woman’s face, Lucy casted her eyes to the ground.
Ona ducked under the bar and stepped into Lucy’s personal space, she noticed a slight blush on the English woman her cheeks, but then again that could be from warming up.
Ona shook her head, thinking it was her mind playing tricks with her, ‘’so what next’’ she asked.
Lucy looked up at her with surprise but quickly put on a neutral face again, ‘’have you ever bench pressed?’’.
‘’Ofcourse’’ Ona chuckled.
Lucy insisted on showing Ona the best technique and did a few quick sets with the weights she had grabbed for Ona.
However, when Ona did the sets with those weights it went a lot less smoothly.
After the set Ona set up and set the weights down on the ground.
Lucy took place on the bench next to her, ‘’have you ever heard about the mind-muscle connection?’’.
‘’no’’ Ona said as she shook her head.
‘’Okay, so during an exercise touching the muscle is a great way to help increase the mind-muscle connection. When you physically touch the muscle, it provides tactile feedback that can be used to better understand which muscles are being targeted and how they should feel during an exercise’’. Lucy explained.
‘’Look’’ she said as she did a bicep curl, ‘’I am working my bicep right now, so then I’ll tap or touch the muscle and that will eventually help with increasing strength in that muscle’’.
Ona sighed, ‘’okay, so you are going to be poking my biceps as I bench press’’.
‘’With a bench press we target arms, shoulders and chest’’ Lucy said, ‘’one of the most useful exercise to work on your mind-muscle connection with, as you automatically start to use the muscles that are touched more then when you just do it, it helps with knowing from where you need to provide strength into the push’’.
‘’Okay lets do it professora’’ Ona chuckled.
While she was benching the weights Lucy poked the concerning muscles, but Ona couldn´t really take it serious, she was getting distracted with the way Lucy´s hands were resting on her chest now, just above her boobs.
´´don´t be so distracted Ona, focus´´ Lucy said, as she noticed Ona slowing her pace.
´´Allright´´ she said, and Lucy retracted her hands at her sudden harsh voice, the effect she hoped it would have, she dropped the weights besides her, ´´you sit here´´ she said as she stood up.
Lucy looked at her confused, ´´what?’’.
‘’Go sit here and do bench presses’’.
Lucy was confused but went to do what Ona ordered, as she had took the weights in her hands she started, ‘’just like this’’ she carefully said.
‘’Yes’’ Ona said as she took place on Lucy’s lap, ‘’go on, keep going’’ she said as she let her hands travel along Lucy’s arms, shoulders, chest and ended at her abs, as Lucy stopped and looked confused at her she repeated what the English woman had told her earlier, ´´don´t be so distracted Lucy, focus´´.
Lucy chuckled, ‘’I wasn’t sitting on your lap’’.
‘’I wasn’t grinding into your ass’’ Ona bit back.
Lucy set the weights besides her, ´´I’m sorry.. I couldn´t..
´´couldn´t what Lucy?’’ Ona sat as she leaned closer towards Lucy’s face, ‘’couldn’t help but wanting to feel my ass?’’.
The English woman swallowed hard, she knew it wasn’t professional of her.
Ona bit her lip as she looked at the woman squirming below her.
She leant to whisper something in Lucy’s ear, ‘’I am going to take a shower’’ she said before softly laying a single kiss in Lucy neck and getting up.
Without turning around she walked towards the changing room, hoping Lucy would follow her.
Lucy scrambled to sit up and wondered what the fuck just happened, she was very confused, a part of screamed that she should follow the woman, another part said to stay in the gym, as she had done more then enough.
-I am going to take a shower-, the words repeated over and over in her head, if Ona really wouldn’t have wanted her to follow her she would’ve surely said something else right, and not give her a kiss.
Without more contemplation Lucy jumped up, she hurried to the changing room and got in, the shower was already running, Lucy spotted Ona’s clothing on the bench.
‘’Uhm’’ Lucy cleared her throat, ‘’sorry’’.
‘’I can’t here you’’ Ona called from under the water, ‘’what did you say?’’.
Lucy  stepped closer to the shower, the shower was just an extension of the dressing room, separated by a tiled wall and a corner, in there were 4 showerheads, which turned out to be the stupidest setup ever, as only one person showered here at a time, but they hadn’t thought about it like that when she helped designing the place.
‘’Sorry’’ she tried again.
Ona chuckled, ‘’Luce come here’’.
Lucy stepped along the wall and was met with a very wet, very naked Ona.
Ona grinned and walked towards Lucy, ‘’it’s okay’’ she said before pressing the taller woman against the wall, ‘’but now you've triggered something in me’’.
‘’w-what’’.
‘’Strip’’ Ona said coldly.
Lucy did as told and stepped out of her shoes before she threw her clothes in to the dressing room, in the same undressed state as the Spaniard she walked back to her.
‘’Good’’ Ona said as she pulled Lucy by her wrist to join her under the weak beam of warm water.
Lucy closed her arms around Ona and pulled her in for a deep kiss.
Ona groaned and broke the kiss, ‘’I don’t know what it is but I feel a weirdly big amount of attraction towards you’’.
Lucy narrowed her eyes, ‘’thanks I guess, I think you’re very hot too’’.
‘’No’’ Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I mean, I have never not been able to suppress the urge to fuck someone’’.
Lucy smirked, ‘’it’s hard when it’s that good’’.
Ona rolled her eyes again, ‘’shut up, your dumb words turn me off’’ she said before kissing Lucy again.
The English woman grinned against Ona’s lips as her hand roamed Ona’s body until they settled between her legs, ‘’Do you get wet when you’re turned off?’’ she asked with an annoying smirk on her face, ‘’or where you lying’’.
‘’I am not lying’’ Ona said as turned them around, ‘’you’re the hottest when your mouth is closed’’.
Lucy chuckled as Ona dropped to her knees and kissed along her upper thighs. ‘’Or when you are cumming’’ Ona added before tugging one of Lucy’s legs on to her shoulder.
She made sure Lucy’s other leg was planted firmly on the ground before she buried her head in between the woman’s legs. Lucy closed her eyes as the shorter woman hungrily started eating her out. Ona reached around Lucy to grab her ass and guided her to grind down on her face. The muscular woman let out a groan and gripped Ona’s hair. The groans of Lucy and humming of Ona echoed in the tiled room.
 With a hand coming down on the Catalans shoulder, pressing into her, she almost lost balance for a second, but she recovered and gripped tighter into the flesh of Lucy’s ass while she kept fucking with her tongue in and out of her entrance.
The leg that was hanging over her shoulder started jolting as Ona heard the breath of the woman above her get more and more unsteady. Lucy felt she was about to come undone and braced herself on Ona and the shower wall, grabbing the rod where the shower was connected to.
She bit her lips as she looked down at the beautiful woman bobbing her head between her own legs, she grabbed the hair she was holding and pulled at the roots as she pushed the head deeper into her core. Ona moaned at the act, a shiver traveled along Lucy’s spine at the vibration.
‘’Fuck’’ she breathed, ‘’I’m cumming’’.
At that last word her voice went up her voice went up an octave and her eyes rolled back while an electric pulse travelled through her body. Ona kept lapping at Lucy, dirty sounds filling the room, only when Lucy’s hips started jerking from sensitivity, she stopped. Only now she realized how hard she had been holding onto Lucy and she caressed the skin gently before pulling her hands back. She sat back and stood up to look at Lucy.
The English woman wore a dopey grin, with hooded eyes she smiled at Ona, ‘’that was amazing’’ she said as if she was under the influence of drugs.
‘’Good’’ Ona said, ‘’because I need this to be our last time’’.
At those words Lucy seemed to get sobered up immediately, ‘’I’m not done’’ she said.
Ona rolled her eyes but couldn’t ignore the way she felt her core pulsing at Lucy’s hungry gaze. Lucy stepped closer and kissed her. Lucy grinned as she felt the Catalan pushing herself against her, almost searching for some kind of relieve with the way her core searches for one of Lucy’s thighs.
‘’Not here’’ Lucy said as she broke the kiss, ‘’come home with me’’.
PART 2
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ashwhowrites · 1 year
Note
u said ur craving miscommunication fics so i have an idea , eddie x reader , shes such a sweetheart and hes kinda grumpy , he was being bothered by jason and his “goons” one day and she ended up trying to talk to him at the wrong time (max and lucas see from afar) after assuming shes one of them cuz he doesn’t turn around he tells her to go away and never speak to him again or she will regret it. so she accepts it & he’s confused why she stops talking to him and all until max and lucas point out what they saw happen in the hallway
I love this idea
I hope this is what you wanted :)
Never proofread
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The dynamic between Eddie and Y/N didn't make sense to anyone. They were friends, but easy to tell they wanted something more. People didn't understand how a friendship formed between the two. He was dark, grumpy, and hated anything and everything. She was bright, happy, and sweet to everyone in her path.
Eddie disliked her at first. He didn't like the bubbly personality she carried and he didn't like the way he smiled around her. She cracked away his dark exterior and turned him into mush. But she was too adorable to ever be rude to.
He let himself be more open around her and she never wanted to leave. Standing side by side the two clashed horribly, but in a way, they made each other happy.
He wouldn't want to admit it, but he was pretty sure he was falling for her. And that scared him. He knew he was a fuck up, and every minute with her was a ticking bomb of when he'd blow it all up.
~~~
Eddie was having a rough morning. He stayed up all night trying to write a song. The lyrics were keeping his mind awake but he couldn't flow the words together smoothly. Once he made it to school, Jason locked in on him. Bothering Eddie with every step he took.
And Jason continued the rest of the morning. His friends joined in, constantly in Eddie's ear. Pushing and shoving him all around. No matter what Eddie did, they didn't bother to leave him alone.
Once lunch rolled around, Eddie was done with the day. He sat alone at a table, far away from hellfire. Craving to have a moment alone.
But, his wish wasn't granted when he heard a voice come from behind him.
~~~
Y/N could sense that Eddie wasn't himself today. She watched Jason and his friends picking on him, constantly bothering him every hour. She wanted to step in but she respected Eddie's past wishes to stay out of it.
His shoulders were slumped all morning, and she just wanted to make him feel better. She always packed extra sweets in her lunch to give to him. Eddie had the biggest sweet tooth, and she loved fulfilling it. The way his big eyes got excited and he practically drooled when he smelled the treat.
She planned to give it to him at lunch but was confused when he never made it to the table. She searched all around the cafeteria, looking for the frizzy curls. She smiled in victory when she spotted him, grabbing the container of brownies and walking over to the table.
"Hey, Eddie!" She announced herself and went to move from behind him to the side of him. But the coldness in his voice when he responded made her think otherwise.
"Listen, do not talk to me ever again or it'll be the last thing you do." He snapped. Never once turning around to look at her.
She quickly blinked away the tears that were filling up her eyes.
"Yeah, Sorry" she quietly whispered, turning around and moving as fast as she could to her lunch table. Feeling embarrassed, she didn't bother to finish her lunch. Grabbing her bag and heading out the hallway, letting her table pick around at the brownies.
~~~
Max and Lucas watched the whole scene as they were walking past. Max was livid at the way Eddie just blew her off. Y/N was effortlessly the sweetest girl anyone had met, and she for some reason liked Eddie. And he quickly just blew his chance of anything more than a mutual crush.
~~~
If there was anyone Eddie wanted to talk to, it was Y/N. But she was nowhere to be found. He never saw her at lunch and didn't run into her in the hallways. He made it a home with the same frown on his face that he left with.
He was hurt that she disappeared from him. Maybe she had a bad day too and needed the space.
Eddie walked into school the next morning, catching Y/N talking to Max. She looked up and caught his stare. She looked away fast, saying something to Max before she quickly left. Max turned to look, and once she saw Eddie she rolled her eyes and followed after her.
Eddie didn't understand what that interaction meant. Why didn't she wave or anything? She just walked away. And Max...that was a pretty normal Max reaction.
Eddie waited until lunch to see if there was any change. Maybe Y/N had a rough morning and wasn't in the mood to be friendly. Eddie's had those days, he understands it.
He sat back at his normal table, secretly missing everyone when he sat alone yesterday. He watched as Max took a seat at the end of the table, Y/N following next to her. Eddie smiled at her arrival but felt disappointed that she sat on the other side. Why didn't she want to sit next to him?
He kept watching her, trying to see if she'll look in his direction.
Y/N felt embarrassed and upset by Eddie's actions yesterday. She thought they were pretty good friends, and liked each other. She doesn't understand what switched within a day. They were fine just the day before, laughing, flirting, and hanging out. He dropped her off and kissed her on the cheek. And then he gave her the cold shoulder and admitted he never wanted to talk again? None of it made sense. Even if he randomly woke up and decided he wasn't interested in her, it wouldn't happen in less than 24 hours.
But whatever happened, it did happen, and he made it clear where they stood.
~~~
Eddie gave her space for around three days. He watched her closely, trying to understand her sudden hostility towards him.
But Eddie wasn't one to read between the lines. He wouldn't figure anything out without asking questions. But he wasn't going to ask her, that was just stupid.
No, he went to Max.
"What do you want, loser?" She spat, throwing books in her locker with the most aggression Eddie has ever seen.
Why did he think she would be nicer?
"What's the deal with Y/N?" He asked, not to waste time. He knew Max wouldn't care for beating around the bush.
"You mean why is she pissed off at you after you treated her like shit?" Max asked, her tone was filled with mockery and her eyes were hard.
"What? When did I do that? She hasn't talked to me since we last hung out and I did nothing wrong that night!" Eddie defended himself
"Um in the lunch room? She came up to give you brownies and you totally blew her off." Max scuffed, slamming her locker shut as the books barely fit.
"She didn't come up to me! And I never heard of brownies so I know I definitely didn't talk to her." Eddie defended again, becoming even more confused with the situation.
"Yes you did! You didn't bother to turn around. Just "don't talk to me ever again!" Max mocked his voice, crossing her arms with an annoyed look on her face.
Eddie stared at her, his brain trying to work through her words. Then it hit him. Y/N was the voice coming from behind him.
Eddie slammed his face into his hands, groaning in his throat as he pulled his face away. Looking back at Max, "I didn't know it was her! I thought it was Jason's goons again." Eddie explained frantically. He never would have talked to her like that.
"Maybe you should learn not to snap at people, then." Max shrugged, not feeling bad for Eddie at all.
Eddie watched as she walked out of school, at least now he had answers.
~~~
Eddie raced to Y/N's after school, stopping at the store for flowers and a shitty card. He parked his van in her driveway, seeing her bedroom light on.
He searched around her driveway, looking for some type of rock.
"Munson! If you throw a rock at this window you'll break the fucking thing" her voice came from the window.
He quickly dropped the rock and turned around. Looking up to see her leaning over the edge. A teasing smile on her face.
"....that's true." He laughed. Seeing her smile eased his anxiety.
"Can I come up?" He asked, she nodded so he headed to her front door.
Once the door opened, he handed her the flowers and card. She eyed him as she grabbed it.
"This is my shitty way of apologizing. I didn't know that you were trying to talk to me. I thought it was one of Jason's friends and I snapped. It was wrong, and you didn't deserve that at all. I want to say I'm sorry. " Eddie apologized, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets as he watched for her reaction.
Her cheeks lifted slightly as she smiled. She opened the card and laughed immediately.
"Whoopsy about my doozie"
"really?" She laughed
"Oh come on! It's like whoopsy daisy! That's funny" Eddie defended, laughing with her as she held her stomach.
"Well I suppose since you did apologize, and picked out the best card in the whole section, I can forgive you." She smiled
"Thank you. I'd never want to make you upset like that. You mean way too much to me." He admitted
"You mean a lot to me too, Eddie. And I appreciate you explaining what happened."
"Of course, I can't have my girl thinking I never want to hear her pretty voice again." Eddie winked
Y/N felt her cheeks burn and hands get sweaty
"your girl?" She coughed out
"Glad you agree, now let's go on a date." He smirked.
"right now?" She panicked, "I'm not dressed for a date!"
"The date is here! Still got a big selection of movies?" He asked, walking past her into the house.
"Yeah! But no chick flicks, Munson."
"Aw man!"
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93
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hariboz · 10 months
Text
PROMISE ME…!
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“when you don’t tell your boyfriend you’re sick and still perform!”
pairing: idol!bf!ricky x gn!idol!reader
genre: fluff, tiny angst (?)
warning: mention of headaches, blurry vision, nausea and similar symptoms, softie bf!ricky, that’s it i think?
notes: ty to nonnie for requesting this!! i got a little carried away but i got into a pretty good flow writing it so i hope you enjoy 🥹🫶🏻 also!! this is my first time writing idol!reader so i hope it feels somewhat realistic…? as realistic as it can be i guess 😵‍💫
word count: 1.8k (😵‍💫 how and why…)
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five, six, seven, eight.
five, six, seven, eight.
five, six, seven—
“y/n, are you okay?” the voice of your leader rips you out of your trance, your tired eyes meeting in the mirror. you nod and put on a bright, although fake smile in hopes of being reassuring, though you’re not sure you were being all too convincing — either way, none of your members pry, because they understand. they understand the need to push through, especially now with all these end of the year award shows happening; you simply can’t afford to be sick, to fall behind and to be absent from such huge events. so, you decide to push through the dizziness, nausea and pain. you’ll take some medication later, it’ll be fine. (at least that’s what you’re telling yourself when you catch yourself stumbling from the dizziness when you get ready to practice your solo entrance.) even though there is a silent understanding between you and your members, there still is one person you know you won’t be able to convince, no matter how hard you’ll try — your boyfriend and professional overthinker in regards to your well-being, ricky.
it’s quite cute, the juxtaposition of his public image and the way he tends to worry. did you eat? does your throat hurt from vocal practice? did you trip during dance practice again? (a question that’s especially annoying considering you told him about tripping once, roughly six months ago. he refuses to let it go.) he sends you teas and throat sprays to make sure your voice is taken care of, secretly checks the soles of your shoes to make sure they aren’t getting slippery, somehow manages to pack you little snacks you can munch on when you haven’t eaten anything before practice again. he’s very rarely stern, much too soft-spoken and gentle towards you to speak to you in a more serious manner when he’s worried, so he shows his care and love through these things — which makes you feel all the more guilty when you straight up have to lie to him when he asks if practice is going fine, if you’re feeling well, and letting you know how excited he (along with gyuvin, he mentions) is to see you perform in person up close.
you try your hardest to get better before the performance, you really do. well, as much as you can between hours and hours of practice and barely any sleep, at least. all your efforts seem to be in vain, though, because the day of the performance seems to be the worst day yet — if you had a choice, you would bury yourself under every blanket available and not leave your bed for at least a week, that’s how awful you feel when you and your members are picked up from your dorm during the wee hours of the morning.
unfortunately, the little perfectionistic gremlin that lives at the back of your mind refuses to let all these weeks of practice go to waste, so you muster up a brave smile through your shaking pupils and tell your worrying members that you have everything under control — you’ll smash this performance just like all the other ones, even if you have to do it while being a little dizzy. it’s no big deal, you’re a professional after all.
your stylists is making some last minute adjustments to your outfits when a gentle knock sounds through the room, a very familiar blonde head of hair popping in. you rush over to ricky, his arms snaking around you immediately. “hey, handsome,” you mutter as you observe his face, a small grin playing on his lips. “you’re not looking to bad yourself, hm?” his voice is smooth as he brushes some of your hair out of your face, careful to not interfere with your hairstylist’s hard work. you’re thrown off your balance a little when another dizziness spell hits you out of nowhere, the look on ricky’s face immediately morphing into one of concern, “are you okay?”
you muster up a smile and just nod, eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the black dots bouncing around in your vision, “yeah, i’m just a little nervous,” you reach up to adjust his collar to avoid meeting his worried eyes, “i’m fine. just freaking out a little, that’s all.” you can tell ricky doesn’t entirely believe you, but he trusts that you would come to him if there was something wrong — so he reluctantly lets the subject go. he steals a quick kiss to your lips, whispering a “good luck, i love you.” before he turns to leave to make any last preparations for his own performance.
your first wave of regret overcomes you when you stand ready beneath the stage, you and your members getting into position to perform the intro to your performance. your head feels like it’s about to split and your hands are shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now — as queen sunmi once said, the show must go on.
your second wave of regret comes when you’re actually on stage, all the lights, the music, the screams and your in-ear monitor feeling less like the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve and more like your own personal hell. your group having your own amazing entrance with one of the stage elevators excited you at first; unfortunately, right now you’re preoccupied with managing your expressions to make sure you won’t let any irritation or discomfort slip.
your third and final wave of regret comes when you stand in the middle of the stage in this massive venue, tens of thousands of eyes on you as you start to perform your solo part of the song — your head is pounding and you can barely hear your own voice through your in-ears anymore, your steps are shaky and imprecise, your vision is blurry. you manage to push through, somehow, but it’s clear in the way your chest is heaving once the lights go out that you’re not well.
the atmosphere is very much tense in the part of the audience where your fellow idols sit, all of them having to cover their very obvious concern with faux excitement — you pulled it off well enough, but it’s clear to every single one of them that you’re sick and that you probably should not have performed. ricky especially has to keep his expressions in check, because the mix of worry and concern but also frustration and maybe a little anger is raging heavily inside him right now.
the worry and concern are obvious, the last thing he wants to see is you being sick, much less performing in that state. the frustration is bubbling inside him because he knows that you know better, that even the chance of you hurting yourself even worse by performing while sick is enough reason to sit out one performance. the anger is entirely directed at your staff and maybe some of your members, your leader at least — they must’ve seen that you were unwell, no? and they still let you on stage? is that not what managers and leaders are for, to take matters into their own hands and to know what’s best for their members? it all comes to a head when your members join the other idols in the audience while you’re nowhere in sight.
ricky is getting restless, his hands sprawling against his dress pants, occasionally pinching the fabric to keep his mind occupied. gyuvin and matthew both gave him little reassuring pats on his back but neither did much to comfort him, his mind entirely preoccupied with worrying about you and counting down the minutes to when he will finally be able to check up on you backstage.
it’s about an hour later when the award show is finally over, and for once ricky is the first one to rush backstage, a little ahead of all of his members. he swerves past staff and security and doesn’t even bother knocking on your group’s dressing room, ripping the door open to find your shocked but still very exhausted eyes staring up at him in surprise, “ricky?”
he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, squatting down to meet you eye-to-eye, his hands gently cradling your face, “are you okay? for real, this time?” his brows are furrowed and you feel a little bad for thinking that he looks pretty handsome all serious like this. you nod sheepishly, apology ready to spill from your lips when he squishes your cheeks together to silence you, “shhh, you listen to me. never do that again, okay? do you know how scary that was, watching you perform like that? what if something had happened, you know you could’ve—,” he stumbles over his words a little, clearly worked up, “i don’t know, fallen off stage or something. you could’ve fainted! or you could’ve broken something or— i don’t know, just, promise me, don’t do that again.” ricky’s once so stern voice turns soft towards the end again, never really able to keep up his serious tone for long, especially towards you.
“‘m sorry, just didn’t want to let anyone down,” you mumble, leaning into his touch. his cold hands on your face feel incredibly nice, a stark contrast to your feverish face. he sighs and one of his hands comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his hand stroking your head softly, “i know, but still. don’t do stuff like that, okay? talk to someone when you’re not feeling well. your managers, your members, me — there’s so many people you can go to, okay? anyone, as long as you tell someone,” you nod along to him, and maybe it’s the guilt of making him worry so much or the fact that you’re overwhelmed from the amount of affection coming from him while you’re still a little delirious, but you feel like you need to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke.
“even gyuvin?” the gentle expression on his face falls almost immediately, replaced by a very unimpressed stare. you break out into quiet giggles, muttering a “sorry” before pressing a kiss to his cheek. ricky grumbles a little before getting back up, running his hand through your hair gently one last time. “i have to go back now but i’m ordering you some soup to your dorm later. you’re on bedrest for the next few days, you hear me?” he tries to sound stern again and puts on his best serious face, but his façade is broken when you smile up at him so tiredly, the exhaustion clear on your face.
“thank you, i love you,” you call after him when he turns to leave, ricky sending you a flying kiss before leaving the room, “love you too.”
(your fourth wave of regret came when you realised ricky formed an alliance with your members, all of them exchanging “y/n intel” to make sure all of them can keep an eye on you while you’re recovering.)
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dragonmuse · 1 year
Text
How to be a Dirtbag Fic Writer
I got to do some talking about writing today and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so here are my full thoughts on the matter of being a dirtbag fic writer.
Being the disorganized thoughts of someone two and a half decades into the beautiful mess that is writing fanfic (and a few non-fanfic things too).
What is a dirtbag fic writer? 
 I am talking about someone who is not cleaning up anything. We show up filthy, fresh out of rooting around in the garden of our imaginations. We probably smell a little from work. We will hand you our hard grown fruits, but we have not washed them and we carried them in the bottom upturned parts of our t-shirts. The fruit is a little bruised. It’s not cut up or put in a bowl yet. But we got it in the house! It’s here. Someone can eat it.  
Why dirtbag it? Because the fruit gets in the house. If you’re hemming and hawing, if the idea you want to do seems to be big or you want it perfect and shiny. If you’re imagining a ten thousand step process, so you’re not taking the first step? Dirtbag it. 
How do I dirtbag? 
That’s the best part. You just write. Sit down. One word after the other. No outline, no plan, no destination. No thought of editing. Just word vomit. Every word is a good word. It’a word that wasn’t there before. Grammar sucks? Who cares. Can’t think of the perfect word? Fuck it, put in the simplest version of what you mean. 
Write the idea that you love. The one thing you want to say. Has it been done 3000000 times? WHO CARES human history is long, every idea has been done, probably more than twice. YOU have never written it before. It’s your grubby potato that you clawed out of the ground and guess what someone can still make it into delicious french fries. 
Now here’s the critical part. Write as much as you can squeeze out of your brain. One word in front of the other. 
And then I challenge you this: at most, read it over once and then put it into the world. Just as it is. AND THIS IS IMPORTANT: DO IT WITHOUT APOLOGY OR CAVEAT.  I challenge you, beautiful dirtbag to not pre-emptively apologize. Do not make your work lesser. THAT IS YOUR POTATO! It has eyes and roots and dirt clinging to it because that is what happens.  We are dirtbagging it today. Hell really confused people at do #dirtbagwriter on it.  
Dirtbag writes id, base, lizard brain. Dig in the fertile garden of your imagination. What is the story you tell yourself before you fall asleep? What’s your anxiety this week? Your fantasy? What is going well? What do you wish things looked like? Who is the feral imaginary character you’ve been crafting to take your frustrations and joys out on? 
But, VEE, I wish to have an editor and an outline, use a cool software like scrivener instead of retching up onto a google doc and making it look NICE and PRETTY!
COOL! DO THAT THEN! IF YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT! You should have a process! That’s cool and healthy and necessary for sustainable writing. But if you’re not writing because all of that seems too much? THEN DON’T. 
Did you know fic is free? That we do this from love? From sheer desire? For the love of the game? If you have a process, and the words are flowing, amazing, I love that for you, you don’t need this essay.  If you don’t, let us continue. 
What does dirtbag writing look like? 
It’s messy. It’s a little raw and tatty around the edges sometimes. It’s weird.  It’s someone else’s first draft. Maybe it winds up being your first draft, Idek, that’s your business. 
It’s jokes that make YOU laugh. It’s drama that would make YOU cry if you read it. You are your first commenter. You are your first audience (and possibly continuing pleasure! If you don’t go back and reread your own work sometimes, you might be missing out on one of your favorite authors cause you wrote it for you! Wait until you’re not so close to it. Years sometimes. Then hey, maybe some of this is pretty dang good actually.) 
It has mistakes. 
Dirtbags make mistakes, but dirtbags have published pieces. They have things other people can read out there. 
What if I don’t get good feedback? 
Look, the most likely outcome of any new, untried fic writer (and even established writers trying something new-ish)  is that you get no feedback. That’s real. Silence. It’s eerie, it’s terrible, it sucks. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t. But nothing is not negative. It’s a big fic-y ocean out there and we are all wee itty-bitty-sometimes-with-titty fishes.  
You should still do it all over again. And again. And again. You get better at writing by writing. You just do. Nothing else replaces it. If your well is dry? Fill it with new things. Go do something new, read a new kind of book, watch a new film,  (libraries have so much good shit, you don’t even have to spend money for so many things if you have a library card), just go for a walk in a new direction. Stimulate yourself. Got a cup of something hot and eavesdrop on conversations. Refill yourself with newness. 
And hey, speaking of, do you leave comments? Because you get what you give. You can build relationships with people by commenting and that builds community and community means places to get feedback in the end. Comments are gold. They are all we are paid in. Tip your writers with ‘extra kudos’ or ‘this made me laugh’. And hey, when you go back for a re-read so you can tell them your favorite part? Ask yourself how they made that favorite part? What do you like about it?  Tone? Metaphor? The structure? Reading teaches us how to write too! 
BUT, okay. Sometimes. Sometimes there is actual bad feedback and people suck. 
You know the best part about being a dirtbag? Unrepentant block, delete, goodbye. You don’t own anyone with a shitty opinion any of your precious time on this earth. You did it for free, you gave them your dirty, but still delicious fruit and they went ‘ew, this is a dirty strawberry, how could you not make a clean tomato?”  Because you didn’t plant fucking tomatoes, did you? Don’t fight, don’t engage. Block. Delete. Goodbye. 
If someone in person, looked you in the eye when you brought them a plate of food to share at a party and they said “Why didn’t you bring me MY favorite? This isn’t cooked well at all.” You would probably write up a Reddit AiTA question about it just to hear five thousand people say they were an asshole.   Fic is no different 
And hey, when you dirtbag it? You know you did. It’s not your most cleaned up perfect version. So who cares what they think? You might make it more shiny and polished next time! You might NOT. 
Ok, but what if I don’t finish it? 
Fuck it, post it anyway. 
What if it’s bad? 
Fuck it, post it anyway. 
What if it doesn’t make sense? 
That’s ART, baby. Fuck it, post it anyway. 
What if what I want to write doesn’t work with current fandom norms? 
Then someone out there probably needs it!  And what the hell is this? The western canon? FUCK IT POST IT ANYWAY* 
*Basic human decency is not a ‘fandom norm’. Don’t be racist, sexist, ableist, fat shaming, classist or shitty about anyone's identity on main, okay? Dirtbag writers are KIND first and foremost. Someone saying you are stepping into shit about their identity is not the same as unsolicited crappy feedback about pairings. In the immortal words of Kurt Vonnegut: "God damn it, you've got to be kind.”
You’re being very flippant about something that’s scary. 
I know. I know I am. I know it can be scary. But no risk, no reward and hell, you aren’t using your goddamn legal name on the internet are you? (please for the love of fuck do not be using your legal name to write fic) You’ve got on a mask. You’re a superhero. With dirt on your cape. 
That niche thing that you think no one cares about? Guaranteed you will find someone else in the world who wants it. Maybe they won’t find it right away. Maybe they will be too shy to comment or even hit a button. But your dirty potato will stick with them. They will make french fries in their head.
You have an audience. But they can’t find you if you have nothing out there. 
Go forth. Make. 
You have some errors in this essay. 
PROBABLY CAUSE I DIRTBAGGED IT.  But I picked this strawberry for you out of my brain, so I hope you run it under some cold water and find the good bits and have a nice snack. Or throw it away. Or use it to plant more strawberries (I know that’s not how strawberries work, metaphors break when stretched).  
#dirtbagwriter 
Go forth and MAKE
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majorlysapphic · 1 month
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It's brain splurge time once again...! What am I presenting today you may ask?
A glassheart, modern-day celebrity/performer AU!
TW: self-destructive habits.
(This AU is a continuation of my previous big brain splurge post, so I'll be making small references to it at the start, but I'll try my best to write this post in a way so it can be read as a standalone :)) )
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Okay, here we go!
So I imagine that Red would have LOVED performing from the earliest moments of her life. Music, dance, acting, modelling; it flows through her veins and has always been her calling. And who can even be shocked by that fact? She's the only child of two of Auradon's most iconic stars in the 80s: her mother being 'The Queen of Hearts', a pop princess with a golden public imagine, and her father being the heart-throb bassist of a punk band ('Uliana's Crew'), James Hook.
It's only natural that the daughter of these two would follow in their footsteps, especially knowing her mother runs one of the most successful music labels in Auradon: 'Wonderland Records'. However, every time Red mentions she wants to start performing, she's told no (and on occasion actively discouraged from following her parents career path). Because 'she needs to prioritise growing up away from flashing cameras' and because 'the life of a performer can be demanding, it's best she focuses on school'. Frustrated, Red does end up getting a normal childhood (barring the pretty strict rules she's living under as even though she hasn't made a name for herself, yet, paparazzi still like to have a field day following her life because of who her parents are), and she's (im)patiently waiting for the day she turns 18 to finally start her career as a performer.
But we all know what Red is like, and when she thinks of an opportunity to get what she wants, she's going to take it. So, she starts anonymously posting her music on social media at the age of 14 under the username 'rebel riot', and she goes viral. People love what she's got, and Red is soaring, because this is proof enough that she can make it. So for the next 4 years, she carries on growing her platform, posting videos (whilst hiding her face with an iconic heart mask and talking with a slightly morphed accent/pitch) and interacting with her growing fanbase. Throughout this entire time, she has always had to reject invitations to perform, but on her 18th birthday she can finally take control. So when she's emailed an invite for 'Rebel Riot' to perform at a charity event, she takes it.
And that's how her official, big debut goes. She's the last to perform from all the artists at the charity concert (which include her own parents, who on occasion take a step out of retirement to perform for charitable causes), and after giving her performance her all, she takes a deep breath: flipping down the hood of her outfit and letting her hair fall down, talking in her normal voice (trying not to note down the shocked looks of Bridget and Hook as they realise who she is) as she properly introduces herself as Red Hearts, whilst theatrically throwing off her mask.
The crowd goes wild. And Red is signed up to a music label that same night, choosing to carry on performing under her stage name.
Now... Onto Chloe's path to stardom!
Chloe grew up not wanting to be in the spot light (to the relief of her mother, a popular 80s riot grrrl, 'Cinderella'). Instead, she dabbled in multiple interests, and whilst she did have fun in her music lessons, she ended up figuring out how much she loved academics. So, she grew up happy and safely tucked away in a countryside estate (meaning she is quite sheltered, but that's something Ella and Charming were willing to deal with so long as she got a normal childhood). Chloe eventually figured out she wanted to become a historian, and started her journey towards that goal - but things didn't quite go to plan. Because the world of academics can be tiring and toxic at times, so once graduating with her diploma at 21, she takes a year out before thinking of applying to masters programs. To deal with her burnout she starts making music.
And she loves it. There's a spark there that wasn't present in childhood, and soon enough Chloe's writing songs and strumming on her guitar. But it's only a small passion so far, so she enters her masters program still set on becoming an academic, but to keep her spirits high she starts posting song covers and some original works on social media.
The next thing she knows she's got a loyal following and finding that maybe, music is something she wants to take more seriously. So she starts playing at a few small indie festivals, and she loves it. So in spite of her parents worried protests, Chloe drops out of her masters program and signs up to a music label, and she finds a gradually growing success over the next few years.
Now, a key plot point: Chloe and Red are signed up to the same music label ('Atlantis City Music Group' - ACMG for short).
There's excitement surrounding the artists ACMG keep signing on, and whilst there's success with touring each of the artists separately, the label decides they want to do something big to appreciate all their stars. So, they announce a world tour with all their singers/bands participating: going from place to place over 3 months of summer in order to host music festivals.
This is how Chloe and Red will meet... And the meeting doesn't go well.
They've been assigned to share a stage for most of the up and coming festivals, and as ACMG is funding it all, they're in the same accomodation/transport/rehearsal spaces/dining areas/etc.
They're still in the starting leg of the tour, and so as stages and stands are being set up in the opening festival of the tour, Chloe and Red are at their shared stage. Chloe's heading on stage for her rehearsal time, and Red is going off. And it's an understatement to say Red is in a bad mood that day; she's dealing with a few overeager fans/borderline stalkers (which she refuses to tell anyone about because she doesn't want people fussing over her, especially her mother) and her trusted friend and backup musician (Maddox) has his flight delayed, meaning she'll start her first performance of the tour solo.
So when Chloe tries to greet her, she's brushed off passive-aggressively. And, ouch. That stings, because Chloe is a fan of Red's work - and has been following Rebel Riot since her early stages of being an anonymous singer online. But whilst it stings, they're both 23 years old and shouldn't be immature enough to hold petty grudges. Chloe can handle this (she's going to be thinking about that one interaction at 2am for at least a month), and decides to just keep pushing forward. First impressions can be deceiving after all.
But as time passes, travelling occurs, and performances go on. And Chloe gets a second impression of Red. And a third. And a fourth. And a fifth.
She doesn't need to wait to give a sixth chance to know she absolutely despises Red. Because Red is loud, impulsive, ignorant of others time, sarcastic, quick to frustrate, and a flirt.
And Chloe knows for a fact that Red doesn't like her one bit either.
In Red's point of view, Chloe is up tight, has an annoying need to placate others, sugar coats things way too much, and is a plain bore.
Because here Red is, forcing herself to stick to the trademark personality of Rebel Riot for the entire summer, whilst Chloe is getting huffy about when Red decides to extend her performance/rehearsal times by just a little bit so she can be perfect for her fans. She's here to sell a performance (something that will leave viewers reeling. Red's been one of the best in the game for years and she'd soon rather drive into a ditch than have the quality of her work decline) and live life to the wildest, and Red will be damned if she'll let some random girls judgement get in her way.
So, they carry on travelling and performing at festivals. They give off snippy remarks to each other, and try to one up each other in performance quality. Red will roll her eyes when Chloe comments about being tired at the end of the day (they all are, it's what they signed up for.), and Chloe will scoff whenever she hears about another person Red's left lovesick and 'heart broken'.
People stay clear of the bickering between the two. Because they have better things to do with their life. And also because there's a growing tension that everyone can feel building up (though Red and Chloe remain ignorant to it) and they don't want to be caught in the cross-fire.
...Then eventually, the worst happens: Red and Chloe are alone together.
It's a small, private jet with just the two of them as they travel to the European leg of the summer tour. There's stony silence. There's poorly hidden glances. There's teasing once said glances are called out. Then there's arguing.
They're in each others face, and it's like electricity is running through their veins with each spiteful word tumbling out. Red can feel Chloe's breath tickle her cheek with how close they are. Chloe's eyes are darting down to Red's lips (a habit she picked up weeks ago). And next thing you know both are silently praying that the flight deck is sound-proofed as they meet in the middle for a bruising kiss.
Once the flight lands, they're both just about presentable for cameras, murmuring excuses to go their separate ways as soon as possible.
They were a one time thing, a moment of weakness. They'll be able to go the next 2 months being perfectly professional. They don't care about what the other does. They don't think about each other at all.
All of the above doesn't hold true. Not in the slightest.
Soon enough, Chloe and Red find out the best way to maintain peace in their workplace and stop being a headache is to just carry on leaving each other breathless - It's a burning summer fling. Something superficial. Where Chloe has to painstakingly shrug on a denim jacket in the July heat to cover the scratch marks Red left behind on her back. Where Red has to aggressively rub away Chloe's tinted gloss off of her stomach before running onto stage. Where they both pull each other into hidden corners/rooms after getting jealous way too easily.
It's casual fun with a time limit.
But it feels a lot less casual the more things go on. Because when it's just the two of them, Red finally drops her trademark Rebel Riot personality and lets Chloe in to know her properly. And they start getting on (really really well). Red learns of Chloe's love for history and will listen to her rants for hours and hours. Chloe learns of Red's adoration for art, praising her sketchbooks contents.
And of course, when they learn the big things about each other, they're bound to start learning about the little things. Red's mind is a wealth of information about Chloe's little quirks and likes (and vice versa). Without knowing it, they're with each other more often than not on this tour (I'm thinking: late night drives on countryside roads singing along to the radio with the windows rolled down, stealing each others wardrobes, baking together, sneaking around in festivals when they're not on stage, having a constant back and forth dynamic on social media posts).
But the turning point for both of them, the moment when they realised that they were in danger, is when they start writing songs about each other. And, fucking hell. They write a lot of songs. There's piles of papers with lyrics about the other girl, which they keep private. Because in no way would they would ever want to share this.
So they carry on ignoring what is obviously going on. But cracks start showing in their friendship.
The jealousy gets worse (especially on Red's side, knowing Chloe tends to be oblivious of how charming she actually is). The need to be around each other is ever growing, deeming their clandestine meetings as insufficient to satiate their urge to be in each others presence (meaning they start hanging out publicly).
And then, there's a final thing that starts causing problems: Red's destructive habits. Because after all this time as Rebel Riot, Red is doing her damn best to keep up with the massive reputation she's created whilst she carries on improving her performance/impressing anyone. And this quest of hers is destroying her as she's taking it at a pace that is way too fast/idealistic to be healthy, but she can't help herself. She needs to be the best. She needs to prove to everyone that she's not weak. She needs to put on a front to show her parents that they were wrong for worrying about her starting her stardom young.
And at first it's 'small' things that Red is having issues with - she starts with skipping meals and sleep in order to practice/improve. But then that spirals and spirals.
Chloe doesn't realise Red's destructive habits until she's driving to a rehearsal studio, only to find out that Red had passed out when practicing a new dance formation earlier in the day. So obviously Chloe does the only logical thing: driving like a madwoman back to their hotel after she learns Red's been sent back to rest for the day. Chloe enters Red hotel room with her spare key (which somehow Red had acquired and decided to give to her) to find a startled Red.
Chloe goes on a miniature rant about how she'd like to know if something happened and how Red should really take care of herself. Because if she needs to start bringing Red breakfast everyday she goddamn will, and-
Chloe pauses at the sight of Red: sat on the hotel bed, straight out of a shower with a bathrobe on, a perplexed expression as if she wasn't expecting Chloe to be concerned for her well-being. But the thing that's stolen Chloe's attention? The mottled bruises all over Red's entire body. Bruises that Red had been hiding with mountains of expensive concealer.
After evading Red's typical responses to change the topic, it's revealed how badly Red's been pushing herself to perfect her performances. That her collapsing today was something mild in Red's mind.
With enough gentle questioning, Chloe gets enough of an idea of Red's state of mind and is the one to suggest that Red should pull out of the rest of the tour to take some time to heal/get help.
Red reacts very badly to this. Like very badly.
'Because she's perfectly fine and doesn't need fixing. Chloe just worries too much - and why should she care so much anyway? They're not that type of close to each other, its unnecessary and suffocating. Red's fine with committing to the the demands of being Rebel Riot as that's what makes her interesting enough for people to remain fans.'
Chloe is obviously furious Red is trying to push her away. And she's even more annoyed that Red can't see that she doesn't need to stick to the Rebel Riot persona, because Red Hearts is just as, if not more, likeable. There's no logical reason to why Red can't give up something that's causing her harm (and Chloe feels like she's being punched in the gut seeing the other girl like this).
They argue. And it's not like their previous conflicts. It's vicious and they're both saying things that they don't actually mean in the heat of the moment. And the next thing they know, what they have is over.
An hour after she entered, Chloe storms out of Red's hotel room. Both of the girls experiencing heartache. It's messy, and they're both back to how they were when they first met each other.
In fact, they're worse than they were before. Because, you guessed it! When there's anguish, more songs are being written. And this time, there's no lyrics about falling in love, instead there's quotes of what each other has said to the other, there's double meanings in the lyrics, there's rage.
And neither seem to quit it, because soon enough they decide to start playing some of these unreleased songs at the end of their set. And then there's glares being shot at each other from across the stage. There's arguing. And oh god, history repeats itself, because they're once again back together (in secret, of course). They can't seem to stay away from each other.
This time though, they are swearing to themselves that they're going to stay out of each others business. They'll only think about each other when they're with each other.
(They're the worst liars ever, because those self-imposed rules don't last more than 24 hours).
But still, Chloe and Red are in an odd place. More than friends, and less than partners. Red will have a reminder on her phone to remind Chloe to take her iron pills and she'll buy all of Chloe's expensive hair care to keep round hers. And Chloe will make sure to drag Red out to lunch everyday and will always be around to hold her at night (as Red seems to fall asleep a lot easier and earlier when she's in Chloe's arms).
But they don't talk about the elephant in the room. But it's getting harder for Chloe to ignore as she sees the tell-tale signs of Red withering away as the festival tour goes on.
And out of all the people Red keeps contact with, it's Maddox who has to point out the two of them are practically dating and to sort it out before everyone on set has to deal with another awkward week of them blowing up.
So... They talk. They have to.
And they don't get together.
Because Chloe highlights the fact that she won't be a bystander AND a girlfriend if Red keeps destroying herself. And Red doesn't want to say goodbye to her Rebel Riot persona. She doesn't want to admit it's time to let go and/or make a change.
They make it to the final week of the summer festival tour with ACMG, and they're pretty much acting like kicked puppies around each other. The cherry on top? Both their mothers are here to support them for their final show of the summer, and they can tell something has happened.
And have you ever told your mother about your summer fling/sort-of-nearly girlfriend/one that may have gotten away/the bane of your existence and the reason you get up in the morning? No? Well neither have Red and Chloe before, and they both feel like digging a small grave when they both end up doing so.
Both get information on why their mothers were so against them becoming celebrities when they first started off. And for Red, this incudes Bridget tearfully telling her daughter that she is so much more than what she can give to people. That she should live for herself and for the people she loves that love her back. And whilst she can't dictate what Red does, she really hopes that she won't make the same mistake she did decades ago.
A lot is going on in Red's mind when she goes up to be the closing act for the final show.
She goes through with her set, hears the cheers of her fans. And once playing her final song, she starts making her way off stage only to meet Chloe's eyes. Chloe who had been watching from the VIP section by the stage, in hopes to find some kind of closure or at least say goodbye. And Red knows what she needs to do.
She goes back, calling attention for one last song. The song she covers? One of Chloe's unreleased songs she had shared a few festivals ago. A song that was about the good in life and the joy she's found with Red.
Red's heard it only a handful of times, but she committed it to memory. And after performing the song, she's looking at only Chloe when she makes a large announcement.
She'll be abandoning her act as Rebel Riot for good. That she'll be taking a hiatus to have some time for herself and others that she loves before releasing new music under her own name, not a stage name.
There's mixed reactions in the crowd. But for the first time, Red doesn't care if she's disappointed her fans. Because Chloe is quickly making her way onto the stage, and she practically runs to Red. And before Red can whisper any apologies for the past, Chloe is bringing her into a kiss for all the world to see.
In that moment, they're only caring about each other. In that moment, they know they'll be okay and they're going to be able to work through this together.
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xyurishux · 7 days
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CHAPTER 1 - AS A WHOLE, TOGETHER
Word Count: ~1.7k
Tags: GN!reader, Mentions of family disputes
Summary: You begin to tell Sebastian how deep UrbanShades rabbit hole truly goes, starting with yourself.
Pardon any writing errors, they may happen!
“ oh sweetie, you’re not ugly, society is,”
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“So,
When I was younger, life was as normal as can be. I was in mediocre family, it was me, my mom and my dad. I’d only see my mom in the morning, and when I was back from school my dad would be home for dinner. It wasn’t until way later I learned about his job, but that isn’t relevant right now. My dad was a mystery to me, he’s my dad but I didn’t know much to anything about him. I saw him everyday when I got home but it’s was for such a small period of time, did it even count?
Life was so mundane and repetitive. Go to school, pass tests, summer break then restart it all over again. Life was boring but it wasn’t difficult.
I would do anything to be back there…” You paused looking out into the ocean, it was dark you could mistake it for the above, only simply at night. You breathe out from your nose continuing on with your story.
 “Anyways, it was back in September of 2009 when my father got a promotion. Seeing his face 4 to 5 hours per day dwindled down to seeing him once every two weeks or so, usually on Sundays. He became an enigma.
“You see, something I couldn’t see at the time was that as I grew older, his need to be in my life lowered, and sadly, that same fate fell too with my mother by default.
His job already took a toll on their relationship. Only spending 4 to 5 hours with your partner every day over the span of five years isn’t so great.
My mother would see him as much as I did and now, he just wasn’t there. The signs of a falling relationship presented themselves beforehand, but now it was obvious to anyone that the only thing keeping them together was me. At least, for my mom that was the case.
“The house was more silent than it ever was empty…”
You looked to the side with your eyes to see Sebastians full attention on you, perhaps it was the story? Or maybe he didn’t have anything better to do or it might have been the way your voice spoke with full sincerity and no sarcasm. It was like someone else took control but it was undoubtedly you and he was fully enthralled.
Your eyes met and you looked back down at the cold tile as you carried on.
“Ether way, it was in November of that same year where things would shift. My mom would realize the steady money flowing in and at growing amounts. Now you have to understand that my mother isn’t of the suspicious type nor is she a person who comes up with wild conclusions. She was (and still is, I hope) a reasonable and sensible woman. She knew that this wasn’t a simple ‘promotion’, but to know where all this money came from, well…she didn’t have the slightest clue. She didn’t know and she would never know. Well, truly know…
“The first snow started to fall as December began and Winter break freed me from my studying. Shockingly, dad came home for the holidays and New Years. Funny anecdote, I remember getting my first iPhone as a gift from him that year. It was an iPhone 3GS, God the memories…my mother was not pleased in slightest.” You laughed silent tilting your head to the side as your reminisced, it was good and loyal phone…
 “Continuing on, after Christmas as a family and with the family the next day, my parents had the only disagreement I’ve ever witnessed (only a disagreement, it wasn’t enough to count as a fight).
I think it was about 2 am and the only light that was on was the one above the kitchen table. My dad was sitting facing my mother who standing up, the last of the family who came over for the party had finally left. Chip bowls and wine glasses were still scattered on the coffee table, only barely visible by the outside Christmas lights. I watched as my mom tapped her nails against the wooden chair she was partly leaning on as she took a deep breath. I could tell she was tired, exhausted even but I could also tell she had something bugging her and she needed to let it out. I watched them from the darkness that the staircase provided, I was undetectable. I listened to them talk, leaning my upper body to the wooden railing trying not to miss a single word. I don’t remember much; it was about the money at first but it was nothing compared to what my mother said next.”
“Samantha, look- “
“I’m breaking up with you”
“My mother broke up with my father. I sat upon the steps dumbfounded, I didn’t expect that from their conversation but even then, I didn’t know what to expect. The last of the conversation consisted of my father staying silent and staring at the table as my mom talked important matters to him. She told him that she would stay for the New Years and then move in with a friend in an apartment she found. After that she finished the glass of wine my dad poured for her at the start and left the kitchen when he didn’t have anything to add.
I’m pretty sure that night was the only time I saw my dad cry. He was still in love with her, never ever once thinking of ending their relationship. Never ever once thinking of loving another woman.
 Most children would walk down the stairs they sat on and go comfort their weeping father or at least ask if he was okay. But our relationship was so estranged to the point where I felt no reason to go down and comfort him. He simply was just my father, nothing else nothing more.
I watched him cry silently with his head in his hand as I sat on the steps with my legs close to my chest. I sat there for a few more minutes. I don’t know why I sat there watching for so long. Maybe I was intrigued with the sight, it was something new. A man I’ve know all my life was a mystery to me and now the last sight I might ever see of him is him crying his heart out. But soon enough I got tired, I walked back up to my bedroom and fell asleep to noise of the on going shower my mom was taking downstairs.
The next morning felt cold and unbalanced. The floor was cold to the touch and it was actually closer to noon then morning. The hall was silent as I walked down it and saw at the end of it that my mom was packing a suitcase and a large duffle bag. They were both placed on the bed with an equal amount of folded and unfolded clothes thrown around the two. It was enough to be unable to see the white and blue floral comforter underneath (or I remember it to be enough). I walked into the room and as if I didn’t witness the scene at the kitchen table last night I asked, “Are we going somewhere?”
She was so concentrated with her packing that she jumped startled when she heard my voice. With her hand over her heart, she turned to me with a forced smile (I knew that it was) and spoke words that I will never forget.”
“What were they?” Sebastian asked quietly, his full upper body now laying against the desk where you two sorted files on together almost an hour ago.
You smiled, “Well,
“Sweetheart! You scared me there,” She said, her smile faltering, “No, mommy is going somewhere, alone, but not forever. You’ll have to stay with dad for awhile.” She turned her head away as she folded a few pants and placed them into her suitcase. Then she squatted, and I had to look down to see her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lashes wet. I felt her hands on my upper arms as she continued to talk, “Mommy, mommy needs to go find herself for a bit, okay? Not for long but mommy needs this…I love you, eternally and always”
She left the same day with kiss on the forehead, her phone number seared into my mind and a “Be good while I’m gone, I’m a single phone call away”
And then I was there, at my door step, cold and watching as my mom entered her friend’s car with one last kiss blown to me. I caught it and placed it onto my cheek as she drove off. Now it was me and my estranged father and a lot of complex emotions I didn’t know how to decipher or begin to understand at the age of ten.”
You finished, pausing to take a breath for a second while also stretching your aching muscles.
“And then what? What does this have to do with us? With me?” Sebastian asked harshly as he raised himself from the desk.
“Give me a second, I need water and a snack, I’m a bit peckish,” you joked, smirking to him, before continuing, “Ether way, we’re barely getting into the meat of the story. I was just explaining how I got stuck with my father. Now will be getting into what he was doing
behind closed doors…”
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And we start rolling, ~
@splatting-stampede
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storm-angel989 · 2 months
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Hi! I’ve seen you write Vox x daughter with epilepsy before and it made me wonder how you think he would react if his screen glitched and triggered a seizure. I see him going all super protective once he reboots (Maybe Val or Vel had to step in and take care of reader if he completely crashes for a while) but also feeling super guilty and needing a pep talk from the other Vees or his daughter about how he’s still a good dad.
Hi friend,
Enjoy! I hope I did this one justice- as always, please let me know your thoughts!
<3 Mandy
Vox hated waking up after a glitch. 
In all of his technological control, he hadn’t yet managed to find the circuit in his own body that triggered each seizure. An electrical impulse in the brain, no different than when he was human, seemed to be one of the only physical characteristics he carried over from Earth to Hell. And much like then, the frustration of lack of control irritated him to no end. 
He was fortunate, really. His own VoxTech watch issued an alert to his two best friends, Velvette and Valentino, whenever a glitch happened. It was the best way to assure that he would be found by someone he trusted. Someone who he didn’t mind seeing him in his most vulnerable state. After all, being an overlord in hell meant you didn’t want the world to know that sometimes you peed your pants because of a circuit misfire. 
“Where the fuck am I?” Vox asked, half groggy, half growling as he took in the whiteness of the room. A needle in his arm, wires attached to his screen and his chest.  His favorite suit was missing, replaced by a blue and white hospital gown. He moved to sit up and pain shot through his shoulder. He looked down at the matching sling and nausea flowed through him, from both pain and slow realization of where he was. 
”In the nurse's office, you had a bad one, Vox,” Velvette’s usually chirpy voice was quiet. “How do you feel?”
How did he feel? Anger and embarrassment flooded through him. He was an overlord. To be taken down by a simple jolt of electricity was laughable at best. 
”You know this happens, why the fuck did you…” Vox began angrily. 
“I’m sorry, Vox, but it didn’t stop right away this time,” Valentino explained softly. “  It lasted over five minutes and you dislocated your shoulder- I had to bring you in.”
Vox let out a groan and realization forced him upright. “Where is my daughter? Where is reader and who is getting her from school?”
”Hey, hey, relax Amicico. I sent Angel in the limo to pick her up.” Valentino said soothingly. “He’ll…”
”You sent that whore to pick up my kid? Jesus, Valentino,” Vox growled as he pushed his way upright. A wave of dizziness shot through him.
Valentino seemed to expect his nonsense. Carefully, he laid his hand on Vox’s chest and pushed him back. 
“Reader likes and knows Angel well enough that she’ll be comfortable following him downstairs into my studio. Take a breath…”
Fear shot through Vox. “No. She can’t see me like this. Valentino, Velvette please. Let it go- just have her meet me upstairs, I’ll be out by dinner, I…”
”No, Vox,” Velvette said firmly. “You know, you talk a big game to your daughter. How epilepsy is nothing to be ashamed of. How it's just a little tiny bug in your brain. It doesn’t make you weird nor is there anything to be embarrassed about. How do you think she’s going to feel if you won’t let her come see you in the hospital?”
“I just don’t want her to see me all…weak, and broken,” Vox muttered. “I hate enough that she got this from me, and I don’t…I already feel like a shit father.”
”You’d be a shit father if you didn’t let her see you like this,” Velvette replied. “If you show her you don’t mean what you say. Besides, Vox. She loves you. It would make her worry something terrible if we stopped her at the door. And stress…”
”Stress triggers seizures, amicito. Do you want to be the cause of that?” Valentino asked. 
“That’s a little mean, Val,” Velvette admonished. “But not…entirely untrue. We won’t let her in if you insist Vox, but…”
Vox closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Fine. But if they keep me overnight, one of you needs to…”
”Bathe her, feed her, put her to bed, read her a bedtime story, give her snuggles and get her to school in the morning? Vox, don’t worry about it, it’s not the first time you would be gone for the night and it won’t be the last.” Velvette replied. “So take a breath. Literally.”
”Don’t you remember the last time you were out of town? She dragged Velvette out of her room and into mine, then crawled onto my chest at three in the morning and promptly fell asleep. Believe me, she’s fine,” Valentino added. “And we don’t even know if they’ll keep you. Really, it depends on the X-rays and how badly your shoulder is dislocated.” 
“Daddy!” Reader’s voice broke through whatever it was Vox was about to say. She blurred across the room and Valentino caught her midair as she tried to jump into her fathers arms. “Daddy!”
”Hey hey, calm down, your Daddy is fine. Take a breath, mi a more,” Valentino said as he held the squirming toddler. “You can’t pounce on Daddy. You’ll mess up the wires.” 
“Daddy!” She begged as she squirmed and reached in Valentino’s hold. 
“It’s okay Val, set her down. Babygirl, Daddy needs you to be calm,” Vox said in a gentle tone. “And be careful of Daddy’s arm.”
To her credit, she crawled carefully up the bed and wrapped her arms around Vox’s neck as softly as a child could be expected to be. He pressed his lips to her forehead and wrapped his free arm around her. 
“Daddy, what happened?” she asked as she snuggled into his chest. “Daddy, why’s your heart beating so fast?”
Vox swallowed uneasily as he looked down at his little girl. Velvette and Valentino’s words echoed in his head. Be honest. Stand by what I said to her. 
“Daddy had a seizure. Just like you get, but a little different. I’m okay, sweetheart, but I might have to stay overnight in the hospital. If I do, you’ll stay with Auntie and Uncle, okay?” 
Not to his surprise, she shook her head no and buried her face into his chest. He sighed and stroked her hair. Convincing her at bedtime would be a separate argument. For now, he needed her to go back home with Val and Velvette.
“Then why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it, babygirl?” He suggested as he held her. “Right now, Daddy needs to rest. And probably a few more tests. And you, young lady, need to go home and have dinner. And it's bath night.” 
“Daddy, I just got here,” she protested as she wrapped her arms a bit tighter. “No, Daddy.”
“Baby, you’ve been in the hospital before too,” he reminded her as lightly as he could. “The doctor is going to come and run tests, and I’ll be home as soon as I can. I need you to be my brave, big girl and listen to your Auntie and Uncle. Can you do that for me?”
He watched as she considered. Finally, she sighed but snuggled in and kissed his cheek. 
“Okay, Daddy. But I want Uncle Valentino to give me my bath. Auntie Velvette doesn’t let me play with my rubber duck.”
“Because you squirt water at me!” Velvette protested lightly. 
Vox rolled his eyes but kissed her cheek. “Fine. Go with them now, I’ll be home as soon as I can.” 
“Feel better, Daddy,” she said with a final squeeze. “I love you.”
He swallowed, the feeling of guilt again washing over him. “I love you too, baby.” 
He watched as Valentino carried her out the door. To his surprise, Velvette hesitated and turned back, shutting the door behind her.
“I know that look. You’re a good Dad, Vox. So cut the shit, okay? Every parent needs help sometimes. You’re no different,” she admonished gently. 
“It’s written all over my screen, isn’t it?” Vox replied glumly. “I just…”
“Enough of the pity party. Your glitch doesn’t make you any less of a Dad. And I don’t know a single kid who loves her father as much as that little girl loves you. So cut the crap and enough with the self guilt.” Velvette turned and opened the door. “And Vox? Get some rest. I’ll have her video chat you tonight before bed. Just because you glitch doesn’t mean you get out of goodnight sillies.” 
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wordstome · 11 months
Text
I am having a goddamn nightmare of a time writing the university au (mostly because I have a shit ton of work to do…for my university…lol) so have some headcanons about the most toxic couple you’ve ever met. mdni under the cut
They’re like the definition of a situationship. They’re dating in every aspect except by name
At first she does try to sleep with other guys like she did before König but that doesn’t last long, because nobody else is as good as him. She will never admit this outside of the bedroom
Meanwhile he literally calls her his girlfriend behind her back
She’s emotionally unavailable toxic, he’s obsessive and possessive toxic
König enjoys the pursuit and just thinks it’s normal for women to be difficult like this. I would say “poor König” but he has a bad habit of picking her up and carrying her places against her will so he’s not that poor
She likes to tell herself she has no attachment to him, but she loves the ego boost he gives her by acting like a lovestruck puppy and following her everywhere. She’s also secretly into him being controlling
She does have her moments of genuinely caring about him, though. She brought him lunch once and he looked at her like she hung the moon the whole day. Her excuse was that she just happened to get/make an extra portion, but she did, in fact, get him a portion on purpose
She basically lives with him after a certain point. Her roommates barely see her anymore since she only comes and goes from her old place to get things. He constantly threatens to change the locks on her, but they both know it’s an empty threat. He much prefers to punish her in sexy ways
She'll just be minding her own business talking to a classmate or perhaps flirting with someone when König will come up behind her and put his arms around her. If she was just talking to someone she'll pat his face before attempting to shoo him off. If she was flirting with someone, she wrenches him off her and storms off in a huff (whoever she was talking to has definitely fled from König's evil eye by that point)
They don't really fight, they just have spats because König is endlessly amused by her anger and she is unable to stay mad at him for long. The one time they had a real fight was nasty, and they didn't talk for days afterwards
She's usually quite a chill, go with the flow person (because if she allowed herself too much stress or anxiety at once it would destroy her), but König brings out the spitfire in her
In equal measure, König is a bit of the shy and quiet giant type, but she brings out the brat tamer in him. They alternate balancing each other out
It's kind of easy to look at them and go "why are they still doing this to themselves" but when they get along (i.e. he's behaving himself and she's not pretending not to know him) they're as functional as any other couple
This definitely goes without saying: the nastiest most bed-breaking sex. They fuck like they’re trying to murder each other
I know it's a pet peeve of many people when they say the reader is ooooo so small and delicate next to the cod men, and I tend to agree. However, unless you are also nearly seven feet tall and built like an olympic swimmer, I'm just gonna say you're smaller than König
That being said, he LOVES using his size against her. Picking her up, bending her over things, bending her in half (mating press, his beloved)
If he wants her to stay, she'll stay. He'll have one hand on her throat pinning her down, the other keeping her open to slam into her
This brat will look him dead in the eye and ask "is that all you've got?", which obviously makes him lose his mind in the best way
She definitely has more experience than he does, which actually works out in his favor: him getting better at fucking really just means he's getting better at fucking her
They're so goddamn nasty they've definitely fucked in semi-public places because she teased him to the point of madness and he popped a boner so hard it was painful
Oh, the dirty talk. König is such a gentleman outside of the bedroom, but the degradation that comes out of him while he's fucking her is toe-curling. A lot of "nobody else can fuck you like this" and "all you're good for is taking me in your tight little hole"
He growls??? I don't know if y'all have heard his voicelines in German but he snarls at her when he's trying to teach her a lesson and it turns her into putty
This post is dedicated to @kneelingshadowsalome, who is waiting for this fic so patiently and is my shining beacon of motivation at this point lol
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agirlandherquill · 3 months
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alpha-write
returning to writeblr after a short break has been so enjoyable I thought I'd kick things off by creating a tag game of my own! (since the first one I made people really did seem to enjoy, and it warms my heart) and it's an easy way to ease myself back into the creative flow, so here goes!
rules: for every letter of the alphabet, compose a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter
A - "Anything you have to say for yourself? Or is nothing perhaps the better choice for you? How else could you justify the blood on your sleeves?"
B - "Broken. Not bruised, not damaged - You made me broken. That hardly seems fair."
C - "Can we do this?" "Can? We will. We have to. It must be done. Right or wrong, balance must be restored."
D - Dragging a corpse is difficult enough, but when you resemble a corpse yourself? There's some irony in there that even the Gods aren't smart enough to conjure.
E - Everything hurt, everything ached beyond relief, beyond the threshold of pain, until she felt nothing and everything, all at the same time.
F - Forget him? That was a plea she could never answer, could never give light to or thought or hope, to forget was to forgo herself, her feelings, her very being - He was as much a part of her as the air in her lungs - to lose him would be death.
G - "Go." Not a scream, not a growl, but a whisper - a calm command that sent the hairs raising along her skin. For once, she obeyed.
H - How did this happen? How did she forget herself so badly, so stupidly and allow her vulnerabilities to be exposed? Even worse, how could she let him be the one to do it? He knows, and knowing is death. This was the end, for her, she knew it.
I - "If you must be such a pain in the neck could you go about it quietly? One more squeak from the sole of your boot and I will rip those laces out and around your neck. I mean it." "Then give me a reason to stop pacing."
J - Just a kiss. Just. As though the fleeting encounter was nothing more than that, as though it hadn't taken every strength he had within him. To her, it was just a kiss. To him, it was ruin.
K - "Keep running. To stop now is death, is that what you want? Because I will not stop to carry your corpse, I will not stop to remember you. If you falter, you are gone. Do you hear me?"
L - Loathing burned her insides, it sent her skin crawling with heat and her muscles tensing with a carefully restrained scream. She loathed him. That was it. After all this time, she understood it. It was not love, it was loathing.
M - "Marry me." "The last time we tried that... Someone died." "Marry me." He said again, more firmly. "Marry me, or we both die."
N - "Never again." "Why? What was so wrong the first time?" "The dozens of times after that. It cannot happen." "A kiss never got anyone killed." "Then you do not know this Court, and you do not know me."
O - "Opinionated, are we?" "Is this because I told you to your face what a horrifically mannered man you are?" "No, this is because you tried to stab me with a fork." "I missed, didn't I?" "That's hardly the point."
P - Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, she let herself break, let the tears fall and the emotions flow. He said nothing, and neither did she, it was only them and the silence of the lake, and that was enough.
Q - "Question me again and we will see what happens when you try my patience." "Try? I've been getting under your skin for the better part of the day, why haven't you done anything about it?"
R - Rest was a foreign luxury, it had abandoned her body long ago, instead she lay suffocating in boredom and misery until she could bear it no longer, and found herself outside his door.
S - "Step away, out of this room and far from earshot - Do it now, before I see fit to carry you."
T - "Trust me." "Why-" She had no chance to complete her question, he threw her out of the window.
U - Under the stars, all seemed calm, a false calm, but a calm she had long since been craving nonetheless, until his voice, as gentle as the wind, startled her wishful reverie. "Leave if you must, but not without knowing that I love you."
V - Verily, she was done. Her soul was in ruins, her body in tatters, and her heart beat it's last drum.
W - "When you decide to have some compassion, let me know, until then I want nothing to do with you."
X - (if this one's impossible to do, no biggie, skip if necessary) - "Xanthetia is a flower full of poison that could damn well kill you, what are you doing lying in a bed of it?" "The scent is the only thing that helps me sleep."
Y - "You know what you did. As do I. And it's unforgivable." "I do not seek your forgiveness, but I will beg, every day if I must, for the honour of your company." "...We shall see."
Z - "Zealous, insufferable bastard - that's what you are!" "You've said worse, you can say better than that." His smug look riled her up even more. "You are incapable of being loved, you're not worthy of that, only loathing, you despicable, monstrous being!" "Loathe away by all means, I rather enjoy the flush it brings to your face."
i'll make this an open tag as well as include my tag list! (this one's a doozy, so bear with me)
@the-ellia-west @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @tiredpapergirl
@365runesofthesystem @coffin-hopping @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @a-mimsy-borogove @frostedlemonwriter
@i-do-anything-but-write @r-u-living @thatuselesshuman @lead-to-code @sunflowerrosy
@theaistired @phoenixradiant @autism-purgatory @corinneglass @patheticexcuseforawriter
@missmisanthrope @littlestchildofthemoon @morganxduinn @thebrownleathernotebook @rmhashauthor
@lamuradex @fantasy-things-and-such @glasshouses-and-stones @hattonthehatman @humbly-a-doppelganger
@hopewriteszstuff @ramwritblr @s-pendragon7 @thelastneuron @heartreactor
@ihauntmyhouse @shiningstars-world @scaewolf @just-emis-blog @joeys-piano
@ramitola @yrndrgn @riveriafalll @lawrencespen1777 @theverumproject
@zackprincebooks @justjariel @orion-lacroix @jupiter---daydreams @vinniehorrible
@stars-forever @thewritingautisticat @anaisbebe @whatwewrotepodcast @appleandsnow
@urnumber1star @chaotictravelerrants @andagii-projects @dragmewithyoutonirvana @a-bi-cat-with-books
@fearofahumanplanet @just-a-domesticated-cryptid @attemptingwriter @kitkins13 @ray-writes-n-shit
@theonewholivesinthemovies @rheas-chaos-motivation
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chocsra · 11 months
Note
hello!
i’m so glad to have found this blog as i saw your lala land inspired fic awhile ago, and just as i saw going to open your account, tumblr refreshed💔
anyways, i ADORE your writing!!
if not too much to ask, may i ask for chuuya (whatever age you prefer) x fem reader with the one bed troupe? (enemies to lovers hehehe)
reader has a tendency to grab on and get on top of things in her sleep, pillows, sheets, attractive ginger men, you name it!
they wake up in each others arms, like literally TANGLED with each other
once again, many thanks for your amazing writing!
"Embers"
16! Chuuya x gn! reader
A/N: thank you sm anon! sorry i didnt get to this sooner omg 😭😭 also omg i was contemplating whether i should do the petty enemies to lovers like in my lala land oneshot or like hatred. kinda did a mix of both but since the req said enemies to lovers i made it more mean 💔💔 sorry for the language guys i swear a lot. also after writing is i realise there are no gender descriptions so enjoy
content: swearing, slowburn, denial, fluff, enemies to lovers, subordinates, mafia work
"Fuck you,"
A cold air chilled through the night's breeze, you had just completed a tough mission for the Port Mafia. A planned out heist only prestigious members of the mafia could carry out. And here you were, with probably the subordinate you'd rather tear your own ears off than be next to. Chuuya Nakahara, a jewel smuggler known for his deadly duo named Double Black, with Dazai Osamu.
There was practically nothing to like about him - as a person, friend or subordinate. Upon your hang outs with the Flags - a mafia subgroup composed of young blood, his contribution to the group was like an angry fucking dog.
"I didn't even fucking say anything," you respond dryly, irritation laced in your voice. The hotel you were staying at for the time being was pretty grand. Only problem is, among slamming your items down on the cold wooden floor, blood slithering in the cut flesh of your stomach; there laid a king sized bed, clean and fresh, the silk matress looking as tempting as ever - but fuck, there was only one of them.
"You fucked up my flow." your subordinate hissed, clicking his tongue in annoyance before running to the bed, contaminating his dirty ass on the damn bed by laying on it. "Well fuck you too!" you shout, following him to pull him off the bed. "You're gonna make the bed dirty you shithead!" you tug on the sleeve of his arm annoyed, the ginger looks at you offended, the sweat from the hot air from outside making his orange locks stick to his forehead. "It's not like I'm sleeping on it?!" he retorts, letting his arm get dragged by you off the bed.
"Well obviously..!" you scoff, crossing your arms as his low-lided stormy grey eyes bored into yours. You can't lie, he had medium to longish hair tied in a low ponytail and.. You could almost pinch yourself for thinking of that, fuck yourself, [Y/N]. "Y'know what, just fuck yourself, man!"
...
It's been about 30 minutes, and you've got to calm yourselves down just a little bit. Since there was no couch in the hotel, you begrudgingly agreed to let him hang around on the bed and then sleep on the floor. You had your hair down, and wore some loose pjs.
"How did I fuck up your flow again?" you ask in a whisper, muttering into a pillow. "Mm, you attacked too early, I wasn't able to get my flow, ya know?" the boy arrogantly side eyes you, you snicker mockingly in response. "It's because you're such a fucking tryhard." you answer, pulling the thick blanket over yourself. "Tsk," he clicks his tongue in irritation yet again, turning away from you slowly as he sat on the bed. "I'm not a tryhard, I'm just that good." the redhead responds, you could almost taste the smirk on his stupid little face right now.
"Nuh-uh."
"Yeah-huh."
Neither of you reply after that. A soothing, comforting silence fills the room, he watches as you eyelids get heavier, and you finally close them and seem to drift away to sleep. The teenager thinks to himself: he likes you the most when you're not talking, specifically asleep; but truthfully, he shouldn't like you at all.
2 minutes pass, and he's still on the bed. "I hate you," he whispers, brushing some loose strands of hair out of your face.
5 minutes pass, and he's still on the bed. "That was a joke, by the way." the ginger says to your sleeping figure, "Not like as in 'I hate you' that's a joke. I fixed your hair as a joke, it was bothering me." an expected silence filled the room as your reply.
11 minutes pass, and he's still on the bed. Maybe Chuuya Nakahara is just a creep that likes to watch people sleep as a hobby. "I'm gonna go now.." he whispers to himself, but as if a scene from a horror movie played, your sleeping figure grabbed onto the bottom of his shirt.
"..[Y/N]?" the ginger murmurs in confusion, slowly turning his head around. You sleepily let go of your pillow and wrap your hands around him - the same kid you'd rather rip your own ears off than talk to him, by the way.
Chuuya Nakahara doesn't remember much from that night. He remembers the cold chilling air, pulling you closer to him, he remembers counting the freckles on your face, admiring your eyelashes and how your hair gets matted from the pillow, worst part of all; he remembers telling you something that isn't 'I hate you'.
"You look stupid," he mutters in your ear, his hands were snaked around your shoulders as rumpled hair and half-closed eyes were all that's in sight. "..You look pretty too, though."
He swore to not to talk to himself ever again after that.
...
It was a peaceful morning, the tinge of the sun's rays rained down on your skin, and you felt practically engulfed by a heater, almost like you were hugging one.
Unfortunately, you found your arms wrapped around your subordinate, Chuuya's waist. And you found him sleeping with his lips brushed against your forehead, his arms cradling you with such gentleness you never thought he out of all people could have.
2 minutes pass and you're still buried in his warmth. "..Chuuya?" you murmur, watching how the sun kisses his hair's colour ever so beautifully.
5 minutes pass and you're still buried in his warmth. "I hate you, y'know? How'd we even.." you trail off, noticing and counting the freckles on his face: 1.. 2.. 3, fuck!
11 minutes pass and you're still buried in his warmth. "That was completely serious by the way, I really do hate you-"
"Do you talk to people in their sleep as a weird hobby or something?" the redhead mutters with closed eyes, horrifying you with the fact that he was awake.
"What the actual fuck-"
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Text
chapter nine: truth, dare, spin bottles
pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader
summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.
That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?
masterlist
PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER EIGHT: TWENTY STITCHES IN A HOSPITAL ROOM
warnings: language, self-deprecation, negative thought and talk, fatshaming (past experience, not Bucky), alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries inflicted in ch8
word count: 3.9k
Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22 @laughterafter  @blackhawkfanatic @mcira @bxckybxrnes24 @rachellovesloki @toffeacademia @bean-bean2000 @lana525 @selella
A/N: YAY this was an amazing chapter to write -- the last scene in this chapter was what I had in mind when I named this series! I love every single one of u who have reblogged, liked, commented. it means so much to me. also, the instance of fatshaming mentioned in this chapter is almost verbatim a very real experience that happened to me, so pls don't be horrible about it, its literal trauma I carry with me. anyways--enjoy! next chapter is the fluff filled, sexual tension at its peak, chapter that'll be the most coveted and awaited!
“Bucky!” You exclaim as quietly as you can, trying to not disturb Nat who’s just gotten some well earned sleep. The rest of the infirmary is empty, and you’re glad that means nobody is around to witness your incoming breakdown. The waterworks start again, flowing down your face in relief. He’s not dead, he’s not in a coma. He’s your Bucky and he’s safe and alive. 
“Hey doll, come on now. No need to cry, is there?” It kills him to watch you sob, and he raises a hand to brush those tears away, but winces. Something is restricting him, and then he looks down and remembers. The blood, the bullets, the metallic taste still coating his mouth.
“Yes there is! You almost died on me.” 
“How could I die when I have such a sweet woman trying her best to give me a praise kink?” He smiles then, and even though he looks tired as shit, you can tell he’s on the mend. The poison was potent but its effects were definitely reversible. 
You laugh at that, taking his vibranium hand that’s closest to you and pressing a kiss to it. “Well I had to stop you dying somehow. If I can turn you on, maybe you could focus on your raging boner instead of wanting to sleep, right?” You laugh again, wiping your tears as his hand cups your face, stroking your cheek in pure adoration.
“Did—Did I really have a boner, doll?”
“I’m not sure, love. I was a bit more focused on the gallons of blood you were losing.” His gaze travels down your form, and you know he’s checking for any injuries as you stroke the inside of his wrist in reassurance.
“I’m alright Buck.” Then he sees your hand, and the taste in his mouth sours as he remembers it’s origins.
“Your hand…I did that. I did that to you.” He retracts his hand, pulling himself away from you and into his most familiar mindset, where he’s convinced he’s a monster and a murderer. You have to pull him out again, you need him next to you.
“Bucky.” You keep your voice firm. “Bucky, no. You didn’t do this to me. It was necessary, the situation called for it. And I’m completely okay. I got it looked at, and it’s not that bad.”
“How many stitches?”
“Buck—.”
“How many stitches?” You can see him shake, horrified at what he’s done. But he hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Six.” His eyes water, and you try to wipe them away.
“No, don’t touch me. Doll, I hurt you, I’m a monster, please don’t touch me.” You know he’s not, you want to bring him back. Back to the Bucky you know, and love. Your heart aches at his words, knowing he’s depriving the both of you some much needed comfort.
“No, you’re not. Bucky, look at me. I love you. You’re my best friend. You were in pain, you needed to be stitched up, and based on the level of poisons in your system, you couldn’t have dealt with that level of pain, especially because of the antidote already kicking your ass. We didn’t have any towels or clean cloth for you, which is my fault, I should’ve checked it before we left. You’re not a monster, Buck. You never have been. You never will be, not to me. You’re not a monster.” His eyes soften and when you reach to dry his tears, he doesn’t stop you. All he needed was reassurance from you, and his resolve quickly crumbles.
You’re gentle, well aware of his vulnerability. You decide to change the topic, speaking in a much more hopeful voice.
“Once you’re better, me and Nat made plans for all of us to go out for drinks and celebrate, because we got what we needed. You did good, love. You just saved the entire nation from God knows what H— that organisation had up their sleeve. You’re a hero. Well, you always have been. But you’re a damn hero, Bucky, and I’m so damn proud of you.” He begins to sob and shake, and you hold his hand. “Would you like to go out with us?” He nods, and you smile.
“Come here, doll. You need to get some rest, you’ve been so busy tending to me, and crying.” He shuffles over with a smile, making room for you in his cot. And you can’t deny it, can’t deny the heavy exhaustion taking over your body at even the mention of sleep past his lips. “You’re my safe place, you know that? I couldn’t sleep a wink without knowing you were okay. I think this is why they don’t let us treat our loved ones back where I’m from. Because the sight of you broke me so bad I almost couldn’t do anything.” You curl into his side, eyes closing as one hand rests on his chest, the other tucked around your own middle. You head rests comfortably against where metal meets flesh, and you absentmindedly press a kiss to one of his scars there. His hand brushes across the bandages, and it feels like if you were to unwrap them, your hand would be good as new. This is what his golden touch does to you, and you’re sick of denying it. Maybe when you go out for drinks in a couple of days, you’ll make your move. Or at least, express your interest.
“You’re my safe place too. I hope you know that. And that there’s nobody else I would’ve let touch me anyway, especially if you weren’t there to oversee it.” His scent grounds you, and you missed being able to feel the vibrations of his chest when he speaks. You miss him like you’ve not seen him in years. 
You let out a breath, and let yourself fall into sleep, murmuring “I do.”
He holds you tighter, and follows suit.
                                            ————————
You wonder if this is a bad idea. When Nat was dismissed and Wanda had come back from a weekend trip with Vision, you had organised to go out for drinks. 
And you’ve decided that you’re going to try flirting tonight. With Bucky, and hope he’ll pick up what you’re putting down and either politely turn you away (likely) or finally make the move. And not a quick peck on the lips before he almost dies, a proper, sweeping off of your feet, romcom worthy kiss.
When you’d first arrived in New York, you’d decided to put your beaten, broken heart in a cage, and throw the key into the closest filthy river. And yet, Bucky has bended the metal bars with impressive strength and reached for it. He’s patched it up piece by painstaking piece, and made it good as new. You were content in your self-made captivity, the cage was once just fine, until it wasn’t. Until the winter sprung forth with freedom hues, and your heart was just out of one jail into another. 
But at least the warden is a sweetheart, keeping your heart healthy and well-kept. Your bars are his ribs, and at least you can see the daylight from in here. 
You’ve decided to up your going-out outfit to the next level. A black dress covered in deep red roses, just the shade Bucky likes, that shows off a good amount of your cleavage and emphasises the curves of your body in a way you don’t mind. You pair it with a leather jacket, and heavy, dark makeup. It’s a little experimental, but not out of your comfort zone. You used to wear eyeliner and dark lipstick all the time, on almost-dates and never-fun nights out. 
You’d stopped going all together, preferring to stay indoors, in your house, where no man can passively show you just how much prettier he finds your friends, or how much they’d prefer if you just lost a little weight. 
Safe to say, you haven’t experienced nights out in New York. And you can’t even get drunk at the moment, seeing as your hand is yet to heal. You’re just lucky it’s your non-dominant hand, so you were able to do this makeup look to yourself with a few tips and tricks from Nat. You smooth down the dress while adjusting the bangles on your wrist and the wolf emblem glinting against the very top of your breasts. You smile, dark red lips stretching back at you in the mirror.
You know once you step out of the house, and see almost any other woman who’s put a lot less effort into her appearance and somehow looks ten times better than you, you won’t feel pretty. Not even one bit. You’ll know, that even the way you look with the most effort is a million times uglier than anyone else at their worst.
But right now, you feel good. Pretty, even. You turn, watching Nat and Wanda watch you as they’ve already gotten ready and are waiting for you. Everyone in this room is aware of what your plans are.
“Alright, girls. Do I look good—I mean, do I look okay?” For a minute your past traumas flash before your eyes. 
Adjusting a necklace, turning to someone you love and trust, asking if you look good. They reply with “It’s okay, but it would be better if you reduced your volume.” Cruelly mentioning your weight, and then the whole night spent with tears streaming down your face and having to blame it on allergies. You swallow, even the mere thought of that experience almost making a large lump appear in your throat. Why are you thinking of that? It must be the nerves.
“Okay? Girl, you look drop-dead gorgeous. Hell, if you weren’t so down bad for Bucky, I would’ve asked you out in a heartbeat. Absolute heart-stealer.” Nat grins, eyeing you up and down. You know she’s just being nice, but it makes your heart swell all the same.
“Yeah, and if me and Vision weren’t so madly in love I would ask you to run away with me. Fuck, what are you doing later?” All the three of you laugh.
You have a history with having things like this said to you as a joke, but it’s never been so well-intended. While your self-esteem is mildly intact, you thank the both of them.
“Alright, I’ll see you guys there. Bucky’s taking me on his motorcycle.” You grab your maroon purse and head out to the front. Bucky’s dressed in all black, leaning against his motorcycle. Dear God, he looks so sexy. He’s typing something on his phone looking all angry, eyebrows furrowed. The moonlight paints him in the most glorious shades, of black and brown and glimmering gold. Home. That’s what he looks like, to you. Home. No longer a place thats an ocean and half a country away. This man, this super soldier, in whose presence you’ve felt like you belonged more in these past few months, than a lifetime over there.
Your chest fills with pride, and you can’t stop yourself.
“You showing off that metal arm tonight?” You skip the last few steps, stopping in front of him. You’re lucky you didn’t trip, it’s the first time you’ve worn heels in ages. Another memento of a time, of a version of you long gone.
He looks up from his phone, and his jaw goes slack. His eyes follow your figure up and down, mouth still hanging open.
“Doll—I, um, you—.” You put you hand on his shoulder, drawing his cerulean eyes up and straight on your lips. He licks his own, and everything flies out the window. A hot pressure ties itself to your lower belly, and you feel your face flush. 
You do have his attention after all.
You smile, looking up at him and grinning like a devil. He’s still at a loss for words, even as you squeeze his bicep. 
“Bucky…Should we get going or are you planning to stare at my mouth all night?” Your head tilts to the side, and it seems to snap him out of whatever daydreams he’s been conducting in his mind, so vivid they bring a pink glow to his cheeks.
“I—Yeah. Yes, let’s…let’s go. Where are we going?” You laugh at his stupor, walking over to his motorcycle and running your hands along the worn leather seat. For a moment, you think about all of the other girls that must have sat behind him, gripping onto him and pretending to be scares, when in reality they just want to cop a feel.
You wonder if you’re half as pretty as any of them, to him, at least. “This is an amazing bike, Buck. Incredibly sexy.” When you look up, you notice him watching you. You flash him your signature sweet smile, and he finally approaches the bike, putting his hands dangerously close to yours.
“Not nearly half as sexy as you. You look—Well, you can probably guess by my lack of words, but—You look gorgeous, doll. Truly. I—.”
“Thank you.” His demeanour finally cracks, a small smile appearing on his face when he realises you’re not fighting him. He wordlessly hands you a helmet, and clips it on for you, warm hands lingering under your chin. 
“Hold on tight, doll.” And then he zooms as fast as he can, with the wind blowing in your hair feeling incredible, even though you clutch onto his middle for dear life.
Your favourite part is when he stops at traffic lights to reach behind him and cheekily run his fingers along your knees and the very lower parts of your thighs, and somehow, you’ve never felt more wanted in your entire life.
Always a compliment or a cheeky joke on his tongue the entire way there— it makes your insides swirl, wondering if it truly can be that your feeling are the 10 to his 0.1.
God, you hope so. 
“Hey, Buck, can we talk tonight? After we come back?” You say to him, just as he’s unfastening your helmet and storing it back in his bike, not without admiring you shaking out your hair, running your fingers through it to tame the horrible case of helmet hair you’re sure you’re having.
“Yeah, sure doll. You don’t need to ask.” His voice is so soft, and you almost melt into a fucking puddle at his feet.
Great. That’s when you’ll make your move. You two are the last to arrive, as usual, and you casually slip your arms around one of Bucky’s, gripping him tightly to you like he’s your man, fingers intertwining undeniably. For the purpose of the illusion, your poor heart goes along with it. 
He visibly stiffens and so just before you walk into the dive bar, you stop him and lean in to whisper into his ear. You don’t mean for your voice to drop an octave with your volume, but it so happens. “Buck, darling. I can stop, if you want. All you have to do is say so, you know that, right?” You don’t miss the catch in his breath, the way his eyes flutter closed as he tries his best to retain his composure. 
“Please.” He turns his face toward you, and you don’t anticipate having your faces so close. You can see the golden flecks in his eyes, as pure as his soul and heart. You wonder where it is, knowing yours fully resides behind the bars of his ribcage. 
“Don’t stop,” he all but whispers and it takes a mountain’s worth of effort to conceal the moan slipping past your lips at his words. He’s done it on purpose, you’re sure.
The kiss has changed the fate of you and him, whether that be for worse or for better. You want him either way. 
You glance at his lips, and you notice how some of your lipstick has ended up just to the side of his ear from your sexual whispers. 
“Oh, sorry. My lipstick’s all—“
“Leave it. I want everyone in this bar to know who I’m with tonight.” His eyes find your lips again, no longer perfect from the smear decorating his face.
“You’re with me?”
“Always.” You want him. Desperately. To push him against the brick and mortar and kiss him like the world is ending tomorrow, and it makes your heart pick up. He notices, and you can feel the desire simmering in the air between the both of you. 
“Dear God guys, you can eyefuck each other later, now get in here.” Natasha’s voice distracts the both of you, heads whipping in comical synchronisation to stare at her bug-eyed, feeling caught by her crudeness. 
“We—I— We’re on our way.” You try and cover for the both of you, secretly dismayed by his dismissal of the notion. You try to not let your fears haunt the wonderful moment, even though they stand not too far off on the sidelines, waiting for the change of score so they can step into the limelight.
He didn’t let go of you the whole night. When everyone was a few drinks deep, he let his hand shift onto your thigh, staring at you like you might hate it. You’d grabbed his wrist and stroked the inside of it, knowing it’s his favourite way to be touched by you. 
And then the gang uses an empty beer bottle, spinning it on the tables in a juvenile game of truth or dare. You laugh at it, secretly holding Bucky’s hand under the table. You never got to play this game in school, too busy with work or studying and then getting to that sore age where it just feels So High School(derogatory).
But tonight, you are happy, free. Trying to access a version of you you’ve long discarded.
“Nurse!” Tony calls out, surprisingly sober despite being on his seventh bottle, whose neck is currently facing towards you. 
“Truth or Dare?” 
“Truth.”
“You like someone in this group, in this booth, don’t you?” You freeze. You can’t admit that, definitely not while holding that certain someone’s hand. “Well, it’s definitely not Steve.” Tony laughs, and you feel horrible for the poor blonde, now trying to hide his face in embarrassment. It seems alcohol opens old wounds when in Tony Stark’s system.
“Mr Stark.” Somehow, even fully sober you seem to have an air of confidence about you, mixing with your perfume. “That’s not very nice. How would you like it if someone made fun of when you used to hit on Ms Pepper and she rejected you? You know we’re all good friends here, there’s no need to be horrible to poor Steve, especially not just because he liked someone who doesn’t have the same feelings for him, but still cares deeply as a friend. It’s just not done, Mr Stark.”
You turn to Steve then, apology on the tip of your tongue. “Don’t worry about it, dear. Thank you for standing up for me.” He quickly touches your knee, careful to not let it linger seeing as he’s caught sight of your and Bucky’s intimate contact the second it began happening. “God, how’s she so respectful when telling me off?” Tony grumbles. Everyone’s eyes are on you, and you change the topic.
“I don’t want to complicate things right now, in front of anyone, so I won’t be answering. Dare.”
“Take three shots. I’ve heard you’re a drinker, and you haven’t touched a drop all night. Not fair, is it?” He leans back in his part of the booth, while you try your hardest to seem smaller, squashed between Steve and Bucky. 
You wonder how to answer without trying to seem like you’re chiding Bucky, because you truly do not blame him for your state. Thor replies for you, his voice booming.
“Can’t you see, the fair maiden has an injured hand, Stark. She should not be consuming any alcohol. Not a single drop.” You flash him a smile, even as you feel Bucky pulling away, and you just know the guilt is pulling him away. 
You quickly grab his hand tighter, keeping it on your thigh and making him meet your eye. 
Don’t blame yourself. You silently signal. 
I’ll try. He blinks back and you sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder for a split second in casual intimacy, and it makes him smile.
“Well yes. But also, Bucky’s not allowed to drink tonight either, so I thought I’d join him in solidarity.” It’s not a lie. One of the reasons you’ve been clinging to Bucky all night is to make sure he doesn’t drink alcohol. You know he’s a super soldier, you know you’d gotten him the antidote on time, and you’ve double checked his wounds at least twice in the past 24 hours just to know they’re nothing more than pink marks that’ll be gone by the time the sun rises tomorrow.
But you still worry. You still want to be safe, not wanting to take any risks. Nobody knows what level of poison will always remain in his bloodstream, what the knock on effects of machine produced antidotes are. 
You can’t take the chance. You just can’t. 
“That’s right. Me and my girl are going sober tonight. No shots for either of us.” 
He’s spoken several sentences, but you fixate on four words. Me and my girl. Is it correct grammar? No. But does it absolutely send your mind into a fritz? Absolutely.
“Ugh, all these rules and regulations. Fine then, I dare you to go up there and do some karaoke.” Your eyes widen. How the fuck do you get yourself out of this. “Look, sweetheart. It’s either that or you flirt with the bartender who’s been eyeing you all night.” He tilts his head behind you, and sure enough you’re being watched.
The bartender is not ugly, by any means— tall, brown hair and light eyes. But he’s not Bucky. So what’s the point? That man can stare all he wants, but he’ll never be the one to have you. Not as long as Bucky is next to you, in sickness or in health. 
“Go on, doll. You have an amazing singing voice.” 
“How do you—?”
He leans in to whisper in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “I hear everything you do in your room. When you think nobody’s awake to hear you, or nobody’s listening. I hear everything.” 
And all of a sudden, you’re out of your seat and being pushed to the small karaoke corner and all of the people at your booth get up to stand and hear you.
You know what song you’re going to sing. This isn’t how you planned it, but you suppose you’ll make the most of the situation.
You stand behind the mic stand, and your eyes find Bucky. 
They stay glued on him as you sing Guilty As Sin? By Taylor Swift, imagining all things you’ve never done with him. The way he touches you in your deepest desires, the way he kisses in your daily daydreams. It’s almost too much.
And then you see his face.
Lovestruck, lovelorn, lovesick.
All for you.
NEXT PART
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