#does anybody else feel that way at times or is that just me :’ ))

[melit0n]

"Let the tides carry you back to me." has always been among one of my favourite lines in Telomeres, and so, having listened to it again recently, a little idea popped into my head. Let me explain:

While ocean tides/currents is a very common metaphor, there's an underlying meaning to it. The ocean is a beautiful, but somewhat cruel place: tides can leave you stranded on a sandbank, or sweap you away before you even know it.

To put it in short, no object or creature that goes into the ocean comes out the same. For the tides to carry something back to you, something you've lost, it will be and always will be changed: eroded.

The cliffside will fall, the cave will crumble, etc etc.

With this in mind, we're yet again greeted with another example of Vessel asking for something he can't truly have. The person he wants will not be the same as they were before; they "collapse" into him, breaking apart, but still, to him, it's "the start of something."

His memory is warped, they are warped, and it'll stay that way.

However, what I would like to add is that, in DYWTYLM, it's theorised that instead of Vessel speaking to a second person, he's instead talking to himself.

Of course, this makes the song itself much more emotional (to me). Finding love for yourself is one of the hardest things you can do, but it has to be done to find love in others.

With that idea (stay with me here), the lyrics "Do you roll with the waves? Or do you duck into deep blue safety?" match up (generally) with Telomeres, which is mostly interpretated as being towards someone else.

So, what if some lines in Telemores are directed to himself as well?

Keep in mind, the tides don't just erode and carry objects (sediment), they also reflect. The Atlantic is one big mirror, and Vessel is staring into it's "deep blue safety" wondering what, or, rather, who, he was before he was Vessel.

Overall, the album name, "This Place Will Become Your Tomb", either being directed at Vessel or Vessel to Sleep (and being a Halo quote lmao), is more metaphorical than literal.

Who he was before Vessel sits in that coffin, not his physical body.

[tvrningout-a]

good morning!! i’m gonna be away for a chunk of the day since i’m going out with my family, and maybe when i get home, too, bc i’ve gotten b.g3 as my birthday gift and i know i’m gonna hyperfixate asdfg but i hope y’all have a very lovely saturday!! be safe and take care 💜

[paarksunghoon]

resignation | sunghoon

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: desperately need to rant about my life and I’m doing it by way of enhypen 😩 this is a small little chapter and I have no idea if I’m gonna make this a whole thing, but we’ll see. enjoy for now and let me know your thoughts! xx

WARNINGS: none :)

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Like a bird stuck in a metal cage, you feel trapped in an enclosure that’s meant to prevent you from flying away. That’s what it feels like to work at Park Inc., an international venture capitalist firm that serves Asia and the greater North American and European landscape. Your job is boring and meaningless, and today is the day you decided to do something about it. 

Your alarm rings every morning at 5 A.M. on the dot and today is no exception. Since becoming Park Sunghoon’s assistant six years ago, you’ve learned the masterful art of never hitting snooze after hearing an earful from Sunghoon himself when he requested your presence the following hour (you failed to arrive in time and learned to never go back to sleep unless it was your day off). 

This life seemed like a dream at the ripe age of twenty-one. Freshly graduated from college with no real career goal in mind, one of your academic mentors suggested entering the workforce as a personal assistant to gain social capital and learn about different areas of industry that could potentially lead you towards a career. Your measly business degree left you feeling unfulfilled and your parents’ aloof demeanor towards the lack of job offers lining up after graduating wasn’t the kind of news you were ecstatic about. You jumped at the chance to work as a personal assistant with the assumption that it would be the kind of job that you could pursue in the meantime until something else came along.

This position at Park Inc. fell into your lap like some kind of dumb luck. The role wasn’t posted on any job site. Rather, your name had been submitted on behalf of your academic advisor, which got you your first interview. You suppose that must be some kind of nepotism. After six separate interviews over the course of three months, the job was yours.

You’d saved up enough money, working the night shift at a local restaurant to afford a rundown apartment and a new office-appropriate wardrobe from the local second hand stores in your neighborhood. Pencil skirts, fashionable blouses, heels that promised to last a long time, and blazers that looked professional enough lined your closets for future use. It was an exciting prospect and starting your new life after graduating university felt like a different ball park than when you were still pursuing your degree. 

Despite all of that, you feel listless.

Your days begin before the sun rises and ends just after sunset. Anticipating Sunghoon’s needs is seamless for you, to the point where you’re able to think on his behalf without second guessing yourself. He agrees on most days and doesn’t put up much of a fight when it comes to business matters because you’ve been by his side for over half a decade. You’ve picked him up from many late night rendezvous with women who definitely wanted more than he was willing to give, and you’ve accompanied him to events where he couldn’t bother asking somebody to be his date. You’re his assistant, and therefore you’re always available. 

But you’re just the help. You don’t have any real stake in Park Inc., nor does anybody take you seriously unless Sunghoon agrees with your opinion. You know this company inside and out, and you know exactly how Sunghoon envisions this company to succeed. You act like you’re a managing partner without the title because you’re by his side nearly every hour of the day, and it’s gotten to a point where people me either whisper about a silent affair, or look at you with sympathy because Sunghoon can’t seem to function without you. 

It was fun, at first. Learning how to stand on your own two feet while leaving everything you knew behind felt exhilarating. Abandoning your hometown to explore the big city was a dream come true, and you envisioned all of the late night food runs you’d go on in an attempt to explore each neighborhood within Seoul. The beginning was tolerable at best—if you count crying in your small apartment after thinking you’d never get the hang of this job—and Sunghoon knew to delegate tasks to you based on experience level. He had you fetch coffee and take care of his dry cleaning in the first few months, on top of organizing multiple reports until you were ready for more. He was kind like that, and you’re sure his willingness to help you in your career was why you stayed for as long as you have. 

Six years ago, receiving the amount of responsibility you carry felt like you’d reached the top of the tallest mountain after dreaming of the day Sunghoon could trust you enough to let you do your job without much supervision. You could complete a task for him before he delegated it to you, because you understood his workflow and what needed to be prioritized. The both of you worked well like that, and after six years of getting to know each other, many would say you’re both joined at the hip professionally. 

It comes to a point where you learn that the Sunghoon you see is far different than the Sunghoon everybody else sees. He’s naturally funny and a bit clumsy. He’s professional and stoic when he needs to be, but behind closed doors, Sunghoon laughs your ear off about old men who think they can walk all over his business tactics and people who are too rich to see that they’re the problem. Sunghoon is the best boss you’ve ever had, bar none. 

He’s unlike any of the wealthy, stuck up assholes you deal with on a daily basis. Sunghoon hides his witty, flirty personality behind a professional face in the eyes of higher ups and investors who he does business with. He keeps his personal and work life separate, as far as he can, with the exception of occasionally letting women he meets accompany him to select events that almost always end up in having to kick them out of his penthouse apartment the morning after if they haven’t left already. His lifestyle is one you’ll never get used to. Even after six years working beside Sunghoon, you go back to your humble one bedroom apartment, the same one you moved into once you were able to afford living without any roommates. 

It seems as though life moves for Sunghoon. He doesn’t have to do or say much to get people to fall to their knees or grant his every wish. He’s good looking (that’s something you’ll never deny because he’s objectively handsome), he manages to say all the right things, and he’s really good at his job. Sunghoon comes from a powerful and wealthy family that’s existed in Seoul for as long as anyone can remember, and there aren’t many bad things people say about him behind his back. He’s risky but strategic, gambling on chances that would typically slip through the cracks if not for his watchful eye and modern approach to business. 

You’ve learned a lot from him, too. Sunghoon grew into the man he is today. He’s no longer the overly arrogant and cocky person he was when you first met him, and he’s gained a deeper understanding of the company he’s about to inherit once his father transitions his title unto him. There’s much to be said about powerful men who choose to view everybody he works with as an equal, and while you might legally be his personal assistant, Sunghoon has allowed you to partake in the business too. You’ve been his right hand man ever since he realized you knew the company as well as he did. Yet, you can’t help but feel utterly stuck in this endless cycle of work, work, and more work.

There must be something out there for you that doesn’t consist of answering emails and letting your inbox pile up until the stress eats you alive. Being able to travel alongside Sunghoon for business opportunities has granted you a pathway to see the world, but it’s not enough to accompany somebody else. You want to explore the world by yourself and create agendas for your taste and likeliness, not Sunghoon or potential business partners while you sit in the back and take notes during every conversation. You want to live your life without being chained to a desk and learn what it feels like to try something new. 

For the past six years, your life has been dedicated to Sunghoon and only Sunghoon. 

“Sir?” You say tentatively, knocking on his door while pushing the heavy wooden door open. 

“Come in.” 

You know well enough he’s got nothing on his schedule that would impose a distraction. You slip into the room and close the door behind you with your fingers gripping a beige Manila folder behind your back. Sunghoon wears a suit that’s tailored to his likeness and his hair is slicked back like he’s trying to resemble Patrick Bateman from American Psycho. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of an unscheduled interruption?” Sunghoon asks with humor in his tone. He knows you typically keep to your inbox unless something is imminently urgent.

He turns around from looking outside of his window and watches as you hesitantly walk towards his desk. The office space is huge, bigger than your entire living room, and the sudden realization that you’re about to make the biggest change of your life is weighing on your shoulders. Your feet feel heavy beneath you when Sunghoon glances between your face and the folder in your hands. 

“What’s this?”

You don’t hesitate to open it and put it on his desk facing up.

“My resignation letter.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Sunghoon stares at the letter you’ve typed out and notices the large, black signature at the bottom of the page. His eyes flicker back at you as if to detect any lie in your face before he scoffs with a short laugh.

“Right. April Fool’s Day has already passed. No need to keep me on my toes like you usually do, though I appreciate a good joke.” 

You shake your head. “I’m being serious, Sir. I’m quitting.” 

The seriousness of your voice seems to catch him. He takes a seat on his leather chair and pulls himself closer to the desk to fully examine the letter.

“Dear Mr. Park, I am writing to inform you that I will be resigning from my position as your personal assistant at Park Incorporated. My final day will be two months from the day I hand you this resignation letter. I am committed to ensuring a smooth transition, and will facilitate seeking a replacement while I complete projects and tasks on my docket.” 

He looks up at you.

“You’re breaking up with me.” 

“No, I’m quitting this job.”

“Which is the same as breaking up with me. You’re my business partner, for God’s sake. You come with me to every meeting and important event that requires my presence.”

“I’m your assistant. There are many people who would die to be able to do that for you.”

He looks at you like you’ve set his office on fire. “I will not let you quit.” 

You tilt your head. “That’s not how it works, you know. Soobin from HR will process my resignation, even if you beg him not to. I’m giving you a two months' notice because that is how much I value my time here.” Sunghoon clasps his hands as if trying to make sense of the matter.

“But why? Why now? You’re impeccable at your job. Is the pay not suitable enough for you? I can give you a generous bonus and pay raise, if that will convince you to stay. Do you want a bigger office or reduced working hours?” 

“I don’t need any of that. I’ve made up my mind, Sir.”

“Why?” 

With a sigh, you sit down in front of him. “I’ve spent nearly every day for the last six years catering to the needs of you and this company. I’ve loved my time here, and I credit my ability to navigate this industry to you and this job. You’ve given me incredible opportunities that I probably wouldn’t have gotten elsewhere, and it’s been fun learning the ins and outs of this business.

“But I don't have a personal life at all. My days are spent catering to your needs. I don’t have many friends aside from the people I see in this building. I don’t travel and I’ve had to miss important family milestones because of work obligations.”

“Is more time off what you need?” Sunghoon interrupts. “You’ve earned your fair share of requested time offs, even if it’s a personal day for no reason. You’re responsible enough for me to know you can handle your workload when you get back.” 

You shake your head. “It’s not just that. I…I don’t meet new people anymore. I don’t make new friends and I don’t date because this job eats up my life. I feel like I’ve been wrapped up in this company and doing whatever it takes to help it succeed while neglecting my own needs. I’ve had six incredible years, but it’s time for me to move on.”

“…Date?”

With a sigh, you respond. “Yes, Sir. Just because you can find women at the snap of your fingers doesn't mean that everybody else can too.” 

“You don’t date at all?”

You scratch the inside of your wrist at his question. “I can’t date. I don’t have the time to.”

“So you’re quitting because you want to date.”

“No. I’m quitting because I want to experience life without being on call for when you need my help.” 

Sunghoon purses his lips and you can’t read his expression. In the years you’ve worked with him, learning his every mood has been critical to maintaining cordial balance between the two of you, and with other people who Sunghoon isn’t particularly fond of. You’ve extinguished emotional fires just by glancing at him, but the way he looks at you is something you can’t seem to figure out. 

While you wouldn’t say you’re exceptionally close with Sunghoon, you’d argue your relationship to him is far closer than other assistants in the firm. He might be hard headed and stubborn, but he’s compassionate and understanding. He doesn’t expect you to stay in the office until he leaves unless explicitly stated (which consists of half the week, but you can’t complain when some of your colleagues are constantly working longer days than you). 

He compensates you well from time to time, buying you new wardrobe for events he’s requested you to be at. You have a drawer full of exquisite jewelry. You’ve had the privilege of accompanying him on international business trips. From the outside, your life looks like one glamour shot that’s been afforded to you through diligent work, which is partially true, but seldom do people see the dark circles underneath your eyes or how many meals you skip because you need to cater to Sunghoon’s needs. 

For as lucky as your career has been thus far, it’s all on company time, and nothing is ever because you want to. You get the perks, but it’s a transaction. There’s nothing you want more than the freedom to choose what time you wake up and what time you go to bed.

“I can’t say I’m too happy with this news,” Sunghoon says as he leans back on his chair. “You and I work together really well. I don’t think I’ve ever had an assistant as diligent and as smart as you.” 

“You had three assistants before I came into the picture.” 

“They were terrible. Why did you think you went through six interviews?” 

“I can train my predecessor to be as excellent as I can be. I can do it in two months because that’s the time it took me to get used to you and your habits.” 

Sunghoon remains silent for a moment. 

“They’ve got big shoes to fill.” 

Part of you thinks he’s accepted your resignation. He doesn’t immediately grab the Manila folder with the papers in it. Rather, he closes it and keeps it shut on his desk with his hands clasped like he’s afraid it’s going to materialize and escort you out of his office.  

“You’re still needed for events and other internal-facing meetings until your time comes to an end.” 

“Of course, Sir.”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “There’s one tonight. I wasn’t going to have you come to this one initially, but given the circumstances, I think it’s fair that we squeeze in as many as possible before you’re off the hook, no?”

You can’t say you’re incredibly excited by the idea, but knowing Sunghoon, he’s either forgotten he needs someone to act as arm candy or one of his many flings bailed on him at the last minute. 

“I’ll have my car pick you up from your apartment at 8 P.M. Don’t worry about checking in early tomorrow, either. Come in at nine instead, and get some sleep tonight.” 

Nine is still early, especially if you’re going to accompany Sunghoon to an event this evening, but it’s better than getting four hours of shut eye before you’re needed the next day. 

***

A section of your wardrobe is dedicated to items Sunghoon has gifted you throughout the years you’ve been with him. They’re far more expensive and of higher quality than the garments you buy for yourself, and the jewelry is far too precious for you to mix in with your everyday wear. They sit in their own designated section, away from your business attire and weekend wear.

Back when you started this position, Sunghoon found it amusing that you refused the luxurious gifts he’d offer for large tasks such as acting as a liaison at black tie events or helping him with projects that required you to look more presentable than remaining in an office. He bought you enough dresses, shoes, and jewelry until you were able to rotate a few pieces so that you’d never have to wear the same thing twice in a row. To assuage your mind about the prices of each item, Sunghoon would tell you to wear it out on a date with a special someone or to important events that required you to dress up a bit.  

When you pull out a sleek baby blue powder dress that hugs your body in all the right places and jewelry to match, the memory makes you laugh. There hasn’t been any time for engaging in those types of things and your life does not reflect that of Sunghoon’s. They gather dust in your closet until you’re needed to make an appearance as his well-trained, capable assistant. His colleagues know to defer to you unless Sunghoon’s word needs to be confirmed, and that’s how the dynamic has been for the entirety of your working relationship with him. 

You don’t put much effort into your appearance tonight. After touching up your makeup and slipping on a pair of black sling backs that match a black Italian clutch purse he had gifted you on your first international trip, you wait for the car to arrive at your doorstep. 

Surprisingly, Sunghoon steps out from the backseat and holds the door open for you.

“…Sir?” 

“Right on time. You look stunning.” 

His compliment flies over your head as you try to make sense of what you’re seeing. You’re used to meeting Sunghoon at the fairgrounds and not holding the door open for you in his personal mode of transportation. The only time the two of you arrive together is when you depart from the office. Sunghoon is a busy man who makes work his priority. He doesn’t escort you from place to place. That’s your job.

“What are you doing here?” 

He beckons you inside of the car. The partition is raised to give the two of you some privacy. Sunghoon slides into the backseat and puts a respectable distance between the two of you when the driver begins to drive away.

“It dawned on me that I rely you on you for so many things, and yet, I can’t seem to take an hour of my day to ride with you to events I’ve asked you to be at.” 

“It’s my job.”

“No, your job is to make sure I don’t lose my head.”

“If letting you work while I drive alone makes your head stay on your shoulders, I think that’s a job well done.” 

He purses his lips. “Still, I don’t think ending my workday early to pick you up will kill me.” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“This isn’t changing my mind, Sir. I still plan to leave the company.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Worth a try. But I meant what I said about accompanying you. We’re a team, even if your position is just my assistant.”

“Sir—”

“Sunghoon,” he interrupts. “Call me Sunghoon.”

“...Sunghoon.” He smiles.

“That’s more like it.” 

***

will there be a part 2? who knows

[samiferboy]

i just can't fuckin get anything done rn. idk what it is, I've barely been able to write anything for a week. gonna have to experiment with ways to get my mojo back bc this sucks, I just want to finish ch 7 and then make more edits

[yoyomomiko]

Hiiii, I love your writing sm! <33

Could you write monster trio hcs with an s/o who is completely oblivious to their flirting?

Obvs u don't have to write this if u don't wanna! :]

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: luffy doesn't really flirt (I don't know how luffy would be flirting I'm sorry), not proofread , probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): okay so like... I kind of got carried away and didn't really stay with the request and I just realized it now that i'm done writing :(( it just doesn't feel right, I mean, they're not really flirting... it's more like, indirect flirting, you know?? i'm veryyy sorry!!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy doesn't even understand the concept of flirting, he simply doesn't know how to flirt. He just does things that feel right, like holding your hand all the time or hugging you randomly.

He CONSTANTLY invades your personal space, leaning in way too close when he talks, but you just assume he's always like that (which, in a way, is true).

Luffy will offer you food, which is a huge deal, but you just think he's being generous and thank him without reading into it.

He calls you "his favourite person" or "his girl", but you just assume it's meant to be platonically.

He'll grab your hand and swing it while walking, and when you ask why he simply shrugs. "Dunno, feels right!"

If another guy talks to you, Luffy pouts and clings to you, but you just think he's being his usual affectionate self.

If you ever find yourself in danger, Luffy's protective instincts go overdrive. However, he doesn't exactly know how to express it in a way that makes sense.

He gives you his hat when it's sunny, grinning at you joyfully, like it's a big deal. And then you're just like "Aw, thanks!" And you don't understand why he looks so disappointed (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Luffy likes sitting next to you during meals, pressing his leg against yours. But you just pull away since you think he just needs more room.

He LITERALLY tells you "I like you a lot!" And you're just like "I like you too!" And ruffle his hair.

He tells you that he'll protect you forever, with the most serious expression ever, and you'll just assume he's being a good captain.

Whenever you hug him, he picks you up and spins you around, grinning like an idiot.

He trusts you with his hat. Like, he trusts you. He lets you wear it all the time, because he knows you'll take care of it. Heck, he's the one placing it on your head! You don't really think much of it, though.

Eventually, Luffy gets frustrated and just blurts out "I wanna be your boyfriend!" And waits for you to finally get it.

———☆

Luffy had been looking for you all morning, walking around the ship, asking everyone where you were. When he finally spotted you on the deck, sitting with Usopp, he rushed over excitedly. He felt his chest tighten whenever he saw you talking with anybody else, but he always brushed it off.

"[Y/N]! I need you!" Luffy grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Usopp's conversation.

"What's wrong?" You asked, chuckling a bit at his sudden enthusiasm.

"I just wanted to talk to you! You always hang out with everyone else, but you never hang out with me!" Luffy pouted, pulling you along toward the bow of the ship. He threw himself down on the ground dramatically, patting the spot next to him. "Come, sit with me!"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit amused as you leaned over him. "Are you really this clingy all the time?" You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Yeah!" Luffy exclaimed with a wide grin, nudging you to sit next to him. As soon as you sat down, he immediately leaned against you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I just like being close to you. You're my favorite person!"

You smiled and ruffled his hair, thinking he was being his usual goofy self. "You're my favourite person too." You replied, smile widening a bit. "You're a great captain."

He grinned, but then he got serious, standing up straight, staring at you. "No, no, I mean... I like you! I really like you!" He repeated, a little louder this time, a faint pink decorating his cheeks.

You blinked at him, not quite processing it. "Aw, that's sweet! I really like you too."

Luffy just whined, burying his face in his hands as he quietly mumbled something under his breath. You just laughed, patting him on the back as he continued whining. "I think you need a nap, Luffy!"

— ZORO

Zoro isn't the best with words, so his flirting is more about physical gestures, like carrying your things and such.

He always makes sure to sit next to you, no matter where you are, but you just assume it's a coincidence.

He trains shirtless around you more than necessary, subtly flexing, but you never seem to notice.

Speaking of training, he helps you train, standing behind you to correct your form, giving you advice.

I already said he's not the best with words, but he has a tendency to compliment you, although not directly. He might praise your abilities in a fight. You don't really think twice about it, but to Zoro, it's his own form of adoration for you.

He always glares at Sanji when he's flirting with you, but you just think they're bickering as usual.

If another man shows interest in you, Zoro's natural reaction is to stare them down with a glare. You'll never notice his intense gaze, because you think that he's just annoyed by something unrelated.

If you ask for help reaching something, he doesn't just simply hand it to you. He lifts you up effortlessly, just as an excuse to feel you in his arms.

If you're tired, he'll literally carry you to the girl's room. You just think he's being a good friend, as if he does it for everyone else (he doesn't).

He loves it when you nap near him during his training, he just likes your presence. You always think it's just because he's comfortable around you.

If you get hurt, he's the first to scold you. "Be more careful." He's the one patching you up, not letting Chopper get near you (unless it's a serious injury).

Zoro's way of showing affection is through silent protection. You'll never notice that he's doing it for you specifically, and he won't say anything to make it obvious.

He also kind of teases you playfully, as a form of affection. He'll make fun of you when you do something silly, but he's never too mean about it.

He gets SUPER protective in battle, always watching your back. He can't bring himself to look at you badly wounded.

Literally EVERYONE notices how protective he is of you, but somehow you never do. Even strangers think so.

Like I've said before, he finds excuses to touch you. For example, gently guiding you through crowds by the small of your back.

He also somehow always catches you when you trip. Right before you hit the ground, he's there, arms wrapped around you and helping you stand back on your feet.

Eventually, he just grabs your face one day and says something like "Damn it, I like you. Get it now?"

———☆

You were standing near the railing, gazing out at the ocean, watching the sunset, completely lost in your thoughts. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps approaching behind you.

"You've been standing there forever. You lost or something?" Zoro's voice came from beside you, his usual gruff voice a little softer.

You glanced at him as a smile tugged at your lips. "Nah, just thinking. The ocean looks really pretty right now."

Zoro leaned against the railing next to you, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't exactly great at this whole flirting thing, but if Sanji could do it, how hard could it be? He decided to go for something subtle. Something cool.

"Yeah, well..." He muttered, his gaze lingering on you a second too long. "It's not the only thing that looks pretty around here."

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. "Oh yeah! The ship looks great in this lighting too." You smiled as you took a look around, completely missing the way Zoro's expression dropped.

He sighed, shaking his head slightly before he tried again. "That's... Not what I meant."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "Oh, you meant the sunset, huh? Yeah. It's really nice."

Zoro stared at you for a long moment, his lips parting slightly, trying to process how this was going so terribly wrong. He tried again, this time leaning just a little closer, lowering his voice. "I was talking about you, idiot."

You blinked at him, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Me?"

Zoro nodded, waiting, praying for the realization to hit you already.

"Ohhh." You finally broke the silence, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat.

"That's really sweet, Zoro! You think I look nice too?" You chuckled, as if he had just complimented your outfit instead of attempting to flirt with you.

Zoro groaned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, sure, that's what I meant..." He mumbled, admitting defeat.

You gave him a friendly pat on the back. "You're getting a lot nicer, you know that? I think hanging around me is softening you up."

He let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze back to the sea. "Or maybe I'm just like that with you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

— SANJI

Sanji is the king of exaggerated compliments. Every time he looks at you, it's as if he's seeing the most beautiful person in the world. "My darling, the moon is jealous of your beauty tonight." is a pretty common line from him, but you just think it's his usual behavior.

He constantly tries to impress you with his cooking. He'll make your favourite dish and serve it with grace, and when you compliment the food, he blushes as if you're complimenting him. You thank him every time, but in your mind, it's just good manners.

He will find any excuse to help you with something, even if it's small, like picking up something you dropped. And the moment you thank him for it he's like "Anything for you my lovely lady!" You just smile and move on because he does that with pretty much every woman.

Sanji's always the first one to offer you his jacket when it gets cold. Sometimes, when he gets brave, he wraps it around your shoulders and makes sure to linger closer to you for just a little longer.

He has a soft spot for you when you're sad, and he'll stop whatever he's doing to comfort you. He'll hold your hand, stroke your hair and whisper sweet nothings. You just assume it's because he's a gentleman, not because he's crushing on you hard.

Sanji can be pretty possessive, especially when another guy is even slightly flirting with you. You'll catch him glaring, and if anyone so much as dares to brush against your arm, he'll throw a fit. That person might get a foot to the face, but who knows!!

Whenever you compliment his cooking or his fighting skills, he gets way more flustered than with anyone else. His eyes will turn into hearts, and he'll literally swoon.

Sanji often stares at you with wide starry eyes but when you catch him, he'll just say something like "Oh, nothing! Just admiring my beautiful angel." You think he's being his usual self or just lost in thought.

He makes a huge deal out of holding the door for you, pulling your chair at dinner and guiding you with his arm. But you think it's just because he's being polite. He tries to take your hand as he walks you around, but you just think he's offering help, never suspecting that he's being a little more than just polite.

After all his dramatic declarations of love, he finally cracks. One evening, while you're standing by the railing, he walks up to you and throws himself down at your feet. "I cannot live without you! You're my everything, and I need you to understand that!"

———☆

Sanji had been watching you all day. When you first arrived and joined the crew, he had already been swooning, but now, after spending this much time with you, he was completely smitten. He had made your favourite dessert just for you, and now he was patiently waiting for you to notice.

You peacefully sat on the deck, reading a book, when Sanji rushed over, holding a plate of freshly made pastries. "Ah, my darling! I've made these just for you!" He smiled, leaning down with a hand on his chest in a dramatic bow. "Only the finest for my beautiful lady."

You looked up from your book, a little surprised. "Oh, Sanji! Thank you so much! You really didn't have to, but I appreciate it!"

Sanji's heart skipped a bit as you reached for one of the pastries, giving him a sweet smile. "Anything for you, my love." He muttered, but his voice came out softer, almost like a whisper. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world. He pressed a hand to his heart, praying you couldn't hear how loud it was beating.

You giggled, thinking nothing of it as you took a bite from the pastry. "This is so good! I don't think I've said this enough, but you're really talented."

He blinked, and his face turned pink, clearly flustered by the compliment. "I only make the best for you, [Y/N]." He replied, his voice shaking just slightly. He leaned in a little closer, almost as if hoping you'd get the hint. "You deserve nothing less."

You looked up, gazing at him, smiling warmly. "Thank you, Sanji. I appreciate it..."

He sighed dramatically and placed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, my sweet [Y/N], how I adore you..." His voice trailed off as he stared into the distance.

"You okay?" You tilted your head, genuinely concerned. But once again, completely oblivious to how he was really feeling.

He slumped forward onto the table, groaning in agony. "I don't think I can take it anymore..." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. "Why can't you see how I feel?!"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[uzicel]

[myunghology]

THE LITTLE THINGS.

summary the little things they do for you, just because they love you. part 1/2 !!

pairings riddle, leona, azul, x gender neutral reader (established relationship)

tw none.. i think IDK

a/n — YAYYY I HIT 1.7K give me more clout pls ily all

✧ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Teaches you even though it's incredibly late at night. His eyes are already telling you that he's tired— and you try your best to tell him to go to bed.

But noooo, he cares too much about you to let you fail your worst subject. He casually waves his hand to dismiss your ideas for him to get sleep, putting you first before anything else. Well, at least he's learning more as well from teaching you.

Your head would be laying on his lap as he explains literal calculus at 4am in the morning, since you woke up in the middle of the night, making HIM wake up as well, why not torment you as well by making you learn with the time?

You give him such attitude early in the morning, saying "I'm sorry calculus sucks so bad, I'm sorry it's boring?" and yet he's completely whipped for you to the point that he's willing to sacrifice his sleeping schedule for you to learn. It's for your own good!

Riddle's possessive.. But in a good way! He just cares too much, not possessive to the point he's controlling, but possessive in a way that he's just overprotective of you.

He's the "Don't let anybody do this to you, unless that somebody's me." type of boyfriend. Can you tell he gets jealous easily? Gets extra snarky whenever someone asks about you, especially when they don't know you two are dating.

The type to pull you closer wherever just from being possessive, and makes an excuse that's basically just "Because you might get lost". Riddle.. The hallway is currently empty?

He will forever be your first and last love. The little things he does for you, it's everything. To you, and to everyone else who sees. The way he ties your shoelaces— which you didn't even notice that was untied.

When you make a mistake and a small "I'm sorry." comes out of your lips while your eyes get blurry, shaking his head as he shushes you and reassures you, everytime without fail.

The way he looks up at your pretty face right after, as smitten as ever and in complete awe, it's not that obvious, but you can see it in his eyes.

The way he's incredibly patient with you, the way you push your luck just to annoy him— luckily not getting beheaded by your own boyfriend. He has always fully believed time has brought you to him, hell, even fate itself maybe.

✧ — LEONA KiNGSCHOLAR

Leona always finds himself ending up with you, one way or another. At the end of the day, he's home. To you. And that's what matters the most to him.

The way he's burying his face in your chest, making a giggle escape out of your lips, a giggle he especially loves, but of course, would never really admit it directly.

This time, it's your turn to tease him for acting like this. But who could blame him? You're so comfortable.. And you're so.. Everything, really.

The soft sighs of relief he lets out when he feels your fingers thread through his long hair, indirectly asking you to not stop, and just keep going.

He compliments you without even realizing. Like it's a natural response to everything you do. From your little "Isn't this bow really cute, Leona?" with a soft smile as he goes, "Yeah. It'd be cuter if you'd wear it, though."

And you're left red and blushing, it honestly depends if he's going to tease you for it or not. But we all know, your blush is never going to get unnoticed by the prince himself.

Gets defensive whenever you bring this topic up. He will NEVER miss a day of complimenting you— even if it's something random. It's either that, or something completely heartwarming.

It ranges from, "You're really short, you know? Could barely even reach the top of the door even if you stand on your tippy-toes. But it's alright. I like it like that." with a smug grin.

To, "What's wrong with you? You're gorgeous. You're gonna be keepin' up with me in terms of persuasion, with those adorable little eyes of yours, are you?" sir this is a wendys

Can NEVER say no to you when you give him that special look. When you look up at him he absolutely melts— and it's painfully obvious it hurts physically (And by that, I mean butterflies.)

"If my significant other thinks they can just bat their cute lil eyes at me and get whatever they want, they're absolutely right." Type of mindset. He'd never admit it or say it out loud, either. We all saw that coming though, let's be honest..

Grits his teeth whenever you look at him with doe eyes, and it makes him weak because he especially loves your eyes, and how much they can say about you and how you're feeling.

✧ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Provides you with anything you need, without you needing to ask, almost everytime he notices. For other people, they'd need payment. But for you..? Ah, just forget about the goddamn contract at this point.

Actually, there IS a payment you have to do. Can you guess? It's definitely something cheesy or corny. Kills myself

Everytime you give him kisses all over his face, he's definitely all read. Who could blame him? We know he's not used to affection like this. And the fact that it's coming from you.. I don't know if that makes it worse or better at this point.

But of course, this will always come with a payment. More of a punishment— maybe. Having to wipe all your faint lipstick marks off his face when he has to be in the mostro lounge, making him just a few minutes late.

He picks up your habits. From talking or texting, no matter how different it is, he'll pick it up. From how much time you two spend together, I can't really say anyone's surprised..?

So, don't be surprised when he randomly responds to you with your usual attitude, or even just talking or texting a little bit like you as well.

The best part is, he doesn't even notice himself. When someone brings it up, he raises an eyebrow and acts like he doesn't know what they're talking about at all.

Gets all flustered when someone mentions you. It wouldn't even be about your relationship and he'd still be a blushing mess. Why? Um.. I dunno..

They probably wouldn't even realize you two are dating until they see Azul's wallpaper is you two, and when he opens his phone, most of the widgets there are your little selfies you send to him for fun.

Whether it'll be a literal thirst trap ("He's getting all red, please stop?" - Jade). Or a 0.5 picture of you sent by a mutual friend, or even Floyd who practically towers over you.

note — 𝔹𝕌ℝℕ 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔾𝔸𝕐𝕊 𝓑𝓤𝓡𝓝 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓖𝓐𝓨���� 𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙰𝚈𝚂 ꃳ꒤ꋪꋊ ꓄ꁝꏂ ꍌꋬꌦꇙ ฿ɄⱤ₦ ₮ⱧɆ ₲₳Ɏ₴ ᗷᑘᖇᘉ ᖶᕼᘿ ᘜᗩᖻS [̲̅B][̲̅U][̲̅R][̲̅N] [̲̅T][̲̅H][̲̅E] [̲̅G][̲̅A][̲̅Y][̲̅S] BURN THE GAYS ßÚRñ †HÈ GÄ¥§ B̶U̶R̶N̶ T̶H̶E̶ G̶A̶Y̶S̶ вυяη тнє gαуѕ ᏰᏬᏒᏁ ᎿᎻᎬ ᎶᎯᎽᏕ ᴮᵁᴿᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴳᴬʸˢ БҴЯҊ ꚌӉЄ ԌДҰЅ ႦႮჁႶ ႵႹჹ ყმჄႽ B̤̮Ṳ̮R̤̮N̤̮ T̤̮H̤̮E̤̮ G̤̮A̤̮Y̤̮S̤̮ B̷U̷R̷N̷ T̷H̷E̷ G̷A̷Y̷S̷ B̲U̲R̲N̲ T̲H̲E̲ G̲̲A̲̲Y̲̲S̲ B̳U̳R̳N̳ T̳H̳E̳ G̳A̳Y̳S̳ B̾U̾R̾N̾ T̾H̾E̾ G̾A̾Y̾S̾ B͎U͎R͎N͎ T͎H͎E͎ G͎A͎Y͎S͎ B͓̽U͓̽R͓̽N͓̽ T͓̽H͓̽E͓̽ G͓̽A͓̽Y͓̽S͓̽ B҈U҈R҈N҈ T҈H҈E҈ G҈A҈Y҈D҈ B͙U͙R͙N͙ T͙H͙E͙ G͙A͙Y͙S͙ B͒U͒R͒N͒ T͒H͒E͒ G͒A͒Y͒S͒ B̻U̻R̻N̻ T̻H̻E̻ G̻A̻Y̻S̻ ḄỤṚṆ ṬḤẸ G̣ẠỴṢ

[bootycallin]

thinking bout how the arcane women kiss… ‹𝟹 ft; vi, caitlyn, sevika, jinx, mel. ⋮ cw: wlw/men dni. little suggestive ig but ultimately sfw. brief mentions of blood. honestly there’s not a lot else. spit? idk

𑁤 vi's kisses were much rougher when she’s right out of prison. final vi is gentler. except, vi is still violet in her essence. her kisses may be a little slower and last longer, but there’s a constant undercurrent of need that she can’t (and doesn’t try to) hide. her lips aren’t the only thing kissing you, as her hands roam in a reverent way such that it feels like her fingertips kiss your body.

𑁤 caitlyn's kisses are brief, but meaningful. it’s not that she doesn’t want to kiss you. she would spend her life with her lips locked on yours if she could. the thing is, she’s a busy woman. even when receding from the role of general and giving her spot on the council to someone else, she’s still the sheriff, and she has the schedule of one. but, her kisses do enough as to remind you that you’re always occupying the forefront of her mind, taking any leftover thoughts she may have while working. she kisses passionate, but has to pull away just as quick, a promise she’ll be back for more when she can.

𑁤 sevika’s kisses are possessive—and very. she kisses like she wants to swallow you whole, or like she wants you to swallow her. she’s quick to slip her tongue into your mouth and down your throat. when you pull away, she bites your lips, tugging hard enough to make you think she’s gonna draw blood. she never does, but she leaves enough of a mark with your lips swollen and red, marking you as hers.

𑁤 jinx is as chaotic with you as she is with her bombs. what else did you expect? she is jinx, after all. she just barely can touch your lips. her kisses are all tongue and teeth and spit. she bites and she growls like a dog, slobbers over you cause she can’t help herself, bites your lip so hard she can taste your blood. if sevika seems like she wants to swallow you, jinx makes it very clear. she’s not like this only when she’s kissing your mouth, she’s like this kissing anywhere—licks up your neck, bites your cheeks, anywhere she can reach. she wants to taste you—all of you.

𑁤 mel is an orderly woman. much like caitlyn, she really doesn’t have a lot of time. unfortunately. she’s dealt with enough. she usually isn’t the one initiating intimacy, so you have to kiss first. mel’s kisses are slow, gentle, but reverent. nearly worshipful. you’re her one safe haven, her safety net, her calm after the storm, and she treats you like so; one hand tangling into the back of your head, threading fingers through hair, keeping you close. one thing about mel is that when she starts, she can’t really stop. she wants to keep going and going and going. but ultimately, you pull away, and she’s left with a little smile, as if saying you caught me. you know, and she knows you know, you’re her true treasure.

.ᐟ.ᐟ honorable mention:

𑁤 ambessa isn’t much of a kisser. she’s a medarda, a noxian most of all. she’s not known to be gentle, not by anybody, and not by you. ambessa kisses the way she fights. she takes, and that’s all she does. tongue down your throat, just barely giving you time to realize she’s kissing you. her kisses are brief, but enough to leave you breathless and gasping. her kisses are never expected, and that’s how she likes it; she likes leaving you breathless, surprised, and probably a little needy—she’s confident in her abilities.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[ceesimz]

growing pains

how does your relationship change, years down the line, with two kids in the picture? (angst + lotttt of fluff. like, 16k of it.)

When it’s right, it’s right. 

That’s something you believed in and always had done. If something feels right, let it happen. Don’t fight it. It led you down many paths, of which were almost always successful. 

Your favourite path, however, was how right it felt when you sat across from Alexia on the first date. How easy it was to laugh and joke with her, to have meaningful conversations about the past, the present, and the future. How quick you decided she was the one for you; in both your relationship, and in parenthood. Coming to the decision of having children with her was like breathing and blinking, it was natural for you. You didn’t want anyone else, didn’t believe there was another person in the world that you’d want to navigate the highs and lows with. 

No matter what happened, no matter how hard it got, not a single part of you doubted you wouldn’t get through it together.

That didn’t mean the first blip didn’t hurt any less, didn’t make you panic or overthink everything any less. The first one might have been the scariest to get through, simply because of the unfamiliarity and unknown of it. And thankfully, it wasn’t anybody’s fault, it was a combination of many things that built up continuously until it all erupted like a volcano. But realising that and accepting that in the moment was an impossible task when it felt like the world was ending and the one person meant to be on your side no matter what was fighting against you.

Your first child, Anaís, didn’t adjust well to moving into her own room without her two parents, like any baby did. Some adapted quicker than others, whilst ones like Anaís just couldn’t bear it. Her reaction of screaming and crying, exerting herself and dropping into a cycle of over-exhaustion whilst being too unsettled to sleep was one of the hardest things you had ever witnessed. The same went for Alexia too.

However, at the one moment you should have been there for each other and collectively there for your daughter, your love got in the way. It sounded backwards, but it was the truth. You both cared for the six month old immeasurably, and that led to your solutions causing you to clash in figuring out what was best for the shrieking baby that just could not settle.

“She won’t stop crying, I’m not just going to ignore her!” 

Alexia's argument was valid, of course it was. Self-soothing was apparently something important to learn in hand with this adjustment for Anaís, the only thing was that it went against every parental instinct in existence, and Alexia just couldn’t handle it. 

You couldn’t either, and she would have recognised that if she took a second to step back and think rationally about the situation you found yourselves. However, all rational thinking had flown out the window for you both, her particularly, because there was no rational thinking to be done when your child was screaming like she was and igniting every ounce of concern either of you had to give.

“We’re not ignoring her, I’ve told you this. It’s an important step, Ale. We’re right here, if there’s somethi-”

“There is something wrong with her! Can’t you hear her?” You huffed and buried your head in your hands where you sat on the edge of the bed, baby monitor beside you with the brunette pacing back and forth in front of you. 

“Stop. Of course I can hear her. This isn’t easy for me either, stop putting the blame on me.” 

You were seconds away from getting up and walking out the room to avoid her misplaced anger. With every shout from her, every exclamation, your emotional stamina was wearing thin; initially you understood where it was coming from, a place of love and fear, it was natural. But each time she raised her voice and grumbled under her breath, you were growing irritated with her at the immature display of emotion. 

The sounds of Anaís’ discomfort was unbearable – every scream made your skin crawl and your heart clench excruciatingly. In situations like this, where you were on the edge of a nervous breakdown, Alexia would be the first person you’d go to. Actually, nevermind that, she would already be there before you reached the edge. She’d be there with open arms and endless words of reassurances, ready to remind you that you weren’t losing your mind and things were solvable. 

Without her there to tell you all that, things didn’t seem so simple and solvable like they usually did. Everything just seemed so much worse. You felt lost without her on your team. 

“I’m not putting the blame on you.” She grumbled, leaning back against the wall by the door and letting out a disapproving sigh that grated at you. A minute or two passed by of silence, the only sounds being Anaís’ whimpers and cries that never ceased. “I’m tired of this, it’s unfair. I’m going in.”

You had to grab onto her hand before she could swing the door open in her aggression, keeping a tight grip when she tried to shake it off.

“Don’t go against me on this, Alexia. It’s no easier for you than it is for me, please don’t rebuttal against it.” You half-warned, half-begged. Only for her to scoff in your face.

“No, I am her parent too, I get to make important decisions too. And I am deciding that this is too much for my daughter.”

She swiped her wrist out of your grasp and stormed out the room, reaching Anaís’ nursery in four long strides and rushing in like a firefighter. After watching her go and hearing what she had to say, you slammed the bedroom door shut behind her. 

At first, your blood boiled at the sheer amount of audacity she had to say ‘her’ daughter, like the decisions you were making had any impact on your position as Anaís parent. Quite frankly, it disgusted you that she chose to say that. Never did you think she’d use such a delicate thing to spite you, especially when you worried constantly about if you were good enough for the sweet little baby whose life depended on you. 

Yet, you could hear every soft and soothing word she sweetly murmured to your daughter through the baby monitor. And for a moment, you were jealous. Jealous of your own child for being on the receiving end of the care Alexia usually gave to you. An intense jealousy that consumed you, seeped into your soul, and took over you like your love was some kind of possession. 

That was when you realised something had to change in this situation. 

This wasn’t the way you wanted to raise your child. Even though there wasn’t even the slightest possible chance Anaís would remember it, you knew the effect these kinds of things had on children, and both you and Alexia had sworn that, no matter what, Anaís and any future children would never know what it was like to grow up in a home that wasn’t drowning in love. Not even for just a second.

You took a deep breath, or ten, and tried to relax the tension in your shoulders. They were nearly up to your ears with stress, you could feel the knots beginning to build in your muscles across your back, as well as a stress headache building up ferociously.

Alexia was the best coparent you could ask for, how she was acting in the other room when she thought no one was listening said all that needed to be said. Anaís’ reaction wasn’t how you expected her to be, and it became very clear that a different approach was needed.

Only you and Alexia know your child. Only the two of you knew what was best, not some random articles and forums. So you took another breath, looked at the love of your life on the screen of the monitor, the mother of your child, heard how perfect she was with your baby, and it all clicked. She was on your team, you were both just too clouded to remember that. Clouded because you had made your daughter the top priority, clouded for the best reason, most important reason. You were still outrageously frustrated at her and the comment she made, but she’d make her regret known, you could hear it in the quiet sniffles that sounded through the small monitor sporadically.

Down the microphone of the baby monitor, Alexia was still quietly mumbling to a significantly calmer Anaís, and it warmed your heart. You held down the button to get the microphone on your end to work, waiting for a second as Alexia finished her rambling and placed a gentle kiss to the tired baby’s head, punctuated with a swipe of her thumb against her own cheek to rid it of the wetness that had accumulated.

“Bring her back in here, Ale.” You told her, stifling a smile at the way she jumped a little at the unexpected voice in the room. She nodded though, and did as you said.

She looked a little sheepish as she walked in, her arms cradling Anaís and rocking her ever so slightly. You shuffled to sit back against the headboard and patted the space beside you for her to sit too. In her arms, Anaís was minutes away from falling asleep, finally. Meanwhile, the two of you had stress lines and dark eyebags that told a story in itself. One you wanted to end, so desperately. 

However, you weren’t going to be the one that gave in first. You deserved an apology and you could tell Alexia knew that with how she sat uncomfortably beside you, her guilt evidently eating away at her. The second she opened her mouth, you already knew you’d forgive her, and that she was the only person in the world you would navigate this pathway with.

It seemed Alexia felt that way too.

“I… am so sorry.” She whispered, accompanied by a sigh that was a lot gentler, quieter, not a spiteful one like earlier. 

Your eyes drifted to your daughter and remained unmoving, stuck on the slight up and down of her chest as she breathed and the flutter of her tiny eyelashes as she fought sleep once more. Alexia seemed to notice, and though she would keep Anaís in her arms forever if she could, the only other person she would let her go for is you. 

“Take her. She’s okay. She’ll fall asleep right away with you.” Her voice was so soft, the contrast of it then compared to before, it made your heart ache. 

You didn’t stay on that note too long as you tried to ignore the lump in your throat. Instead, you reached for your daughter instead, being careful to keep the peace that’d finally found her. Alexia lay her in your arms and you leaned back against the headboard, cuddling Anaís as close to you as you could get her. It wasn’t until now, with her in your hold, that you realised just how much this whole thing had affected you. There was no point in fighting off the overwhelm of emotions that started cascading over you. If Alexia felt guilty before, it increased by an astronomical amount when she saw the first glimmer of a tear stream down your cheek in the low light of the bedroom.

She let you have your moment with your baby, knowing it was the main thing that could ground you then, and she’d wait for her turn when you had the space for it in your mind. The brunette knew, after her earlier actions, that she was low on your list of priorities, that she understood. She made a low blow and hated herself for it.

“We’ll keep her in here for tonight. Try again another day.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against Anaís as she began to doze off. Alexia nodded and left it at that, she could read between the lines of your words as you wrote the conversation off for the night. 

The light weight of your daughter, there was no greater comfort in the world. The second she was away from you, it felt like half your heart had gone with her; you only felt whole with her around, something you never expected to experience before becoming a parent. You simply weren’t you without your new little family. 

Time ticked on a little, it being so quiet in the room you could hear the hands of Alexia’s watch on her bedside table tick by. Anaís didn’t shuffle or stir once, she was almost always at peace with you, something that filled you with both pride and relief. It was enough of a remedy for the tumultuous turn the night had taken, that you leaned your head against Alexia’s shoulder with a tired exhale. The small action turned the midfielder’s whole mood around, unknowingly needing you just as much as you her. Even if sometimes you didn’t feel it, or you did but you rejected it, you would always need her. She’d always need you. There were some occasions where your reliance on each other overpowered your anger, you both needed to get better at recognising that. 

So even though you were still mad, you gladly leaned into her more when she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss on your temple.

“I’m sorry. More than you know.” Alexia murmured, and you didn’t even have to look at her to know there was a self-deprecating frown on her face. Normally you’d kiss it off her or brush the wrinkled lines away with your thumb, but you let this one linger a tad longer. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it and I could never mean it. I’m so sorry, amor. I swear.” 

“It really hurt, Alexia.” You blurted out. You didn’t know you had things to say, but there were words rolling off your tongue anyway. “Don’t ever use that against me again. You… made me feel like a bad mother and you’re the last person in the world that’s supposed to make me feel like that. It really did hurt.” 

Your voice cracked as you spoke, your eyes never moving from your daughter. Still, in your peripheral vision, you saw Alexia turn her head away for a second as she let out a sharp breath. Sharp because it felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart with your honesty, your much needed honesty, but painful nevertheless. It was entirely her fault, she knew that, and to know she had made you feel so wrecked was something she would never forget. It’d be on her mind for the next god knows however long, until she feels deserving to not be reminded of such idiocy, only as a result of you knowing you were a good parent. The best parent. Until you remembered that again, she’d be stuck wallowing in her regret forever. 

After she collected herself again, she turned back to you, attempting to discreetly wipe her tears away that’d come back when your voice wobbled with emotion you never should have felt in the first place. Her arm that was still around you hugged you tighter, and she repeatedly pressed her lips to your forehead as if she was trying to kiss away the hurt you described. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered once more, suppressing a sob as all that ran through her mind was you, the offense you must have taken, the doubts that must be running rampant in your head, all these things you never should have to experience yet you did then because of her own stupid actions. “You are the best parent, I swear my life on that. On everything I have. There is no one else that could give Anaís the love you give to her. You’re the love of my life, the love of Anaís’ life. She looks at you like you’re the only person that exists, she adores you, and that’s because of how amazing you are as a mother to her. Look how she has settled now. You’re her favourite person in the world.”

Even though her earlier words still echoed in the background, something about the soothing, sincere way she apologised hit something inside you. This version of her was the version you knew, the one that knew exactly what you needed to hear and when, even if what you needed now was a result of her own wrongdoing. But she was human, she made mistakes, and despite the fact that what she said before rang deep, you knew she didn’t mean it. She wasn’t the type of woman to say something like that and mean every syllable, she couldn’t be further from the opposite if she tried. She was the type to love you when it was hard, to care for you when you pushed her away, and to give you the world when she herself didn’t have the strength to carry it. The important thing was that she tried, god she was the most determined person you’d ever met, and she’d be damned if she didn’t try her hardest to get you to forgive her. 

Hell, you’d made some choice words once or twice to her over the years, you wouldn’t be a good partner if you didn’t give her the same grace she always gave you, no matter what. This time, when tears came to your eyes once more, it was because of her words again, but for totally different reasons. Hearing her talk so warmly and honestly about what she thought of you as a parent never failed to strike you right in the chest.

“You really think that?” You sniffled, gazing down at your sleeping daughter through blurred vision and feeling the soft smile Alexia had to give rather than seeing it, her cheek pressed against yours. 

“I do. You are her entire world, amor.” The brunette replied without a shred of doubt. 

Her fingertips of the arm she had draped around your shoulders lightly trailed up and down your skin in a comforting gesture, yet another reason for the tears that quietly made their way down your cheeks. She noticed, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she chose to take the moment with you, a silent reconciliation where any further words weren’t necessary. The evening had been filled with frustration and, consequently, too many exchanges rife with vitriol that had led to this point. Now, with most of it behind you both, the tension began to dissolve and your focus could be averted back to the important things; your baby, and each other.

Anaís, despite her rosy cheeks and slightly runny nose, was calm again. And that calmness bled into you and Alexia, bringing the two of you down from your heightened states and relishing in the serenity in the room. A combination of Anaís’ muffled snores, Alexia’s steady and forever unwavering presence and hold, and the newfound stillness around meant you could breathe a little easier, think a little clearer. It provided a moment of much needed clarity, where you recognised that any challenge you came across, whether that be in parenthood, your relationship, or the two combined, you could get through them. 

When you woke up the next morning, you had a feeling you’d feel more sure and certain in your capabilities as a parent and partner, with a better sense of the strength you possessed to tackle any obstacles that cropped up in the future. Most importantly, however, you weren’t alone. Though you wished you didn’t have to go through these sorts of things, they provided an opportunity to grow, and you weren’t going to bypass that just to hold a grudge. You wanted to let her know that you were well on your way to forgiving her. 

“I love how she is sleeping like she didn’t nearly cause a war.” Alexia commented some time later, the pair of you breaking into very quiet laughter, fearful of disgruntling Anaís. “How beautiful she is, no?” 

“I know. But it’s a bit vain to say that, Ale, when she’s entirely your DNA and not mine.” You teased, grinning at the shake of her head and soft chuckle. 

“Nuestra pequeña. Qué afortunados somos.” Alexia stated ever so quietly, almost intelligibly, in complete awe. You shared the sentiment, a smile on your face when the brunette leaned down to graze her lips against the young girl’s forehead. 

“The luckiest.” You agreed in a breathy whisper, utterly consumed with love for your daughter, and the woman at your side. 

“I know she has to sleep in her room eventually, but for tonight, we have her in here. And maybe, I don’t know, we think of a different approach. It isn’t working for her and it’s not fair on any of us.” You nodded immediately, mind already reeling with idea after idea to make it an easier transition for everyone. Ultimately though, after the night that’d already been had, now wasn’t the time.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow. We’re all exhausted.” Alexia hummed her agreement with a yawn for good measure. 

After a few more minutes of cuddles with your family, you cautiously put Anaís down into the cot next to your side of the bed. Having already done your own night routine long before the events that had occurred, you climbed into bed and lay on your side facing your daughter, like you did nearly every night. Alexia did a quick check around the house, locking the doors and grabbing anything the three of you might need overnight as she always did, before sliding under the duvet behind you. Her lips found your shoulder, followed by her arms wrapping around you and hugging you tight back to her. 

“I love you. Always.” She murmured against your skin, nuzzling her face into the back of your neck.

“I love you too, Ale.” You said back easily, because it was easy to say those words to her, no matter what had happened. Some truths were simple. 

The next day, you found a new system for Anaís bedtime. One that was extraordinarily better for all of you, and worked almost seamlessly. Some nights were a bit harder than others, and she did end up in your room every so often, but it wasn’t long before she was sleeping in her rooms every night and only waking up a couple times. And when it was time for your second child, your son Oriol, to adapt to his room, the two of you had it down perfectly. That blip with Anaís was merely a distant memory.

—

“Anaís, no, you can’t throw your food at me!” Alexia sighed exasperatedly, bending down for the hundredth time to pick up her daughter’s dinner that was more on the floor than her plate. 

Days where you were out working and Alexia was left alone with Anaís were days she treasured. Except, when the two year old seemingly decided that she didn’t feel like treasuring them and instead didn’t want anything to do with her Mami, things weren’t so fun. 

The morning had been bliss, with the three of you spending it lazily in bed until 10am where you finally had to get up and get ready to leave, which was when everything fell apart. The second the door closed behind you, the what should be quiet house was then filled with the sharpest cries one could imagine. It took twenty minutes and too many persuasion tactics from Alexia to get her to calm down, which included a small bowl of chocolate buttons in front of the TV, something so out of the norm for a morning with Anaís. She screamed and screamed anytime the brunette tried to change her into clothes other than her pajamas, and the same went for when she tried to put some shoes on her. So that threw the day’s plans out the window, substituted for a day at home instead, where Alexia had no idea what to do with both Anaís and herself.

Alarm bells were already ringing loudly in her mind at the out-of-character behaviour from her daughter, but no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get to the bottom of it. The toddler didn’t seem ill, she wasn’t showing any signs of injuries that Alexia could see, she’d had a great night's sleep the night before, and nothing else was out of the norm. She wasn’t the type to behave badly on purpose, or at least hadn’t until that point, and Alexia didn’t believe that was what the case was. The midfielder was left completely dumbfounded. 

And it remained that way for the whole time you were gone. In fact, things got worse. Hardly half an hour went by without tears from Anaís and concern that was unknowingly turning into frustration for Alexia. All sorts of things started running through her mind, thoughts she hadn’t had in a long time, not since her daughter was a tiny sub-10-pound baby whose fist fit around her pinky. With each show of defiance, of utter distaste for her Mami, and every scrike that shook the walls of your home, the doubts began to creep in for Alexia. They snuck in quietly, disguised by the sounds coming from Anaís, nestling deep in the back of her head and growing nearly every second. 

When dinner time came, of which even just getting Anaís into her chair was a struggle, her confidence as a parent was in tatters. It’d been thoroughly wrecked, she didn’t even know how the pair of them had survived the day. But the worst was yet to come.

No less than five minutes in and almost her entire dinner was scattered across the tiled floor of the kitchen. What hadn’t made it to the ground had gathered on Alexia’s shirt. The tears came back in full force for the younger girl, and the excruciating pain it was to listen to it nearly evoked the same reaction from the footballer. Never had she felt so lost, so not worthy of being a parent. She didn’t feel at all good enough for her daughter, something she always worried she’d feel but never actually believed it was a point she’d reach. Well, she had, and it seemed like a pit she’d spiralled into that she would never get out of again.

You came home at precisely the right time to save the situation from becoming any worse. You closed the door behind you and went to call out to your family, just to hear what could only be described as terror. Anaís’ shouting voice echoed from the kitchen to the hall by the front door, paired with Alexia’s panicked ramble as she tried to extinguish the situation. At that, you rushed to put your things down so you could go in and see what seemed to be going so wrong.

“-please! Anaís, we’re okay, it’s okay! Mi amor, I don’t know what to do for you, wha-”

“Ale? What’s going on?” 

When you walked in, Alexia looked like she could have cried from relief. Anaís calmed instantly, like the day hadn’t even happened. Her arms reached out for you whilst Alexia slumped back in her chair, slamming an empty plastic bowl that once had fruit in it onto the table, and putting her head in her hands. 

“Of course she fucking settles with you.” 

Whereas such a phrase may have sounded venomous to anyone else, to you, the person that had spoken to her every single day since you met her all those years ago, you knew the sentence was coated in frustration which was aimed entirely at herself. And the accompanying sniffle she tried to disguise after it too told you everything. When she got angry, especially at herself, she got tearful. Because she wasn’t an angry person; she was afraid of disappointing others. Which, in turn, filled her with fury that burned her from the inside out. Barely two seconds in the room with her and you knew it must’ve been a terrible day for the both of them, and that Alexia was wracked with a devastating amount of self-loathing.

“Okay, okay. She didn’t eat much dinner, I’m assuming?” You checked gently, being met with a scoff and a shake of her head where it was still in her hands, hiding the turmoil that’d be visible on her face with the tears that no doubt streamed. “That’s fine, we can deal with it. Could you go run her a bath for me? Take a moment away from all this and run her a bath so I can try and get her to eat something before bedtime?”

The two year old, with wispy strands of her brown hair sticking to her cheek from a combo of sweat and tears, rested her head against your shoulder and tucked her face into your neck. She seemed tired, exhausted even, something that didn’t exactly come as a surprise given what had apparently transpired during the day. However, you weren’t certain that she was properly feeling like herself, something told you she wasn’t doing too well. 

Per your request, Alexia left the room as soon as you spoke, head bowed as she left which was just another example of the mental state she was in. It concerned you, both of them concerned you, and it took everything within you to keep a frown off your face at the ache you felt in your chest as a result of the situation you were faced with. Almost all your questions were solved when you grabbed the thermometer from the first aid box in one of the kitchen cupboards and found that Anaís had a temperature. 

You rushed to fix her a bowl of cereal, all care for what she ate out the window, so that you could give her some medicine as soon as possible. She ate some of it, albeit reluctantly with a bit of defiance, but enough that satisfied you for the night. Leaving the mess for later, you cuddled your daughter close to you as you headed upstairs to where Alexia had a bath ready and waiting. The brunette sat on the edge of it, hand dipped into the water to check it was just right, before she turned the taps off and dried her fingertips on her shirt.

“Ready?” You hummed quietly, her jumping a little and standing abruptly, turning around to face you. 

Her face was red, much alike Anaís’, and it seemed her emotions were still overwhelming her. She gave a quick nod, before mumbling something about going downstairs to clean up and going to rush past you. You, on the other hand, were having none of it.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” You reached a hand out to carefully grab her wrist, Alexia not putting up a fight as you did so and stopping in her step. You turned her to face you, but she didn’t look at you. So you dropped her hand and raised your own to her cheek, a tender touch that had her inhaling sharply at the softness of it. “She’s okay, she’s eaten now and she’s calm, she had a temperature so I ga-”

“She had a temperature? But I checked twice today?” Alexia cut you off in alarm. Immediately, she put the back of her hand on Anaís’ back under her shirt to find her skin was running hot. “I checked twice, this morning and only a couple hours ago, it was normal, I sw-”

“I know, I know. It must have only come on in the last hour or so, but she was probably feeling unwell all throughout the day. She’s had some medicine, she’ll start feeling better any time now. Don’t worry about it, Ale. Everything is alright. I’m gonna bath her and put her to bed, I’ll come find you after and we can talk, okay?” It seemed the midfielder forewent a reply because she wasn’t sure if it were words or sobs that would come out, so she nodded once more, avoiding your gaze. You leaned up and kissed her forehead, smiling sadly at the tears drowning her eyes. “I love you. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

Later on, with Anaís fast asleep tucked up in bed, it taking no time at all for her to doze off, you came downstairs to total silence. The kitchen and lounge, which were both once a mess, were spotless. The horrors of the day had been erased, and Alexia was nowhere to be found. 

Through the window, you could see evening turn to dusk with the sky painted a deep orange that faded into light blue. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, only a small crescent moon and trails from planes that’d flown overhead. And there, staring at the view of the city from the backyard of your home, was the one person you were looking for. 

Alexia was sat on the edge of the stone wall where patio stones turned to grass, leaning back on her hands that rested on the bricks, shoulders shuddering infrequently with her sporadic breaths. Without being clued up yet on exactly what had occurred whilst you were away, you knew it’d been a bad day for her as a parent. You felt for her, heart a little broken at the psychologically wrecked version of her you’d come home to. You’d been in her place a number of times, and she never failed at making you feel invincible with her love and care afterwards, no matter how far you’d spiralled down. Tonight, she needed you.

The defeated brunette definitely would have heard you open and close the door, as well as your footsteps, though she gave no reaction to either. You wandered over, rounding the wall and sitting beside her. You looked at her, really looked at her, but she kept her eyes averted, glancing at everything apart from you. Her knee was bouncing, her posture was tense, and there was still a steady stream of tears down her cheeks that she ignored. You didn’t want to overwhelm her, or worsen her mood, so all you did then was rest a hand on her thigh, and give her some time to decompress a little. Or, so you thought.

“I don’t know what went so wrong today. I don’t know what I did.” She started to ramble quickly, sniffling and stumbling over her words with her shoulders up to her ears in a shrug as she tried to defend herself to you. But she didn’t need to defend herself, you didn’t blame her for a thing. “I-I got the thermometer out and checked her twice, it was normal, it was fine. I didn’t recognise she was… she was ill. She was sick all day because of… because of m-me.” 

As she spoke, it sounded like she was about to break. It’d been so long since you’d heard her like that.

“Ale, she’s fine. She won’t even remember today when she wakes up in the morning, tomorrow is a new day and-”

“Do you think I’m a bad parent?” The question she cut you off shocked you, and it took a second for it to register before you frowned at her and squeezed her knee.

“Alexia, of course I d-” She stood abruptly, shaking her head incessantly. 

“No, because I missed so many signs today, it’s my fault she had such a bad day. I messed up so much I just didn’t get anything right, I would understand if y-”

You got up and stood in front of her, hands on her face to stop her panicking and to ground her. Still, she refused to meet your eye, but you gave her a soft yet firm look.

“I don’t, Alexia, I never could.” 

She nodded in response before she properly processed your words, and when the realisation did settle in, that’s when she cracked. Her forehead fell to your shoulder and her hands linked loosely around your waist, leaning into you as sobs ripped out from her. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, turning your head a little to leave a few kisses on her cheek every now and then as she cried, a reminder you were there for her. One of your hands rubbed up and down her back comfortingly as she let out all the pent up emotions into your shoulder. You didn’t move. You stayed right there for her.

“Anaís is okay, you’re okay. Everything is okay, Alexia, I promise. It’s just a bad day.” You whispered as she began to calm, hand still moving up and down, just slower but still reassuring. “She’ll go to Eli’s like normal if she’s well enough tomorrow, and she’ll have the best day there because you know she’ll get treated like a princess. You didn’t miss anything because there were no signs to miss, you said it yourself. You checked, twice, like any good and loving parent would, and nothing concerning came up. That’s not your fault.”

There was a minute nod against you, and you’d take that for now. You turned again to kiss her cheek, lingering for longer and hugging her impossibly tighter after. A minute or so later, she leaned back in your hold but you didn’t let go for a second, and she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of the jumper she’d changed into at some point whilst you dealt with Anaís. Then, finally, she met your gaze, defeat and exhaustion along with some taunting guilt that still hovered around, all present in her red, puffy eyes. 

“Is she upset or, maybe, angry? At me?” She asked cautiously, to which you smiled and shook your head with a click of your tongue.

“She’s your daughter, she doesn’t get angry at the people she loves. Especially not her Mami.” You answered with ease, with certainty. Even though you hadn’t outright asked Anaís how she felt about the day, you knew one thing and that was she didn’t feel any of those things towards Alexia. Never could.

“She was earlier. For most of the day.” Alexia feebly argued.

“No, she’s ill, and as a small toddler in such a big, scary world, she doesn’t know what to do when she feels like that.” You reassured her, reaching a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her bun back behind her ear. “Don’t blame yourself anymore, please. Because Anaís and I don’t, nobody does. Tell that huge brain of yours to shut up for once.” 

She let out a quiet chuckle, and though you’d heard that sound a thousand times before, it was music to your ears then, no less than it was the first time you heard it. Walking to your table on your first date, Alexia close behind you with her hand on your back, you making a stupid comment about how overly hard the waiter was trying to impress your date, clearly having recognised her, and her softly chuckling down your ear. You shivered then at the sound, and you shivered there, in the backyard of your shared home, your daughter asleep inside and attempts for a second child actively in progress. But the shiver this time was, rather unfortunately and not so romantically, due to the chill of the evening as the sun bid its goodbye with the horizon.

“I make no promises.” Alexia murmured, resting her forehead against yours and letting her eyes fall shut. 

You smiled, noticing the difference in her already compared to when you first stepped outside, and tilted your head a bit to leave a kiss to her lips. It caught her by surprise, and she opened her eyes again to find you, the love of her life, gazing at her with all the love you had to give and more, not a single part of you believing the doubts that weighed her down. It helped her to remember what she did everything for and why; for her family. Always. You, Anaís, and any future children if the pair of you were to be so lucky. A bad day was a drop in the ocean, it was an ounce of misfortune compared to the pricelessness of your lives. It would stick in her mind for a little while, but how could she focus on that when she lived a dream everyday. 

—

Your fortune only grew when you fell pregnant with your third child after months of failed IVF attempts – a son, named Oriol, who was the mirror of his older sister, something that only became more and more true as he grew up. Anaís flourished in her role, absolutely infatuated with her baby brother and desperate to do anything to help her parents whenever she could. For some time, the four of you lived in a perfect little bubble of pure bliss. All the talk about how difficult it was going from one child to two seemed far away, everyday was… perfect. 

You were never much of a morning person before becoming a parent, but having two children didn’t really leave you much of a choice but to become one. Alexia had been, and she often took those early sunrise shifts because she treasured them. When Anaís was a baby that didn’t have the boundless energy of a toddler, she was always more than happy to sit in her Mami’s arms as she woke up. On warmer mornings, they’d spend the time outside, until winter settled in and made that prospect daunting, Alexia fearing her daughter’s fingers and toes might drop off in only a few minutes of being out in the cold. 

Then Oriol came along, and mornings turned into a bit of a handful for one parent to handle. Especially because Anaís did possess an unreal amount of giddiness that was difficult to juggle with a grouchy newborn. So the pair of you found a system, a routine that quickly became something that you treasured.

Most days it was a toss up between which child would wake up first, but they usually stirred at the same time, a blessing in disguise most days. On some occasions, you’d get up and go for a walk, or out for breakfast, or to a family member’s house. But other times, of which were your favourite, you’d have breakfast in bed together, a lazy start to the day. They were a rarity more than others, with Alexia in and out of the city and the country, so you never took them for granted.

Perfect, until you went back to work, many months down the line, just as the intensity of Alexia’s football season picked up, and suddenly everything you thought you knew just… disappeared. Sure, she’d stepped away from the national team when Anaís was around a year old, but that never lightened the load of club football, which still caught you off guard every year, especially your first as a parent of two. Going from seeing Alexia nearly everyday, spending hours with her, to barely having her in one place for too long as you juggled work was more difficult than you expected. 

Even on the days she was in Barcelona, there was training and media commitments and sponsorship shoots and meetings that kept her away. You saw her at breakfast, where she rushed out with nothing but a banana and a protein shake, not before kissing your cheek and your children’s, and you saw her when she got home late in the evening, helping with bedtime before falling into bed with you and dozing off almost immediately. 

Before you could realise, you felt a distance growing between you. You felt disconnected from her world when normally your worlds were one and the same. She was still the perfect parent you knew her as, but that’s all she had time and energy for. The strain was becoming too much for the both of you, with two kids and workloads that had no limits. For some time, you didn’t know how to solve it. And that scared the life out of you.

Each morning you dropped off your children at Eli’s house, which was only three days a week as the rest you worked when you had the chance to at home, she could see the stress everything was causing you grow more every time you visited her. On the rare occasion she saw her daughter, she saw the same burden on her shoulders too. The wiser woman couldn’t let it go on any longer; one morning, she ordered that you came in and sat down with her for coffee. She was a persuasive woman, even as you argued about being late for work, she waved you off and gently took hold of your hand to lead you inside. With Oriol in one arm, resting on her hip, she moved around her kitchen with an effortlessness you dreamed of having. 

Everything took so much energy, so much mental strength, a piece of your resolve was chipped away everyday. It seemed things had gotten too much, your resolve becoming too weak, because when Eli set down your coffee in front of you, you were already in bits. All it took was the hug she gave for you to fall apart into her arms. 

After that, you took the day off work. You sat and listened, your son offering you a slice of normality, of comfort, as he slept in your arms whilst Eli gave every bit of advice she had to give. If it wasn’t for her, you dreaded to think of how far things might have gone before either you or Alexia fell apart, and if that might have manifested as a breakdown or a show of anger that could have done irreparable damage. But as you listened to her mother, you knew where Alexia got her parenting skills from, where she got her fierce care and compassion from. You were incredibly grateful for the both of them.

Eli demanded that, when Alexia got home from her game later that evening, you were to sit down and speak with her. You tried to argue that the brunette would be tired and a conversation like that was the last thing she would want to do, but you lost that fight. The older woman had you under strict instruction to get her to do it anyway, and if she didn’t, she had Eli’s wrath to deal with the next day.

Your children’s most beloved grandparent wasn’t the only saving grace of that particularly difficult period of time; the aforementioned game Alexia had that same night ended in a loss. And the effect it had on her was the final straw for her. Even without the push from her mother, the second she walked in to find you waiting at the door for her, she made it known that she couldn’t go on any longer the way you two were. She made it known by collapsing into your arms with ease, and it felt like decades since you last hugged her, properly. 

That night, you spent hours on the sofa, limbs entangled and tears soaking each other’s t-shirts, talking about how difficult things had been and how you could get past them. It wasn’t easy, it couldn’t be further from that description. There were things Alexia said that made you want to scream, shout, cry, argue about, and vice versa. Yet, you worked past it. By the time morning came, you were both fast asleep on the couch still, as close as you could where you held each other, not even stirring at the return of your children after their impromptu night at their abuela’s house, until Anaís snatched a crayon away from Oriol’s teething mouth which resulted in him letting out a piercing cry, abruptly waking the both of you.

This blip, as difficult and unbearable as it was at the time, was necessary for your relationship. It taught you things about each other that set you up for the rest of your lives together. 

An unspoken acknowledgement formed that presented itself when brief periods of busyness happened again; you learned to love each other quietly in those moments, ready to love loudly again when the storm passed. Your devotion to one another could be found in the quiet moments, like shared glances across the dinner table over breakfast and lingering touches as you passed each other whilst getting your children ready for the day. It could be found in notes slipped into the other’s coat pocket, coming home with flowers after a trip to the supermarket, guilty pleasure treats hidden in the cupboard away from the sweet tooth habits of your children that they’d definitely picked up from their Mami. 

There was an underlying agreement that whenever there was a hard moment, a disagreement, frustration at each other or the defiant behaviours from Anaís and Oriol, that you can still go to each other no matter what. Even if things went too far, you’d still end the night in each other’s arms, whether you were on speaking terms, one giving the other the silent treatment, or simply too tired to talk. And that might be the thing you treasure most about your relationship.

All these things were evident in the next large obstacle that fell before you both. 

Oriol was not quite the social butterfly as his sister had always naturally been. Nursery, to him, was torture. Being away from his family, with people he didn’t know? It was the scariest thing he’d ever had to face in the nearly three years of his life. 

The first day that you and Alexia dropped him off there, only for an hour to get him adjusted, it couldn’t have gone any worse. The ordeal left you both in tears as Alexia drove you home silently. The brunette had to stand beside you and watch as they pulled your son out of your arms, him clinging onto you desperately as the most heartbreaking sobs you’d heard in your life ripped through him. And that had been after the two of you spent half an hour showing him around and playing with him, as well as trying to leave quietly before his cries brought you running right back. 

Every part of you screamed to take him home, to never step foot near a nursery again, because you couldn’t cope with the fear and anxiety he was feeling. It hurt, physically hurt. Your heart clenched so tightly each time, you swore if his scrikes were a decibel higher, you’d go into cardiac arrest. But that wasn’t realistic, he had to go at some point and taking him home to stop that would only delay the inevitable. You just didn’t know it would be so hard.

Anaís wasn’t at all like that; the second she step foot in the small classroom, saw all the toys she could play with, saw the mud kitchen and the sand pit and the water pit, all the bikes and scooters she could ride out on the playground, it was more of a challenge to get her to leave than stay. Oriol though, he despised it.

Three days in a row, you arrived back at home with a lump in your throat and remnants of your son’s pain on you in the form of the tear drops that dotted your jumper, and you couldn’t take it. Alexia closed the door behind you both, and you immediately broke down crying at the thought of him back there, all alone, wondering why his parents had taken him to such a terrible place and left him there.

“We, we can’t take him there anymore, Ale, h-he hates it so much.” You sobbed, eyes closed as you pictured his little face, his eyes filled with betrayal, and his wobbling bottom lip when he realised you were just going to walk out on him again.

“We have to, amor, you know this.” Alexia sighed sadly, not frustrated with you, instead equally as torn up about it. 

“Alexia, he hates it! We’re his parents, we’re not meant to do this to him, we can’t keep putting him through this!” 

With a frown on her face as she tried to suppress her own emotions, she headed over to you and hugged you, holding you close to her.

“Shh.” She shushed you gently, but it had the opposite effect. You pushed away from her, the brunette stumbling backwards slightly and having to catch herself with a hand on the drawers behind. 

“No, why are you okay with this? You’re not letting anything on, why aren’t you as affected as I am?” You accused, and she had to take a breath to keep a cool head. 

This wasn’t you talking, it was your concern. It was a momentary blip that happened to the both of you every now and then. She recognised it instantly, two kids did that to her.

“We’re not fighting about this, mi amor. I’m not fighting you.” Alexia told you in a soft, calming tone. You raked your hand through your hair and huffed, not even sure why you were starting on her like that. Of course she felt just as guilty and afraid as you. “We have to do this now, at some point, otherwise we will never get him into school anyway. He will get used to it, I know he will. But it’s hard now, it’s so hard.” 

“So hard.” You whimpered, putting your head in your hands as your cries picked up again. Alexia stepped closer, her arms around you again as you buried your face into her chest.

“We’ll get him through it. I know we will. He’ll love it before you know it.” She whispered, her comforting words beginning to crack through the walls of panic that surrounded your mind, even if she didn’t know if what she was saying would become true.

The thing was, it only got tougher. Everyday he spent longer there, until you dropped him off as he sobbed for you and there wasn’t anything you could do but leave him there until mid-afternoon to pick him up. It was a wonder you got any work done during that time because all you could see was the heartbreak on his face every time you walked out of his classroom. And there were numerous occasions after that one day with Alexia where the two of you clashed over it, some worse than others. Her lack of expression about the situation grated on you, as if she didn’t care, until you stepped back and gained rationality and realised she was just trying to be strong for you.

But then, your son surprised you. One of the best surprises, one of the most relieving.

After another difficult day of dealing with his meltdowns before nursery and being extremely distracted at work, you decided to walk to pick him up. Alexia’s training had run late, something she was frustrated and a little upset with (not that she’d admit that to you) because it put her head at peace to have her son back in her sight, her arms, after seeing him so worked up in the morning. She really kept quiet about it, she let the guilt eat away at her silently rather than adding to the things you were feeling. When she was at home, she occupied herself with the most unnecessary things, because it distracted her from how the silence of the house exaggerated the cries that echoed around her mind whilst Oriol was away. Picking him up from nursery and seeing the way he ran towards you both was the only thing that made it feel worth it.

You had all the faith in the world in your son, like any parent should towards their child. Maybe it was wrong to feel so shocked, but that was the last thing on your mind when you arrived at his classroom door, saw the way he grinned from ear to ear as he played with two other boys, and laughed heartily at something one of them did. You’d seen him playing other times, though he didn’t seem so bright and happy like he did then. It brought tears to your eyes, for all the right reasons this time.

“He has had a much better day today. He is adjusting now.” One of his teachers told you when she came over, a warm smile on her face. “I know it has been hard for you and your partner seeing him struggle every morning, but today we have noticed a big difference. I think he’s happy.”

When she saw your reaction of tears of euphoria, she brought you in for a brief, comforting hug. It set in then, that as horribly difficult and unbearable as it had been, it was worth it. You did the right thing. All you could wish for in that moment was to have Alexia there with you.

Your next best bet was meeting her at training. It wasn’t too far from the nursery, and with Oriol being in such an upbeat mood, you decided you would walk there with him. Because you have to take care of the person you love just as much as your children. And it felt like, with Oriol finally happy with the day he’d had, you could turn your attention to Alexia, and pour all the love back into your relationship which had been a little neglected during that time.

You would have done anything to make the experience better for your young son from the get-go, but all the trials and tribulations just made it sweeter. The whole walk, he rambled endlessly about what he did that day. He remembered every single detail about the friends he had made, what games they played, the size of the train line they’d built around the whole classroom; you hadn’t ever seen such elation on his face as he relayed it all to you. Then he said–

“I can’t wait to go back tomorrow.” 

Each time he came home, the first thing he talked about was how much he didn’t want to go back the next day. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you didn’t break down crying on the spot. But with his tiny dinosaur bag hanging off one of your shoulders, his hand in yours, and tears burning your eyes, you couldn’t recall a better feeling whilst being his parent. All you could do was march down the streets of your newfound home and think of what the love of your life’s reaction would be.

It wasn’t just her though, it was all her teammates too, who filed into the locker room each with equally wide smiles at the surprise of seeing you both there. Oriol went a little shy in your arms, as you would expect, but he relished in the proud reactions each person gave when you told them about the successful day he’d had. Irene especially, who could have passed as Oriol’s third parent when she looked as if she could cry from pride at the news. Alexia, of course, was the last one in. 

The others left after changing, heading home after quick showers, all whilst Alexia lingered outside with a few members of staff, talking away like she always did about football. Thankfully though, to put you out of your misery, one of them that stayed behind with you shouted her in under the guise of physio, even though she was apparently perfectly fine. You could hear her grumbling about it as she came closer, making you laugh, as you sat at her cubby whilst your son wandered around the room, babbling to himself and messing with things he probably shouldn’t. 

Then she walked in, head still down, not noticing you both until Oriol’s squeal had her eyes snapping up.

“Wha–? What are you doing here?” The brunette broke out into one of the happiest, all-consuming smiles you’d ever seen her do, crouching down to her son’s height as he ran over as fast as he could waddle. She laughed giddily as he wrapped his little arms around her neck, lifting him up and hugging him tightly. 

“Oriol, why don’t you tell Mami about your day?” You prompted him, watching his face light up even more as he leaned back in Alexia’s hold so he could see her. 

“I loved it!” He beamed, a bright grin on his lips, one you hadn’t seen in so long. 

Alexia turned to you briefly as he started rambling, speaking a whole load of nothing initially as he couldn’t contain himself with his babbling. Her expression was one of astonishment, but also the most relief you had ever seen a human possess. There was a gloss to her eye that shone brightly in the fluorescent light of the locker room, one she tried to blink away when she turned back to her son.

He went on and on, just like he did to you, stuttering due to his mind working faster than his mouth, and diving in and out of a hundred stories at once. As he did so, Alexia had one hand splayed out across his back, rubbing up and down or in circles whilst holding him up with her other arm. Her eyes were wide as she listened to each and every detail he revealed, so much giddiness radiating off of him, it was hard to keep up.

“And-and then, then we played in the water and I g-got water on my jumper, but it was okay, ‘cause the teacher made it not wet again, that was good ‘cause I got cold, and then Pau finded more train pieces, so we made it more long, and-”

“Breathe, mister.” Alexia laughed, brushing back his wispy brown hair and stroking his cheek with her thumb as he inhaled dramatically. “Sounds like the best day!”

“I can’t wait to go back tomorrow!” He kicked his legs as he spoke, almost hitting Alexia in the stomach, but that was the last thing on her mind. All she could focus on were the words you got stuck on earlier too.

“You want to go back?” She asked softly, eyes darting all over his face to find a hint of the dread he had been weighed down by since starting nursery.

“Sí! Ahora!” He answered without a millisecond of hesitation, before descending into unorganised chatter.

“I am so proud of you.” She interrupted him a moment later, scattering kisses all over his face that had him squealing and pushing her away with his small hands. “I love you.”

“I love you too!” Oriol shrieked when more were pressed against his cheek. “Mama said I can have churros for dinner.” 

“Really?” Alexia raised an eyebrow as she looked at you, waving you over. When you were close enough, she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek, this time a lot more civilly. “Well, I can’t disagree with that. I think you deserve all the churros we can find in Barcelona.”

The three of you laughed together, for the first time in a while, not burdened by the thought of tomorrow. No, instead, he couldn’t wait for it. Perhaps more excited for it then his churros, and that was no easy feat. What more could you ask for, other than the unbridled joy of your child, even if that was with chocolate spilled onto any surface and material he could find?

And just like any other time that felt uncertain, difficult, borderline end of the world, Alexia was there with you through it all. Steady. Calm when you weren’t. Ready to celebrate you when you needed it most. The best part was, you could tell she thought the same about you. That was a compliment you couldn’t get over. Even being a parent, having two lives depend on you, knowing that you were the person that the one you loved most went to for everything and anything, it was still something you wore like a medal. You loved being her person, loved building a life with her. Loved everything to do with her, even all the parts of her that aggravated to your wits end. You couldn’t get enough of her. 

—

Fights were inevitable. In any and all relationships, they were an impossible thing to avoid. It was rare, so rare, for you and Alexia to have ones that lasted longer than even a few hours. Yet, as was reality, there were one or two that snuck in which uprooted everything, and it was an even tougher mountain to get over when kids were involved.

With their tiny, developing, and unsuspecting brains, it often went under the radar the utter scale of things they picked up on. And you weren’t sure what was in Alexia’s eggs, but your two children ended up growing into the most emotionally mature seven year old and three year old the world had ever seen. No amount of hushed whispers and avoided eye contact could get past them; as a result of the two of you being so openly happy and in love, the second something was amiss, they could just sense it in the air somehow. It blew your mind, plain and simple. So no matter how hard you tried to keep your arguments separate from their little worlds, they always knew anyway. 

You and Alexia had your own stresses you were dealing with, you with your job and Alexia with hers, with the addition of bad news from family that weighed down on the both of you. Those things, as much as you tried to keep them on the down-low and deal with them individually, they soon became too heavy for the burdens to not be shared. But neither of you recognised that. They built and built and built, until everything came crashing down around you. 

First, it started with furrowed eyebrows and heavy sighs from Alexia as she moved around the kitchen like everything in her way was merely an inconvenience. Not you, not her children, rather the mess that had been left behind as you attempted to keep two hyperactive kids on their school breaks entertained for the fourth day they had off, which was a challenge and a half. You hadn’t had time to clean up after them as they went through the house like a tornado or a bull in a fine China shop, hoping they could keep their giddiness contained enough so that you didn’t spend your evening in the emergency waiting room at the nearby hospital. 

Whether Alexia was directing her passive aggressive frustration at you or not, you took it that way regardless. She wasn’t the one that’d had to spend the day chasing after Anaís and Oriol, she’d had a fairly inconspicuous schedule of training and some media interviews and shoots. What you didn’t know, however, was the onslaught of questions she had received about her form which had taken a slight dip in the past few games, as well as the carefully worded questions about Barcelona’s future and her future too, a topic journalists ran with the second she didn’t do well in a game. She loathed the doubts of her ability just because she was a mother and older than her peers, she knew she was still capable, and perfection was expected of her when perfection wasn’t possible for anyone.

Looking back, you knew it was immature, but you made a stupid passing comment anyway about her behaviour since she’d come home. The carelessness in the way she kicked her shoes off at the door and haphazardly left her bag beside it, the theatrics as she cleaned the kitchen, and the aversion she had to even looking at you. One sentence from you was all it took for the house to burst into flames. And with your children outside in the garden doing whatever they were doing, neither of you had no qualms raising your voices at each other.

In only a matter of minutes, there were tears streaking down your face and Alexia’s too. You took yourself away from the situation, unable to bear the venomous way the one surefire person on your team was talking to you, slamming the bedroom door shut behind you for good measure. Alexia, on the other hand, gripped the edge of the counter and bowed her head, teardrops falling onto the granite as she squeezed her eyes shut to try, and fail, at keeping them in. 

Meanwhile, outside, Anaís and Oriol found themselves rooted to the spot for the whole duration of the short fight they heard indoors. They couldn’t make out the words, slightly intelligible as they were muffled by the closed doors and windows of the house, but the damage was already done. Oriol turned to Anaís with a wobbling lower lip first, his little heart beating rapidly at the scary situation he was now presented with. Anaís noticed, and shook the fear off her shoulders before hastily walking over to him. With a determined face, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl much alike her mother during the most intense game of her life, she planted her hands on her brother’s shoulders and, before speaking her plan, quickly kissed his forehead which calmed his anxiety just a little.

“I go check on Mama, you go see Mami. Vale?” She addressed him calmly, yet like she knew exactly what she was doing, which reassured him. Oriol thought of his big sister as someone he looked up to, he wanted to be her, he admired her. So he stood taller, puffed his chest out, took a deep breath, and nodded like he’d been handed a military mission that was due to save the world. Still, Anaís could spot the worry in his eyes. “It will be okay, Oriol. Promise!”

She removed one of her hands and held out her pinky for him. Without a shred of hesitation, he linked his own with hers and they both kissed their knuckles, just like they’d seen their Mami do with her goalkeeper teammate. Then, they marched inside, Anaís leading Oriol of course, making their way to their designated locations. Just before the door into the kitchen, the brunette girl turned back to her younger brother and gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back, not quite as sure as hers, but confident enough that she kissed his forehead again before turning and running up the stairs. 

Oriol then turned to face the open doorway where he could see his Mami, his strong and dependent and steady parent, stood with her shoulders shaking as she cried silently. He found himself frowning, his bottom lip threatening to quiver again, before he remembered the task at hand and marched forwards towards her with a confidence he didn’t have.

“Mami?” He said gently, flinching a little at the speed Alexia whipped around to look at him whilst wiping her tears. It was futile to do so, with her already puffy eyes and red cheeks as more fell immediately. 

“Hola, mi príncipe.” The midfielder replied, voice cracking as she choked down her sobs at the flurry of emotions drowning her in that moment.

“Qué pasa?” He asked, stepping closer to her and reaching out his hand for her to take. She did, squeezing his and finding comfort in the soft weight of it in her hold. 

“Nothing.” Her natural reaction was to shrug it off, but it wasn’t right. One look at his face, the depth of his concern far too deep for a boy his age, told her she should be as honest as she could whilst still protecting him.  That was her job after all. “I am a little sad, Oriol. I’m sad because your Mama is sad too. We said some silly things to each other. But it is okay, we are allowed to be sad. I… I…” 

Her emotions got the better of her again, tears dripping off her cheeks and dampening her t-shirt as her son stood and watched. He fumbled internally for a moment, growing upset at the sight of his normally strong and steady Mami, and thinking hard on what she normally does when he cried. 

She hugged him, until he stopped, and long after that. So that’s what he did.

He stepped forward, slipped his hand out of hers, and wrapped his arms around her thigh. She wiped her eyes so she could see clearly and looked down, seeing the curiosity on his face of if he’d done the right thing or not. God, if he only knew. 

Alexia leaned down, hooking her hands under his arms, gently pulled him away, before sliding down to sit back against the cabinet and bringing him back into her. She crossed her legs and placed Oriol in the gap left, before wrapping her arms around him this time, hugging him as tight as she could without hurting him or scaring him off. He hugged her back, a proud smile on his face that he’d got it right. 

What was occurring upstairs, however, was a different story. 

Anaís crept in with the subtlety of a marching band, trying to read the room before she went ahead with Plan A, and if necessary, she would switch to a gentler approach of Plan B. She found you lay in bed, crying, but trying to hide your face from your daughter due to the avalanche of emotions you were experiencing. However, when you factored in who she got her genes from, you should have known better. 

“Excuse me.” The younger girl started, standing beside your bed with her hands on her hip and a look on her face that was all too familiar to one the person that caused this would make. It made you laugh, quietly, but also cry a bit more. So Anaís softened, moving to sit on the side of the bed and taking hold of your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” You sniffled, an ever so dramatic statement. Anaís looked at you skeptically, like she didn’t quite trust you. “Mami said some mean things to me.”

Her face changed then, an obvious one that not even the most oblivious person could miss. 

“Did you say some mean things to Mami too?” 

Your silence, paired with the sheepish look on your face at being caught out by a seven year old was more than enough for her.

“That’s not fair, Mama! God, you are both so stupid.” She groaned, slapping a hand over her eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume she was seventeen.

“Excuse me!” You scolded lightly, with no real threat behind it. 

Anaís sighed disapprovingly, a shake of her head to tie off the performance, before laying down next to you. She copied your position, pausing for a moment as she thought of what to do with herself, before laying an arm across your waist like she had seen Alexia do sometimes. You smiled at her, and copied her, which she then replied with an expression that mirrored yours.

“You shouldn’t argue with Mami. It makes you both sad.” Anaís commented, one of those things that a kid says that pulls at every heart string you have. 

“I know. But it happens sometimes, it shouldn’t, but it does. Adults argue over big things, like you and Oriol argue over who gets a piggyback first.” Strangely, her eyes lit up at that.

“You were arguing about piggybacks?!” She exclaimed like it was the most exciting prospect in the world. You laughed loudly, one that cleared the fog a bit and brightened your mood.

“No, god no. Something a bit more adult than piggybacks unfortunately. Really boring, nowhere near as exciting.”

“Well, if it was boring, then why did you argue? If you’re going to argue, it should be over something interesting at least. Like piggybacks.” You smiled in amusement, leaning forward to kiss your daughter’s forehead. Your children had a marvellous habit at making you indescribably happy at any given moment. 

“You make a good point, Anaís. Very good.” 

“Exactly. So why would you be mean! You love each other!” She fought her point again. If only things were so simple. But then again, maybe they are, when you look at it from a different perspective. 

Was there any real reason for you and Alexia to argue then like you did? You could hardly even remember how it started beyond a few passive aggressive sighs and slams of cupboards and an unnecessary jab. And those were really ridiculous reasons to start a fight. So maybe it was that simple.

“If I bring Mami upstairs, will you say sorry to each other?” Anaís wondered. It was then that you realised, beyond her joking nature, this whole thing had gotten to her quite a bit. Her and Oriol hadn’t ever really witnessed such a big blow-up like this before. You felt guilty for it, immeasurably so. 

“Only if she says sorry to me first.” You joked, holding back a laugh when Anaís rolled her eyes again. “Fine. Go get her.”

It wasn’t your kids’ job to be the emotionally wise ones of the house. It certainly wasn’t their job to fix adult arguments. That was supposed to be your responsibility, as well as Alexia’s, and you had failed. You were just glad your children had the maturity you momentarily lacked to provide some much needed clarity (and humour) to a situation that could have ended up worse.

“Mami, go upstairs. Now.” Anaís demanded as she stepped into the kitchen. 

Oriol was in Alexia’s lap then, sat on her thigh as he fidgeted with her wedding ring whilst they spoke quietly. The older woman’s tears had dried up, but the heartbreak on her face was still evident. Oriol, once he’d spotted Anaís, ditched Alexia and went over to his sister instead. That left the brunette on the floor of her kitchen, shirt damp with tear splotches, eyes red and ego bruised. But per her daughter’s demand, she nodded, got up off the floor, and left the kitchen, not before leaving kisses to their temples.

With a knuckle, she knocked on the bedroom door delicately, then walked in afterwards. Before the door had even closed behind her, there were two eavesdroppers waiting behind the corner of the wall for her to go in so that they could wait at the door. If Alexia’s attention wasn’t on you, and vice versa, you both would have heard the quiet thump of footsteps that stopped just outside of the room.

“I… was sent in by a very angry seven year old.” Alexia started, unsure what to do or say. You rolled onto your back and sat up against the headboard, hands fiddling with the corner of the blanket.

“I was lectured by a very angry seven year old.” You replied, the slightest hint of a smile on the midfielder’s face that spread to your face not long after. “I think they formed a coup against us.”

“I think they did.” Alexia agreed, moving away from the door and taking a seat on the bed in front of you, crossing her legs again. 

Neither of you said anything for a moment or two, and Oriol let out a frustrated huff outside the bedroom that Anaís shushed him for. Still, the two of you didn’t catch it. Alexia’s hand reached out to trace her fingertip over the pattern on the duvet below you both, a silent offering. Your hand landed in front of hers, accepting it. She linked your fingers together then, some of the pressure lifting from her chest as she squeezed your hand.

“I’m sorry. For saying what I said. And starting an argument.” You went first, knowing that you should, since you were the one that started it and let it descend into something it didn’t need to be.

“I’m sorry too. I… it was a bit stupid, wasn’t it?” Alexia grimaced, making you giggle just a little, just quietly. But it was enough for her.

“It was. We’re both a bit stupid sometimes. But thank god we’ve got two smart kids, right? Don’t know how that happened.” You teased back, this time the pair of you laughing. 

“Oriol hugged my leg and I think it made me cry even more.” You smiled sadly at that, shame crawling in that he felt the need to do that. All you could think was that he shouldn’t have had to do that.

“Anaís actually called us stupid too. Even they recognised it before we did.” You admitted with a shake of your head, a sentiment Alexia shared. Then it fell silent for a moment or two, and your smile fell into something more downbeat. “I think we need to be parents for a little while before we can sort us out. They shouldn’t have to do this, Ale. We… failed.” 

Alexia frowned deeply, one that wrinkled her forehead so intensely it was a wonder they didn’t stick. 

“We’re allowed to mess up sometimes, amor. They’re kids, they don’t expect perfection from us even if they don’t realise it. They want us to be okay, I don’t think that means we failed.” Alexia pointed out. She could see you arguing in your mind with yourself about it afterwards. “I hate that they saw it and felt like they had to fix it, I hate that too, don’t think I don’t. But it’s not a failure. We’re still here, they’re sat outside the door waiting for us, we’re all okay. They know they argue from time to time, but they still love each other. It’s no different for us.”

“I just…” You breathed out shakily, swallowed hard, and dropped your voice to a mumble. “I don’t want them to think this is what love looks like.”

The brunette softened then, immediately. She shuffled closer to you, sitting at your side, her body positioned towards yours, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as she leaned her forehead against yours. 

“They know what love looks like. They see it between us everyday. They will remember this, but they will remember the rest too. Like me kissing your cheek and their cheeks before I leave in the morning, how ‘I love you’ is the last thing we all say at night. They know there is so much more to love, but… arguing is sometimes a part of it too. Maybe it just makes it a bit more real for them, even if we want to protect them from this side of it.” 

Wise, as always. One of the most emotionally intelligent people you knew, even if it took a year or two for her to reach that point when you first got together. Her perspective on everything, especially since becoming a parent, had shifted. Now, in moments like this, she always knew what to say. And what a moving thing to state at a time you felt your parenthood fracture into two. With some perfectly placed words, handcrafted to a T, that crack was sealed with gold.

Later that night, she said near enough the same thing to your kids. She made it known, in easier phrases, basic enough for their age, that it wasn’t their job to uphold your relationship. They shouldn’t feel the need to fix it, that that was a mistake on your behalfs. Yet, simultaneously, she explained that instances like that happened every so often between parents, between two people that loved each other. Even though Anaís didn’t seem too pleased about that, she certainly seemed to sleep easier after it. The next morning, it was like nothing had even happened. Thank god for pancakes.

—

No matter how many years had passed, how many times Alexia had to travel for work, you never missed her any less. That surprised you, honestly. At some point along the way you thought you would get used to it, and you did, to some degree. You just got better at handling it; didn’t mean you missed her any less at all. Probably more, actually.

Since retiring from the national team, her trips away had gotten much shorter. No two or three week long camps some place in Europe, no summer-long tournaments. Just a night or two away for a game before getting the earliest flight back she could get away with. 

That meant, the first long trip in quite a while hit your family harder than expected. Not in a way that was hard or difficult, there was a routine for it now. But there was just something missing from your home, the atmosphere of it changed. Ten video calls a day couldn’t change that. All that mattered, to you and your children, was having her back. Having her presence, her energy, her love, in the house again. 

When she first mentioned a two week pre-season camp in Mexico, you already felt that uncomfortable twist in your stomach just at the idea of it. There was a weight behind your eyes too, not quite tears, just a heaviness, like your body was already bracing for her absence. Those two feelings paled in comparison to what it was like as you stood on your doorstep, Anaís and Oriol beside you, watching her get into a taxi with her suitcases. The kids had been quiet for the rest of the day, missing her, not knowing what to do with the love they had for her without having a place for it to go. 

The morning before her planned flight back home, you woke up to a notification from her. No text, just a screenshot. A confirmation of a new plane ticket, due to land in Barcelona that night. The excitement that energised you for the rest of the day was boundless, much to your childrens’ confusion. Due to the very late hour of her arrival compared to their bedtimes, you didn’t want to tell them about it, apart from that the next time they woke up, she would be home. And that was the truth, because you had no doubts that Alexia would go into their rooms to see them, maybe even let them sleep in your bed for the night. 

You were pacing in the hallway, nervously flitting from room to room, making sure it was tidy even though you’d cleaned already and done a hundred once-overs, checking your phone, as you listened out for her arrival. You felt a little ridiculous with how your breathing stuttered every time a car passed by.

And, finally, when the door lock clicked at midnight, the light fluttery feeling in your chest hit its peak, stronger than you ever remember it being.

You froze in the midst of your pacing, in the hallway as the door opened with a creak that always annoyed her, one you never fixed just for moments like this. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as she walked in, suitcase dragging behind her, duffel bag landing with a thud beside the shoe rack. She closed the door, shoulders slumped with the exhaustion of travelling, sighed quietly, and lifted her head up at the shuffling sound she heard of your slippers against the wood slats. Then, she gave that easy, lop-sided, quirk of a smile, the one she saved just for you, and you were moving. You didn’t greet her – instead, simply wrapped your arms around her back, hers landing around your neck and pulling you closer to her, if at all possible. A second or two of silence passed, until her soft chuckle was muffled against your hair.

“You missed me?” She hummed teasingly, her voice low and scratchy with tiredness. 

“A little.” Didn’t matter what your reply was, the embarrassingly raw emotion in your tone said it all for you.

Her grin pressed into your cheek as she turned her head, forehead against your temple, like the mere contact of your skin was recharging her soul. It was, if you asked her. 

You pulled back slightly, intending on looking at her, taking in the sight of her home again, but she surged forward to kiss you, foiling your plans as she let out an almost relieved breath against your lips. Her nose brushed yours, and it wasn’t the tidiest one you’d shared, but the way her hand came up to cradle your cheek and the softness that her lips moved with against yours was more than enough. You felt at home again, which was a little silly because you weren’t the one that had left for two weeks. But it was the truth.

“Mami?” 

A sleepy voice from the top of the stairs interrupted you both, your cheeks pink but hidden by the low light of the house bar one corner lamp, the pair of you casting your eyes up to your children staring. Anaís was there, one pant leg rolled up to her knee, most of her hair falling out of her plait. Oriol stood slightly behind her, blanket in one hand and his favourite teddy in the other.

“You are meant to be asleep.” Alexia told them both with a smile, watching as their eyes widened, like they had just processed who they were talking to.

All of sudden, there were two pairs of feet racing down the stairs so fast you thought they were going to fall through them. Anaís approached her at full speed, you hardly having enough warning to move out the way of her, giving Alexia the time to greet her children and brace for impact. Oriol trailed behind a little slower, dazed and confused. He didn’t even know 00:00 existed on a clock.

“Is it morning?” He asked, blinking like he had to think about it. You laughed quietly and shook your head, though he wasn’t at all interested in you, and you couldn’t even be mad about it.

Alexia was crouched down, Anaís wrapped in one arm as she opened the other for a waddling Oriol. He dropped his belongings and walked straight into her arms, half-asleep, adorning a dopey smile when she pulled him into her. She hugged them like she hadn’t seen them in a year, which is understandable when you’re all used to a night or two away. Two weeks in comparison to a precariously built routine that hardly lasts 48 hours feels like a lifetime. 

“You’re really home?” Anaís mumbled, clutching Alexia’s jumper collar in her fist like it was half a threat and half a hope she didn’t disappear again. Oriol watched the brunette’s face keenly, waiting for her answer, like his life depended on it.

“I’m really home.” She murmured in response, kissing their foreheads one after the other. Both of them shuffled closer to her then, trying to get as close as possible, to make up for lost time.

You watched from afar, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and gazing at the reunion of your family. Anaís’ fist didn’t budge, and Oriol clung to her arm, sleepy and clingy. You saw the way Alexia adjusted her hold on him, letting him bury his face in her neck before standing with the pair of them in her arms. She turned to you, a down-turned smile on her face, one that conveyed her adoration for the two tired beings curled into her. Now that she was home, they had settled immediately. The world was back on its tilt, the house no longer felt too big, the chests no longer missing a piece. Everything was right again.

“Go put them to bed. I’ll be down here.” You told her, not wanting to take away her time with them. She nodded, a grateful look in her eye directed towards you. You met it with a smile, then watched as she walked upstairs with two dead-weight children in her arms, hardly breaking a sweat.

Sometimes it did catch you off-guard, how much you missed her when she wasn’t with you, how much you loved her even all these years later. But all you had to do was take one look at her, see the admiration in her eyes when she gazed at her children, see the warmth and wonder she greeted you with every morning, to remember what it was that had you so content in your life. Because even after so much time had passed, she still looked at you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to her.

By the time she came back down, the house was quiet again. No thumps of feet against the floor as Anaís avoided bedtime to show Alexia each and every drawing herself and Oriol had made whilst she was gone, no requests for stories through slurred voices with drooping eyelids. Just the two of you, the hum of the fridge, the flicker of the lamp in the corner, and the gentle thrill of being together again that had your heart skipping still.

“They’re bigger.” She commented as she walked in, eyes fixed solely on you where you waited for her again. She came over to you, and that same fluttery feeling from earlier returned with every step she took.

“They always are when you come back.” 

She looked at you, then squinted a little.

“You okay?” She asked. “You seem… nervous.”

You nod your head, before breaking out into quiet, disbelieving laughter.

“I just… I’m happy you’re home again. I had like… butterflies whilst waiting for you. I have them now.” You admitted, blushing at the ever-so-slightly proud smirk on her face. “It doesn’t even make sense. We’ve been together for… feels like forever. We’ve been apart so many times, for longer than this one, but… I don’t know. I always miss you when you go. Never changes.”

To your surprise, she tilted her head and smiled, before saying, “Of course it makes sense. I always miss you too, so much. I was nervous on the ride here, and walking up to the door. It took me three attempts to get the key in the door.” 

You laughed at that, openly and freely, because you could, because the love of your life was home again, in front of you, indirectly admitting that she still loved you just as much as you loved her.

“I was too nervous to even hear that.” You said, heart clenching at the soft giggle that sounded through the room as a result. 

“I have something to tell you. Something to admit.” She stated, out of nowhere. 

“What is it? Did you leave your passport in the taxi?” That was met with a roll of her eyes and a click of her tongue.

“No, idiota. Come here and I tell you.” Her hand outstretched to take yours, tugging you closer. You stumbled a little, but she caught you, of course she did. Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight to her, her chin falling to your shoulder, mouth beside your ear. “You’re my best friend.”

You laughed, again, but there were shivers down your spine that told a different story.

“You always say that.” It was true, she did. At random points, like it was a detail of her life she didn’t want to forget, yet also couldn’t believe. 

“Because you are.” She grinned, gummy and full of heart. Then a yawn broke through her romantics, delirious and exhausted giggles spilling from the both of you. “That was a long two weeks.” 

“Without your best friend?” You teased, Alexia humming her amusement.

“Sí, exactly.” She went quiet for a moment, before speaking again. “You really are, you know? I don’t say it to be… funny. I really mean it.” 

Your heart warmed, your cheeks blushed. Again. For the thousandth time since she came home.

“I know.” You whispered, leaning back to leave a kiss to her lips. She held it longer than you planned to, reminding you of exactly what you’d missed. “It was a long two weeks. House isn’t the same without you.” 

Alexia smiled again, though it was slightly fuelled with guilt. Or maybe… regret. Like travelling for football wasn’t something she wanted to do for much longer. But her reply didn’t match the look on her face.

“I hope Anaís and Oriol find someone who loves them like this someday.”

It came out of nowhere, a quiet thing, said with ease like it wasn’t the most profound thing you had ever heard her say. You sat with it for a moment, taking it in, until you realised it had stirred something within you. Not dramatic, not loud, there was no fanfare. Just… a content revelation. 

You didn’t respond initially. You only looked at her, at her profile in the low light, the tiniest quirk of her lip that was always there when she spoke to you, the ease of which her hands rested against your waist. Like they belonged, which they did.

And you thought to yourself, because it was such a profound thing to say, and it wasn’t even really about you. It was about your children and the hope that one day they’ll be loved the way you’ve been loved. Not with grand gestures, but with consistency. A soft, everyday kind of devotion. There in her arms, this revelation of yours grew. It built a home for itself in the back of your mind that won’t move for the rest of your life.

If they find this kind of love, then they’ll be okay.

Even when things get hard for them, when the world demands things you can’t protect them from, when you’re not there to guide them through it. Someone will be. Someone who chooses them over and over, like Alexia does with you. 

You leaned back forward in her arms, inviting yourself into your embrace, which she immediately accepted as her arms tightened around you. There, something within you settled, something you couldn’t quite put a finger on. But something that felt like accomplishment as a parent. 

“You loving me like you do, it’s shown them what to look for. I can’t be so scared for their future when you’ve given them that gift, Ale.” 

That time, it was her turn to be left speechless. 

Her tired mind was too exhausted and sluggish to think of a reply worthy enough to express how much that meant to her. And if she dwelled on it for too long in such a vulnerable state, she might cry. She didn’t have the energy to cry.

“We haven’t done so bad, have we.” She mumbled against your shoulder, her body instinctively letting out a sigh of relief at the comment. Almost like it was confirmation to herself that she had done what she needed to do, both as a parent and a partner. That was all she wished for. Truly.

“I think we’ve done better than we give ourselves credit for.” You hummed, Alexia huffing a breath of laughter. She was minutes away from falling asleep in your arms. 

“We need to go to bed. We’re getting too soft. They will make fun of us if they catch us.” You giggled down her ear, and it echoed in her chest. Sparked the fire there that had dimmed whilst she was gone.

“Younger us would think we’re so lame.”

“Mm, no, not lame. I think they would be proud. We have come a long way.” 

“We have.” You agreed with ease, thinking back on the years that had passed in what felt like just a blink. “But one thing has stayed the same.”

Alexia hummed curiously, eyes most definitely closed as she held you in the middle of the kitchen of the house you’d bought together, the home you’d built.

“I love you.” 

A simple statement that hadn’t missed a day of your relationship. One thing that linked the both of you, all the way back to when you were two nervous, giddy, lovesick but too scared to say so, people that had no idea what the future held. 

Still, it seemed, you were nervous, giddy and lovesick, but now a little older and not afraid to say it. Certainly not afraid to share it with your children. So maybe, on paper things had changed, but in retrospect, a lot was the same. You had grown, individually, and come together to form something that’d last long after death do you part. Your children would carry it, their children would carry it, and so on. You stayed the same people, whilst creating something bigger than the both of you without letting it affect your relationship. That was something not many people could brag about. 

You were sure that, when you were both old, in your sixties, seventies, eighties, and beyond, should life let you, that you most definitely would brag about it. Hell, Alexia already bragged about it. You couldn’t blame her; the life you had made together was the greatest achievement you would ever do. Nothing could compare.

“And I love you.” 

Nothing could compare to that either.

—

i wish i could make this twice as long, that i could include the scenes i had to cut out, and just never end this story but the woso tumblr audience nowadays unfortunately does not Iike such a thing and it would most likely get v boring (as if it isn't too long and boring already lol) there's writers out there that could convey the summary of the final scene in a third of the word count in a single scene, so yes it is unnecessarily long but🤷🏼‍♀️ it was a nice distraction writing it and i'm sad it's come to an end lol. if you got this far, thanks for sticking with it and i hope it was enjoyable <3

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Soulmate! Au ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 043 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I'm willing to bind myself to you] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo had always been curious about the little red string attached to his finger. He had this way before his regression. His mother always told him that he is lucky that he can see his red string, it meant that he would find his lover faster than anybody else would.

Does he, a man who really could care less about fantasy romance— Find this whole thing cheesy? Definitely.

While others would certainly start flipping rocks just to find their 'one true love'; Jinwoo did none of that.

He had priorities to deal with.

Such as suddenly becoming the patriarch of the family due to his father going missing, trying to provide care to his mother who has come down into a coma, and taking care of his dear baby sister on top of that.

Jinwoo probably got into debt in the process of trying to shoulder all the financial problems.

Would you really think he had some time for romantic relationships and much less go hunting for a needle in a haystack?

However... He did have some small chemistry with Hae-in, though, it felt more shallow than anything. After all, they only met a few times and decided to roll with it just because.

It felt... Empty so to speak.

They say that romance feels like a tidal wave, once it comes— It overwhelms you with such force you'd have nothing more choice than to kneel before it and surrender yourself to it's mercy.

But Jinwoo couldn't feel any of that with Hae-in.

Don't get him wrong, she is a wonderful person. Kind, pretty, all that and whatnot.

But what can he do if a heart does not want what it wants?

His red string wouldn't be reacting neither. Not a glow, not a tug, no nothing.

Jinwoo would eventually find himself just ignoring the little red string until the time he regresses.

Heck, he even forgot about it even if it's literally tied to his very own finger.

And as he traversed the long hallways of his school, hands shoved in his pockets while listening to his friends banter around him— He felt a soft tug on his finger.

"H-hey! Knock it off, I wanna pull for Aventurine myself!" A voice would erupt his bewilderment as a sharp tug at his finger pulls again. "Iseol!"

He looks back to see your figure running after your friend who had taken your phone.

"Huh..." Jinwoo hums, shaking his head and turning away.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo felt entirely restless after that little meeting. It's not like he caught a proper glimpse at you, your back was turned the entire time.

And yet he finds himself completely fidgety. His sister even rants that he had been pacing for hours if she wouldn't snap him out of his little trance.

Has he lost his mind over a girl he hasn't properly seen? Definitely.

Is it the effects of the red string? Not impossible.

"Goddamnit!" Jinwoo sighs, ruffling his head and flopping onto the bed.

"My liege..." Beru's small voice calls out. "My lord, you are... Anxious."

"Tell me about it" Jinwoo scoffs, groaning through his pillow.

"...My liege, I have her scent, do you wish to track he—"

"You do?!" Jinwoo perks up, staring intensely at his soldier before mentally slapping himself. "Ack... No, don't make me a creep"

He felt frustrated, why would he do that? Why should he? He might as well spend his time in jail for even trying to entertain the idea of stalking you.

Jinwoo's gaze would then absentmindedly drift towards the red string on his ring fingerz nothing how much vibrant it's color is now compared to before.

Was it your doing? Maybe.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

He told himself not to be a creep and yet found himself somewhat lingering around you. All the little things about you, he started taking note of.

From memorizing the frequent pastries you buy from the cafeteria, to the drinks you often buy from the vending machine, and even trying to overhear the games you play on your phone.

It was really just curiousity.

After all, he can't help but find it cute on the way your eyes would perk up as you ramble on to your friends about some lore or complaining about some game mechanics because of how hard it was.

Jinwoo was just about to leave you to your own devices until your voice ripped through the air—

"AVENTURINE!!!!" You cheer, standing up immediately and pacing back and forth. "HE'S HOME, AFTER SACRIFICING 30 DOLLARS FOR THIS DAMN BASTARD HE'S HOM—!!!!"

Your heart dropped immediately as your shoe got caught over on a crack— And for sure you were going to land but instead a hand would reach out to hold your shoulder and keep you steady.

"Easy there," Jinwoo says, helping you stand straight.

"!!!!" You panic, pulling away with your face entirely flushed. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to!..."

"Wait, calm down—...." Jinwoo wasn't even given a second any longer to speak as you dashed away in a frenzy.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Your heart is beating out of your chest, your lungs are barely catching any breath as you coughed, the noises you made akin to whistles while trying to gasp out for air.

It's tight.

Painful.

Your hands are sweating, trembling as if it's suffering from frostbite.

Is it fear?

No.

It's just how you react after being way too dangerously close to the person you adored so much.

His eyes.

God those grey eyes.

Long lashes, a high nose bridge, thin peach lips, and that agonizingly relaxing scent on him— Gods.

Not to mention his height, he was like a tower. And those broad shoulders underneath his baggy clothing that hid the muscular form underneath—

Sung JInwoo will be the death of you.

You had been avoiding him ever since coming here.

How long has it been?... Ah... It's been 3 years since you arrived in this world.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It was supposed to be your doctor's appointment. Since you have arrived an hour earlier from your check-up, you decided to stroll around the mall first.

Okay, you weren't really taking a stroll.

Your strides are purposeful and hurried, the goal is clear:

Get to the bookstore.

As you recalled, it should be at the other end of the mall.

It didn't matter how long you're going to walk, you needed to see if it's there. Nothing is more important than that.

Taking the elevator down and nearly having a heart attack from the sound of it creaking as it took you to the lower level; you stepped out and dashed immediately to the entrance.

Glancing around like a madman, you scoured the large and intimidating place before deciding to enter completely and attempt to look for the section you needed to be in.

Passing by interesting books wasn't the goal, and after almost 3 minutes of going in circles you finally saw the section you needed to be in.

As soon as your eyes landed on the cover of the book you have been searching for— You had to swallow your squeals.

Your hands however? They were shaking so bad.

You paced back and forth for a bit before finally deciding to reach out on the book and take it out of it's shelf cautiously.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pry open the thing and feel your heart flutter.

"Jinwoo-ah...." You mumble, giggling quietly as your eyes dilate into heart shapes at the sight of the precious man you cannot stop obsessing over.

Carding your digits carefully on the fine paper, your stroke Jinwoo's face on the page delicately like you were handling the most fragile little thing ever.

You can't help but admire him all the more as you silently freak out like a madman in the aisle.

He was so handsome.

And now that you can physically run your fingers across the pages while crushing on him felt a whole lot different.

You had about a decent amount of money on you, it should be fine. As you reach for your little bag, you hear some crackling above your head.

The next thing you knew? You were suddenly shrouded in darkness.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You assume you must have died that day while shopping for your first ever solo leveling purchase. After all, you suddenly woke up in an unfamiliar apartment.

It tooka while to get used to it, but apparently you're in seoul living alone in a decent apartment with a black card containing a lot of money.

Complaints? Nowhere.

— Except that Solo Leveling doesn't exist in this world.

Did you have a literal mental breakdown over it? He yeah.

Big tears, pathetic sniffles and nasty snot. All that.

You cried like a toddler just because you cant do your monthly ritual of rereading solo leveling and admiration of Jinwoo anymore.

So with salty tears you grab a pencil and paper to start sketching him down. If you can't read, mind as well draw the image of him when it's still fresh.

It took 3 weeks to recover, and in youur room, your desk is full of Jinwoo's sketches. It isn't the same as the manhwa but it's the best you could do.

It took another 2 to finally come to terms with your new reality.

You're rich, mind as well live life, right?

You even enrolled to a highschool. After all, k-dramas are always centered around that part of life. Why not experience it yourself?

After successfully buying all of your school materials, you glance down at your ring finger and notice a delicately tied red string.

Huh...

That wasn't there yesterday.

Picking at it and attempting to take it off didn't work. So after an hour of struggling, you gave in and let it be.

Maybe the string was proof that you had died.

And maybe it was a sign that this is your purgatory. Or not, everything is way too normal except for no Jinwoo.

So heh....

But ah, it wasn't part of your plans to see a figure... Way too familiar.

Tall, dark, and handsome.

Three words and you associate it with only one person.

Amidst the crowd of students lined up on the grounds your eyes zeroed in instantly on a single boy who stood out amongst everyone.

No way... Right?

That piercing gaze, the fluffy hoodie, and a glove on his left hand.

That was Jinwoo's appearance when he regressed in time and went into highschool.

Shit.

Isn't your uniform similar to Jinah's?

You should've realized in the first place.

Wait no, you're not really mad it's just!... Jinwoo... Seeing him on the crowd, the probability of meeting him in the hallways isn't zero.

How are you going to survive? Is this why there isn't solo leveling in this world?

Because this world is where the protagonist lives?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

And that is the story of how you arrived here in this world. During the 2 months of being in school, you occasionally passed by Jinwoo, and in each fleeting moment you had to hide in the washroom to try and calm yourself from your panic. Your heart would beat as if it's going to explode, your breathing would be erratic each time that you cant really take a breath.

You always knew that meeting him will quite take a toll on you because you loved him so much, but you didn't think it would be this bad that you look like you're having a panic attack.

Stay Calm.

You need to stay calm. If you pass out from fangirling over your precious idol it'll be embarassing as hell.

Calm down.

You need to calm down.

It's not like he actually saw you, it'll be fine.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

No, it wasn't fine.

Somehow, crossing paths with Jinwoo became more uncharacteristically frequent. It's to the point that you needed to actively avoid his usual walking routes.

Is it stupid to hide from someone who has the ability to locate anyone at any given moment? Yes.

Will you still keep doing it? Yes.

You don't hate Jinwoo, you just cant handle being around him knowing how much adoration you hold inside your heart and knowing that he will never be yours.

It should be around this season when Jinwoo asks Chae Hae-in out and kisses her under the falling snow.

It isn't december 24th yet but... Does it matter?

She's so lucky, having someone like him to admire her.

The only thing you have with you is a lonely life with money.

As well as this stupid red string wrapped around your finger.

What is it meant to represent anyway? A lover?

Surely not.

Who would love you?

The sad, pathetic, lonely, and broken you who doesn't belong in this world.

Just like your previous life and this one, you feel an awful sense of alienation that is unpleasant. The kind of loneliness that eats at your heart every single day.

"Ah, you're here?" A voice from behind you makes you jump and instantly whip your head around.

"A-ah..." You panic, recognizing the familiar grey eyes.

"Now, don't even run away." Jinwoo simply says, smiling.

It made you gulp honestly, something about that grin made you feel like he's willing to pull you into the land of eternal rest if you do.

"U-uhm..." You sputter, fidgeting.

"Not even wearing gloves in this weather?" He inquires, pulling the gloves off of his hands and gently taking yours.

"..."

The red string on your finger tingled, glowing softly as the broken ends binded itself to the strings on Jinwoo's finger.

"How cute" Jinwoo interrupts the silence. "Even if you run away now, these strings will keep us binded."

"W-wait!" You panic, utterly confused as you look up at him.

"I won't force myself on you," He says, his gaze moving from the strings to your eyes. "But I do want to court you properly,... If you'll let me."

"....."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"That's the story of how me and your daddy got together," You hum softly, caressing your fingers softly against your stomach that is now holding a four month old growing baby.

"What a cute bedtime story," Jinwoo chuckles, approaching from the door and pecking your forehead. "Now, shouldn't you be asleep, hm? My pretty wife needs a lot of rest since you're carrying our little ball of sunshine"

"I just couldn't help it..." You pout at him, and he only pinches your cheek before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

"Mhm, I can tell" He shakes his head while gently pulling the blanket over you. "Go to sleep, jagiya. I still need to shower after a long day at the office"

"Please hurry..." You ask softly, tugging at his sleeve.

"I will" Jinwoo promises, leaning in to kiss your forehead again. "So go to sleep."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Sorry for the inactiveness ahhh... I'm quite burnt out as of late and I've been doing some commissions as well as running errands www. I'll postpone the cai requests for a bit longer ahhh... I have to make assassin au too ejshrgshs. Oh well, here's to praying I figure out wth I want to do with assassin au ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (2)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: still could not tell you a single thing about this plot but who knows!!!! perhaps I’ll make a whole serious out of it (??). will probably be smutty eventually.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: slightest bit of sexual tension.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

masterlist

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future chapters :)

***

The party is already in full swing by the time the two of you arrive. Sunghoon beats his driver in opening the car door for you after insisting that you stay put for him to do so. It seems a bit much, especially since Sunghoon has never held the door open for you in this manner, but you’ve learned not to stop him from pursuing what he wants. You feel a bit awkward when he holds his arm out for you to grab as you attempt to exit the car nonchalantly. It’s not commonplace for your boss to assist you in such a manner. 

Your fingers drum against the leather of your bag as the two of you walk inside. For the first time in six years, you haven’t got a clue as to why Sunghoon needs you here. Being his “plus one” usually entails business negotiations or seeking out potential connections. He’s never asked you to accompany him for the hell of it. There’s always work to be done and Sunghoon isn’t above having you put your weeknights into your work agenda. 

The venue is glamorous. A large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and the staff carry around trays of alcohol and expensive-looking appetizers. You decline a glass of champagne but accept a small savory bite with loads of caviar on top of it (you don’t want to guess how much was spent on this dish alone). Sunghoon, on the other hand, grabs two champagne flutes and holds one out to you just as you shove your food into your mouth. 

“I’m good,” you say through a mouthful. Sunghoon chuckles.

“Let loose. You’re gonna be gone in two months. You might as well enjoy the perks while you can.”

“Are you accepting that I want to quit?” 

“Absolutely not.” He pushes the glass towards you until your fingers curl around the long stem. “But I am trying to get you to have fun.” 

“I know how to have fun.”

“You’re always on work mode when we come to these things. You could learn to relax your shoulders and not talk business all the time.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s my job, Sir.”

“Sunghoon.”

“That’s my job, Sunghoon.” 

“Not tonight. Don’t think about work. Matter of fact, if anybody talks about anything work-related, direct them to me or give them my email.” 

You look at him curiously. “Since when do you care about how much fun I’m having to the point of burdening yourself with extra work?”

“Since my favorite assistant decided she wanted to quit.” 

You don’t respond. He’s naturally a forward person, but he’s never commented on the nature of your working relationship beyond praising you on a job well done when you’ve clearly earned it. Sunghoon believes in proving oneself without any handouts, especially since his nepotism granted him the work he does now. You know it was significantly easier for Sunghoon to work his way from an intern to managing partner because his family legacy is Park Inc., but all of his accomplishments are on him. It’s why he believes in giving everybody a fair shot and kicking those who don’t perform well to the curb, even if their family is considered “well known.” 

When it comes to your job and the work you’ve done for him, Sunghoon keeps his praise to a minimum. He is polite and doesn’t forget to thank you if you’ve completed a task for him, but he keeps his praise to himself until you do something that truly amazes him. You could probably count all of these stellar moments on one hand, and it took you years of working alongside Sunghoon to stop seeking his validation so much. When you focus on your work and not his praise, you seem to get more tasks done efficiently. But all you’ll ever be to Sunghoon is his assistant. Despite all of the work and knowledge you’ve acquired through your years of working at Park Inc., you doubt you’ll work your way up to become a managing partner like him. 

Lee Heeseung and Park Jongseong, two of Sunghoon’s business partners and closest friends, provide a welcomed distraction when they approach the two of you with champagne flutes of their own. They both look just as prim and polished as Sunghoon in their tailored suits and reflective black shoes. You wonder if their assistants are here tonight.

“Always good to see you,” Jongseong says with a quick hug when he sees you before greeting Sunghoon. 

“Didn’t realize you were coming.” Heeseung looks at your boss. “I thought Hana was accompanying you tonight?”

Sunghoon waves them off. “Nah. Asked my trusty assistant to come with me instead.” Heeseung looks at your hands.

“And you’re…drinking?”

“He told me it was fine,” you said, gesturing at Sunghoon. Heeseung smiles and steps forward to pull you into a short embrace as well, hands kept as a respectable distance while balancing his own drink. “Where’s Jake?” 

“Business trip to Brisbane. It’s doubling as a family vacation since he hasn’t been back to Australia since he started his career,” Jongseong explains. “He’ll be back in a week.” 

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung interrupts. “I’m stuck on the fact that you’re actually drinking and not pretending to so people don’t give you a hard time about it.”  

“I told her to let loose and not think about work too much.”

“If she doesn’t, who will?” Jongseong snorts. He turns at you. “Are you going to grace us with your presence on the dance floor, or is Sunghoon making you butter everyone up until they inevitably do what you say?” 

“She’s here because I needed a plus one and she’s here to have fun,” Sunghoon responds for you. Jongseong chuckles and stuffs his hands in his pocket.

“Well, God knows she needs a night off. You make her work too hard.” 

Sunghoon tuts. “I do no such thing.”

“He can’t be worse than Daon. No could ever be,” says Heeseung.

“I guess you’re right.” Heeseung glances between you and Sunghoon before speaking again.

“If she’s here to have a bit of fun, you won’t mind if I took her to the face floor, would you?” Something unreadable flashes across Sunghoon’s face. 

“No,” he says with his jaw fixed. Heeseung grins.

“Perfect. Shall we?” 

You give Sunghoon your champagne flute and don’t look back, enjoying the idea of entertaining your awful dance skills with somebody you’ve known for nearly as long as you’ve known Sunghoon. Heeseung is charming in all of the right ways and you can see why most of your colleagues harbor small crushes on him. He’s extremely charismatic and good at getting what he wants. It’s a quality you wished you could possess. 

Heeseung’s hand rests on the small of your back while the other gently holds your hand as he sways the two of you to the rhythm of the music. You’re not one for the theatrics of dancing the night away like Heeseung is, but it’s nice to forego your professional duties and scuff up your heels for a change. 

“You’re thinking too hard,” Heeseung says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry. I guess I’ve made a habit of being on the go when I come to these things.” 

Heeseung tuts. “Sunghoon’s pushing you to your limits, but I can see why you’re the only person he trusts to get things done.”

“I remember the days when he barely trusted me to get his coffee order right.”

“Well, you’ve come a long way since then.” 

Heeseung winks and places one hand on the middle of your back before you find him hovering above you. He doesn’t let you linger for much longer and pulls you back into his chest. The two of you have always had a friendly-yet-playful friendship, but something about him spontaneously asking you to dance and making you break your normal, party-going habits has you blushing. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Sunghoon told me you’re quitting.” Your hand on his shoulder tightens for a moment. 

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to be thinking.” 

“You’re not the type of person who can just let things go.” 

“I hate that you know me well.” 

Heeseung winks again. “My assistants and I have learned to count on you more than we can count on Sunghoon. I’d like to believe I know you better than you think I do.” 

“Well…I’ve worked alongside him for so long that it’s making me wonder what else is out there for me, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I am so lucky to have been able to travel and learn alongside him, but it’s never because I want to. I don’t want to be a career assistant.” 

“What do you want to do instead?”

“I don’t know,” you frown. “I’ve spent so long cleaning up after him and catering to his needs that I’ve never spent enough time thinking about what I want to do with my life.”

“He seems choked up about it.” 

You scoff. “I handed him my resignation letter and he barely acknowledged it.”

“Jongseong told me he picked you up from your apartment.” 

“He accompanied his driver.”

Heeseung waves you off. “Same difference.” 

“And, well…he told me to stop calling him by his title and to start calling him by his name.” 

“Oh?”

“I know. It’s weird, isn’t it? I don’t think I could ever address him by ‘Sunghoon.’”

“You call me Heeseung, though.”

You swat his chest. “Yah. That’s because I don’t work for you and you threatened to get me fired if I treated you like a stuffy higher-up.” He grins at that.

“You’ll be missed, you know. I can tell Sunghoon’s starting to spiral about it. He doesn’t call me often to talk about himself, but he spent our entire meeting discussing his weekend golfing plans.” 

“He’ll function without me.”

“I don’t know if he can.” 

As it stands currently, your personal life barely exists. It’s hard to find time to do things by yourself when you’re constantly on call. Sunghoon is respectful of your personal time as much as any high power venture capitalist can be, but you often find yourself sitting with him during late night working hours and in the early morning when he asks for your presence. It’s not a terrible job, certainly not for the pay and how it used to give you a sense of purpose in life, but it’s starting to feel like the days and months are blurring together. You don’t think you could recall what day it is without looking at your calendar. 

Your working relationship with Sunghoon is near perfect. He can be a bit of a charmer when he wants to be and knows all the right ways to get you to say yes, but you can’t say you’ve had a horrible time working under him. Sunghoon is a fair boss who trusts you far more than you trust yourself. He’s given you incredible opportunities to learn and grow as a businessperson, and it’s far more than you can say for anybody else in that office. Sunghoon values his personal time, which leads him to valuing when you take time off (and, to be honest, is rarely ever). That is something you know you’ll struggle to find elsewhere. 

But this job has seen you work over the typical forty hours to the point where you lose yourself in it. You try to balance your time in and out of the office, but it’s hard to keep up a personal life when you care so deeply about your job. The projects you work on are important to you, as is contributing to businesses that have since become successful thanks to you and Sunghoon. It gives you a sense of fulfillment to know you can be part of the reason why a local eatery becomes a celebrated chain restaurant, or why a crowdfunded product becomes internet famous for all the right reasons. It’s your job and it’s your life, but that’s what you’re afraid of.

Sunghoon will never have to wonder what it’s like to worry about paying rent or utilities because his family comes from a long line of extremely successful venture capitalists. He could try his best to blow his fortune and wouldn’t come close to spending a fraction of it. You, on the other hand, budget wisely on your salary in order to be able to afford and maintain the lifestyle you have. Every cent is accounted for and splurging on things is a treat every once in a while, aside from the budget Sunghoon gives you when you travel with him. But even then, you’d consider yourself someone who doesn’t overdo it for the principle of it all.

Aside from having little to no hobbies that require stepping out of your apartment, you don’t meet people. You don’t hang out with anybody regularly enough to build connections or to explore romantic relationships. The people you see on a weekly basis are your elderly neighbors who praise you for being quiet during the nighttime, your colleagues at Park Inc., and Sunghoon. There is no time to settle down. While Sunghoon gets his fair share of taking women home and indulging in sex and dating, you find that you’re the one who he calls when he can’t seem to get rid of people who refuse to leave. The thought of explaining this situation to your date, and having them be okay with being a glorified babysitter, seems a bit far fetched.

You tell yourself that dating shouldn’t be a big deal. It isn’t, right? Not when you’ve learned to become independent and confident in the face of venture capitalist sharks that will eat you for breakfast should you falter. The thick skin you’ve managed to build feels more like protective armor than anything else. People who know you would say they’ve seen an immense amount of growth in how you carry yourself, and while you credit it to working in the environment you do, most of it is because you refuse to let yourself falter, even if for a moment. 

Dating hasn't been on your mind for the past few years. You were young, and you still are, but the years after graduating university were dedicated to figuring out where you belonged. This job at Park Inc. was a great blessing. Having to focus on getting your job done and learning about the business took up more time than you anticipated, so there was no time to think about relationships. You were very much in the mindset of pursuing a career before indulging in boys. Perhaps it’s your hyper independence that led you to push any yearning for romance aside. But it’s bubbling to the surface like a vengeance in the present day. 

And if you’re being honest, you feel incredibly silly. It feels stupid to watch movies or read books and wish you could experience the kind of love that leaves you breathless. You’ve never been one for the theatrics, but what if you were? What if you were the type to meet a guy and fall for him instantly? What would you be like if you were the type of person people naturally gravitated towards? If you were any different, would guys come up to you out of the blue and entertain you until one of you ultimately decided it isn’t worth it? 

You don’t have the time to consider these things beyond daydreams. Your days are filled with project meetings, phone calls, scheduling, and anything else Sunghoon requires of you. It’s gotten to the point where you’re considering asking him to get a second assistant to help you with the tasks you’re drowning in. 

You don’t have the luxury of meeting incredibly handsome men who want everything to do with you as Sunghoon does. People fall at his feet when he looks at them. With his warm brown eyes and devilish smile, he barely has to lift a finger to get people to fall to their knees. You’ve seen it one too many times, whether it be women who lunge at the chance to go home with him or potential clients who want his money for their business. Sunghoon knows how to sweet talk and he knows how to get what he wants without making the other person realize they’re submitting to his will. His charisma is admirable. You wish you could be a little more like that. 

Thinking about how little action you get compared to Sunghoon feels like you’re losing your mind, too. You’ve had shitty dates and failed hookups in the past that leave you wondering if trying is worth it. It doesn’t seem like that’s the type of lifestyle for you, and while you’re not necessarily looking to settle down with the next person you meet, you desperately wish you could meet somebody who doesn’t disappoint you by the time the check arrives. It’s almost aggravating when Sunghoon walks into the office with a post-sex glow to him. It’s irritating when he calls you to take women out of his house and see him in all of his glory (shirtless only—you’re crossing so many boundaries just by helping Sunghoon in this matter but damn, his abs are chiseled by the gods). 

You’d have to be completely blind to think Sunghoon isn’t attractive. Meeting him for the first time felt like you were meeting the child of Aphrodite. His hair naturally fell into all the right places and his suit was tailored to the nines. He was commanding yet soft, and his baritone voice felt like pure velvet the first time you heard him speak. Your knees nearly buckled when he looked at you and you imagine that’s what every woman must feel like when he gives them his attention. You know far too well just how charming and handsome Sunghoon is, and you’ve learned to push these thoughts and feelings to the very back corner of your mind. 

Sunghoon always is, and always will be, off limits. He’s your boss, for starters. In the early days of your career, you’d find yourself fantasizing about him and his otherworldly looks when desperate times called and when bad dates left you wondering what life would be like if you weren’t Sunghoon’s assistant, but someone he took home. It always made you feel guilty and shameful, especially when you’d walk into his office the next day and make any sort of eye contact with him. That feeling ate at you alive to the point where you had to force yourself to view this as a professional, working relationship only. Besides, there was no chance Sunghoon would ever jeopardize himself like that. He takes work too seriously to ever mix it in with his private life. 

Eventually, you learned to tune those feelings out and view him like your superior. Sunghoon’s always been a bit friendly with you, especially as your years of working together grew. You know so much about his family, where he lives, his goals and aspirations, to the point where you think you know more about him than you know about yourself. You’ve seen him stress over big projects and celebrate incredible milestones. You’ve been with him every step of the way for the past six years, and leaving his side is the scariest thing you’ve done in your life thus far. 

You know he’ll be just fine. Sunghoon might have to get to know somebody all over again and get used to working a different dynamic, but it’s not as if you’re irreplaceable. That thought tends to keep you up at night every once in a while. Not a single person has ever made you feel like you’re worth fighting for and nobody has ever gone out of their way to show you how much they value you. It comes easily to Sunghoon to the point where you’d be surprised if people didn’t want anything to do with him. 

Those kinds of things don’t happen for you very easily. Men don’t fall to their knees when they see you and they certainly don’t strike up a conversation with the hopes of scoring your number. You can count on your hand the number of times people have hit on you, and while it’s not a measure of who you are as a person, it does make you feel shitty about yourself when you start to compare your love life with your boss’s. 

So you find yourself here, standing in between Heeseung’s arm, feeling like a shy school girl who got asked to prom for the first time. It’s ridiculous. You’ve known him for nearly as long as you’ve known Sunghoon, and Heeseung has always been friendly in a way a colleague should. He never oversteps nor makes you uncomfortable, but the feeling of his hand on your back makes your mind drift to a scenario in which you’re dancing with the love of your life. It makes you feel small. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

As if on cue, Sunghoon’s voice pierces through your wandering thoughts. 

“After this song, Hoon. I’m having quality time with your assistant.”

The song ends just as Heeseung is done speaking. It feels like the universe might as well be laughing at you.

“Would you look at that? The song just ended.” Heeseung steps away and winks at you before looking at Sunghoon.

“She’s all yours.” 

Sunghoon resumes Heeseung’s position and every fantasy you’ve had of him from the early days of your career suddenly makes their way to the forefront of your mind. No matter how much you try to push them back in their place, these desires keep coming up like a canon of confetti at the end of a concert. Your heart rate picks up slightly and you hope your hands don’t feel as clammy as you think they are.

“Having fun?” 

“I’d hardly count coming to a stuffy event as fun, but I’m not miserable.” 

Sunghoon tilts his head. “You don’t like schmoozing with men who only care about money?” The two of you share a laugh. It’s so easy to let your guard down with him.

“Ha-ha. No, Sunghoon, I don’t typically imagine this as my ideal way of having fun.”

“No?” He pulls you closer to his chest as he brings the two of you deeper into the dance floor. It makes you help in surprise and Sunghoon doesn’t bother hiding his pleasure when he grins. “What do you like to do for fun, hm?”

“I…I don’t know.” 

Sunghoon clicks his tongue. “It can’t be all work and no play, you know. That makes Jack a dull boy, or however the saying goes.” You roll your eyes.

“I’m too busy taking care of you, remember?” 

“Ah, yes, and what a wonderful job you’ve done. Come on. Tell me something you like to do when you’re not with me.”

“I like to read, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I like to read. Better?” 

“Much. What kind of books?”

“Depends on my mood. Sometimes I like reading fiction, sometimes nonfiction. I like thrillers a lot.”

“You’re one of those types who likes to see if you can unravel the plot before you get to the end, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Knew it.” He squeezes your hand placed in his. “Anything else besides reading?”

“I like traveling. I don’t do it much unless you request I go somewhere with you. But I like exploring places by myself without the pretense of work.” 

Sunghoon frowns. “You don’t travel much?” 

“No, not with the work I have to do.” You let out a small laugh. “I try not to be too jealous when you take time off work to go to Europe or America.” 

Sunghoon nods once and spins the both of you as the song’s tempo picks up. “You’ll have more time to travel when you leave me, no?” 

“Mhm.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Osaka sounds nice. I’ve only ever been to Tokyo for a few business meetings, but we’ve never had time to go elsewhere. New York sounds like a dream. Maybe I’ll visit São Paulo or Rome if I’m lucky.” 

“That’s quite the bucket list.” 

“I’m an ambitious woman.” He squeezes your waist. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

“You know, this is probably the longest I’ve talked about myself with you.” 

“Is it?”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s usually business talk first thing in the morning, and then whatever you’ve been up to.”

“I don’t ask you what you do on the weekends?”

“Sometimes. Mondays are usually our busiest days, though.” 

He frowns. “I should’ve paid more attention. Maybe that’ll convince you to stay.” 

“You’re funny.” 

The song ends and Sunghoon doesn’t pull away like you think he will. He’s not somebody who generally enjoys spending time with his colleagues more than he has to, and that includes you. Part of you wonders if some innate guilt keeps him dancing with you, but you try not to think about the negative possibilities when you’re with him. 

“What are you going to do when you’re free?” Sunghoon asks as the next song begins. “Are you booking a plane ticket to New York or Osaka?” 

“I don’t know, honestly, but maybe I should. Who knows, I could find the love of my life on vacation and move to a brand new city if it works out.”

“Love of your life, huh?”

You shrug. “Dunno. I’ve been thinking about, err, my love life, or lack thereof, for the past few weeks. I don’t have time to date around when I’m at your beck and call. God, this is weird, isn’t it?”

“What is? Talking about your love life? Or, how did you say it, ‘lack thereof’?” 

“If I’m being honest? Yeah. I’ve seen you hook up with so many women in the years I’ve known you but that’s what assistants are for, right? Helping you out of situations without asking any questions?” 

“I suppose you’re right. You don’t keep to shy away from things all the time with me, though,” he reassures. “We’ve known each other for half a decade. I think that earns you the right to talk about yourself whenever you feel like it.” 

“Seems like I'm crossing a boundary.” 

“I’m telling you tonight that you aren’t. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about a boyfriend before.” 

“Nope.” You tilt your head and keep your lips in a thin line when you smile. “Got my hands full with you.” 

“Some would say you’re in a lucky position.” 

He laughs when you roll your eyes. When you try to step away and take yourself out of Sunghoon’s grasp, he immediately pulls you back into him. It catches you off guard and you’re suddenly aware that he’s looking at you with those commanding brown eyes peeking through his bangs. It makes your breath falter for a moment. 

“I appreciate you more than you know. I hope you know that.” His baritone voice nearly makes you knees buckle.

“Thank you for saying that.” 

“I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You look away. “I’m sure you could find someone else who’d be a better fit than me.” 

“Don’t downplay yourself. You’re a fantastic assistant who’s kept my head on my shoulders for the past six years.” 

“Sunghoon…” 

“Say it. Say ‘I’m a great assistant.’” 

“I’m a great assistant.” He grins. 

“Good girl.” 

Yeah. You must be losing it if hearing your boss say that makes you feel a little worked up. Those feelings from when you first met rise to the surface and you struggle to push them down. It doesn’t help that Sunghoon looks like a Greek God among mortals with his chiseled jawline and impeccable skin. You stare at him far too long to realize how long his eyelashes are and how he looks quite handsome when he’s looking at you like he’d do anything to make you change your mind about quitting your job.

Goodness, you think. I’m screwed.    

***

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[whore4mattsturniolo]

IFHY - Dealer!Chris x Stoner!Reader

pt 2, pt 3

You were sitting on Chris' lap, pushing him further into the cold leather of your couch as you kissed passionately, his rough hands grabbing at your ass over your pajamas. Your legs were on each side of him, your chest flush against his as he rolled his hips against yours, earning a groan from both of you. You leave a trail of kisses down his jawline, making your way down to his neck. Your tongue traces the sweet spot towards the back, his head instinctively rolling to the side to give you better access. A light moan escapes his lips as you press gentle kisses against his skin.

You lean back for a second, holding Chris’ face in your hand, just to admire him. His hazy, half lidded, blue eyes. His pink lips, growing swollen from the roughness of the kisses the two of you had shared for what seemed like hours. You run your fingers through his tousled hair, tangled from being under the hat that was now discarded on your floor. He was wearing a black shirt that fit him perfectly, tight around his biceps and scrunched across his chest. He smiles at you, his hands moving from your ass to your hips, tracing circles over the exposed skin.

You smile back, and for a moment, it feels like it’s only the two of you left in the world. Your eyes wander over his face, admiring every inch of him, until they lock on a faded, barely visible mark towards the back of his neck. You lean forward, trying to get a better look, and you finally do.

"Chris," you furrow your brows, holding his cheeks in a tight grip, moving his head to get a closer look at the brownish-purple mark. The lovesickness fades to actual sickness, your stomach dropping at the sight as you grab his face tighter.

Your fingers leave red indents in his cheeks as you jerk his head round, "What the fuck—what?" He winces, ripping his face away from your grip. He rubs his jaw, looking at you like you were speaking a completely different language.

"Is that a hickey?" You ask, though you already know the answer to the question. Your hands move to grab his face again, still in disbelief. Jealousy begins to creep through your body, your heart pumping faster, your breath quickening.

Chris swats your hand away. “Fuck are you doin’?” He demands, still slouched against the couch. His eyes are still hazy and red, barely following the angry expression on your face. "Get off me."

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” Your voice grows stern, hiding the shakiness in your voice as your throat grows tighter.

“Fuck does it look like?” He shoots back, seemingly unbothered, watching you practically jump off his lap. He mutters under his breath, “Stupid,” he glares as you scramble your feet, shaking your head in disgust. You can’t even meet his eyes, starting to clean up any random mess you could find. You take the dishes off the coffee table and bring them to the kitchen, pacing around the house.

“Knew I should’ve never trusted you,” you weren’t looking at Chris when you said this, but he knew you were talking to him. And yet, he still can’t bring himself to fully care. He barely even shifts, watching you tread across the room and scoffing. You grab his hat from the floor, throwing it hard against his chest, earning a grunt from Chris as you walk off again.

“Why you trippin’ about it?” He raises his voice from the couch, brushing his hair back with his hand and putting his hat back on his head. “You knew what it was from the beginning."

“Don’t play dumb, Chris,” you stand in front of him with crossed arms, your breathing intentionally slower, controlling your anger. “You said you weren’t fucking anybody else and then you come to my house with a hickey on your neck?” you sigh, walking down the hall. This time, Chris chases after you, still wanting to continue the argument.

It wasn’t often you and Chris argued. In all honesty, there was nothing for the two of you to argue about. It wasn’t like the two of you did much talking when he came over anyway. When spent the stay the night, too high and exhausted to untangle himself from your body, he’d wake up with you resting peacefully on his chest, his arm wrapped around you protectively, whispering sweet nothings in his sleepy state. He'd doordash a cheap breakfast and watch movies on your couch with his arm over your shoulders, staying in that position for hours.

“I’m tired of this clingy shit, bruh. Actin’ like you’re my girlfriend or somethin’,” he leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, watching as you adjust picture frames, straighten the comforter on your bed, move your nightstand, anything to ignore him. “Buggin’ out over a fuckin' hickey,” he continues as you walk out of your room, pushing past Chris and bumping his shoulder.

“I don’t know why you like playing mind games with me, Chris!” The volume of your voice starts to grow. “I’m not dumb. I’m not slow. I don’t need shit from you.”

Chris rolls his eyes, following you back into the kitchen and stepping close to you. “Yeah? You don’t need shit from me?” He grabs the chain around your neck with two of his fingers, looking deep into your eyes. “Whose chain you got on right now? Whose weed do you smoke every day?” With quickness, you pull the chain off, throwing it onto the counter, the clattering sound echoing in the silent room. Chris clenches his jaw, not tearing his eyes away from you. "Stop bein' a lil' bitch and hop off my fuckin' dick."

"How dare you stand here in my kitchen and call me a bitch?" Your voice raises in volume on instinct, your eyes pricking with hot tears as your throat starts to grow tighter. Chris glares at you coldly, his own throat bobbing as he swallows. There's no feeling behind his eyes, no remorse, no guilt. He called you a bitch and he meant it. "I got your opps starin' at me everywhere I go. Bitches comin' up to me asking if we're fucking and I don't even know what to tell them! I have done nothing but be good to you, and you call me a bitch—"

Chris lets out an exasperated groan, rolling his eyes as you continue yelling at him, though its clear every word is going in one ear and out the other. "I told you what it was from the fuckin' beginning!" He shoots back at you, his voice growing louder. "You act like we're boyfriend and girlfriend and you get mad at me when I tell you we're not! I told you I wasn't down with that couple shit!"

"Then why do you chase off every guy I ever try to fuck with? Holdin' me in your lap at parties, callin' me your girl to everybody else, sayin' that nobody will ever treat me like you?" you continue to shout, but your voice breaks as hot tears slip down your warm cheeks. "You come over Friday night, stay until Sunday. You sleep in my bed, you have all your clothes in my closet, all your Pepsi's in my fridge. If you wanted to hit it and quit it, you would've," you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, your breath growing staggered as Chris stares you down.

"Yeah and you still let me didn't you?" He leans against the countertop. "You coulda sent me home any time you wanted, coulda told me you didn't wanna fuck wit' me anymore," he walks past you, his footsteps hard, vibrating under your feet. You watch as he slumps back onto the couch of the living room. Your couch. In your living room. "Don't forget when you were beggin' me to fuck you the night after Valentine's Day. Coulda sent me home that night. But you didn't."

You tower over his relaxed figure, watching his chest rise and fall as he stares back at you, his arm slung over the top of the couch. He manspreads, adjusting the red fitted hat you threw at him. "I didn't send you away 'cause I thought you wanted to stay," more tears start to fall down your cheeks, more than you could wipe away, as you choke back a sob, though your voice still remains stern. You're not yelling, but you're still talking above normal levels. "I thought you liked me."

Chris scoffs, rubbing his hand over his face. "Thought I liked you? How fuckin' old are you?" A dry laugh leaves his lips. "I could call up a girl, fuck her, and send her home in 15 minutes. That mean I like her?" He looks up at you, his eyes cold and uncaring.

With shaky hands, you grab his car keys off of the coffee table, the cold metal digging into your palm and leaving indents in your skin with your tight grip. The silver Audi logo shines against the dull light as you throw the keys at Chris' chest, landing on his lap with a thud. He grunts against the sound of the jingle, sitting up straight. He rubs the point of impact, furrowing his brows at you. Your voice is calm, hiding the pain and anger bubbling inside. "Get out," you say, your eyes never leaving his face.

For a moment, Chris' expression falters, his overconfident, nonchalant mask slipping. He sucks his teeth, standing to his feet. "C'mon angel," he draws out the nickname that never failed to make your heart flutter. Until now, when all it did was piss you off more. He traces soft circles your crossed arms, his voice low. "Quit trippin' on me. You know I'mma show you a good time no matter what," he has the slightest smirk on his face, holding your chin in between his fingers. He looks into your eyes, squinting, searching for any sign of your resolve cracking. But there's nothing.

You step back from him, his arms dropping to his sides. "Get away from me. Get out of my house," you stare back at him, your throat raw from yelling.

Chris sighs and rubs his hands over his face, groaning. "I can't fuckin' stand you, y'know?" He shakes his head, walking towards the door. He slips on his Jordans, muttering to himself as he gathers his belongings. He throws on his jacket and grabs his keys off the couch. Walking towards the door, he gives you one final look of disappointment. "Hope your dealer sells better shit than me." He slams the door behind him, the decor on the wall shaking at the impact.

"I fucking hate you!" you shout at the door, your voice cracking as you sink onto the couch, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in you hands. He most likely heard your choked out yell as he left, but you knew he didn't care. He didn't care and now, neither did you.

tags: @yourmother29 @bowsandsturniolos @sweetshuga @sturns-mermaid @leah-sturniolo @spideylana @dykes4chris @sophsturns @mattsbunnyxx @slut4christopherr @trevorsgodmother @sosasturns @emely9274 @courta13 @heartsonlyforchris @chrissweetheart @leoslaboratory @mattybsgroupie @conspiracy-ash @chriss-slutt @secretlocket @sagebutter11 @chrepsi @pr3ttylittleslutt @iloveduckssm @tezzzzzzzz @evansturn @izzylovesmatt @mr-wrinkleton @sturn777 @theyluvivi @chrisslut04 @wildfluer @espressqe @mooki3-bear @whor3ing @miguelspvssy @blueboeh444 @chrattho1 @isasflorals @adoremattsturns @muwapsturniolo

[kokokoula]

it's alright

TW: smut in the second section, but i make it as fluffy as possible i swear

a/n: um in my defence i just really wanted soft and cute smut and i couldn't find much. it is my first time writing nsfw ok, it will probably be a bit cringy. i'm not planning to write any more smut in the future, just spare me this one 😔🙏

---

it's well late into the night, but it's only now that both you and your coworker, tsukishima, finally end work at the sendai museum. as you take the lift down together, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud grumble. tsukishima doesn't bother to hide his laugh.

"shut up, i haven't eaten dinner yet." you scold him, your face hot.

"right."

at the sight of his amused face, your heart does a little flutter.

you're close enough to your reserved colleague, sharing the same shifts and all. not to the point of contacting outside of work, but there is still some kind of weird connection that you can't imagine having with anybody else. it gives you butterflies and uncontrollable smiles, makes you look forward to work, even. despite that, you shove it down. maintaining professionalism is a strict rule here.

the two of you are close enough.

"damn, i'm craving for good ramen right now." you lament as the lift doors open. he lets out a noise of acknowledgment and walks out. you're used to his nonchalance, and simply leave the building with him. you're about to part ways, till he calls out from behind.

"aren't you coming?" you stand there dumbly, not understanding his words.

"you want ramen, don't you? i know a place still open." tsukishima nods to the opposite direction. you widen your eyes. you know he isn't one to initiate these kinds of things, and you've never hung out after work together before. you don't want anything to happen between you two... but one supper can't do any harm, right?

you grin and catch up to him.

---

you were dead wrong. incredibly wrong. you blame him for getting yourself in this mess.

because now you have the one you swore not to get too close to on top of you, in your bed, kissing you senseless.

it's your first time seeing him like this: his hair dishevelled, his lips swollen, and his golden flecked eyes without the lenses; he's even more beautiful. okay, if this is a mess, a mistake, it's a perfect one.

tsukishima sinks his cock into you. it stings a bit at first, but the feeling is quickly replaced by something else entirely better.

"fuck, you're so…" he groans and you bite your lip. you run your fingers through the strands on his nape in adoration and his hips snaps into you, eliciting a moan.

"hah, your fault." he starts thrusting, hard, and you give a cry out. all the while, he's cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away your stray tears lightly. it's a funny contrast. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing, nibbling, panting, moaning… shit, you can feel it coming.

"tsuki--"

"kei."

"huh?"

"my first name. kei." it's sacred.

"kei," you experimentally let the word roll off your tongue. you've never said it before, but it feels right. he takes in a sharp breath.

"good girl." he pushes your legs further apart to reach the spot that makes you see stars.

"kei!" his name comes to you so easily now, and you won't mind saying it a thousand times over. he rewards you with a rough, albeit sloppy, kiss. pinning one of your hands to the soft mattress, he intertwines his fingers with yours, gripping tightly. it's a small action, but it's an affectionate one.

you think you might actually be falling for him. it's probably a terrible idea, but maybe it's worth taking the risk.

---

the sun is rising on the horizon, and you'd just fallen asleep. meanwhile, tsukishima lies awake next to you, studying your face and listening to your steady breaths.

it must be creepy of him, he thinks, but he can't bring himself to look away. he has known you for over a year now ever since you joined the museum, and spent half of it pining for you. to end up here with you, is something he believed he could only dream of. kei brings his hand up to brush away the stray strands of hair covering your face, but stops himself before he actually does.

is he allowed to do this? to be this intimate? it sounds stupid, given that you two have just fucked. however, he has always made it a point to keep to corporate's rules, and now that he had just broken an important one, he doesn't know what to do.

tsukishima's mind runs in circles, but everything halts when you snuggle closer to his chest, a cute little frown on your sleeping face. he melts immediately, his face flushing red.

fuck it, he won't be able to not love you from this point forwards. he carefully puts an arm around your sleeping figure and places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

right now, he'll just enjoy being with you, and that should be alright.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Flatbeds and Ice Cream

Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> You have known Tyler for ten years and although your first meeting might not have been the most conventional, neither is the way you finally get together.

Disclaimer: Mostly lovable fluff, hint of angst (if any), mention of bull rider!Tyler, reader is a doctor, subtext of Tyler being an EMT, mention of cuts and bleeding. Reader patched Tyler up, Tyler patches Reader up. Soft kisses. Happy Valentines Day, people! Hope you enjoy this one ❤ Not Proof Read.

It was no secret that Tyler had been pining after you for years. Well, saying that. It was kind of a secret. From you, at least. 

But everyone else saw it. 

They saw it in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke to you and how he was around you. He’d never taken anybody star gazing in the meadow he found when he was on his very first tour of Tornado Alley. He’d never sat up and waited for someone to get back from their date, even though he had no need to. And he’d never sat and listened to someone’s instructions when it came to being careful and having someone take care of him. 

For as long as you’d known Tyler, he’d always been reckless. Careful, but reckless nonetheless.

The first time you’d met him had been when he’d thrown himself in front of a bull to save your brother. 

They were on the circuit together. Whilst Tyler rode them, your brother looked after them. And they were good friends – your brother always talked about Tyler; how skilled he was, how charming he was with the girls and how smart he was, too, despite his head getting stomped on one too many times by a bull. 

Your first conversation with Tyler had been in the hospital. Your brother refused to leave his side. You couldn’t blame him. He’d saved his life. But that didn’t stop you from yelling at Tyler when you finally got introduced. Once you’d given your thanks and your brother had left the room for a moment, you yelled at him. 

“Go on. I can tell you’re dying to yell at me.”

You didn’t know whether to ask him how he knew or to just start yelling. “Believe me, I am more than grateful for you saving my brother but you are a complete idiot! What the hell were you thinking? Jumping in front of a bull like that?! You know you could have died, too?! You almost did! And what would have happened then? One casualty? Two? You know, that shared idiot of ours tells me a lot about you.”

“He does?”

“Yeah. He tells me you’re skilled at what you do.”

Tyler smiled, feeling pride in his chest. “Thanks-”

“He also says you’re smart. Too smart for just being a bull rider.”

“It’s a noble profession-”

“And it almost got you killed today. Not because you were riding, but because it decided it didn’t want to play anymore and started to fight back. More than just bucking a rider off. You’ve got a brain, Tyler. I suggest you use it before it’s too late.”

Tyler’s reaction stalled for a moment as you hiked your bag a little further up your shoulder before making your way towards the door. 

“Hey, hold on.” You paused by the door and looked back at Tyler. “Where do you think you get off with saying something like that to me?”

You sighed. “Tyler, as far as I’m aware, you and my brother are best friends.”

He nodded silently, waiting for an explanation. 

“That gives me full right to cuss him out and tell him the exact same thing if it was him in the hospital bed. And since you’re his best friend, it gives me full right to do the same with you.”

That same year, Tyler applied to college. 

Four years of education and years of chasing later, Tyler had his own rodeo team and every once in a while, you joined him. For the first few, your brother had joined him until he met a girl from Seattle in the middle of Tornado Alley. After that, he hung up his chasing hat and settled down with a comfortable job in her hometown. 

But you stayed on. 

“Don’t get hurt,” you called out over the radio as Dexter pulled into the side of the road and parked. 

“I promise.” Tyler’s voice rang back. 

And then they were off again. Like with every chase and every storm the Wrangler’s came across. Off roading, going seventy miles an hour across fields, in between wind turbines or wooden fences and wheat. By the time Tyler came back with the truck it was covered from top to bottom in dirt and wet grass. 

As he stepped out of his truck, you took a long look at him. If anyone didn’t know how either of you were with each other, they could have mistaken it for you checking him out. Which you were. But for more reasons than that he just looked like a greek god in a cowboy rodeo heaven. 

You were checking to see if he was okay. 

“You’re bleeding.”

Tyler laughed, “What?”

Pressing a light finger to the cut on the side of his head, he winced and you showed him. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m bleeding.”

“How did you do it?”

Tyler thought about it for a moment as you both fell into the similar movements of you guiding him away from his truck to sit down on the floor of the van as you grabbed your medical kit. Meanwhile, the others started tidying the equipment up before they’d sit down with you and Tyler in the parking lot. 

“There was a gust and the truck door closed. It hit me but I didn’t think it hit that hard.”

He did. He felt it. But he didn’t know it was bleeding. 

Standing in between his legs, his fingers deftly fidgeting with the fabric of your trousers, your concentration remained on him and getting the cut cleaned and sealed. You moved his chin with your fingers and his head followed your movements. 

“This might sting.”

It did.

He didn’t hide it very well. 

“Sorry,” you apologised, blowing a little light air onto it to stop the momentary burning sensation. 

Meanwhile, across the lot, Boone was watching both of you. 

“Do you think they’ll ever do anything about it?”

Lily turned and looked in his direction. Tyler’s eyes were fixed on you as you took careful consideration with helping fix his cuts. 

“Don’t talk about it. I’ve been trying to get them together for years.”

“Man, Tyler is sooo in love with her.”

Lily looked over even though she didn’t need to, to know it was true. Tyler looked at you in a way Lily had never seen a man look at a woman before. There was more than just trust and respect there. There was also something more than just ‘love’. The word ‘love’ seemed too simple for the bond that you and Tyler had. 

Maybe ‘soulmates’ or ‘twin flames’ were better descriptions. 

She’d seen it between you both since day one of meeting you. She met Tyler maybe a year earlier and they were fast friends but something she picked up on, even before she came to know Tyler as her family, was that Tyler had someone. 

He had a connection with someone in his life, unlike any other. 

Of course, it wasn’t until she met you that she realised who that was with. The sole reason why no other romantic relationship – no matter how perfect the girl Lily seemed to find – did not work. 

She was never you. 

And it didn’t take long for confirmation from Tyler considering he couldn’t hide his feelings from his face whenever he looked at you. But he was convinced that you never felt the same because you were like that with everyone. 

And he was right. To an extent. 

When Lily got pelted with hail that hard it cut her skin, you patched her up. You made her swear to be careful and you patched her up. But you never looked at her like how you looked at Tyler. When Boone did a back-flip and landed wrong, you cussed him for being an idiot and helped patch him up. You never stood in between his legs or looked at him like how you looked at Tyler. 

It was all in the subtle differences with how you treated everyone else compared to Tyler. 

With Tyler, there was almost something more intimate about the whole thing. Because even when you stood in between Javi’s legs when his sunglasses scared his nose, there was nothing seemingly romantic about the ordeal. 

But you and Tyler…

That was something magical. 

“Do you think there’s anything we can do to, you know, push it along? They’re killin’ me.”

Lily laughed and Boone helped her up onto the back of the truck. “I’ve got a few ideas but so far they’ve not exactly gone to plan.”

“I say just leave them to it.” Dani said as she rounded the back of the truck. “Best to leave it to fate. When it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen.”

“I agree. If we push them together too soon, it could backfire.”

“They’ve known each other over a decade.” Kate said, leaning onto the flatbed. “How much longer can it be?”

“We could always parent trap them?” Javi offered. 

But Lily shook her head. “I tried that but they just figured out a way to get out together.”

Kate looked at her. “So, when I saw them climbing out of the motel storage closet two months ago…that was because of you?”

“Guilty.”

They all looked back to the oblivious couple. 

“Maybe it’s just timing.”

Boone sighed. “If they don’t get together soon, we’ve gotta do something about it.”

As they watched the couple, they realised Boone was right. 

“Well, what’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

“You should be okay, now.”

Tyler smiled and went to touch his wound. “Thanks, Doc.”

You slapped his hand away and it instantly dropped. “Don’t touch it. And, you’re welcome.”

Tyler watched you for a moment or two. Something seemed off. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

You looked at him as you packed the rest of the supplies away, but it was only brief. To anyone else, making eye contact when saying a statement like that might actually mean you were ‘fine’. But Tyler didn’t believe it for a second. 

He’d known you too long. He knew all of your tells. 

“No, you’re not.”

For a moment, your guard dropped and your gaze shot to him. How the hell did he know? You already knew how. It was Tyler. He could read you like a book. When he actually read the secret book on you, you’d never know. All you knew was that you shouldn’t have been shocked that out of everyone, he was the one to notice. 

Better yet, he was the one to not ask his question again, but rather tell you the truth you didn’t want to admit to yourself. 

“What is it?”

You remained silent, packed up the rest of your things and stepped up and behind him into the van. And he followed suit. 

“Y/n, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Ty. I promise.”

Tyler clicked his tongue as he leaned against the small kitchen side. “There you go, breaking rule number two.”

“Rule number two?”

“Never lie.” Tyler told you. 

“Since when do we have rules?” 

“Uh, since you gave me a set of them ten years ago. This goes both ways, Sweetheart. If I have to live by them, so do you.”

“Well,” you had to think on your feet. “You broke rule number one. Don’t get hurt. Seems we’re even.”

You went to move past him, to run away from the conversation but slightly sticking his arm out, he stopped you. And, feeling his eyes on you, you looked at him. 

“Talk to me,” Tyler’s voice was quiet. Soft. Like he was trying not to startle you. “Please.”

If you looked at him any longer, you’d cave. Those green eyes of his always had some kind of magical power over you. So you shook your head and forced yourself to look away. 

“It’s nothing.” Then you stepped back a little. “I better go and check on the others.”

Tyler let you go, but he knew the conversation wasn’t over. Something was up and you were hurting. And he needed to find out why. 

Tyler’s eyes rarely left you over the next day and a half. You kept your eye on his wound, but when you cleaned it, that’s the only place you looked. You didn’t sneak a look at him like you usually did when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. You barely said two words to him. 

He’d asked Dani and Dexter if they knew anything about what had happened to you, but even they didn’t know. They knew you’d been quiet for the last couple of days, but other than that you seemed okay. 

It was as the sun started its descent in the sky that you got a knock on your motel door. Everyone had either gone for a nap or a shower, so you didn’t fully know who to expect. But once you opened your door, it was no surprise. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Tyler smiled. “Are you busy?”

You shook your head. “Not really. Why?”

“I’m gonna go for a drive, want to come with me?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to decide between saying ‘yes’ and ‘no’. On one hand, you’d love to join him. On the other, you knew within the first ten minutes of the drive, Tyler would know everything about what you weren’t telling him just by your silence. 

Tyler could see the contemplation washing over your face. “Let me rephrase? I’m going for a drive, and I want you to come with me.”

Looking into his eyes, you felt your internal battle melt away. 

“We need to talk.”

Internally, you sighed. You couldn’t avoid him forever. 

“Let me grab my jacket.”

“I’ll be by the truck.”

Two minutes later, you walked down the metal steps as you zipped up your jacket in the slow breeze that passed through the peaceful silence of the motel. Tyler stood by the passenger door, waiting to open it for you and close it behind you. 

Then he rounded the front before he pulled himself into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the lot and headed down the backroads. 

Usually, the radio would be playing on some kind of country station and the silence wouldn’t even be noticed between yourself and Tyler. But he wanted to talk. You both needed to talk. 

“Where are we headed?”

“Thought we could get some ice cream.” 

You smiled. Ever since Boone had mentioned it in the morning, you’d had a craving for it. 

After a few more minutes of silence, you plucked up the courage to ask. “So what did you want to talk about?”

Tyler looked at you, back at the road and back to you with a sigh. “Please remember we’re going for ice cream.”

“Okay.”

“And that I’m driving.”

You were getting a little worried. 

“Okay?”

“I called your brother.” You just stared at Tyler, waiting for him to continue. “He told me what happened.”

You searched Tyler’s face for any hint of a lie. He’d said that once before, just to get you to admit it outloud to him. He hadn’t called your brother and he hadn’t known what had happened. 

But this time he did. 

“Tyler…”

“Something was up with you and I knew you weren’t going to tell me. I wasn’t gonna take any chances.”

You sat back in your seat. “You could have just asked me.”

“Would you have told me?”

You were quiet. “Eventually.”

“Y/n,” Tyler sighed. “You spend so much time taking care of everyone else.”

“It’s my job.”

He shook his head. “It’s more than that. You spend so much time making sure everyone else is okay, making sure we’re not hurt or dying or slipping off the edge of the world. You deserve not to get hurt, too.”

“It’s a little late for that.” Your voice seemed like something it never was. 

Small.

You didn’t know whether to look out of the window or at your hands. But Tyler brought your gaze back to him anyway by taking hold of your hand from where he sat. 

“I know I can’t change what happened, but I’m here if you wanna talk. Or scream. Or cry. Or bitch about it.” That part made you smile and he gave you a light smile in return. “For as long as you need.”

For the first time in a few weeks, you felt normal again for a moment. “Thanks.”

Looking at Tyler, his hand still firmly in yours, you watched as he looked from you, back to the road. 

Even when you were younger, you could have watched him forever trying to commit him to memory. Each line and curve of his face, the length of his lashes, the colour of his hair…all of it. You’d looked at the man for just over a decade. Maybe it was some innate fear of losing him, or maybe it was the fact that the first time you met him was when he charged in front of a bull and got flipped into the air like a rag-doll. 

But you wanted to make sure he was there. 

One thing that you were certain of was that, no matter what, you’d never forget his eyes. The way they bore into your soul unlike anything else. Tyler knew what you were thinking and feeling with one single gaze on your face. 

Nobody else could do that. 

Nobody. 

Just him. 

Just Tyler. 

Pulling into a semi empty parking lot, Tyler switched off the engine and looked over at you. Then you both made your way inside. Grabbing a basket, you and Tyler stocked up on different flavours of ice cream for both yourself and the others before heading towards the check out. 

Finally, once you’d come outside, there were barely any cars in the entire lot but the way the sun was setting, sending a golden hue over everything it touched, made it seem a lot more peaceful than just empty. 

“Wanna stay here for a while?”

“Here? Here here?”

Tyler smiled as he lifted the back of his flat bed down and hopped up into it. You tried to deny yourself of the fact that you checked him out as he did so. 

“Yes, here. Or have you got somewhere better to be?”

You could hear the smile in his voice. 

“What about the ice cream?”

Tyler gave a casual shrug before he lifted it up. “I’ve got a cooler. They’ll keep for a while.”

You looked around you. There was no hurry in getting back. Everyone would probably still be napping. 

“Okay then.”

As Tyler dropped the bag into the cooler, he walked over to you and gave you a hand up before you held onto his arm for stability. 

“You okay?”

“All good.”

As you sat down, Tyler went back to the cooler and pulled out your chosen flavour of the day, as well as his before handing you a clean spoon from the small side pocket of the cooler. 

Then he joined you. 

With the sun warm on your bodies, the pair of you sat on the edge of Tyler’s flatbed, your legs swinging free. 

“So, what did our shared idiot have to say? Is he and the girls okay?”

Tyler nodded. “Melenie’s on a girls weekend away for her friend’s bachelorette party, so he’s trying to keep the girls busy before they call their mom. He also said that Caroline has now decided she wants to become a vet instead of a princess equestrian horse ballet dancer.”

You smiled with a small laugh. 

“And Zoey has taken to teaching her dad how to cook a meal that does not include pasta or cheese.”

You looked at Tyler. “Is that why I got a text asking what a bechamel is?”

Tyler nodded with a small laugh. “She found a recipe for Lasagna to help him dip his toe in the water. She’s just like you, you know.”

“What? Bossy? Stubborn? Too smart for her own good?”

“Clever.” 

You looked at Tyler again. 

Then he shrugged. “Bossy, too. But clever.”

You smiled, taking the compliment, even if you did roll your eyes at his agreement of you being called ‘bossy’. 

A small chuckle escaped you. “She has been running rings around those two for years. I’m expecting Caroline will be doing the same soon enough.”

“Soon enough? She already does! You know, last time I went to see them she had your brother learning how to sow pink sequins onto tu-tu fabric.”

“But he doesn’t know how to use a needle. I’m pretty sure I banned him from using one when he was sixteen and tried to sow his socks back together. It ended up looking like he had webbed feet.”

Tyler laughed. “Well, he’s gotten better at least. I had to give him a helping hand, but by the end of the night she was doing pirouettes around the garden until she got dizzy.”

You smiled. You saw your brother, sister-in-law and nieces as often as you could. You had a facetime call with them at least once a week. Your niece Zoey had even taken to writing your letters since she was practicing to earn her pen license in school. 

The conversation flowed from there. From your nieces, to Tyler’s family, to the Wranglers, to work, to the prediction of a few more EF-1s and 2s in the area in the coming days and then back to ice cream. 

Until Dani called and asked you and Tyler to pick some food up on your way back from wherever you both were. 

“Come on, we better go.”

As you took Tyler’s tub back to the cooler along with your own, he hopped down to the ground and waited for you. And from there, after the initial awkward moment, Tyler reached to your hips before slowly lowering you down until your feet hit the concrete directly in front of him. 

For a moment, the world seemed to disappear around you. 

Feeling Tyler’s fingers against the waistband of your shorts holding you steady, you felt yourself lean forward. With your eyes trailing up from his chest where your hands had fallen from his shoulders, all the way up to where his eyes moved from the lower half of your face to meet your gaze, a question popped into your mind. Well, a few questions. 

Did he feel the same?

Was he…did he want to kiss you, too?

Before you could get your answers, however, Tyler’s phone rang out loud. And the moment seemed to roll away as you and Tyler realised what was happening and stepped away from each other. 

“It’s…it’s Dexter.”

You nodded and stepped away. “I’ll wait in the truck.”

As Tyler watched you walk away, looking back at him every once in a while, he cursed himself for leaving his phone on loud. 

Looking down at the contact, he swiped to answer and scuffed his boots on the concrete as he cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Ty. Uh, I’m picking up a reading.”

Sitting in the truck, you looked at your reflection. The heat you could feel on your cheeks was clearly writing across your face. You could only pray Tyler thought it was from the sun and not from the twister of butterflies inside of you. 

From the rearview mirror, you watched him scurry around, grabbing a pen and a scrap piece of paper to scribble something down. Then he hung up and rushed towards the driver’s seat. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Get your seatbelt on.” Tyler told you as he pulled his own on and started the truck up. 

“Ty, what’s going on-”

“Dexter’s picked up some cells. We’re twenty minutes away. Fifteen if we hurry.”

The noise of his engine seemed to get louder until it joined in with the sound of the incoming sirens. 

You could both see it in the distance, gathering more track as it got closer. First it ripped through a baseball park for the kids, then the field and park beside it before heading towards the markets in the town. 

“The shelters are all full!”

You looked around you, as did Tyler. “The bar! They’ll have a cellar!”

The wind continued to pick up around you both, everyone’s voice becoming silent in comparison to the chaos around you all. 

Then you saw one of the tents take flight. 

“Tyler!”

He couldn’t hear you. 

“Tyler!”

He heard you as you forced yourself closer, but before he could react, you pulled him down just before the tent swooped lower and took your both out. Rolling along the ground, the tent cover ripped away and went sailing through the air and down the street along with the metal stand. 

“Are you okay?”

Tyler was above you, checking you over. But you just nodded and your attention turned towards the end of the street. 

“We need to get inside.”

With Tyler’s help, you stood up and pulled yourself into the bar before he closed the door and directed you towards the cellar. As the door to the cellar closed behind you, a sharp pain came to the side of your head. 

“Come on, down here. We’ll be safe here.”

Tyler slotted you between the wall and himself, his arms wrapping around you securely. Every now and again, people let out small screams. More so when the tornado ripped through the town and battered against the cellar door. 

You gripped onto Tyler’s arm and clothes a little tighter, burying your head into his chest. Then you felt his arm reach from your back to your head, holding you against him, his cheek resting against the top of your head. 

Slowly, the wind disappeared and the battering of the door came to a stop. The only noises that could be heard in the cellar were people’s gasps and heavy breathing as they looked around as the swinging headlamp above them. 

“Do you think it’s over?”

“Maybe.” 

Tyler looked up and helped you up from where you stood. The stinging on your head seemed to get worse as you stood up and the blurry image of Tyler reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean square of fabric. 

You hissed.

“Sorry. Just keep pressure. You’re bleeding.”

For a moment you tried to look at it then realised you couldn’t. 

“I’ve got a med kit in my truck. Hopefully it’s still there.”

Eventually, you all got back outside. Boone, Dani and Kate appeared from across the street, a sea of people behind them. 

“Can you hold down the fort?” Tyler asked Lily. “I want to make sure Y/n’s okay.”

“Yeah, ‘course. We’ve got her med kit with us if you don’t have yours.”

Tyler nodded and thanked her before moving back to the sidewalk, his hand coming to your shoulder. “Come on, let's go and patch you up.”

Finding Tyler’s truck, he slotted the back of the flatbed down and lifted you onto the back. 

“I’m gonna grab my kit. It’s on the backseat.”

You just nodded, keeping the eye closest to the cut shut. Tyler disappeared for a moment but once he was back in front of you, he was a little less blurry. 

“Okay, let me take a look at this.”

“Are you okay?”

Tyler laughed a little as he examined your wound. “You’re the one bleeding here, Sweetheart. It’s my turn to take care of you.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Tyler chuckled. “Well,” he examined the wound further before reaching for the cotton swabs and cleaning solution. “It’s either me or another paramedic-”

“You.”

Tyler smiled. “Glad to know I’m a fan favourite.”

Then with a small warning, he started to clean the cut on your head. You hissed, lifting your hand to his other arm. 

“Sorry, I’ll be finished soon. I promise.” Tyler said as his thumb gently rubbed your cheek as it rested in his hand. 

“It’s okay. I trust you.”

Tyler smiled a little. “Am I still a fan favourite?”

The stinging settled and you moved back towards him and the cotton swab. “More than a favourite, but I might be biassed.”

You seemed to have shocked yourself but Tyler didn’t seem to react. Too much, at least. Maybe he hadn’t heard you. 

With little tape pieces, Tyler pinched your cut together before laying them across it. 

“What’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

Tyler smiled, “I’m keeping my eye on you, but you should live.”

“Ah,” you smiled. “The three little words every woman wants to hear.” 

For a moment, it looked like Tyler was going to say something but then he turned back to his med bag. “We should probably head back. See if anyone needs our help.”

“You’re right.”

And you both did exactly that. 

The night sky had fully settled across the town by the time you and Tyler started helping out. And by the time you all got back to the motel, the moon was at its peak. Everyone headed for bed the moment you all got back. 

Except for you. 

Twenty minutes later, you stepped out of the shower for the second time that day, your hair wrapped in a towel as you got dressed into a spare set of clean clothes. 

Then there was a familiar knock on your door as you flipped your head over and pulled the towel from around your hair. 

“It’s open, Ty!”

“How did you know it was me?”

You gave him a tired smile. “I know your knock. Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to check on you.” He lifted his med bag from beside him. You nodded and he shut the door behind him before he walked across the carpet floor and sat beside you on your bed. 

With his fingers gently holding your head, he examined your wound. “How are you feeling?”

“The dizziness is gone and I can see you clearly again, so that’s something.”

Tyler smiled. 

“I am a doctor, Tyler. I do know what I’m doing.”

“I know.” Tyler nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to check up on you. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

You smiled and gave him a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Well, it seems clean.”

“I did just have a shower.”

Tyler chuckled, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. “Right. Well, you look okay. I mean, you always look okay. Beautiful, actually. But-”

“Ty.”

“What I mean is- it’s just that- your wound looks okay.” Tyler finally looked at you calmly again, his hand coming to your wound to let his thumb brush the wet strands of your hair away from it. 

“You always look beautiful.”

You felt yourself lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment until you heard his voice. Then your eyes met his. 

But no phone rang this time. 

No knock came to the door. 

Neither of you were trying to avoid the other. 

As his hand slipped through the strands of your hair, your hand reached out for his arm and you moved closer. Finally, his lips met yours in a tender kiss. It was soft then…searching. His hand that you’d reach for pulled you closer until he held you flush against him, your own hands reaching for his side as well as his jaw. 

With the kiss floating to an end, you felt Tyler’s nose nuzzle against yours, your eyes still closed as his forehead came to touch yours. 

Then you finally opened your eyes when you felt Tyler pull away for a moment. He was looking at you, that ridiculously endearing smile on his face as he looked at you and once again brushed the hair from your face. 

Then you felt yourself giggle. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing…just…I never thought this would happen.”

“Are you glad it did?” Tyler felt his heart trying to prepare itself for the worst. 

But you smiled. “I am…are you?”

Tyler felt a wave of relief wash over him. “If you only knew how long I’d been thinking about it…”

“Is that a yes?”

Tyler nodded. “That’s a yes.”

“So…if I asked you to kiss me again, would you say yes?”

“Yes.” Tyler leaned closer. “I’d say ‘yes’.”

Kissing you once again, your fate was tied with Tyler. A day where Tyler didn’t kiss you good morning, good night or just for no reason at all would never come into being. 

[hanahaki270]

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.

・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader

・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb

♥︎

You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.

You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?

♥︎

-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.

-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.

-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.

-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.

-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.

-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.

-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)

-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?

-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.

-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.

“Sasuke?”

-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.

“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.

-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?

♥︎

[pacofprunes]

thoughts on yandere!dae ho?

i think it fits him sm bc he'd be so needy and jealous 😭

you’re right anon, 110%.

warnings — manipulation, yandere content, jealousy, ptsd mentions, noncon touching, short

yandere! daeho headcanons

yandere daeho who can’t stand to be separated from you, both in and out of the games.

yandere daeho who whenever you need to use the bathroom in the games, he tries to go with you everytime.

yandere daeho who can’t stand when you talk to another guy, let alone look at another guy. always finding an excuse to get your attention. making a loud noise or dropping his food on the floor whenever you’re talking to gi-hun to stop your conversation from going any further.

yandere daeho who clings to you at night like his life depends on it. if anybody even comes near your bed he immediately sits up in case somebody’s trying to kill you. constantly paranoid and on his toes.

yandere daeho who manipulates you. he never realizes that’s what he’s doing, he unintentionally does it. he can’t help it. but so what if he is? he just wants the best for you. always shutting down and going silent if you say you’re going to go talk to gi-hun about something in private. when you ask what’s wrong he says you said it aggressively. says the way you spoke to him was very hurtful, causing you to apologize profusely and hug him tightly. a breath of relief escaping his mouth that you trusted his words and now you’re back in his arms again.

yandere daeho who makes you think you’re going crazy. you’re already in this game of death which is bound to make anybody go crazy, but now he’s twisting his words. saying one thing to you and another to someone else.

“daeho, but that’s not what you said.”

“yes it is. are you sure you didn’t mishear me?” he wants you to rely on him and only trust what he has to say. he wants you to think he’s the only one who has the right answers for you, making himself the only one you ever come to when you have a question or need help.

yandere daeho who over time you start to notice him slowly inching a little closer, his grip getting a little tighter as the days go on, so you decide to say something to him. he does apologize, but it’s only to make you feel bad.

“ah, i’m sorry. i don’t mean to be so clingy. i’ll keep my distance.” and then you’re the one who clings to him, apologizing if what you said came across wrong. telling him that he’s not clingy and that you don’t have a problem with him being so close. he doesn’t pay mind to your words though. only paying attention to the warmth he feels around his body from you before reciprocating the hug you’re giving him back.

yandere daeho who uses his ptsd from being in the marines as an excuse to jump close to you and hold onto you. with every gunshot squeezing tighter and tighter.

yandere daeho who when the lights are out and he slides into bed with you, you ask him to go. you liked him as a friend, you two weren’t a thing, so why was he so close to you? you protest to him but he only pulls you closer, shushing you, saying it’s to keep you safe and that with you in his arms, nobody will try anything throughout the night.

yandere daeho who purposely doesn’t bring the ammo back during their revolt. you’d gotten too close to all those people. junbae, gihun, youngil. if he could let them die and play it off as him being scared, he didn’t care. as long as he had you all to himself. not having to share you with a team, not having multiple people to protect you. no. he wanted to be the only one.

“daeho, what are you doing?”

everybody was dead asleep. you were laying in your bed before feeling a dip and turning to see daeho. he pulls you into his chest.

“i’m just keeping you safe.”

you try to push yourself out of his grips but his biceps just flex and stay wrapped around you.

“uhm, i appreciate the gesture, but uh—”

you gulp and take as big as a breath as you can with the little space that you have between the two of you.

“can you lay somewhere else? there’s just not much space anyways, you know?”

he moves one of his hands to run it through your hair and you shiver. it was a kind gesture, and you liked daeho, but you didn’t want this. he was your friend. nothing more, nothing less. he only squeezes you tighter though.

“don’t worry, i won’t let you fall off the bed. i won’t let you get hurt. i’d take a bullet straight through my head before i ever let a scratch even cover your beautiful skin.”

you just shrink into yourself. shrink into him, knowing that it was futile. he wasn’t harming you, so you guess it was fine for now. you take shallow breaths, your chest hitting his everytime you breathed in from the close proximity. you’d think something like this may help you sleep more but it was only gonna keep you up even longer. but maybe that’s what he was counting on. being who you could lean on and trust to save you while you’re too tired to properly play the games the next morning. you didn’t know. you just furrow your eyebrows together, forcing your eyes shut before feeling his head lean against yours, feeling his lips on your head, spreading into a smile against you.